+50 Wordcrafting

+50 Wordcrafting

 

Cellar door barrel roll,

turncoat tornado as a commercial utensil,

flip flop, watch the death toll,

rise and fall, winter and the spring

into summer somersaults and soaring

cut from kites to counts and other nobles

resist the king, kill the king,

conquer the world and reign,

of terror, wicked witch of the West,

flotation device deploy,

die desperate, desolate, de-evolve

exponentially rises, flying fires,

but gimme that old time religion,

tie a human message to the leg of a metal pigeon,

sputnik, take off through space, whereas we arrive

in another time and place, in perfectly tip-top shape,

we spin off into a cloud of lethargic good intentions and

suffer serious casualties and retreat, defeat,

never, hold the line, boys, rally around the flag

skip to the mother at the funeral, watch her soul sag

tick tock, feel the earth roll,

end over end through the void,

denounce the evils of Hogwarts

School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

take off on a magical motorcycle, hit warp five,

flourish your way to Neptune and halfway back,

find an ice dragon that breathes black holes

and flee, I will follow thee,

into the darkest reaches of space,

first contact, dead space, no contact

so sign that contract and make something of your life before its nothing.

We want your soul, and we can pay better

than humility, where is the innate good in humanity?

And I’ll show you a good God, damn,

you’re quite the modest mouse, sir,

defend the blue, white and redwall abbey

no traffic through here, so run that red light,

drive when you’re high and take flight,

weave a tapestry of blur in between eighteen wheelers

and glide right on downtown, get wasted,

smoke some dro with that hobo you found

welcome to Asheville, 828, we’re pretty straight folks,

half of us at least, anyways, we got drum circles every week,

fuck biltmore and that social “elite,”

get the hell out of Enka, this is our lake.

Sing song, watch em the play ping pong of warring nations,

we must unite the nations, flotation devices failed again,

it must be the quantum generator, engage the hyperdrive,

drop the soldiers there, we strive to provide

for our overlords, we fight the hordes,

summon the Count of Hammer Hill,

hope he rips out your throat for a quick kill,

and cower, cowardly commandants are nothing against me

but that’s but a Fable 2, fuck the parables,

this is the real world, that was the old world,

what if I took back a wormhole and found the Lord

smoking marijuana and writing high his holy Word?

Love me or hate me, feel free to underestimate me,

once upon a time, I said “Oh Lord, I only want one thing from thee;

make my enemies ridiculous, and that wish he granted me,

so listen to this flow from me and try, try with all your mind to free

yourself and carpe diem, if you have any friends, pass my Word and free ‘em.

Frozen flotillas rain on the world and ignite a supernova heat field

of religious fervor, the world falls into an endless cycle of bad habits,

watch a perverse and utterly rabid beast revealed,

but perhaps that is nature, and only the weak should recoil,

from the beast slouching ever towards Bethlehem

but I guess that’s the million dollar dead end

where exactly did morality begin,

in the delivery room or the Word of God?

Well that question is surely odd,

yeah I read Leviathan, I am after all,

a Machiavellian prince, name drop only a small

selection of Wikipedia information, and I’ll ask if you read it,

and you’ll trip trying to dodge the question,

don’t question me, I question everything,

yeah sure, we’ll call it a fling,

but we both know we only want one thing,

well I want the world, what now?

I would gladly take it, but no how

no way to succeed, technology foils me,

antithesis and an antagonist against me.

Fuck Oedipus, it’s not fate for me, I’m free.

Wil can fly through his name,

just call him Danger, power is his game

he’ll make his fortune and find fame,

but me first, hahaha, no way I’ll give in, my way is the high way,

and your way is no way, course this is all in play, we’re the Wang and any way

in which we partake is the Way, dark Taoists and perspectivist

so many -isms and so little prison space

sometimes even I think we’re in the disinformation age,

since even before I came of age, I didn’t want to live as a slave for a wage

you can’t stop me, even if, well, you couldn’t ever see in

my mind’s eye wherein the majestic mental projection of Eden

grows dim and I brace for impact, prepare an empire to strike back,

as I search for the words I lack to convey they way your defense will

fall once our strike force strikes the source,

the year 3030, at least the ancient past was pretty,

time travel and live ever and forever happily,

but perfect is no human way to be, for whence from does art come to be

but through the tragic and the epic, forfeit to this lyrical fit

of frustration, got lost on his way to serve his nation,

the story of man and rifle, the sounds of war stifled,

official government business, don’t trifle

in matters that don’t concern you, well this concerns me, fuck you

all I want is the truth, all we want to do is sue,

slave-morality, the strong are slaves to morality,

but there’s no breaking free from your history,

there is no second Troy for mice and men

so we lie on the beach and wait for the end.

 

To Live and Die in Dixie

To Live and Die in Dixie

 

I wish I was in Dixie,

but words don’t roll like the Appalachians.

Soft hills surround serene valleys,

but the forest is old and teems with memory.

The trees sway with wisdom to the music on the wind,

while trails wind around, down and up again, through, and all over.

 

Appalachia is a land where crickets provide the lullaby,

a land where Fall surpasses even Summer in beauty,

and a land where, from the peaks, the mountains seem to float on,

forever, across the land and beyond the horizon.

I may not live and die in Dixie,

but that’s where my heart takes its stand.

Requiem for a Dream

Requiem for a Dream

 

The gray sinks deeper into the city, heavy and lethargic,

we walk down these mean streets and laugh,

for there is nothing left to fear;

we have seen it all.

 

The gray sinks deeper into my soul, heavy and depressing,

I walk down these cold streets and wait,

for there is nothing for me here,

I have seen it all.

Pirates of the Carolinas

Pirates of the Carolinas

 

Four Wangers, one Way,

our way, we’re the way,

our way is the high way,

and we’ll get high along the way,

and driving high is the best way,

especially on the highway

as we cruise on the free way,

get out of our way,

cause where there’s a Wil,

there’s a Wang and we’re the Way.

 

We’re a better team than America, y’all

United we stand, and divided we still won’t fall.

 

Drink up, me hearties yo ho’s and my homies,

let’s go, let’s set the flow to dead slow, now shift up

ludicrous speed, throw up

let’s go to plaid, that’s what she said,

that’s bad, I know, but we gonna put on a show

for the city, high to low, fast and slow,

throttle back and smoke if you got em,

cause then I gotta bring me that horizon

and find that fucking pot of gold,

it’s at the end of the rainbow, I’m always told,

but if rainbows are an illusion

what does that say about the gold?

 

Fuck it, I’ll turn and chase the dollar, and hey

America says it’s a better standard anyway.

Who knows? But I bet all those Senators snorted too much blow.

But I digress, back to the blackboard,

where the chalk sounds like fingernails to me, I’m bored

what next, not even sex

is enough to save the ship, SOS, by the way vista is a shitty OS,

Pulling a Weezy is pretty easy,

and even if I can’t quite get the flow,

I think I at least got the point to go.

 

Savvy?

No Homo

No Homo

 

Aren’t we the same, am I American?

cue the F-22 fly-by, stand-by, for the guitar and try

to catch my flow on your strings, but they can’t, I just grew wings,

they hit the sky like ink to the pad, but sometimes even I think I’m bad,

but I guess, motherfucker, I’m ill, for real, when I get, I got it, and I jot it,

down, openoffice is my anti-drug, since marijuana isn’t a drug,

It’s not the same, I am not a thug,

well, fuck that, I’m pro, I know,

I gotta go everywhere I want, fuck it, I wanna flaunt,

my schwag and my swagga from here to Niagra

falls, up to stars and the iron curtain is down.

Key the nukes for launch, red dawn lit by a bloodred Sun,

no use grabbin that gun, maybe we’ll just have to use swords,

I wanna be the best in the world, no contestment.

Here’s what I’m getting at;

It’s a progression, like the current session

with my flow, but I don’t really know anything at all, except

I have seen no truth, no God, that I now accept,

maybe there’s something, maybe,

but that would mean we don’t know what it means to be,

I’m me, I’m me, I’m me?

so many me’s in so many universes parallel,

I guess this is how Spartacus felt as his army before him held

to their honor, none of that now, To nothing will I ever bow,

for in a world without anything,

I am everything.

 

But what about human rights? Fuck humans, all we do is fight.

Where is the good, and where in the world?

Now I see what drove Carmen Sandiago to run.

And, uh oh, where’s Waldo, I guess he’s gone, there’s the gun.

I guess he saw life was nothing, but shouldn’t it stand for something?

What is it that keeps the world on turning?

If good isn’t real, why don’t I practice what I preach and act thus?

Everyone doubts, I doubt my doubts, what now?

I walk the line, act like its fine, but its not, and I’m not,

fine, not at all, my fault, I falter and stumble,

trail off in class and mumble, that this isn’t the answer I came for,

what came before the big bang? A big whimper or something simpler?

Should I run, maybe even some guns you say that’s dumb, but that’s baseless

open your eyes and you’ll get a facelift;

If there’s no good and bad, why be good when you can be bad?

here’s the new golden rule; do unto others as they will do unto you.

So go crazy on those niggas, I don’t give a motherfuck,

go into your house and shoot your grandmother up.

But even when I’ve given all my goodness up

 

from my childhood I cannot break free,

so I sing in my chains to the sea.

Disney’s Fairy Tail

Disney’s Fairy Tail

 

*music*

 

Listen, listen, listen, listen

to the beat-

one and two and three and

(arcanite reaper) goooo-;

like the board game,

I place the stones to make my name

surrounded the other color and won,

I fell once upon a time upon,

smack dab on that upturned iron-

hot shrapnel burns and you flail throughout

welcome to the jungle, you’re no longer in cub scouts,

you say you had your doubts,

but that didn’t change your vote

feels like I already sailed on this boat,

hmm that’s weird, I guess, history just repeats itself, yet

if we learned already, what have we learned here?

frankly, my dear, we just don’t give a damn.

Is that immoral? Not if you’re amoral,

don’t talk like that to me, princess, it’s not my fault, see

the world won’t admit subjectivity, not postmodern bullshit,

That’s like a-quit-even-’fore-you-hit-it-

once up on the bunker one of those times,

uhhh wait I’m criss-crossing my lines,

I think its in the water, take this medicine no longer,

drug addict nation, keep em below the line

If they had a cure, I wager they’d find

a way to maximize profit margins,

not like they can make em, banks follow in the cave-in,

domino effect, corporate beggars beg on the streets of DC,

where the country sits with no legs, drilling deeper a hole with no money

and no drill, cause we can’t afford it, but I guess we blew it all, fuck,

seems like, again, I’ve walked this road before,

but maybe I don’t really want to know anymore.

But really, sweetie, let’s talk amorally; people die everyday,

do I say it too casually? casualties, collateral, you think too laterally,

a social construct, deconstructed I had to fall to see it all, I’m learned;

but this is what I base my ideas on,

Everything is subjective, says my reason,

but good is more than that,” says my heart.

My heart stops,- restarts.

 

Well, good; what is it? I almost believe, but something halts it.

Murder, murder, read all about it, front page headlines-

funny how we draw battle lines

at barely 5 minutes to midnight.

But why should we fight it,

when no answer is the only answer that fits

all models and all colors, religions and their followers,

perspectivism, moral nihilism, only sith deal in absolutism,

the only one of which is relativism, and maybe nihlism, too, I guess,

but remember; I’m not postmodernist, I’m just trying to find way in life, it’s

a very rough road, but it sometimes breeds progression

okay, maybe that’s a bad reference,

I ramble on and I’m Rambo, roll it off the tongue and flow, I write this so I can know

what it means to be.

Maybe I could even live ever after happily-

The truth could set us free.

 

*music*

Wang Club

Wang Club

 

Welcome to Wang Club this ain’t no city,

laddy, this the country but welcome to um

our little fight club- we runnin’, like this is our job

you z-snap like savvy

We should slaughter these sales like sleeper cells,

in every major city, key the cute kitty

eyes, real shifty eyes,

perhaps, mayhaps,

is Pandas Wang building an army?

We swagga real fly; real smarmy.

Best protect ya neck,

cause our cousin got our’s, and yet

you ain’t got protection, from projections originatin’

in our quadrant, some bewilderin’ terms and a few sectors over,

we back on tha cover, fightin wit each other,

but thats how we do, leave you lying where you’ll rue

the day you chose, swimmin’ in ho’s, to fight the Baron, and so

now you’re swearin, and so, I dodge, duck, dip, dive, and

Dodge, my way past, every logical fallacy, at last,

I weave in and out a portait, of you, but even as I wove, I warped it,

it grew, into something morbid, grotesque, ick and label it a kubrick

esque-potrayal of your angel-face, as I allude to nihilistic fuel,

as you catch your breath in spews.

Inhale before the fight, focus my Qi, Inhale for a minute long and act quickly

for it is as He has said to me, nothing in the world is free,

for races surely go to the quick, and the fights go to the strong.

Strawberry Yields

Strawberry Yields

 

Strawberry fields and marijuana yields,

flattened peels, wagon wheels,

and fly! Eat resistance, resist, noah23 that shit,

fly to the wings, drop dem things,

we fight, backs against the current, download it, with all those torrents,

does the information age inform, or is it just the perfect storm?

Species-wide immunity; recession, the succession of events,

post-seccession supporter vents, kill the president-

more well known than I’ll ever-

be, John Wilkes Booth,

National Treasure, to boot, lord of war, head to foot,

played by nicholas cage, too quiet for all that rage.

I’m center on the stage, one of four kings,

soaring like we got wings-

who knows; maybe we do, but that begs the question;

who are you?

Resistance is fu-

-tile, the fat lady

assimilates you, wake up in Hades-

and think: what? I’m so baked,

man, we gotta make it, fall through and shake it,

wake, wake and bake it, oh, I already said that,

so sit yo ass up and hit dat, shit, and get yo ass dressed,

we gotta go, we got moves to make, and moves to make

and miles to go before we sleep, and piles to go before we sweet,

and guile to get us to easy street,

nary a road we ain’t taken, but for all the sense I’m makin’,

don’t they say, you best be prayin’ try to keep the horse from neighin’

and steel before the onslaught, give it all you got,

this is the way the world ends, this is the way your world ends,

this is the new world, welcome, word.

Race to Fame

Race to Fame

Or a Stream of tangential Reflection of a text-conversation with

 

 

Wil, Wu-Tang Man-ual and text-based procrastination,

Machiavellian infiltration, multi-media nation and

hustle art, hustle hard, fuck the ladder,

we’ll fly onwards to the top. We’ll spin ‘em on their top,

and we’ll learn it like a crop and slip out past the cop, and

hit the jackpot and float on to the top,

minds in the same lot, and jack-to-the-pot-and

so we climbed the ladder that was fo’evea

but that is so over, Weezy; fall. Wang; rise-

look for the sunrise

and don’t be surprised when we flash in your eyes

-and ears, audio surf, snatching up as much turf

as much, as much, as such rockets us towards

our dreams and so forward and so forth-

work on, looking north,

well actually south (rise again!)

God save the South though I think we’ll be enough.

That’s enough, too fun,

I don’t care what I lose,

I just thank God-well,

you know;

I’m alive

 

(when I write)

 

I’ll race you to fame. Haha – but for real?

well, well, well, willy robb,

like achilles, should be a tough job,

but not for-

Beezy is far too easy, so how ’bout Baron?

 

sk-sk-skip-

I’ll strip off what ya wearin’ leave yah farin’

oh, seems not so well, so perhaps you should listen while I tell

the world to carry this rap like a cross, where only we need ever be; our own boss-

lay down another line, make you look at your feet; think; well,

perhaps you should concede defeat.

 

 

So, en guarde, Sir Willy Robinson; you’re on,

and I’ll be robbin ya, son. I’ll race ya to page number one.

Upon Reflecting on a Conversation with Justin

What if, once upon a time,

you came across a lamp

and, et cetera, et cetera

you are given one wish.

 

“I want to be independent of time.”

 

And then I died.

Why am I a poet?

(a) philosophy can be captured

in

just

one

word.

 

Tickle the tone,

with allusion while

abrasive alliteration, asserted

rings hollow

 

so I write on,

pushing the boundaries

of language.

 

 

Not free verse, but rhyme,

you spit beats in a mic,

I pen a line at the same time.

 

Maybe I can’t freestyle like the Carter,

and can’t quite keep the time,

so I push myself even harder

just tryin’ to make a hustle outta rhyme.

 

Trite, maybe, genius?

Sometimes.

 

But knick-knack

paddywhack

-onomatopoeia-

just doesn’t have the same

umph

when dumb.

 

And lyrics feel so alone without a melody.

And lyrics feel so alone without a melody.

 

So I write on, fingers to the keys,

trying to catch the tone

of life

within without.

Turn on Nirvana

I’ve only seen life from one end,

never in hindsight,

I doggedly pursue anything-

and everything.

 

My visions of the future…

well, imagine a scatter plot;

I have no idea.

 

And so I sit here, privileged,

decades of sacrifice

that only yielded

me.

 

Was I worth it?

 

Give everything up

on the faith of ruddy sons –

Is it better to burn out or fade away?

Funny You Should Say That

I am undefinable,

because life defines me,

with all the uncertainty

in the world.

 

Doubt

as I falter

on the road not taken;

 

Ambiguity, robed in gray,

veils the path before me,

and the horizon beyond.

 

The mist grows so heavy,

it robs me of all visibility.

 

I wish

I could show life the meaning of irony.

Error Theory

In an endless search;

dissatisfaction assaults the nation

-and the mind.

Walk the line

and dance around the edges of disaster;

find it to be nothing

and break away.

 

And what is a nation,

but the sum of all minds?

So come with me,

from the grime and the bile,

Rise, rise against!

Squint, but not too long-

for here there is light.

 

The Great Conversation;

Pass justice around the circle, but

-don’t hold it for too long!

 

Of technicalities, grow weary-

embrace the Kingdom

Your life is a canvas, still,

but gray.