Free Style Written Slam Poetry.

Cover Image

Present it past the participle

and hold on close for the artists visual.

Allow no more than the written line,

to pass through his lips 

and collapse to a grind.

Teeth digging in

through jean jacket and push

to a peircing of lip

like an evident hook,

collected aboat

with it's catch on a line;

were it release,

i'd never see it coming,

because a minute of peace

takes A lightyear of running

and to hold on and dangle

from beds we will leave

the ghost of a lover,

hung about in his sheets.

A hardy attempt

to find moments of peace,

in the present tense liar

camping the guard house

with a companies fire

but the bullet points left

for the future of our present

shot every man dead

with the courage to have had read them

Created: Aug 12, 2012


Fatalsyn Document Media