deepundergroundpoetry.com
My Very Soul
(collab of Bliss and Prophet)
Crazy kangaroos
got out the zoo earlier
sent all the
animal control hounds
on patrol
burning lights
steering life
through out
the lazy eyed
Suzanne McCann
wittily
Snuck up on the old man
Sniveling
Cotton clouds dust
Jest the shame away
These dust clouds
roll, proud across
the plains
I breathe them
into my very being
Into my very soul
So much that
I don't remember
Air without dust.
I live within the dust,
The dust lives within me
Cringing and Binging
The life lived long slow
Death swept
the tester crept slept
Toss the due
Stew boiling
Growing tumor trouble
In the rough
Frumpy the back breaks
Broken
left tattered
bleeding blue
I knew it grew,
It's true
Hoping its benign,
That it'll
All be fine,
Skipping
Like a broken record
'cross my mind,
Only to find,
that the music
sliced my brain,
yet I feel no pain.
This music penetrated
deep, to my very soul
Let it all grovel
Hither the liver
Turns muck into
Grains finer than
Sand taken riverside
By hands shaken
Predict ermines
Germs festering
Hankered by
Vines strangling
The light
So to speak,
we take what we reap
Gapes and grains,
brought down
before the harvest,
to bring the town
their life's blood,
Whether it spreads disease,
it will satiate their hunger,
nonetheless,
And keep each husk living
for yet another day
Crazy kangaroos
got out the zoo earlier
sent all the
animal control hounds
on patrol
burning lights
steering life
through out
the lazy eyed
Suzanne McCann
wittily
Snuck up on the old man
Sniveling
Cotton clouds dust
Jest the shame away
These dust clouds
roll, proud across
the plains
I breathe them
into my very being
Into my very soul
So much that
I don't remember
Air without dust.
I live within the dust,
The dust lives within me
Cringing and Binging
The life lived long slow
Death swept
the tester crept slept
Toss the due
Stew boiling
Growing tumor trouble
In the rough
Frumpy the back breaks
Broken
left tattered
bleeding blue
I knew it grew,
It's true
Hoping its benign,
That it'll
All be fine,
Skipping
Like a broken record
'cross my mind,
Only to find,
that the music
sliced my brain,
yet I feel no pain.
This music penetrated
deep, to my very soul
Let it all grovel
Hither the liver
Turns muck into
Grains finer than
Sand taken riverside
By hands shaken
Predict ermines
Germs festering
Hankered by
Vines strangling
The light
So to speak,
we take what we reap
Gapes and grains,
brought down
before the harvest,
to bring the town
their life's blood,
Whether it spreads disease,
it will satiate their hunger,
nonetheless,
And keep each husk living
for yet another day
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1
reading list entries 0
comments 1
reads 679
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.