deepundergroundpoetry.com
.:King and Queen of The Bungle:.
Remember Uptown?
Zoo York, Central Park...near that watering hole?
We got caught; tangled in those opaque conversations
Out in the clearing there seemed some run astray moments
Most of 'em...moments with thick stagnation
They seemed intentionally unclear
Hanging out there. Like grazing gazelles beyond our grasp
Who would've thought paradise wouldn't last?
Now it would appear there's repulsion
The unveiling of those omitted cuts of Our Tallest Tales
Twin thoughts. Mindsets given up on maintaining
The stress and the straining of that unveiling
Keeping our love within The Lair
Those feelings, they just haven’t been there
And to have ‘em again
No longer is it felt to be a hunger
No longer a thirst; and now
What's worse? It’s been more like a curse
Like the Revenge of the Mau~Mau
So tell us now? How did we become so foul?
.
.
Those once familiar courtesies
The change in perceived attitude
Now coming across as half hearted and rude
Just like our lies...Let’s just call ‘em polite alibis
How they were framed out within our curt sentences
Sentences that you and me...We served methodically
While restlessly our time together
They've been flashes of light but no thunder
Seems we took our time to take us under
Fancy that: You and me.
We've been too good for our own bad
Now it’s a thing quite sad
How could I’ve been your King when you were always on the hunt?
Each stunt...posing as Feline Mystique
You coloring me weak; reminding me how I “cried uncle”
-Scar
-Faced forward...Deep stitched
-The lying, it’s been a bitch
.
.
In our fervor for facing futility
We’ve been marching towards an undercutting position
My closed eye, it wouldn't listen and
The other eye got satisfied with its own open-eyed blindness
While you would creep while stepping over my kindness
Chasing your tall Grrrrrrr-ass tales
Fancy that and this: Like lions in the mist
We've become captivated by our own realness
Thinking our herds of turds; that they never stunk
Now caught in a perpetual funk
A funk where our fecal no longer matters
This longtime pairing now in tatters
And, I suppose for mirrored reasons
We had managed to wild it out for this long
For reasons so obsessively strong; but
Now...they’re weakened and
Don’t neither one of us seem to be wanting to roar back
No stunt; No front
Just fact.
...
Published 27th Jan 2012
| Edited 5th Feb 2012
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