for now

Influence

inference 

y’all ever heard of homophones - i hear swan lake on the song and i also hear ONE WAY

once bitten twice shy twice bitten you just cry three times bitten                              well doesn’t matter why

fourth bite               you can’t fight the ice

fifth bite let’s just do a dance

six times now,

just try to sing along, to the growl that does pester you, the inconvenient thing

7th who ’s really counting anymore

now the bite - can it close lose can it stop

bites make marks

don;’t tell me they don’t

I see your eye

i feel that cry

and I can only wonder why

why

my hands still rest on ice on mental and black key shifts cool spun metal that’s what I’ve got left

even Wendy had to grow up.

9th bite ..<>

your too trite 10th bite try another life. 11th bite - we’ve all been bit before. 12 bite. Don’t tell me you want more. 13th bite what’s the point in denying it. 14th bite soon you’ll see the light in it. 15th bite…                  this is the way it’s always been.

I have a mad as fuck idea

I don't really have the means to make it happen

hope is like looking across a tight rope bridge over a jungle. how wide does the ground beneath your feet need to be for you to comfortably walk?

I like parallels,

are we walking on the inside or the outside

one is bristling, brimful,

movement by association by the agreed measure and weights and scales

poured through again and again,

and over and over,

to look out a stationary window as though on a train - being plunged through the world,

in a way discordant to proper appreciation of its virtue,

not to look out the window and see ants on an ant hill, no, i don’t think,

it can never be detailed enough

the inner working can never be seen, the iceberg under the waterline

the thing incomprehensible until further inspection,

you cannot suffer vertigo from the inside, blood does not fear it’s journey

so vital as it is, from the inside it is cautionary.

To the outside,

any spill is a disaster, one wrong move is game over pal,

the air is sharp, vicious, rapacious,

it can swell and boil and pus and sloven,

and far more perilous to resist - the comfort once know is shattered,

but here decides the action, the dramatic awe inspiring, god inducing

beauty beyond beauties. It’s right there. Just there.

So still. So close.

It lays itself whole, bare before you, unravels in ecstasy for your eyes.

The World has no shame in being beautiful. And the root

is timeless, whatever the case may be.

to continue thus in a foreign land, one must walk the tightrope of their values,

the display they offer, both sides, head and tails, and you in-between

every drop of familial love i want this year between christmas and my 21st will go to the boob fund.

I want to get rid of them - just a little - it’s a heavy weight on my chest and I don’t have the ankles for heels.

Though i admire all of the Kweens that Walk Proud in Those Shoos :D

And the t the Kings can leave Some Things up to them…

Men Nor Women are scared of the Dark which they Hold. They know the App’Prop’Priate

Time to Releive Pressure -

Hacking can Be Relief. Breaking can be relief. Cracking and Stacking and finally

Admitting that Light Can Reach the Roots . in the Cracks.

That is A great Relief.

A BIG BREATH OF FRESH AIR

When you SIIT on th eCracks and Block their Passage you become the PROBLEM

CHILD .

Breathe.

Do Not Persecute to the Point of Detenation.

The Beat Will Drop

The Name of  A Family bound by Fire and pyre

can be quite Loud Again. We can Scream to Each Other -

through the Wind

From the Top of the Mountain

To

The Smalled Acorn                    ,           just there on the Forest Floor.

I will not Ignore That  - - No More

                                                             PRIDE IN MY SOVEREIGN RESPONSIBILITY

                                                                       Pryde in MY NAME

                                                              Pride in the Beat I can March TO>