Found It

I was looking for a way to put my pen to paper

I was walking all the roads just to find that place, huh

My boots all worn out, my mind couldn’t be made up

When I thought I reached the goal, it told me “see ya later”

The sun didn’t help, always shining in my eyes

The wind was a snag, slowing movement of my thighs

But I kept on moving, I never stopped walking

Stumbled many times and drank oceans of coffee

I was lost in a maze, I was lost, often fazed

Blind alleys in my head, I created such a space

My mind’s creativity was misdirected

Misconstrued, often defected

Now I’m trying to get my style perfected

Get inside ya head and make ya brain infected

Can see the statue of my rhymes being erected

With your votes for the presidency elected.

Back up to the moment when I finally found the Grail

A sight for sore eyes after numerous derails

Found the right track to follow without fail

Fire burning hot, free to tell my tale.

No more pain, no more grief, a sigh of relief

No longer oxygen's thief I embraced the belief

First step to my dreams, reached and achieved

But it's just the beginning, you'll quickly see

As I develop and nurture the almighty skill

Obtain ancient techniques of operatin' the quill

Wranglin' between my rhymes like a crafty eel

Testing strength of mind and power of will

Constructin' collages of images of rhyming syllables

Piecing together things both explosive and beautiful

Climbing towers effusive all the way to the ceiling

Bursting through, experiencing unforgettable feelings.

Follow me on this journey, it's an invitation

A never-ending grand ball, call off your vacation

Wear a nice dress, you know the address

Let's dance a tango of rhymes, relax, no stress

Forget all the pains of your everyday life

This is a room of joy, not fields of strife

Strike a match, ignite, and fly so high

Embrace the light of the day and the darkness of night

Revel in the moment, be a part of the style

A pioneer of the art, it really ain't hard

Once you open your eyes and open your heart

Open your ears and hear sounds from afar

Distant noises that at first don't make much sense

I'll help you understand, give me a chance

Lemme guide you on the path, with creation romance

Make it the way in which the world we'll enhance.

Bosoms & Buttocks

All your dreams shall come to pass
If you grab some tits and ass
When you sometimes feel harassed
Fight off foes with tits and ass
When you’ve reached critical mass
Hold on tight to tits and ass
After you drank a seventh glass
You’ll sure love those tits and ass
If you’re acting very crass
You ain’t gettin’ tits and ass
When your head gets hit with brass
Heal it fast with tits and ass
You can guess she’s a good lass
If she’s more than tits and ass
If you’re known to let out gas
You can still get tits and ass

So don't give up

The cruel dual rule of the fool is a cool tool

I am using an amusing musing as I let out a mellow hello on a yellow cello to a bellowing fellow outside a bordello while I eat pork with a fork after work and I uncork the wine, not moonshine, as I wait in line to dine on divine bovine I smell pine; it’s past nine, where are you, Clementine?

She’s a duchess in her britches who draws sketches in batches, her face slightly twitches while it itches as she watches and scratches and snatches and fetches a peasant on crutches and switches the stitches while burning witches and throwing bitches into ditches or hatches with closed latches, that’s how she of people dispatches, no escaping her clutches.

Inside she is good slightly misunderstood although a bit prude sometimes can be rude and if I could then I should and I would *interlude* improve her mood, she makes great food and gives me wood.

We never fight; our love is bright as a light as we embark on a flight with Messrs. Wright in great height (higher than a kite), what a sight in the night I can’t quite feel right: it’s a fright, as we might explode like dynamite and we did, oh shite!, it wasn’t slight, what a plight, someone call Knight Dwight, as she and I our lips bite it’s our last rite, can’t write, hold on tight, who’s this wight, I see white…