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#Philosophistication

Feel free to follow me, I walk
as I bleed, arrow in my neck,
my trail is a bloody pathway,
its a subway of the right way,
I sway side to side, I glide to
fate while I fade away, consciousness
endangered, I’m a light feather
in a darkened space, let’s call a
spade a spade; I’m hypnotic
with my substance, different
stance; I’m an African Amenhotep,
rodent infiltrating the Dead’s highway,
meet the highness with a sober head,
no need for slumber to reach the
lion or the lioness, new Elijah I’m
awaiting the chariots, while the
worldly elements are rioting and
some are sprinkling heroin on
bread crumbs during eucharist, not Icarus
I’m not trying to enlighten self
until I burn my own divine shell,
sugar coated being; burnt sweet
thing, dark nectar, this skin is
the true sweetness, meerkat madness;
I’m seeing through the highlands,
highest space not mountain landscapes,
I’ve escaped the land logic, I’m
the new library of diverse universal
notions, dwindling through emotion,
drinking the potions from the cloud
of your eyeballs, I collect the tears,
I’m smearing through the depression,
I’m emancipated, doorway was the
hymen, mother Mary, I clawed through
the grace, I’m truly melting and being
tortured by the evils, I’m a seagull
fighting against Horus’ and Osiris’
pheasants, new different level
peasant, new reject, this is the digestion
of thorns, messianic signal.

These bones break off my flesh,
I’m light-headed, soon to be
a paper plane, I’m plainly
insighting what’s in your plain
sight, I’m planning your readiness
for the next phase of homo sapien
potential, await the intentional rapture,
its soon to be a scary sight of things,
I’ve recited the lectures, I have
seen and heard your hallelujahs
and proclamations of Mecca,
we’re all scathed now, scared of
the strike of Jah or Rah or of
Seth with a vengeful smite,
taste my lies, my thesis is analysed
by chaotic beings, my iris mirrors
your world’s timelines and bloodlines,
understand I’ve drawn the outline
of your chaos, I won’t express for you any
rainbows, I already have an arrow
from someone’s bow, I’m bleeding
within, leaking bone marrow,
I’m the kingpin and I’m falling
ill to the ideological gunfires, I’m bringing
pens and papers to gunfights, it’s
paper cuts and ink injections when
I smite, I won’t think to quit, I
won’t believe I’m blocked by I;
writer’s block; that’s a myth, an
array of failing to grasp the true scripts,
stutter; alter egos behind burning bushes;
Moses heard voices within, the God
complex soothing, my aura explodes;
radiates and pollutes the layered space,
been scatterbrain since ’98, been
a split end on that Peter’s fishnet,
diligent vigilant migrant, the time
comes to feed on primates, damaging
the food chain balanced diet, new
born titan moulding deformed mountains,
soundtracks are sounds of miners
buried for a golden wage, golden
age, debris has fallen to bury
the old and grey, man is delicate,
a delicacy for an offspring devouring
mage!

Life’s a page, stage a scene and
add syntax for fun, throw darts
and the virgin sprung, the sensitive
soul dwindled with a cry, BDSM he thought
it was a Buddhism acronym, he’s a
dying folk, farmerboy, pick up the
cotton too, the Pennyfool I’m the
next phase, I pace the cosmos
in flip flops, I tip toe and
peek through the peep hole;
through the black hole I see
mere ash; those are the remains of
your mess: massacres and masses
grilled and baked, the fool hung
with a pen loves the stories as
tales, tell a tale, give Hitler a
tail, Columbus some horns, Rhodes
some nails and relocate Hiroshima
to an African pavement, deformities:
imagine a three eyed African leper,
Horus cults, shoosh don’t insult the
tempered.
In this land of word there’s merely
no tenure, so I’ll manure the writer’s
immature writes, the time for
the climbings begins here, Babel;
soon we skydive, express till I’m mumbling,
until sense loses its sense in me, it’s
a common lore of a crazy madman
pursuing wisdom through foolish acts;
Solomon was here!
Pennyfool; I’m honoured to be…

By Eugene ‘Philosophisticater’

Artwork by Michael Cheval

℗ Philosophistication Poetry ℗

2020 All Rights Reserved ©

Ego Calisthenics [Rise of Pennyfool]

I’m not a monster, I’m just ahead of the Curve!

 

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