Mourning
I have lost more poems
Than I have scribbled
Midnite moments evaporate
Into memories of coulda been hits
I swear that shit was hot
Imagine the masterpiece
Theatre presentation you missed
In your mind countless ideas
Circle like autumn fallen leaves
The gaggle of geese are giggling
The flocks of birds holla
ayo in different pitches
you are accused of not being
prolific so specific yet vague
still talking yet to explain
in tune with sounds of nature
dehydration of desire
dedicated to dumb shit
more intelligent to be irrevelant
you wonder why your Pops
was in love with Jonathan Livingston Seagull
as you see gulfs between each other
ships passing blindly through day
chips devoured by night
unshakable hunger consumes
or at least is telling you to
continue though doubtful
a challenge to balance
like video games with broken controller
you are the sole owner of your soul
hard to believe
you might have to gas yourself up
to acknowledge the actual fact
in the mirror that can’t break
no mistakes jinx or bad luck
gotta keep it moving can’t be in same spots stuck
nice to visit give daps what up
same shit just a different horizon
what’s surprising is your threshold
for physical pain is papercuts
but your emotions are enlarged
across concrete canvases
merely bandages on leaking wounds
sky staring at you stars wide open
moon sticking tongue at you
like Cam said U mad?
Stretch out tight fibers
That cause you to shiver at your shadow
Quiver at the street magic
Of motion disappearing into fat air
Last light from Harlem
Fighter plane above
How can you refuse the wind
Ever abandon love
Not for a second just blink to get reminded
Of how truth tastes bittersweet
Accept it though stubborn
Shut thunder up born
Embrace your muse pushing you
To higher galaxies
If you went outerspace you might
Pass away cause you failed astronomy twice
Fingers frozen chosen to scribe you to survive
Behind every door there’s an open mic
Just for you to find it and love
It always feel so right
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