Lorenzo Buford
This body
Man condemns
Man poison
How he sleeps in filth
Forgetting this body
Is a ship
A vessel that sails
The waves of time
This body
This vessel
Carries consciousness
With full memory
From one level to the next
He becomes the anchor
To a myriad of dimensions
He is the walker between spaces
Yet he sits like some filth creature
Eating the essence of
Polluted consciousness
To serve his mud wringing urges
Forgetting that he is a fragrance
In a container
That can ride
Beyond the time
He measures with his mouth and his eyes
Beyond the touch
That he reduces to sensation
Without grasping the realities
Behind everything he touches
But when he is not the filthy stranger
Exposing himself in alleyways
Eating the consciousness of children
Playing with his private parts
As if he is a TV character
From the Unseen Puppeteers.
He might remember
He is a wave rider.
He is a star gate.
His body is a time machine
But alas, most chose
To sit in the cemetery
Sipping blood with the other dead things
Making political decisions
In the land of the dead.
NEXT: Mind Parasites
More Information? - please contact Lorenzo Buford.