The... Disciple Poem by KarlRomeo PierreLouis

The... Disciple



Even as the third person, my hand shakes
scribbling forth words and letters
in crazy form and melody
leaving space between each impression
of my pen for deception and subjection
in the accumulation of verbs and nouns
I lay open the decipher codes of my very soul
backstrokes and ink drops would release me
unleash the heat and passion below the sounds
that speak in broken language and charm
claim me as an orphan of the word and paint
of rolling fathers and mellow mothers
stifled tenderly against the heavy bosom
of whom I'll assume the birth giver of my Mecca
and color, feather and pen
bite and release the lips of lovers and remitters
that capture the nature of my Godiva chocolate mind
second thoughts and bright eye, moonshine memories
resurrected and glorified in fifty-two bars
no guards just gatekeepers and rotten influences
caressing the certain lines sicker and deeper
than the before fairytales and happily after's
of what should'a, would'a made her sing for me
believe in me, but as for now leave it behind me
analogies I leave with the mark of the beast
fingerprinted and guilty for a single-celled delivery
cut and refined in the galore and glass precision
that dreams mold past pages and screens
supplications & documented calculations
I fade......I fade in the third person......

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KarlRomeo PierreLouis

KarlRomeo PierreLouis

Port au Prince, Haiti
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