The Untold DUP Tribute

   
My words dance in my poetikmind    
drift through my crimsin veins    
thrive through my cerebral vines    
then tarnish the page in a manner    
that even daze my own mind.    
When thoughts are stuckinahardplace    
my pen maneuvers through chaotic space    
allowing my sanity to inhale,    
cognitively freeing me from Niknshell-hell.    
Syllables sprouting in a villanelle garden    
between Balefulmalevolence trees,    
where Flower(girl)-blooms into stories conceived    
from a Poetryman’s seeds.    
Then it’s read,    
fascinates another head    
and the end result leads to an….    
.....awakenedsoul.    
I’m told,    
that some of my prose-pose    
a soft Darkenchantress effect    
without the beautiful sinful DevlinDC dialect,      
be it, creatively-crowfly-real or    
haiku-Chiyo-ficitional,    
my words are born from emotions-    
creating a mystical visual.    
Those that stain parchment in (Dala) bold print    
leaving zazzles of DNA in poetic fingerprints.    
Readers peruse words with a lurker sway    
like the prowl of a blocat stalking his limerick prey    
I pray….    
that a blue_angel bless my words with nirvana design    
while lyrical shadoe(s) perform pirouettes on ink lines.    
Metrical compositional wits-    
I know there’s no rhyme or reason to any of this shit,    
but you’ve got to admit,    
you love the sensual sonnet high you get...    
when you toke on a Rain hit.    
     *smile*    
I’m inking this in LobodeSanPedro freestyle    
keeping it Feenixfiles friendly, never hostile    
I got the jazzmanor playing softly in the background    
on days when creating something naajir(ly) profound.    
My quill shifts into a seductive mood,    
that’s when my pen becomes semi-nude.    
Cloaking my verbs in shades of Lena-underneath-pink,    
stirring your imagination with my provocative ink.    
Dressing my words up in savaja fetish red    
just to get inside your head.    
I’m on the Dean(‘s) list with my Carpe diem erotic flow    
musing and lusting, causing my vivid_mocha skin to glow    
Narrative of it all is that my pen pleasures you....    
while pleasuring me,    
treasured gem between limbs shaped in an exquisite Vee,    
seeps and weeps in jemac-rapture as my burning flesh plea    
and it’s my job as a poet to make you feel me completely...    
emotionally    
spiritually    
mentally    
and....poetically.    
   
   
Rain~    
   
   
   
Disclaimer: (My apologies to the many gifted poets not named. Please don't be offended! My patience of writing and reading ink with length is not my strength. I’m hopeful of challenging myself in the near future with another poem showcasing more of my followers.)