Please ignite my field of telepathic vision
With something other then
Ranting moon beams and beatnik quotable WORDS
That mean nothing
Except for the few of us
Who have dared to study the ART
Of this free flowing wave
Of poetry and common sense
BLISS
And,
Once you’ve done that
Please dedicate all of your future mental PROTEST
To the resurrection of my left hand
Because my right hand has taken over
Within my old age
And I’m becoming way too damn conservative
To keep up with these young poets and spit kickers
Who manipulate the saliva of the tongue
So EASILY
That it seems as if my whole train of thought
Should have died with the LAST POETS
Because I seriously doubt
That anyone in my generation
Can truly relate to their FREESTYLE
As I make room on the mic
For anyone who can truly speak from the HEART
Of this strange mixture of artificial INTELLIGENCE and cloned wordplay
Recycled and smoked within this jazzed out nickel bag of funk
Called…..
That is both my fellowship and my WORD IS BOND
As I throw away my thesis statement
From before
And rip open world winds of change
On both the astral and physical planes
Of reality
And this is way before I get heated
And introduce you to the coded languages
Of before and after
The Big Bang Theory
Took hold of my CREATIVE PROCESS
And I came down to planet Earth
And walked among the ALIENS
Who had never heard of me
before
Who had never heard of PLANET X
Before
Who had never heard of my mother and father
Before
YET THEY CLAIMED TO KNOW OF GOD
So I gave them silence
So I gave them silence
So I gave them silence
Because you could not ignite
Not even a small portion
Of my foster humanity
As I walk away from the mic
STILLBORN
Crying inside
Wishing for just one moment
That you could understand
My telepathic field of vision