Saturday, May 31, 2014

The Cut Out So To Speak



Written on the heels of 'Pass the Crown Again"
I state the value in the Title of this Win,
for I may have not been given Choice,
but I measure these decides every Day.

Clap to the thunder in these lightening Rays,
the gift I gave was my children today,
a Purpose, A Purchase, A Well Seated Stay,
the burps are just hiccups that speak with a tray.

Served with absolute no design,
just riddles, poems or stanza's that rhyme.

The triggering pulls from the passing hooray,
the downs of my life in the mail the other day,
the burden of proof doesn't need much in say,
I see before in after of stray.

Fiddle to Pan he is what in these lands,
the whistle, the blower, the people of hands?,
rifled for money taken for credit,
the charge is the rights that have forsaken in planned.

An Opera of Sordid Affairs stills these Cans,
shields of wealth in the Mind of it's bland,
spice to the Cosmic carry in Scan,
gregarious in ample to evident strand,
Life It Self said I am Well.

Tell of the Mystic in burials stacks,
verb to the vital it's much more than facts,
built to the structure of Men from way back,
the Path not of Rubble but Granite in Cast.

Muse to the Oracle in Venice or Eves,
spoof to the greats of Apple and leads,
atop was the cherry that never did pop,
the meat fill piroshki Cinderella is chill.

A glass pair of eye ware,
a slipper to speak,
visions of calculated upping the Feat,
computers that made Haight look to seek,
the Answer my Friend is, 
blowing in the Wind. 

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