Canvas of Inner Truth

I dont bite/
i eat breakbeats and regurgitate sunshine/
all over the cold nights sky/
in time with the sundial/
and the heart beat, in exile/
outkast by brush strokes in opposition/
the steady maniquin hand of the politician/
marrianettes in most pallettes, im paint clarinette red/
with a touch bass blue dipped notes of color smothered in soul and full ahead/
counting headz with precision, division of preminition/
frum their origion, thwarting predetermined images from the source of intuition/
improvisation through visual eminations of taste sensation/
approximation of my souls vibrations/
struggling 2 express my inner galactic space/
a universally smiling face of amazing grace/
misplaced/
tossed into vortex of spiritual context above intillect/
hand me a brush and i'll paint the sky with rhythmic earthtones/
the heavy earth of a snare drum materializing thru headphones/
a cast stone/
pulled thru the suction of my spiritual/
painted a rainbow of vocally lyrical turned the spherical/
projectile of previusly harmful intent into an orb of prizmic vision/
upon collision/
bringing instantanious interveinious expressionism/
subterrainian medicinal methods of soul transfusionism/
subcutainiously enlightening thru a hailstorm of sketchings/
rushing hand blessings/
swimming in the sights of sound/
and far frum earth bound.