Thursday, 14 April 2016

Miraculous Boundaries for the Free



“Tête d'homme III” (Man Head III) by Pablo Picasso (1964)


Why is flora considered to be more of a compliment than fauna when the latter has actual 
A mental capacity
Who wants to be known by powdered fingers and feet
And flu-inducing nectar stomachs
Who’ll volunteer to seize someone to be his or her victim of sneezing
A catastrophe is aliened in colourful strokes of a lethal weapon
The nose is held hostage to watch those blossoms bloom
On the tip of the bridge of fleece
Is an abundance of varying complexion
Dripping with drew, sweet
But it ain’t honey

In the dark the roots devour the soil
With unimaginable appetite
The thirst to manipulate good genes with one slightly superior
The fascination of selective parties
Not those held in the backyard
Your seeds are still responsible 
As the timer ticks before the field is watered down with the perks of a heaven’s protest 
Collected and contained by those mortal peasants
Are we
Who does he sigh to
When his neck heaves at the sky  

The alcoholic brews his conflict like his beverage
In the shed’s a retreat for all sorts of distress
An igloo to conquer the heat of burning brains
Boiling intellect
There’s a moth abusing the windows with its violent clashes of ancient bodies
Crumbling with dust
Before the dust is brushed off
His weathered thumbs
Flick from the pillow of a plump sofa
An adventure to be adhered to regardless of consensus
There isn't a graveyard for a dull death