Monday Night Ritual

I thirst for facets and dimension in every drop of sentence medicine    
Speaking indiscreet is the canary in the coalmine    
Vote with your feet to carry and hold the line    
I'm done with backsliding, pity isn't kindness, too much credit for the mindless    
Unwinding the narrative on what blinds my mix    
     
Pounding in a few dozen extra articles to round out my time    
Sounds spin out where the unexpected related bits stir new thought-form vibrations,    
Bubbles come into tune and disperse, like a Quantum Seafoam Universe    
     
Round and round the ball of yarn winds. I take it all and pardon not a single right or wrong line.      
Still crowned for the thousand bar rhymes, the tingles, lightning quip bites, and strong design,    
     
Free the conjecture, idea architecture is in the collective spot, melt it all and stir the pot    
So whatever pops off the cuff when conversations bust is like holding cayenne chocolate drops until they melt upon the tongue and slop    
     
Sweet and hot, unlike anything else I ever unlocked, make every minute glad it stopped,    
Read the seeds in these shots, spree from top, freeze clocks, balance my chops      
Til I can click them all off and pick my own emotional locks like a gleeful Spock    
Devout to the shards I unpeel, every part reveals more. Nothing discarded until it suits the lore    
     
Because every day might be my last story with nothing more. So I re-route what I feel, neural pathways and spiels give out what's real…      
I can't get any louder than my heart, when my head gets cloudy that part stays smart.      
Every bit that wow’ed or came down hard, allowed to start,    
     
A sequence that keyed in these bars    
In the now I watch them flicker and dart. Arouse my art and get back to the start…    
Monday night rituals, making Mexican food and breaking down House of Cards    
     
Bring my stasis fast, where the racing brain stashed the secrets and answer sheets      
To the squeaky cleaned up poli scene, call it keen, matching what I resolve with a savvy poly psychology queen, knows her way around my curse, brings me down to Earth, shares the atmo level I reach, fast enough to close each convo, grounding my electric flow,      
   
Cause for all the heresy and firespit I drop on the go like a verbal volcano? There's balance back to the challenge-tracks, and not to get ironic and sarcastic,    
But what’s the point in being iconoclastic if you don't have the respect to study the iconic amongst the masses?    
   
It’s that kind of time to invest, my kind, breath back in my chest, also puts me in check when I get spurious, somehow brings everything to its purpose…    
     
Cream rises to the top? Shit also floats on the surface    
Fictional plots get the mind firing quips and slipping with ease, friction greased    
Where systems and strategy seems so much easier than the real life heaven and hell it parallels    
Mindfulness gleans what can be drawn and aspiring to stay keen, never tiring of healing my calloused brain, mental palace maintained,      
     
Pirate Queen inspecting plots, connecting the dots so when I show up to the spot it’s not to unwind the tangled vines or be more relieved as a true believer.      
Uh, I don't need patronizing or bereavement.    
I return to the orb weaver to show the entire knot, know that 90 minutes can grow what the day almost forgot!