deepundergroundpoetry.com

Echoes From The Waterloo

Uplifting, making sure you hang on as earth, and time continues to shift � � � � �
Parting the wetlands, in the might of his rod � � � � �
Getting wet in the rainfalls, twisting in those feel-good pools of desire inclining, ascending yearns � � � � �
Spiraling out of control � � � � �
You got to have some of that, it�s that, and souls weakening in the creation � � � � �
Falling in rapture, panting to the symphonic cadence � � � � �
Baptizing within the formation of my soul � � � � �
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Palm to palm, yes marinate your tongue in my galactic dialect � � � � � �
Come closer and invest the hypothesizes of your North, let me feel your results drifting down South, your Sun rising in that Eastcoast flair, slipping and sliding, West in the cradle of my soul � � � � �
So warm, someone said, butter rum flavored when bowing to console � � � � �
Afrocentric animalistic prowling resonating from the loins of jungle heat � � � �
Melaninated men unto the spirit of his visceral � � �
Black Panther, Black Bear, Black Butterfly, Black Mamba, Black Beetle � � � � �
Bathing in my sacred water, go on, and praise your rebirth in its wondrous flow � � � � �
Closing my eyes, coveted in sacred hydration of rejuvenation � � � � �
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