A poetess of no structure
I bet you taste sweeter
Your passion runs deep within
You shall not be contained
By any man nor concept
You hold the power
To your own release
A Poetess Of No Structure
concept
Rubbing Their Fingers Over The Stereo Knob
Rubbing their fingers over the stereo knob
The frequencies distorted on the airwaves
Kings of the new world & thus apocalyptic
Searching for something more pragmatic to crave
These technocrats with no concept of reality
Tasking – without offering an alternate fate
Demanding citizens for homages to be digital
With no power to control – or else we attenuate
Words of peace have the chance to amplify
Even when we’re feeling out of time/out of sync
Don’t need their fiber optic lies to survive
A blind man loses all when forced to blink
Tapping into a passion without any circuits
Our transistors are live; we’re lovers thus discrete
There’s no stopping us when their signal’s weak
There’s nothing but fire & sparks when our wires meet
This life is forever altered now we’re here
Do not attempt to adjust the squelch
You’re listening to Radio Free America
Standing proud & robust like Raquel Welch
Unplugging From The Mainframe
Unplugging from the mainframe
Remaining forever off the grid
Don’t need their connections
Don’t know if we ever truly did
The final tragic hero of a modern culture
The soul survivor of a discarded revolution
Histories & experience outside the norm
Dreams of freedom with divine attribution
Dealing with the conceits of perfection
The concepts of loneliness & betrayal
This world isn’t what we were promised
Token hints lost behind a fractured veil
The answers are hidden beyond this life
It may look bleak, but don’t you fret
We have the Source of Light
& they’re still riding that ol’ dialup internet
These Stories Are Figments Of Hope
These stories are figments of hope
Simple words from a mind of an everyday man
These theatrics of an unknown sort
Living through each day without scope or plan
Journey to the water’s edge to find a salve
To bathe our souls in God’s great sea
I’m not close to your idea of perfection
But I’m forgiven; a better concept to be
Her Concept
Closing my hand around her concept
The starkness of her blonde aspiration
Seeing the truth behind her veil
My ministrations lead to her liberation
