The Beat Poem by Christopher Cariad

There you where,
Within your meditative state.
High on nitrous oxide
Repeating to yourself,
"I have the moan of doves and the feather of ecstasy."
Salivating over a nice juicy c_ _ k.
Listening to the thumping of your heart
against your chest.
Hearing the color of illness
Wanting to get closer to your mother
In this disillusioned madness.
The pounding becomes louder,
we all get institutionalized eventually.
We all fall to the mentality of this world
in one way or another.
"I have the moan of doves and the feather of ecstasy."
Eyes closed, laid back on that bed.
The dove soars and the beating continues,
Continues in the feet of those that walk this life.
Singing, '...I will die only for poetry, This will save the world...'
The Beat, Continues.