The Mythodic Howl Of Survival

THE MYTHODIC HOWL OF SURVIVAL

the wail of the classics grit
their devine works to pitch
a banner of fragments on the fly
to stir academic juices with a climb
upon the ivy wall.

conquer the rich loudly without scorn
as i throw my melancholic rope
and let it dangle and drip with
true beauty from a life long battle
with victorious song of redemption without war.

a simple rush of kubla khan echoes
a musical treaty of lodged memories
from all this time of buried creativity
as I splatter my blood across the page
as if to call ancestral truths.

the magnitude of this cry is to reach
the multitudes with magnificent proportions
to justify the the significant notes of blues
in a pentatonic lead racing from the fingers.

Dante gathers as a stream with an eager
look to the sky as if to say, "walk with me
along the banks and I'll show you how to gamble
like bukowski placing a bet beside a whore."

My flesh is a book of discovery,
that even virgil's apparition might wallow
in my skin and carry my soul to higher platitudes.
shades of affection are lifted wings to the gods.

the tormented pities of my past
have been wrung in the hands of cain -
no need to weep as it is the fruit
of my beloved experience.

sweet desires sieze the flames of love -
for other pages must follow in its roots
with longing lips trembling with happiness
as it feels like zanadu as I prostitute my heart
with a good wrenching for the world to know.