Potential of Poetry
Its madness.
It's all fucking madness.
The madness is fucking, the chaos is here.
And what have we here?
A thought, a prayer, a whisper you care.
But what if there's no one there to hear?
Does the whisper fall like an autumn leaf.
Float to the ground, crushed beneath,
The trammpings of madmen un-aware.
Its vague, I'm fishing, I have no feeling.
I like rythm.
The rhythm of my soul.
My selfish inquiry that stitches me whole.
I grew up in a cult, I was lost to myself.
Taught how to not think, put my heart on a shelf.
Collect dust, it's wicked, inherent with sin.
Believe what I tell you, no more questions, never again.
So I fold my hands like a good little boy.
Cross my eyes and dot my t's.
You know nothing of the man I am to be.
Emotions bottled for 3 decades by count.
Explosions of pain and heartache, knocked down.
Inspring lessons from childhood I see.
Get back up, stand on my feet.
Another brick wall, I must be insane.
The insanity is doing the same thing, same thing, same thing
Same thing, expecting the same result.
Resulting in breaking walls as I go.
I go to the edge and I plummet I fall.
I fall into darkness, I crawl through my past.
My past is haunting, accepting my fate.
Artistry, music, words are my game.
Games that I play as I coalesce words.
Doesn't mean that I trust.
I pay attention I must.
Words and actions tell a story.
Align them with self and find personal glory.
God like, like god, we are beings of greatness.
I am God you are God, the treachery is complacence.
Actions speak louder than words they say.
Yet words cut deep, their master they obey.
Pay attention to attention, the crux of awareness.
Expansion this mansion on what sort of foundation.
Construction of destruction will find you for sure.
Unless you destruct the construct of programs.
Societal concepts that go against nature's hand.
Be a man, don't cry, you fight like a girl.
Binary concepts, antiquated world.
I'm a man, but I feel so much like a woman.
Androgyny, emotional, conceptual feelings.
I love my hair long, I enjoy feeling pretty.
I hide my flamboyance, with this comes self pity.
A constant working in progress, that's me.
To unravel the social learnings I see.
To cry like a human, feel no shame or guilt.
And believe me when I say, on this your religion is built.
Shame shame shame, shame on you for who you are.
Guilty as fuck, for being human you are charged.
For the crime of sin that has never been committed.
Your judgments can eat shit and suck on my dick.
An authentic expression this is what I aim for.
And you may not like my use of words and vulgarity.
But I do not like your hypocritical hilarity.
Preach love, speak hate, then act like a saint.
At least us vagabonds...
Love...
Don't hate.
Time 4:44
'La Loving Logan'
It's all fucking madness.
The madness is fucking, the chaos is here.
And what have we here?
A thought, a prayer, a whisper you care.
But what if there's no one there to hear?
Does the whisper fall like an autumn leaf.
Float to the ground, crushed beneath,
The trammpings of madmen un-aware.
Its vague, I'm fishing, I have no feeling.
I like rythm.
The rhythm of my soul.
My selfish inquiry that stitches me whole.
I grew up in a cult, I was lost to myself.
Taught how to not think, put my heart on a shelf.
Collect dust, it's wicked, inherent with sin.
Believe what I tell you, no more questions, never again.
So I fold my hands like a good little boy.
Cross my eyes and dot my t's.
You know nothing of the man I am to be.
Emotions bottled for 3 decades by count.
Explosions of pain and heartache, knocked down.
Inspring lessons from childhood I see.
Get back up, stand on my feet.
Another brick wall, I must be insane.
The insanity is doing the same thing, same thing, same thing
Same thing, expecting the same result.
Resulting in breaking walls as I go.
I go to the edge and I plummet I fall.
I fall into darkness, I crawl through my past.
My past is haunting, accepting my fate.
Artistry, music, words are my game.
Games that I play as I coalesce words.
Doesn't mean that I trust.
I pay attention I must.
Words and actions tell a story.
Align them with self and find personal glory.
God like, like god, we are beings of greatness.
I am God you are God, the treachery is complacence.
Actions speak louder than words they say.
Yet words cut deep, their master they obey.
Pay attention to attention, the crux of awareness.
Expansion this mansion on what sort of foundation.
Construction of destruction will find you for sure.
Unless you destruct the construct of programs.
Societal concepts that go against nature's hand.
Be a man, don't cry, you fight like a girl.
Binary concepts, antiquated world.
I'm a man, but I feel so much like a woman.
Androgyny, emotional, conceptual feelings.
I love my hair long, I enjoy feeling pretty.
I hide my flamboyance, with this comes self pity.
A constant working in progress, that's me.
To unravel the social learnings I see.
To cry like a human, feel no shame or guilt.
And believe me when I say, on this your religion is built.
Shame shame shame, shame on you for who you are.
Guilty as fuck, for being human you are charged.
For the crime of sin that has never been committed.
Your judgments can eat shit and suck on my dick.
An authentic expression this is what I aim for.
And you may not like my use of words and vulgarity.
But I do not like your hypocritical hilarity.
Preach love, speak hate, then act like a saint.
At least us vagabonds...
Love...
Don't hate.
Time 4:44
'La Loving Logan'
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