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Below is the poem entitled Man-Cat-Baby-Demon which was written by poet Jimmi Canada. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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I am scrolling down hill

Folding the pills

Elongating the tree's
and simplifying the breeze

I am a song to be played-
earlier than you might say-
in the day

When hearing is a complaint
and danger is delayed

But you are a spade,
to be wondered and craved

You are your own way

With the sing of the slave-
above the haze

Glazed with the betrayed

Honed in on like waves

So stubborn your gay

Holding on to the page

Don't you walk that way! 

Troubled little weaver-
always weavin' in and out of the days-
with your face,
and two others that may show you the way

So...Whenever there is game-
whenever you are just being insane

Two others can ring your ping

Scratch at your lawn

Ease your bickering fawn,
who is ages old-
cranky and yet cold

Shines like the rivers of silver soles

Wasted and bold

...Blanketing and broad like the system of the slots

Put in a coin so you can jog-
with your eye's,
and with your pogs

Fall to the floor,
while dude ranchers await cry's out the doors

Become single and slower

Dangerous like snow blowers

Manned by cats,
with fake joints hangin' in their lips crowin'

As they are growin'
and sowing

The stage is set to start goin'

But you stay all knowin'

With the people out there- asses a blowin'

(...) Like the sound of the tick was that on it

Like the leaper out of time was so subordinate 

You know you could have grabbed mine

You know about other ways to shine

But still you sit and grind

Sleep and unwind

Base your catches on other famous people's finds

... I dont't confide

I really don't try

I just hear god and ask about the water in the sky 

Why doesn't it come down on African pride? 

When they need it most? 

When we know 911 proved evil the most...

But sit here and boast

And you'll hear gods jokes

He's got what a man needs

He's got you underneath a sheet

So don't breathe

Just start running

Got the mustard? 

Pray for a plead

Because random people leave

While friends try and greet

An acre of land with animals and plants couldn't please

Even if they spoke the language, and cured the disease

Sorry if I sound meek

But pride comes when I'm done writing these

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