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Kristoff Krane
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Private Permission
Its time to man up and quit actin like a robot—no man goes deprogrammed—in the land of covered sore spots---when comforts hand knocks on my door I keep my door locked-
Keep my feet planted firmly to the floor like angry warlock---and as soon as midnight strikes—the hands of time---grab my neck—I sit and write like it's the last night of my life---and I pretend like im fine—the problem is---Ive lost my high----and life wont fit inside my pipe— its my pysche I don't think he really likes my kind—--set fire—ignite my insight----on the flipside--how'd it get--- wet---Its sweat a result from the bombthreats from who ever has my conscience in hostage---no im not sick—Im gifted and I will not forfeit----Im pregnant with beauty—and I aint havin no abortion—-I wont cut the umbilical chord---this things enormous—i'm getting naceous—lifeless—more or less—tortoise tucked head—itchin---prociline doll---organs--------A big almighty man scared of a little bitty critters----is in fear of that which possesses the opposite of his weakness—
In my hand is a pledge in my hands is my head---in my head is plan---in my plan----is a sketch----why are you always watching me----go a head fill me in---go ahead fill me in---you got my permission---Im not your property---
-my common--cognitive sequence covers tracks—he's hard to follow-----sort of like anticipations of what occupies tomorrow—I walk my blind seeing eye dog—on all hands and knees---tryin to squeeze the breeze tight like python-excersise the muscles of my mind----until my mind pops out of my eye sockets—Ill be fine—with the sight of a cockeyed Cyclops--— find me-between-the fine line of idolized and Resentful---in denial---pullin my skeleton behind me—with a smile pulled over my head—cuz its messy-----point my light in any direction-----I fight for an entrance--- a secret-----exit into permanence—beating death with a firm grip—Im cracked-- drenched in a waxy coat of resistance—so hold the maginify glass as close as you can up to my image----and when I drip into the cracks—of the cement---im skinny dippin—in the rushing stream of consciousness---with no life jacket on----pryin back the filter caps----what goes in---will stay in-you can never scrub the residue—-therefore I brain storm--keep your face warm—c---
--In my hand is a pledge in my hands is my head---in my head is plan---in my plan----is a sketch----why are you always watching me----go a head fill me in---go ahead fill me in---you got my permission—
--In my hand is a pledge in my hands is my head---in my head is plan---in my plan----is a sketch----why are you always watching me----go a head fill me in---go ahead fill me in---you got my permission—
Im not your property, you got my permission.
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