Mastering a Head Trauma
Mastering a Head-Trauma
School recovering those letters,
flying about the page-
(to make some sense of it)
‘Tis constant time to line
up words-
To obey the classroom
page-
The blackboard sneezes
flakes of snow-
Achoo my mouth replies-
as a rash crawls
up my arm.
Itching out repulsive
responses,I should
say to raise-
and on and on we go….
( My dog silently moans
on my lap
waiting,
tirelessly to grab
my scruff,
before falling into a
F’ing seizure )
Sentences, questions, facts,
unagreeable.
Sick and tired day to day-
the blackboard yawns-
Ringing up the sentence
rings up the reader
start the sentence
with ING, to meet
your tone of action-
ACTIVATE a speed-TO RUN-TO CATCH-
therefore,sprinting, sending,
amending,promising, regarding,
grading, degrading-
not lamelike; she,he, i-i-i....it, ha,hey... erase, replace-
Slipping and sliding to reach a dot(.) posing with a sideways smiley smile(,) and on and on we go(;)
blink blank as my eye
patch slides-
one side to another
(My dog commands
my tongue; “sit” and “down” F’ing seizure)
Shall I be stoned -
in order to laugh
at my weakness?
Wearing the excuse
of laughing at what's
not understood-
Chalk on the board laughs in agreement
Guinea pig pinned up squeezes out an ouch
Homework ruler taps,
Words straight up
with a lack of vocals
to drink.
Slouched over a format.
zig-zagging with fingerless traction.
run on and on and on we go-.
blackboard sick and tired of my half closed eyes-
pinching my semi- paralysed face-
to wake up
my funeral wake nearly posed
abstract, images,do not chase your tail about-
The chalk sneezes
flakes of snow-
black board shivers
from the cold-
posting a blanket
to warm up for a slumber party-
Chaos is legal
to create rhythms of fun...
hell -
bells-
correction-
neglected -
as i sit in the classroom thinking,i can't do versus, before when i didn't want to.
The backboard snoring in silence, tired of my scribbled my kinda of mind
Huff and puff the dungeon door drops chains of labor
rocks swaying unbalanced as the river dashes aside
King comes forth,”thou…”
my eyelids are laced
in shackles. covering
my mouth with silence,
feet in a fury to run-
into a toll booth with with no changes in mind