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Drifting Wisdom

Is there a vessel for my magical words?
buried under thrashing guitar noises
why bother organizing anything at all
when i can sip from my black coffee
potent as the air in this room
breathing slow and deep
with a blade that cuts the silly faces
of scanned brains
hiding in the ancient mugs of doom
corrected by blue fields stuck on sheets
of ordinary lives gone
through acid wisdom
they cannot see me in this place
I have drifted beyond the lake
now swirled by colors and drawings
do not end this relationship
between the sky and metallic bridges
the paint splattered in  the wars of men
it is pink in here among the drug plains
crashing into the desert realm
I shall keep calm and carry on
stationed in the corner
I will read my book and then do back flips
raising my fists in the sky
feeling so high on razor sharp electric music
radio waves strangle my brain
until the eggs of thought spill on the floor
my head is split wide open now
the eye shaking king is here to
take me away from reality
a prisoner of time’s pieces are breaking away
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Author:

Writer, Poet and Music geek

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