c verse matsu symphony poem
these days that information you run across
and how it trots into your thoughts
sorrow to expending doom
all highlighted in the world wide news
displayed in hi resolution
when it kind of shuts off the imagination
and i stop wondering
just filling in
my future reel film shots
with - honestly not a lot
but dark scenes
doubtful thoughts like in a strange dream
it’s as though my mind had become a factory
manufacturing nothing but pop hits out of key
dreary and dark
dulling the moment and extinguish the emerald spark
that usually pulses in my chest
the chamber that is loaded of excitement resting in the nest
to launch forward and fly
as my imagination is dryer than desert dry
and sometimes i can’t get out of that trap
and then i start looking back in regret
and start remembering what i did forget
until i realize it’s time to shock bolt my mind
like after college i couldn’t find my bumper shine
so i went to poetry mountain
where i could do some reflicting
and shuffling
dancing to a wide view
that cleared at the attic into
a place where the sunlight peaks in
shines a melody of an artist expression
that spark pugs my imagination
into a rolling rain
where i unite with my creature friends
to open up the freeway again
exchanging that information
that is full of expressive nutrition
to allow the inward sight
to open its cannons and take in the ammunition to catapult me into flight
back to when i was just chillin
on the corner and i was willin
to slit a verse into the wind
as homegirl listened in
and the music did begin
to crank its amplifiers
above the traffic static wires
as she joined in
a harmony composed by wind
that said to begin again
after the clearing of the attic
to bending the city night static
into harmonic bars
on the avenue cruising beneath the stars
with a eight flow map of kicking beat bars
that are foundation
to the flight of the animation
in the verse
not cages invading your words
so when you eat something rotten
like all that youtube you be eatin
take a walk in that poetic grove
until the street traffic has cleared and the stars flow
than kick a rhyme into the wind so you know
all is rest back to the river flow
in this noisy city of drama
this internet highway of noisy data
sirens blaring on your cellular phone
as music was meant to sing lullabies from this poets bones
as i spread the color over the damp rainy morning
look into the sky without worry or warning
pull my hoody over my sky dome
finish this verse
about when i will head home
past the naysayers
to the ones confused in prayer
to my kaleidoscope strut
i walk just to say what’s up
not the sky
it’s a dialogue between you and i
give me some of your flavor in the language lullaby
tell me where your headed
and how you become
i’ll share with you a passage
of how my day begun
i saw the sunrise in the beauty of a blackbirds eyes
i hanged with a willow tree
sang to it every last words of my poetry
and then pushed the eyeliner row boat into the sea
had a change being sung to me
in a way never before
as i opened the boarding door
and welcomed her aboard
as she dashed into the chamber chains
and i went to dance in the rain
like i’ve always done
before the rising of the sun
when i shade in my silhouette
into the shadow that is illuminating my cherry chest
where sweetness remains
even after the gutters flooded of ceremonial rain
think as the morning fog
magenta carmine sand rusty wheel of a clog
spinning into the tunnel of the waves
it was a delightful beginning of my day
here’s some scrap paper i painted into a memory
i smeared the edges so it appears pleasantly
like a kite in the winter sky
flying not stretched to what went bye bye
because the wind sang a lullaby so sweet
it came floating gently up the stream
to a brook i used to stop by
on the way from period five
middle school when i was a crane
didn’t learned much but lifted the sugar cane
our if my backpack
shared with the tool shed mouses and roadhouse cats
then i would hoard my skateboard pirate ship
take a seward chanty from its original script
and compose a salty symphony
spicy and full of flavor
a melody
to celebrate and savor
as it is swallowed in your listening
digested into your way of living
a remedy
of spirit poem and song
chanted and cheered into the way all rolls along
in the movement of the mighty river
the veins that remember the day the sky cried
and how all was grey and dried
and information had been spilled
upon the foundation i did build
when i was singing in the back of the class
told to be quiet as i laughed
got thrown home
as i picked up my rippling rhino trombone
blew a symphony melody
that got me in good company
enjoying creating art
connecting fabulously to and from the heart
and soothing the steam rising into the joyous evening
where i be streaming
and shouting out joy
that i am on vacation and employed
because i am right right now dancing
loving what i do
exchanging art with you
centered around what i expressed from inside me
to the way i’ve always wanted socializing to be
not the side car bumper
yelling at the traffic bummer
waiting in long check out lines
mumbling drama to kill the time
as i shout out
can’t we all just get along
as i know only if we relate through poem and song
those original exchange of words
that go deeper than the daily gossip dirt
to the fresh costs of paint
the original colors we all got
which is worth a lot
amongst the traffic information headlines
the non-direct exchange of bummed out times
to the kicking of the creature locomotive
where i be giving it back to all in the way i spoke this
like a rally cry
to get up stand up and stretch those wings
get ready to fly
let go of the garbled talk
and let’s rock
as i take the paint brush and stoke the fire
let the river roll through on guitar amplifiers
lay down a funkafied verse
into the newscasters words
and blast over the loud speaker
creating together is our worth
the sum of this poem
as i be knowing
it will continue on
in motion in exchange
in song
Brilliant and Beautiful Word-smithing indeed IPC! Glad you are here to share Your art as a POPOLOGIST® With Us!