#43 So Climb Up On Your Prison Cells

As Is What Was is a collection of poems created with no thought at all. None. There is no control over grammar, sound, rhythm, idea, or anything really. Why? I thought it would be fun. Is it insane? Absolutely.

 

Viceroys saddled

With sunny dispositions and exchequer papers

And bills that keep stacking

As the jass slips from fingertips

Into sewers leading to street-wise gangs

That no naught of what fans keep cradling for

And all the lights in neon straight

Gaze on the door

Paps masturbating to the overlord

That’s how the story goes

Page flipping

Rage dipping

Stage si-in stripped

Of any value able treachery

 

There were positions in the state

That’d have made you grow

But the underlined reliable

Beggars go ford

Placed another tune in another stack

But the armoured poets never attacked

So they’re stepping on pyres

To light up the only available mentions

And here they frankly meditate

All in a haze

For the empre’s fate

 

And there were no rain drops littered

On the discarded identities

Of those passed through

So the social security was nothing

But black, red, and blue

All debts overdue

So climb on your prison cells

And start a clamour of hope

White doves are white doves

Until they elope

And that’s just how the story goes

And the gutters were filled with rainbows

But nobody looks down if they’re edisgust reaches up

 

So behold your majestical faces

Streaked with carcasses of palatial spaces

There have been no riots

In a peaceful park

So why stay till after dark?

Oh why stay why state the obvious

Why pray why prey on the obnoxious

There are no loopholes

No rally-dad-daze

No face to look into

For the mirrored parties

The partakes in the avant staze

So they flay the dragon and turn it on a spike

Step up the barbecue

For the public’s delight

 

One thought on “#43 So Climb Up On Your Prison Cells

  1. Vk Sibal says:

    Impressed with the flow of words and the cascade of thoughts. Some interpretation would increase the enjoyment. Thanks

    On Wed, 6 May 2020 at 11:46 PM, Owl in a Coffee Cup wrote:

    > Arnav Sibal posted: ” As Is What Was is a collection of poems created with > no thought at all. None. There is no control over grammar, sound, rhythm, > idea, or anything really. Why? I thought it would be fun. Is it insane? > Absolutely. Viceroys saddled With sunny d” >

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