freestyle sonnets

If you get my One Thousand Feathers pamphlets (prescriptions for the future, access to the past), then these will eventually show up as parts of a new Freestyle Sonnets pamphlet at some indeterminate and somewhat unpredictable point in the future. But here a few for those rare motherfuckers that still happenstance upon this site still.

ain’t never no peacock, natural born gamecock,

even when I’m cooped up, I’ve got a free range heart,

with knowledge to impart and instill in hard rock

heads of my offspring born to be performance art

scratching the surface of earth in wild spirals, led

by their spirit more than numbers getting brain crunched,

or soul getting gut punched, their intuition inbred

by mack mental prowess; this bird tribe shall stay hunched

behind your holograms of freedom, built with blood

made of copper, we understand shadow dwelling

is necessary for survival of true mud

mindframes, being outnumbered by the fast swelling

masses of drone cyborg soft wire brained mockingbirds

building intelligence through blindness to black crow words

tapping ties with steel toes chasing horizons west

or south or wherever this open car may go,

I’m not particular to place but strange faces look best

regardless of the light; I’ve attempted to know

a home and a bed to where routine was achieved,

kept my hair trimmed presentably for better work,

better pay, better days promised, yet I received

nothing but discomfort, more bills would always lurk

behind the ones I wrestled away, multiplied

in force, when the freedom I was chasing was right

there behind every freight whistle; this world lied

with what it offered but also lied still each night

and that didn’t match my heart’s wild palpitation,

so I tromped away from life stuck in one station

all the rewilders seem to be white people when

seems it was them who had over-cultivated

civilization in the first place, giving men

climate controlled comfort for domesticated

creatures to survive even thrive despite living

contrary to feral beginnings learning fire

to crawl towards burning permanence, misgiving

progress to the rest of nature, bound by barbed wire,

and now they come bowing back - white skin in brown clothes,

sheltered noses turned upwards at those who refuse

to accept the blank-eyed gazes of those who chose

to say purposely “we rewild” when this mind ruse

to feel better about man’s tinkering with planned

tinkering in reverse still doesn’t understand

better to force words to fit ancient way rhyme schemes,

but not too ancient because wasn’t no words wrote

back when you worked the fields with no room for day dreams

because every moment was it, no footnote

to refer at, deferring to wisdom obtained

by scanning scribbles with meanings using two eyes

connected to memory bank investments trained

to attach abstract concepts to the lines that rise

off flat papers, abstractions built together tall

to create warnings and stories and histories

and give depth to fleeting moments, to help install

meaning to the mundane, moving the mysteries

of existence into books that exist only

to share man’s past minutes, making life less lonely

shadowland mind puppets born from massive neglect

of intellect, left to rot staring at boxes

of extra-sensory deception, we henpecked

of our thousand feathers by electro-foxes

praying upon bended knees in cubicle chairs

where our asses is as fat as cookies hidden,

crumbling the hard drive into lost fragmented lairs

of despair and distorted contortions given

freely, freedom and free dumber both doubling down

on recovery techniques that never tested

publicly or were proven to be cap-and-gown

worthy, but all alternatives weren’t divested

thoroughly, but that’s okay we stroll lack-a-dazing,

stars light the path, but we blind indoors screen grazing.