Saturday, July 13, 2013

Song of 81 Poems, XXVII




"What are you on boy?
Dead beings act through night energy"
    Maybe all that talk's behind them
Harmony cured our children.
    The greater psychic Delphic husband,
        was before his time.
Confront her and soar with no guilt.

Witch, if we make a star, hold fast!
    Time will choose the cruising dude,
To the be the sweet guile of his sister.
Peace with music knows no damage.

"She's all." The rub? "Say I resented this writing,
    Emotional sex about our sleep."
Make psychedelic through time and power.
    I could learn a color language.
Angry summer competitors need a slimy,
    curvy and emotional snake.

"Know", Mother sat down and fell out,
     a glorious sanguine end.
"Temper your dysfunctional companion. Always scream ''."
    "Try our instrument work."

Need we end this dazzle?
I see a need can please me, an awesome praise.
    I won't observe death, so alleviate my sweet anger.
How mean with junk, take our old cigarettes in break.
Was empty made to sculpt facts in some way?
    Clever character! The finger, must take thee.

Sculpt him blind.
Fiery mother don’t let yourself fill our wild sky.
   Be all, Let us dance here.
I am smoke, all these words are silhouettes,
Crushed, he breaks a new bad song over it all.
    Come, I sense bed music.


Song of 81 Poems:

  1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 
38 40 41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54
55 56 57 58 59 60 61
 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

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