Golden Shellbacks Poetry in Life's Platue

Mr Purveyor

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Mr purveyor pass me the whiskey and a mythic to foretell my future’s fortunes.
Mr Purveyor of time tell me
my good fortunes in futures time.
It seems the history of misfortunes
of past time’s are the burning scars of my mind.

A shot of whiskey Mr purveyor of time
Is it  worth my future’s fortunes
Or a compromise of your so called wicked demise.

Mr purveyor of time pass the whiskey
and the mythical hands that scar my mind.
Purveyor of my mind’s eye,  pass the whiskey
with shots of a wicked compromise in my demise.

Mr Purveyor of time the conveyor
of wicked realities the disciple of a
wickedly conspicuous mind.
Pass around the whiskey &
a shot of rounds,
Mr Purveyor of time.
Cheers

Mr Purveyor of time what will I find
due future’s fortune,  Ahh
Smooth and dry whiskey and rye.
Mr Purveyor
The sands of time echo my destiny.
The ringing of my compromise,
settling the dispute of my demise.
Seduce my mind ravage my body.
Preclude nothing sweep
the riddling filth of my mind.
Ravage the beast of my body
Senses awaken the devil is seeking
Succulent aromas therapeutic beauties.

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#poet #poetry #Wicked #Romancer

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4 responses

  1. amazing in every way possible…on the lines, between the lines, and behind every choice of word!

    Liked by 1 person

    January 27, 2015 at 13:37

  2. I’ve rarely had bad experiences sipping a good whisky and reading this reminds me of the good times…

    Liked by 1 person

    January 28, 2016 at 12:27