(concieved 12.27.03)
3rd eye
dream visions
reality on sound systems
and digital screens//
forced into 
tapping 
potential potential
i'd rather leave alone//
there's a finger on my life
don't know whose
...or who'd care enough
to pay that much attention//
books full of letters
letters make words
words make thoughts
paper universe
falliable malleable
capable of decay//
organically grown 
streams of consciousness
running out of pens
leaking ingenuity 
or maybe just
the narcissitic musings 
of a wannabe nubian//
i think 
my locs need a few inches
before i'm truly authentic//
or was i real
before all that//
sometimes i can't remember 
...there's a lot i can't remember
the pages do that for me
making the price of paper
more than fair//
i need more music
i keep finding my way 
out of the forest
the sounds should 
hide me longer//
and i should open these books more often// 
if i'm not going to meditate
communion of penstrokes
and keyboard clacks
are my only hope//
--if salvation even matters anymore.
(c) 2004 l.a.m.
 
 
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