I Forged at the junction of snoring memories Embers of inspiration bellowed alive by inks of false swipes Lungs of reinforced bars Gauzed rind Emotions tossed into the atlantic jungle - come,let's seek the lost treasure Boosted with false truthfulness Originality hinged upon bias like the monkey on a tree How long shall this ego be massaged by the hands of apparition? For in this paradise, the gentle phallus begins its metamorphosis II The flow of monthly painful joy The tears of innocent petals dripping from friction Creative thighs telling truthful tales of countless generation; who is a better bard? Docile are her lips Numb are her thoughts Lame are her actions "Do as you are told" "In obedience you should be bold" This pure energetic conscience is yanked off from exploration like a stalk saluted by the gleaming length of the angry sword Bought and handed over; a living gift who screams silence.