Posted by Erik Moshe on Friday, February 10, 2012 Under: Rhymed Verses
"Can you imagine what I would do if I could do all I can?"
Under the Tuscan moonscape division… who waits to listen?
Pearly white-bronze beneath a milky breast plate - only the dulce was missin’
Back when the days were golden and El Dorado was under construction
The sky above predominantly sunny, beaming against my face in a Kuwaiti fission
Preconditioned, predestined, predisposed to be a pediatrician for intermediate chitlins
The star children casted rubles into the well at world’s end -
They believed what they were wishing amidst the media’s hisses
The road to the seas seemed to lead to the reef of perdition
They were lost in the foggy isles of solitude since the Pangaea position
before they even realized any people were missing; beautifully sequenced collisions
Big bang theories a cloak of ashen lore that passes forth “…the phoenix has risen.”
Words from a blind man named Aberforth surpass the northern light myriad wisdom
Can you imagine if he released all the knowledge hidden from the Tiberius pilgrims?
I’d rather see the brotherhood of men flee from evil and there’s equal freedom for sistren
It's dark, the afterlife an inconsiderate prism existing in this blistering prison
As seagulls gleam in the distance, the cloudy wisps take on a creamy rendition
The air's free from diesel engine like we decreased the emissions
A desert eagle shrieks as a blemish leaks into my pupil’s peephole, bleaching my vision
Embracing the woman of my dreams, I’m on a beach and I’m livin'
She’s standing on my feet, breathing, I can see the eyes of my seed in her image
I’d give her my heart, my soul and my all. I don’t even need the appendix.
The gatekeepers rise from the seven seas each time I try to extend my reach
Confronted death’s henchmen… and to my surprise they remembered me
Are the rulers of the universe ready to die to defend their keep?
I replied in defensive-speak… "battles aren’t won due to the size of the weaponry"
Just ‘cause the meaning of life defied us for centuries doesn’t mean the bible's the end for me
Inertia recedes, from the Burmese elephants to the Persian police
Sturgeons burgeon in weeds, stars collapse, and like a heart attack, there’s a burst
and then peace, with an inability to read on the surface physique
Take a journey through Copernican streets, sink down towards the merciless deep
I'm out to merge the serf and the sheikh; can’t tell if it even serves a purpose to teach
Yet I’m certain the grand architect might be just as imperfect as we
In : Rhymed Verses