Stream of Consciousness Accent

Stream of Consciousness

Stream of consciousness, infinite beams of nonsense
Like a fleeting optimist in the apocalypse
Or dreams of dominance the closest thing to Godliness
Somehow searching for truth inside a script
Vowels & consonants with meaning only I can glimpse
Freedom of speech impedes with constantness
My thoughts recede like continents needing mental pangea
Only stating obviously where the pencil lands deeper
To reach the ear of hearers lyrics need be clearer
But what if the ear is merely he of seer in the mirror
That’s all I see in this sea of seers peering from the theater
The peanut gallery’s rather my peepers peering from nearer
My own naked reflection in the faces of my peers
This stream of consciousness arches from artists like aiming pee-ers
Breather, who am I writing or reciting for?
Thinking cleverer, better or whatever so it’s liked much more
I hope you listen & envision this indifferent scribbling
Maybe to find a message in this mess if not there isn’t then
This room is nothing but a prison that I’m living in
My own mind’s exposed rhymes are bars I bang a tin against
Whether they’re kin or friend or distant witnessing my vocal spin
The thickness of my skull which are these walls is always closing in
Is it selfish to say that y’all are just figments?
Of vivid imagination, emancipated from in this?
Probably it is, honestly I’m still that kid which
Likes to play with words & let the noise move me, for instance
Gibberish giblets, bickering bigots, pickling picnics
Sniveling snippets of devlish dead beats
This lead beast so gnarly snarled darkly through this next sheet
That bled & squeaked, squirrely burrowing squirmishly, &
Blurtingly squirted some blurry speech, something bout geez
Forget about words, let the sounds speak, like…