Slams - Poem by jerome moore
real and pure
come from the bottom up
inversion takes a man and throws him in the slams
credit is good
hierarchy is good
Moratorium of thought
leadership, pride, ignorance.
Turn the star
rotate the pyramids
open the cage
break your cross
its bad to be locked up and worse to be locked up and believe your free.
six pointed stars float beneath opaque ocean tides
broken neck bottles pull me under
and the wind whistles a familiar song
as I float on.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You