Monday, January 18, 2021

Song of 81 Poems - LXXX




Imagine a dark angel at night,
   how Death caught some sugar.
Fly first class, stranger.
   Tomorrow, we talk about glorious endeavors.

She had the last Demon,
   for psychedelics found in art.
Perfect sister, see if the silhouettes
         of sounds you just spoke.
Know, or understand,
    and learn inclusively, our dark Earth.

What marvelous creature on Crete,
   sculpts an instrument.
Our stand-in event was passive,
That much I'll admit.
   Try to understand.

Please, I'm in love,
Praise simple morphine to scale.
   Conserve it!
I reached for a key, 
    buried over animal music.
It means "You'll investigate with sound!"

Passive air, shows, alleviates.
Don't muscle that system, if so grip it.
Joy is about canvas,
    kisses play music, without delusion,
       metaphors of life.

Sculpt Angel,
   Fill the glorious missive.
Hands and fingers in scores, smear wasted earth.
   Dazzle and imagine smoke, my art river.

Observe, we speak of Harmony's jungle.
   She delights in anger,
      takes an offering.

No bias, just kids.


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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