tricky words

he spit tricky words
it was beautiful
and with detached meanings
and loosely defined messages
it remained beautiful

i won't front...
i couldn't understand a word he said.
it just sounded pretty
but made absolutely no sense

i don't know if it was simply because his inspiration didn't speak my language
or maybe i wasn't educated enough
maybe i wasn't as well versed as his verses
line by line he confused me with each progression
verbs pushing to action the ideas i could not follow

and with detached meanings
and loosely defined messages
i enjoyed it.
i loved his performances
running across the stage and winning the race of words
that didn't exist.
speaking a language i couldn't understand
and i,
in awe that i could never learn to catch his tongue
twisted beyond any of my intelligence
staring at the tricks his lips released

all those words lost on the tips of every tongue
he used to tip toe right around all my own reality
cause me to feel that my confusion merely based on ignorance
i felt the bliss of it
and he relearned a reality i was willing to decipher

i hardly believe he would be willing to teach it
maybe it was on purpose.
to leave us struggling for meanings that didn't seem to exist
trying to find connections
while each word actually was only defined in galaxies apart
rejoining his own universe
his poem created the planets he used
to play hopscotch past anything my fingers could ever touch
my feet too sloppy
too confused
too clumsy to ever keep up

with his inspiration that spoke too many crazy tongues
spitting in so many directions that my mind could not even catch it
i couldn't grasp his intentions even if i tried

and maybe...
he merely reminded me
in my stupor
that my place remained there...
sitting in the audience
simply in awe of what i couldn't understand
but damn, it sounded so good.