Brain storming

My friend has a nerd-hop band, and has a collaborative writing email that he send out to a bunch of writers he knows. He send out one saying he wanted more words for a poem that described poetry.

Words crack forward in your skull,
just grab some rhythm, and go, daddy-o.
And to complicate it quite simply,
is a reason to get them all hooked.
Like sin, the sound floats gently,
when to be heard or be looked.
Adverbs are mine,
rhythm and rhyme,
the lips, the teeth, the tip of the tongue keeps the time.
Poetry booms in a thunderous sound,
the ground shakes, additives get down.
Synapses snap with a clap of insane,
the words drop in a hard, torrential rain.
Verbs howling, scowling, blowing wind-scar,
as it bends the trees nature’s whammy bar.
Gale-force metaphors move your ship.
The tongue on the tip, of the teeth, of the lip,
keeps the time in line with a storm front in mind.
Similes hail, smacking hill and dale,
elements before which all creatures do quail.
And you tell by the smell or look in my eye,
that my adverbs flash as they light up the sky.
As the words make wind, a DJ makes beats,
get up on your feet, GET THE F**K UP ON YOUR FEET!!
Language leaps lively,
showers you frozenly.
This poetry is all that I am,
I am a sentence you cannot diagram.
Drenched to the bone, Muse reigns on her throne,
all alone, no cover, no shelter to be shown just feel the wind, and hear rhythm everywhere.

Author's Note

I guess you'd have to hear this with music, and hear the delivery of the piece to really understand it.
Ignore spelling.
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