I had a train of thought
but I lost it
now I am looking for another one
or maybe
I’ll just tune in and drop back out
it faded
why not further..
wait
sit visualize yourself in that moment
that moment you had that thought

I was driving, and lost in the subconsious act
Autopilot enagaged
bzzzzt (Buzzing sounds of the machine taking over)

They used to call me king of kings
I had so much, so many
till I had no thing
I tried to tell them
I am no King
I tried to tell them
they still hear no thing

Thats when I lost my train of thought

I jumped off the train of my thoughts while it was moving
it was the hardest thing one could ever do

are you keeping up with this mumbo jumbo?
Are my words making sense, or is it all just lumbo dumbo?

One person at this party
joked with me about how
the light at the end of the tunnel was a train

I laughed and told him that I jumped of that train
that train was my train of thoughts
moving, so you better get out of the way

I wanted to be something
and ended being everything
I only wanted one some thing
it didnt have to be all every thing

The scent of a warrior
in his pijamas
visits the goddess at night
a temptress of a smell
her memories ring the eternal bell
orgasm her heaven
God there is no hell.

A writer holds his quil after midnight
to tell the tale of two lovers
after a whole long time spent working on the plot
hours, days, weeks, months and years
he gathers his might, all in just one night
and drops the cliche
he burns up the write up
up in smoke it goes.
up up the story no one knows.

Now the writer writes
for the sake of the words
not for the sake of the story
for a story implies a timeline
beginning climax end
click clock, what’s the point of the
tick tock?
while words hold close to the true
essence of the expression
an admission to the impression
that extends in through progression

Oh the words that I have stuck inside
stuck so high up a steep hill
oh the words that need
not a writer
but it requires a climber to fetch these words
not a writer
but it requires a warrior to say these words
not a writer
but it requires a singer to perform these words
not a writer
but it requires a salesman to sell these words
not a writer

get it to your head, I am not a writer

Not a writer, writing words from his bed
not a writer feeling mumbo jumbo in his head
not alive nor dead
not a pen nor a bread

catch my drift? or should we surf another wave?

I am only the instrument through which these words misbehave—

meee—owww

Lucy