Anomic Symphony

I’ll take you on with my velvety dissonance which costs six pence and two hens and exchange it, not rearrange it for a recovering alcoholic’s neuron-less, cranial nest.

I’ll bombard you with a boisterous symphonic entity, as your enemies remedies are no match for Hennesey’s extremities despite your well-defined fantasy your no friend of me or no one to keep so don’t pretend to be
The ruler of some preposterous meek sheik who’s a breath shy and the alabi’s cry from mourning the guy with cyandide in his eye trying to get by with an order of french fries from Five Guys.
Putting ketchup on ketchup and attempting to get up while running amok with a useless smuck and ceaseless puck headed straight for your torn, unborn thought that surfaces with civil services and dances around town with brown clowns and maid's gowns of silk shampoo, milk for two and honeycomb monsters monsterous honey dew and pepe le pews puke and puffed up button rutt, not Minaj’s bubble butt that you could pop or cut.
Let my diction arise as I surmise the sure-fire surprise of thighs on this enterprise with flies that knot and tie your false demise, as swine get swull in muck and always try their luck, fan boys got no choice but to breed inside the truck. So I leave, you breathe and we scrape sheets clean with Mr. Clean's wet dream of mean stocks and beans as Jack goes lickity split on Angelina’s Pitt without his schtick while trying to jump the candle stick.
I’ll drive a four-wheeled, course deal, but you’ll of course steel my fourthmeal. So thank you much I’ll eat alone, so take your bone and go home where Syllvester Stallone will choke a gnome, who’ll poke and moan as your mother’s drone fights fiercer clones and shoots a cone that we have shown and never grow inside this phone.

I see you breathe and thoughts of she caressing me with breasts and bees where if you stand still and maybe just chill, you can take a pill to then fulfill your lofty dreams with anthill’s seams and fulfilled beings that otherwise scream inside a free-bees beauty team.
 I think it keen that I have seen the lean, mean thought machine that chirps and flirts with natures seeds and bakers greed your life will mean to breathe obscene and not have seen the oils and creams that churn and teem. Abundance abounds, you calico hounds. Just grasp yourself, you’re crass and helped, but you just yelp and grab for kelp on floors of seas and princess’ peas, now let me pee and just be free away from worry or a flurry of hurry when surefire cracking means my fire is racking up mount Olympus cup. The goblet, they’ll mob it if you just give us time and dimes with reels and peels of gold and mold to bask in masks of endless tasks and baths on backs of racks of hats where you can screw and do the dew with men called Sven and girls with pearls that have flawless, lawless, bra-less brawls of withdrawals from sorbet scooped on Herald's stoop of tattoos and bad news for nice dudes.

We suffocate while you abdicate and slowly rape your closest mate, at any rate you hate to be late so get on your way don’t procrastinate, you time-inclined serpentine.

Crooked Trees

I've heard it said that crooked trees will break the serpent's lot
As hours unfurled the days arose to cease the years of rot
And man withstood the pain of grace despite the vicious knot
For unto him will come a time when riches are not sot

Vultures feast, the timid seas have never seen their wake
For when the gentle mood is set a sole eye's gaze forsakes
And soul's unrest forever swoons to raise its simple stakes
But sudden half-baked compromise we never wish to make

To toss and turn the seas of toil only spur them on
What is this lowly place one calls monotonous marathon
Back and forth upon themselves the levies will collapse
My will, my life, my everything, upon the serpent's lap

Farewell

Adaptation-a natural process of life
Things change, develop, and refine
Though unpredictable facades of strife
For no alteration waits its turn in line

It is time to embrace this change
No longer view it as loss of security
But to broaden our short life's range
Of experience and understand clearly

What if we knew all life's features?
Just a predictable loaded die?
To become beautifully complicated creatures
We must first find the catcher in the rye

As we bid farewell to our simpler selves
We enter a new realm of being
The deeper we seek, the further we delve
Discovering calling, ultimate freeing