Poetry in Motion

I'm the tyger and the lamb, both sides of the issue
The misuse will kiss you and hit you in the soft tissue
Frost on my heart, I take the road less traveled
Or maybe the high one, it really depends on the battle
The way I handle things is like Parkinson's and partisans
So I will shake spears until you recognize my artisan
This partner ship of spoken word I've got so locked
And I act bolder, want the truth? I've got the proof rock
Cockiness is a crime? Well then I'm a dick in sin
Boxer without a glass jaw: there is no liquor chin
Or does it explode? I'm the renaissance man
Better floss? Damn you're missing the inner cause stand
I excel, well, in due time you will have to tell
But my hard exterior is just a lyrical shell
Living where the sidewalk ends, the lights in the attic
The tactics aren't drastic but rather automatic
Measuring my life in afternoons and in coffee spoons
My head is concocting curvy tunes
Sounds good like a bell? For whom it tolls?
I'm kicking it like in front of me is all of my goals
But check the control and just remember the things
Re visit the facts, why does the caged bird sing?
Ask yourself these questions, I'll be arriving soon
And I'm coming. You'll know when you hear that mellow croon
Yes I just swoon when I can hear your heart Pound
I'll do to you like spring does to the blossoms now
Woman so phenomenal, spirit so unconquerable
Dignity incomparable, this loneliness intolerable
So what is the mean value, what are my words worth?
Is it a curse from death to birth, from stanza to verse?
Or is it something more, something out of a hearse
For we dare to disturb the elegance of the universe
The neat little order, we won't be deferred
Our dreams will let us imagine wildly absurd
So as I lay in my messy room, thinking of many things
Of shoes and ships, of cabbages and kings
I start to write songs of myself, songs for no one else
Songs for the little vagabond, hoping it will help
Why you ask? Well, I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I can fall asleep
I'm walking across on this solo bridge
Making diamonds as I perch upon this coal ridge
Even under all this pressure, this ruler you can't measure
I'm the captain of my soul, liberated so much better
13 ways to look at a blackbird
Infinite ways to look at words so go ahead and call me a nerd
But this doctor is quicker than a fox in socks
And in thought, I'm blocked from ever being stopped
So we so cool, we so hot, fire and ice
The words I write are a fine invention: very nice
Glazed with rain water, I'm trying to remain proper
Because even matters of the heart belonging to a scholar
Will confuse the brain. So we write and we start
And we love our crooked neighbors with crooked hearts
And our crooked heads and our inflated noggins
Hounded by heaven so we feel like Francis Thompson
We fancy ourselves to be just as thorough
But words do not uplift the dead, they truly burrow
So whether for immortality or the pursuit of fun
The firmness makes my circle just; and makes me end where I just begun