Shamanism

What I've written with my pen are unmitigated words
As i rip it with the pen every lyric that ya heard
Austere and sincere everysingle verb
like a blur or a flash you're assimilated fast
into in articulate sickle thin rhymes predicated on the cash
on guns, like jet li im the one
I only spit from the tongue
hotter than volcanic magma people beter run
like vesuvious it flows form my orifice of prose
I'm the grooviest and moving mister misstresses and bros
from the town as i bound from the crown of mt kilauea
fuji to st. helens im a lyrical soothsayer
shaman bombin ant better lyrical attack no common rhyming common timing neo pluralistic crap
frequency of speaking trees don't comminucate to saps
on my lap is a drum that will make the spirits hum
by my boots is a flute that makes apparitions scoot
to my aft is a staff that will help with my craft of my totemic polemic against unsophisticated raps
a pandemic endemic to the entire map
healing waves healing chains bringing knowledge to the brain
of psychology ontology through incremental rain
to a plane of nourishment empiricists full of existential bane
educated disputatious and creative poems are the dance for the rain we need to water our homes
in my dreams I have seen on my elemental vision quest a mask with a task
tellin me i must finish next fertilize the soil to renew and regenerate
after toil without spoil you'll be able to delineate good from the bad
and then wont nobody imitate
like weeds tryin to replicate and propogate the fullest
I feed with originality
the tree of the ages he decreed my individuality
be us to spread the seed of the sages
a magus in emerald and paisley blue raiment
took a look in sheer and utter amazement
revived and alive for all time the spark that set the prairie fire extinguished by the waters of the mind

Peer Through Mists

I peer through mists
That shroud what's real
This light now risks
To cloud what I feel

The phantasm shade
Of illusory arcana
Has urged and forbade
My entrance to realms untamed

While holy and serene
This cloud upon which I reside
Is nothing more than a dream
Still, I can't decide

Should I go back to sleep
And live my days
In a slumbering, deep apophantic haze

Awake, the ground strikes me as hard
The sight, the sound, equally worthy of discard

Both present their ills
In the clouds, far from grace
And in the land of earthen hills
A wholly unfulfilling place

In the sky, I never gaze the truth
As the earth is tangible
The fall
A loss of the innocence of youth
Or waking to pain more gradual

As it stands, I choose to float
If I reach terra firma
I shall reap what my illusionment has sown