***I must warn the reader that my poem, though it may seem odd, is very well constructed and even has hidden passages in it if you catch them. The grammar is correct in the context in which I am using it. Constructive critics are welcomed of course, however, please know if my punctuation or spelling seems off, please be mindful and remember I am using poetic license for such actions. Perhaps it is for the reader to take note and extra care with that passage of verse. With that being said, please, welcome to my parlor. I think even Dante would be proud of this one.***

Sitting,

the Matrix

presented a

Concrete Jungle.

Thousands of people

Condensed into a wild society.

Some leaders of the world.

Some simply angels

As beggars’ on the streets.

I watch;

see.

Welcomed to a world most

Can not;

Do not;

Are not:

Chosen to see.

Feeling the pain

the blood left

from the Glock

Shot in the night

As Harlem crying baby’s now

Live in Brooklyn

Thinking life is better

On the other side of the Bridge.

Over the water,

through the trees.

Still:

body’s float the same

in

The East Tidal Straight

That flows to Long Island

with out

Recognition or

Sound.

By the plain

I did come

To this Alice in Wonderland box

Of sick,

Twisted,

Exquisite,

Frail,

Beauty.

Seeing the Underworld

Raising the bar

With in

As

Death looms

With

The

Undivided

Near

Existence:

Life we have.

As the daily ticker tapes

Pass

Whole

normal

3rd world countries,

As

the price on their

head is higher

when

Served cold.

Hands;

Minds;

Hearts:

Watch the heartland

Never knowing

never really to see

the slight of hand

That has been exposed to me

In the Original

City of

Superlative,

Luxury

For only

a few can see

with in the veil

the realm with in.

We are the Original Garden.

The Magickal Unseen.

48 hours

in

A day

With

Time Square Ticking

Away in a mediocrity

of passive

aggressive

Terminal

Illness that will

eat like a cancer

Until the sin has

Spread in

rooted tree.

Starting,

with a simple

dream of a lady

See

Much like

Merlyn being lead

To the side of Lancelot

rather than

Seeing

the son

I came by way of the plain

The heartbeat of the unseen.

In dreams

Simple sugar plum

thoughts

Visions

of rainbows

these

Dreams…

Slumber now;

wonder true.

What has this poem to do with you?

For I only write what the muses want me to seek.

For there are miles to go

before I finish the reap.

I came by the plain,

Tis true,

but the apple

poisoned me,

now tis time

for you.

Careful little eyes what you know,

As the slight of hand is your Freedom foe.