Covet and Hanker

Presentations based on impression and reputation

If a fool should follow, only to be trapped in eternal political hell

My hanker became my covet

What once was cared, is now in the back of the brain

You are too much nothing, not enough bone and flesh

You’re a medium I suppose?

Then surely you must know my consumptions

Heavier than the biggest man, more often than waves crashing

Wait, you do not know my consumptions

Take the calories I have, and put them down your hungry throat

No, I am not hungry, I’m completely full

No desire such as you, to starve for false acceptance

My consumptions will not turn to flesh and bone, for they never have

But go towards ambition and respectful self-thought

Your consumption doesn’t go to thought or actions

It has nowhere to go but to your weight

Weight on the body, weight on the mind

Why is your body sown with ink and needle they ask?

It’s an important story to remember, for me, and me alone

Why would you want more they ask?

This is hilarious, as if they own my skin

It’s a sin! It looks unsightly! It should stay bare!

Oh, I see it now

Keep it bare so that you can see your self-reflection

Knowing that you could always control

Each one, ever so pleasing

Purpose, a story, meaning, a reminder

To never be like you, convinced to stay plain and blank

So that others can have their drawings on you, instead of your own

Harmony with the vibration

Smiling with the sound

Each piece is a triumph, I am the creator of my canvas

Is it too much for you? So much that it bothers you in the night?

Must be painful to not have a pencil and brush

So, all you can do, is stab your canvas with the knife that was given to you

Are you cutting your thread? It’s much better long

Who says? I ask as no one answers

How silly, to be afraid to cut a thread that’s forever growing

My thread is cut, it is new, I like my new threads

With disappointment from not one, but two generations before me

I really don’t care

I will dye and cut however I please

Don’t need plain threads to tell me something unhelpful

Some intentions are from nothing but caring

To watch over and protect

Admirable, until in turns into dried sap

Sap that becomes hard and stubborn, cold from no movement

Telling me to conform for your satisfaction, will never satisfy you

Like telling a dog to sit

Once the dog sits, you will only teach it more commands

Just as thread is forever growing and changing

So can be one’s words against thread

In union, they will both grow and change for the better

What makes you listen to that?

There’s nothing worse than a music “Bob”

A music “Bob” is the fly in my food, the tear in my eye

Proclaiming rhythms over others

Proclaiming lyrics over others

As environments are to life experiences

All rhythms and words can’t be compared directly

I listen to what feels right, to what images come in mind

Not all melodies will be heard

Melodies are apart from tyranny, although some see otherwise

Songs brought daydreams

Inner thoughts strung not necessarily by words

But by tune and feeling

A song for a long canyon drive

A lonely feeling being cremated from constructing sentences

Four versus plus four choruses equals any thought or action

One can’t say only two plus two equals four

Because three plus one also equals four

My covet is not the same as yours because I am not your twin

My hanker is not your own because you’re not my mind

Fearing for a change instead of hoping

Looking up at the wall when I should’ve climbed it

I shouldn’t worry however

Young bones can still jump high

A new day awaits new choices

If you’ve ever became a person that drives their own

It’s because you’ve grown tired of others

If the window you look through is dirty and grimy

Look at the details of the window, to see what needs cleaning

Better to see people laugh at you from a clean view

Then to see your own sad expression in a dirty reflection

Cut and die your thread as you please

Sow your body with meaning

Listen to sounds of weeping and defiance

Micromanaging culture from void and boredom

Bigger pictures will forever be string theory to some