xoet the poet

A package of timing sticks

A package of timing sticks

Speech slowed and held back, recalistrant
They don't allow me what to say what I said
The priests talk around it obliquely
Burn the dog well to eat oh boy

Chip that rock in its hard place and
Put what's left in the glass pipe cake
Pose for the picture and smile on film
Cry for your life and fear the other

Otherwise you know how to die it's the work>
Of a lifetime to judge yourself
You love yourself the least of all
Wrong you know it's not to cool to pay

Exposed to your fall I grew it high
Split by your spitting on me I change
Sounds like you know I know you know
Spill the colour on the puddle to be

Be well and live too long it is song
New realities shapes make thing s real again
Scared of fire and pain that line is finished
Wiser than that to committ a comment

Say it aloud cry for my eyes have seen
Knest thought qool would be clean well
Hate is lost to the conformity in the now
Junkies hate the pain and love the insanity

posted by Bill Newbold @ 1/11/2006 09:30:00 AM