The difference between you and me
is your lack of dauntless will.
You claim to know the word ambition
But sadly you are the latest act of the farce called:
One Dense Bitch.
No matter how you ache,
your tears don’t reflect your pain,
nor your mouth gargles the bacteria
paramount to dissolve weak willed minds.
My obsession with explosions and commotions,
Dragons, dungeons, whips, and sword-tips
does not falsify an aesthetic forged on a malady
of a simplistic, stupid point of view.
My eyes cannot see six feet in front of them,
but to hell with that, they are blessed by Horus,
As i can see ideas dance a mambo with old prophets
When they ride a bracchiosaurus with nuclear powered rockets.
I think I’ve seen your wit’s end.
Prove me wrong, for my rapier tongue
By critically wounding the ignorant,
made fools evolve into artists.
But my bladed taste sensor
did not take any pity on them,
In near artistic death, they were reborn,
They gave birth to their true selves.
So be wary… I will kill you
One pierce through the eye and mind
Let me see resolution, bestow on me confusion
And pull out the blade, let your creativity revive.
Contributor: Jose R. Porrata
Copyright © 2014 Jose Porrata. All Rights Reserved.