Perfidy and perjury committed in the 3rd degree
Disturbs perturbs and burns to see
Deception acting urgently
Project non fact eternally
Wicked with hyperbole
Rock the psychs infernally
Like mics inside a furnace heat
Lit the burning bush to burn the trees
Earned a badge for serving these
Misdirect abject infected word disease
Deceive Across the vertices
Of the Universe of true emcees
Do emcees choose to be
Full of false impurities
I’m sure of the majority
Is falsely full accordingly
To fill up the minorities
For sure of these distorted G’s
Snortin keys in war machines
Marionettes in cord and string
Pull the plug Pinocchio
So I can see your nose will grow
With every secret puppet flow
They teach your speak to pump it yo’
In stereo, you can’t even hear me though Mysterio
And I reference Aesop Rock material
Cheery-O! My rhymes can Float like cereal
Mercurials ethereal, but pots of thought imperial
You ought to be empirical if you wish to speak the spiritual
Appearing in a miracle, of lyrical and spherical
All encompass, ears are full
Feeding you and feeding you
The truth you want to breed in you
Proof of great emcees and crews
Read the news, I shock biters like Pikachu
Proceed to move like Betelgeuse
Through galaxies of pink and blue
Bring back A Guide to read you
Of the Hitchhiker appeal to
Bring out a towel and eel stew
Unagi soggy seal food
Trumpet 7 real moods
So God can see that these are fools
So flush the world and feel good
The trouble with all you tribbles
Is simple: Getting rid of a parasitic organism in love with replicating the same tired, tried and false, reproducing clones, inducing the presence of mindless drones. Is a battle for Mad Max’s Thoughtdome.
2 Thoughts Enter, 1 Thought leaves
Attempt to deceive the sheep in the eye of the creator
Intend to receive the grievous ire of The Vader
My pleas to please the frequency in each one of delinquencies
Carpe diem ink to seize, and the link the breeze of veracity
With tenacity, actively passing torch from sea to blighted sea
Pilot the skylit F-23, to violently, silently
Bomb on perfidy, perniciously and viciously
Til I catch 22 of them dead in the Dune.
Earnestly, the Foundation for A Brave New World in the ruins
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Notepad
Tiny notepad, so sad and blue
Tiny notepad, it's time I had you
On the bed, my pen is in
On the edge, my pen is skin
I've almost filled
Almost spilled
Enough ink, I think
to impregnate the page with glaze
Ray of sun
Son of Ra
Ran off soon
Noose ran of
Rain off sod
God coughs
So sayeth these words and he knew TRUTH is in the putting
the idea to page. Osiris to papyrus. Set to drum set. Anubis to groove. His needle to groove. Thought to ACTION.
The barrel of a loaded gun only saves one: Word (left)
Peace: Can't cease if we are anthrophiles
Files Edit Views of
New Documents of
Consciousness of conscience that wish to see it all
OMNISCIENT: LIKE a fly on the wall
Like this, or comment "Psych skills uncommon"
Face facts five of five tend to trend to ten true things that tell two rules
Book 1: Old 2: New
Treat others the way you'd treat you
Carpal, carpal, metacarpal. Why drive outside the carpool lane if it all ends here. It's not about the heart but the vein you take there.
<3
Tiny notepad, it's time I had you
On the bed, my pen is in
On the edge, my pen is skin
I've almost filled
Almost spilled
Enough ink, I think
to impregnate the page with glaze
Ray of sun
Son of Ra
Ran off soon
Noose ran of
Rain off sod
God coughs
So sayeth these words and he knew TRUTH is in the putting
the idea to page. Osiris to papyrus. Set to drum set. Anubis to groove. His needle to groove. Thought to ACTION.
The barrel of a loaded gun only saves one: Word (left)
Peace: Can't cease if we are anthrophiles
Files Edit Views of
New Documents of
Consciousness of conscience that wish to see it all
OMNISCIENT: LIKE a fly on the wall
Like this, or comment "Psych skills uncommon"
Face facts five of five tend to trend to ten true things that tell two rules
Book 1: Old 2: New
Treat others the way you'd treat you
Carpal, carpal, metacarpal. Why drive outside the carpool lane if it all ends here. It's not about the heart but the vein you take there.
<3
Monday, April 25, 2011
Disappointment (A Tribute to Kilgore Trout)
I've been appointed to write the great American novel:Disappointment
Am I right that it has ceased to be novel?
Anointed to pen the story of the anti-hero
A tale pointed against dear ol' hope
Intent to kick out the chair before untying the rope
The main character is such
A brainy error-driven klutz
Who, for all his prophecy and prose
Will never see his progeny exposed
To the masses and fact is
He lies it like this
His passion to describe
Why it is why it is...
Why he can write of beauty
Why he can do so with duty divine
Why these seems so close
not to him but for the most part, humanity
So as not to appeal to his own vanity
He does an uncanny job to keep his child to himself
Swaddling on the shelf a tattered notebook
Full of what matters and what he hopes look like truth
He pulls Saturn to Earth and back to say sooth he has lacked
He's a happy man in solitary confinement
Like his pages, locked in a prison of refinement
In time it shall not be such and written works of sage
will be forced outside his clutch and transmission left, in tatters
A shadow of the innocence that matters.
Black petals rose over time to hit the gas
Compelled by the feeling of going nowhere fast
Consequently, he will gently push upon himself
to remove his mentally conceived child from the shelf
Not too ready, but he'd like someone to understand
To have something to hold onto besides the pen in hand
One thing to hold onto might be his muse
There's ever so small a spark between them
But it's never lit the fuse
Until he hit the gas and set it loose
With a flash
Torridly they tore orally through all his walls
Not sordidly, but orderly with an awl
Since his conception's inception, he's not felt much at all
but this so nascent and so real
When it comes to this perfection, his participation is surreal
For real, his an intimation of a projection, hums it then
She too unguarded and true
Whatever 'twas she'd do
they'd do it like artist
with the wisdom of Athena
and the fury of Ares
Intently she kissed him
And so purely ensnared these disciples of Eros
Rare these moments that the heart is where the poem is.
His writing took a new character
Characterized by a smile
The size of 3 mile island
and just as radiant
Covering the gradients
one radian around
Circumscribed all of pi from God
in chalkdust on the ground
They wed and led a felicitous life
Perfect husband, perfect wife
L o v e ever waxing
L i f e never taxing
Lasts one very extraordinary
long interminable fathomless eon
Rather it continues without end in sight
Still it sits on the Occidental
but the differential lies on the clock
At least a moment away
the peace that love meant happiness would stay
In many moons
They met their doom at the same time
Simultaneously, simulacrum of harmony of rhyme
In memoriam, Cupid weeping and leaking saline.
The disappointment, you ask?
(No matter the gravity of task
In labours of love
Games rules don't bend)
Answer: That every story has to end
Am I right that it has ceased to be novel?
Anointed to pen the story of the anti-hero
A tale pointed against dear ol' hope
Intent to kick out the chair before untying the rope
The main character is such
A brainy error-driven klutz
Who, for all his prophecy and prose
Will never see his progeny exposed
To the masses and fact is
He lies it like this
His passion to describe
Why it is why it is...
Why he can write of beauty
Why he can do so with duty divine
Why these seems so close
not to him but for the most part, humanity
So as not to appeal to his own vanity
He does an uncanny job to keep his child to himself
Swaddling on the shelf a tattered notebook
Full of what matters and what he hopes look like truth
He pulls Saturn to Earth and back to say sooth he has lacked
He's a happy man in solitary confinement
Like his pages, locked in a prison of refinement
In time it shall not be such and written works of sage
will be forced outside his clutch and transmission left, in tatters
A shadow of the innocence that matters.
Black petals rose over time to hit the gas
Compelled by the feeling of going nowhere fast
Consequently, he will gently push upon himself
to remove his mentally conceived child from the shelf
Not too ready, but he'd like someone to understand
To have something to hold onto besides the pen in hand
One thing to hold onto might be his muse
There's ever so small a spark between them
But it's never lit the fuse
Until he hit the gas and set it loose
With a flash
Torridly they tore orally through all his walls
Not sordidly, but orderly with an awl
Since his conception's inception, he's not felt much at all
but this so nascent and so real
When it comes to this perfection, his participation is surreal
For real, his an intimation of a projection, hums it then
She too unguarded and true
Whatever 'twas she'd do
they'd do it like artist
with the wisdom of Athena
and the fury of Ares
Intently she kissed him
And so purely ensnared these disciples of Eros
Rare these moments that the heart is where the poem is.
His writing took a new character
Characterized by a smile
The size of 3 mile island
and just as radiant
Covering the gradients
one radian around
Circumscribed all of pi from God
in chalkdust on the ground
They wed and led a felicitous life
Perfect husband, perfect wife
L o v e ever waxing
L i f e never taxing
Lasts one very extraordinary
long interminable fathomless eon
Rather it continues without end in sight
Still it sits on the Occidental
but the differential lies on the clock
At least a moment away
the peace that love meant happiness would stay
In many moons
They met their doom at the same time
Simultaneously, simulacrum of harmony of rhyme
In memoriam, Cupid weeping and leaking saline.
The disappointment, you ask?
(No matter the gravity of task
In labours of love
Games rules don't bend)
Answer: That every story has to end
Juxtapose
Juxtaposed
Your re-pose
Otiose
Clothes, just close
Doors of those
I've not opened, rose
Pedals fro and
to,
not, as in you
Or as cut through
But toward
versus foreword
not chapter 1
a second
Dairy association
with limited claims
to primacy
My milk lame
Country fare
Is the tab
to tare the scale
into balance
and propose
to juxtapose
your repose
with your re-pose.
Your re-pose
Otiose
Clothes, just close
Doors of those
I've not opened, rose
Pedals fro and
to,
not, as in you
Or as cut through
But toward
versus foreword
not chapter 1
a second
Dairy association
with limited claims
to primacy
My milk lame
Country fare
Is the tab
to tare the scale
into balance
and propose
to juxtapose
your repose
with your re-pose.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
420
420
A day for twenty meditation
A day for twenty exhalations
A day fir twenty lost expectations to be met
If only for twenty seconds after expectorations
For twenty expect oration's word like sun to set
A day for twenty sets of dreams
To fly for twenty set aside things
That for twenty years
I never thought plausible
For twenty friends
420 sends
For twenty bends
In odd and ends
420 even
For twenty seasons
Fed 420 demons of doubt
Convinced them of leaving
For twenty reasons, within and without
For twenty rhymes
420 dimes
The answer to the universes birth
For 42 and
420 minds about the Earth
Spit for twenty lines in a verse
And the time starts to burst
Clocks, 4:20 chimes
“So long and thanks for twenty mimes, or fish”
Do you wish for twenty more?
Too bad it’s 4:21 and you’ve missed all fun in store.
A day for twenty meditation
A day for twenty exhalations
A day fir twenty lost expectations to be met
If only for twenty seconds after expectorations
For twenty expect oration's word like sun to set
A day for twenty sets of dreams
To fly for twenty set aside things
That for twenty years
I never thought plausible
For twenty friends
420 sends
For twenty bends
In odd and ends
420 even
For twenty seasons
Fed 420 demons of doubt
Convinced them of leaving
For twenty reasons, within and without
For twenty rhymes
420 dimes
The answer to the universes birth
For 42 and
420 minds about the Earth
Spit for twenty lines in a verse
And the time starts to burst
Clocks, 4:20 chimes
“So long and thanks for twenty mimes, or fish”
Do you wish for twenty more?
Too bad it’s 4:21 and you’ve missed all fun in store.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Dialogue with a Deity
What?
Is the point
The joint
Between effort and purpose
Money and the purchase
The penny of thought
Threading it all together
Whether heading
to forever
Or treading
to never
To happily ever after
or the hereafter?
Why?
Am I here
After several failed flights
On pale moonlit nights
I'm no more salient a sight
Than the sparrows in clouds
that shroud the harrowed, disallowed
from the proud
This allowed the crowd to shout aloud
Hypothesize why they've been ostracized
Why?
Why fly with eyes wide
Pie in the skies
When those up high
Can't empathize
You just fly above the rivers of tears I cry
An expropriate like industrialized labor
I labor with longing in my eyes
I can't belabor these years I've sighed
For the years you implied you'd arrive
When?
Will this coil untie
then and only then
Can I be at rest
Effaced from the temptress' tempest
You create a your behest
Ne'er caressed
By your hand
Nor pressed to your breast
Lest I make you ignore the rest
Of your groveling masses
But time passes different
This inference I made as a mortal
Difference being,
We're different beings
And being coy is so easy
At least when immortal
Who?
Are you, I mortal
You of infinite nature
To you, I am, an infant enraged or
dismayed at his misplaced ball
or that he chose to obey gravity,
not standing tall
A game you always play
Though I've never won,
I'll roll the dice on paradise
I'll always roll a one
Paralyze to play the role of one
One who can't devise a device
To entice the One
Who are you to say it's done
When it's not yet begun
Where? Have prophets ordained
You'll fall from the main?
The rain in Spain
I maintain that it falls mostly on the lame
When brain storm showers rain of acid
Flowers sprout only to die again
on your plane of existence
Pistons cause you to cross reality
to crash in the fallacy
that somehow your individuality
is more than mallady
of inequality afforded you
By an elevated salary of adoration
What?
What's the scenario
You get to carry over
A million hearts in one hand
All I get is the buried hope
that I might know life is in your command
I say no to your monument's remands
Pedestal and on you wait
These soul in your magnifying glass reticle
bent to live regrettable
pining, whining, forgettable lives
All in awe of you
Is the point
The joint
Between effort and purpose
Money and the purchase
The penny of thought
Threading it all together
Whether heading
to forever
Or treading
to never
To happily ever after
or the hereafter?
Why?
Am I here
After several failed flights
On pale moonlit nights
I'm no more salient a sight
Than the sparrows in clouds
that shroud the harrowed, disallowed
from the proud
This allowed the crowd to shout aloud
Hypothesize why they've been ostracized
Why?
Why fly with eyes wide
Pie in the skies
When those up high
Can't empathize
You just fly above the rivers of tears I cry
An expropriate like industrialized labor
I labor with longing in my eyes
I can't belabor these years I've sighed
For the years you implied you'd arrive
When?
Will this coil untie
then and only then
Can I be at rest
Effaced from the temptress' tempest
You create a your behest
Ne'er caressed
By your hand
Nor pressed to your breast
Lest I make you ignore the rest
Of your groveling masses
But time passes different
This inference I made as a mortal
Difference being,
We're different beings
And being coy is so easy
At least when immortal
Who?
Are you, I mortal
You of infinite nature
To you, I am, an infant enraged or
dismayed at his misplaced ball
or that he chose to obey gravity,
not standing tall
A game you always play
Though I've never won,
I'll roll the dice on paradise
I'll always roll a one
Paralyze to play the role of one
One who can't devise a device
To entice the One
Who are you to say it's done
When it's not yet begun
Where? Have prophets ordained
You'll fall from the main?
The rain in Spain
I maintain that it falls mostly on the lame
When brain storm showers rain of acid
Flowers sprout only to die again
on your plane of existence
Pistons cause you to cross reality
to crash in the fallacy
that somehow your individuality
is more than mallady
of inequality afforded you
By an elevated salary of adoration
What?
What's the scenario
You get to carry over
A million hearts in one hand
All I get is the buried hope
that I might know life is in your command
I say no to your monument's remands
Pedestal and on you wait
These soul in your magnifying glass reticle
bent to live regrettable
pining, whining, forgettable lives
All in awe of you
Futility
As the name might apply, this is a rather pointless attempt at writing and is quite forced
Pushing my futility
From trough to crest
Not seeing inutility
As it falls like all the rest
Regardless of ability
Fate has I, like you, oppressed
Fettered
Flustered
Fed up
Under yokes of unusual umbrage carrying
Carousel of circumstance known
Knifelike killing cut by cut
Boulder by boulder
O'er my shoulder
Watchful eyes cast
Discerning fate
O'erturning
With persistence unnverving
Never ending
Nor up for debate
On the horizon
Working toward...
An end I can't make
Molehills to mountain caps
Order ordains
Rocky rapacious relapse
Threads tie it all together
After all
Lunacy lets one think to tatter the tethers
Pushing my futility
From trough to crest
Not seeing inutility
As it falls like all the rest
Regardless of ability
Fate has I, like you, oppressed
Fettered
Flustered
Fed up
Under yokes of unusual umbrage carrying
Carousel of circumstance known
Knifelike killing cut by cut
Boulder by boulder
O'er my shoulder
Watchful eyes cast
Discerning fate
O'erturning
With persistence unnverving
Never ending
Nor up for debate
On the horizon
Working toward...
An end I can't make
Molehills to mountain caps
Order ordains
Rocky rapacious relapse
Threads tie it all together
After all
Lunacy lets one think to tatter the tethers
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