a poem by James Sokolowski

I’m coming, I’m coming,
I’ll get there, I’ll get there
Every morning that I wake up, place my head to the ground
Give thanks and praises, I’m homeward bound
Used to roam around but I’m older now

Slowly sippin surahs
Not syrup
To stir up imagination
Frustration with the lost ways of us earth patrons
Facing confrontation with self
For self preservation

Grabbing my boots and these words for the lacing

Steel truths for the chasing
I been a mental patient
Sitting in the recliner of the most high
Releasing these demons
Spiritually preparing for that battle in the sky

Every minute, every second, every hour
The time for atonement is upon us
Let no opponent break the way this brotherhood bonds us

On earth as it is in heaven

Falcon perching, peering from ground zero
Or on the corner of seven
Even the most right angles get tangled by the twisted logic
Of the false profit
Money is the object
From the onset we been objects
Subjected to the subjective
Unseen process
That all things are connected

It’s no wonder that no strings attached
Is what we crave

The fact remains, it’s no exit from this maze
Only mastery of our ways

So don’t cast me in your plays
It’s right here
Center of the universe, that I stays
Milwaukee made, Cream city shouter
Louder than your greenest blunt smoke
Cooler than candy paint and hunnid spokes
I’m trying to concoct the substance that will make em take a hunnid tokes
Share it with a hunnid folks
Forget playing it safe
Time to rock a hunnid boats
Live life like a salute
before the toast
Fashion my name golden

before I’m ghost
On to the next life
Double helix approach

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