© All rights reserved.
Titanium sorcery
painted with black souls
she stands
calling
touch me
caress me with your metaphors
tease me with your similes
your double entendres
tickle my electrons
her voice is deafening
the thought of her invades me
like an inquisition
she sprinkles fear in my lungs
like glitter
I am breathless
permeated with the desire to speak
but I am tongueless
fireflies waltz in my belly
caterpillars race to my fingertips
crickets dance in my knees
my legs won't stop shaking
she entices me like the sound
of wind chimes in the desert
captivates me like the eclipse
of two souls in the rain
her structure deceives me not
an infinite cavern lies in the hollow cove of the stand
she has been ingesting words since the beginning of time
she's tasted mournful whispers
and swallowed enraged octaves
of poets who have come before me
the microphone transfers poems into genetic dust
the memory of perfect verses, standing ovations and forgotten lines
have all become ashes collected at the base of the pole
the heaviness of her history keeps her standing tall
A library of love lost
an encyclopedia of stolen legacy
she is omnipotent
frankincense and weed smoke
mother earth and the mother whore
the birth of man and the abortion of civilization
cold colloquialisms
XXX haiku's
enchanting conundrums
puppy love and suicide
red Kool-Aid and heroin
she's been serenaded will all facets of life
she knows I love her
I dread her but I am drawn to her
she has raised many kings
and humbled many victors
she lulls me with sweet seashell songs
I'm coming...
I'm coming...
My words are dipped in honey
sprinkled with fairy dust
injected with charisma
and spiced with vengeance
She is titanium sorcery
painted with black souls
embellished with history
her-story
and now...
My story
MY ODE TO THE MICROPHONE
by Queen D
The Scrambler
art-literature-music/arte-literatura-música