Hail Mary

Yeah, you’re pretty cute, but damn, do you talk too much.

You’ve got to spend some time, love; inhale, exhale, listen to the world, and such,

I think you’ll find you can be so much more;

well, actually, it turns out I’m not all that sure.

but there is no time like the present to regain lost footing

and at least we live in a beautiful world

now and at the hour of our death.

Visions for the Communiity

The stars bleed out, having tried their best to woo us with the passion of the Cosmos,

but now a ringed nebula crowns and lays to rest what the mind of Man calls Logos.

Ice cold debris tumble-weeds, lifeless, through the heart of darkness,

the minutes became seconds and too soon it was midnight,

And when time ceased to tick and tock,

and upon us, Death came to knock.

The truth was, we lost our minds to faith false and immaterial.

 

But the present question is, is it then our fate to simply start and end with the corporeal?

But even tyrants would surely screw to save their own race…

so how about we just reallocate the funds for this year’s nuclear arms race?

And together we could reach, reach and become so much more!

So let’s rage, rage against the dying of the light before-

The quiet American with the radioactive rifle crouches,

                and with a single shot, kills the beast where it so casually slouches.

The Seed 1.4

 

Let’s kickstart the apocalypse and sky rocket the death toll

lock yourself in a mis-named vault and name your children Rock and Roll,

I guess we really had to fall to lose it all, that’s all she wrote,

don’t, no don’t sink the boat, too late, she sank,

clubbed to death by the ice cold truth, though sometimes I see Death’s robe as more chartruse

perhaps its just a ruse and God is a prankster,

though I admit the weed just keeps getting danker,

I smoke too much, but I’m used to vacations

from my previously constant sobriety, go to a place where I can forget the ills of society,

it’s almost a better perception of reality, I wonder if one day we’ll get high in a virtual reality,

unless this is the Matrix, in which case I’m Neo, no wait,

I’ll fight Neo, he’s not the One, nothing is reduced to fate,

we all have hands in his together, but there can be only some,

so in this analogy, wars are fought with a thumb, and in this war, you might as well be dumb,

since you negiotiate with your army-I mean, thumb, shit that was dumb, moving on,

hopefully the other player doesn’t get carried away, and proliferate those handy nukes over your way,

forget diplomacy now, past is the time for parlée, it’s high time we who would be pirates had our day

and we won’t compromise for anyone, so let lay Henry Clay,

if war is coming, this prince would see it done now rather than later,

so be careful when you misuse and mis-accuse of misogyny, woman; I don’t hate her,

Back off, relax, and take a second look, pull your ass out of the book,

it can’t help you here, reason this one out, might take a couple routes

through your mind until you can free your mind,

There is no way to be free if you adhere first and foremost to hypocrisy,

it’s kind of a pet peeve for me, and yes, I’m well aware of the irony.

We may all be hypocritical to some extent, but at least I’m honest,

So now that’d I’ve uncovered the process to put you on the way to being whole,

lock yourself in your mis-named cell and listen to some rock and roll.

Watch the Chicago snow whirlwind and swirl round and round

spiraling chaotically as they near the ground,

they mirror your flawed ideology, as from the above you can clearly see,

so bite the irony that grips your tongue and listen to me, listen to me.

And kindly don’t self righteously spew anger towards me,

don’t hate the player, hate the game, there’s no shame

in defeat, I’m just a messenger, and here’s your subpoena.

You can forgive, but I can never forget, and revenge and regret weigh heavily on your soul

so you lock yourself in a mis-named tomb and die to a track of lively rock and roll.

My Elastic (Mind’s) Eye and Rubber Soul?

I don’t think I ever seen so many headlights,

they claim to light my way, but something’s not right,

nowhere to run, so I guess that counts out flight,

ah well, I could handle a fight, but what will I think in hindsight?

I can’t decide whether to join them or fight them.

Maybe the best way to destroy something is from within,

like the soul, elastic, it’s funny how much we relate to plastic,

although we use it every day.

 

My eyes are elastic and my soul is made of rubber.

Early on One Frosty Mourning

4:20 came and went, leaves me to think of all this time spent

drink steak, eat wine, wait, there that’s not how it went,

and what exactly did we decide justice meant?

I can’t even remember, damn it, what’s that mean for me?

And what exactly does it mean to act professionally,

all the professionals die anyway, just like you and me,

so maybe we should forgo the standard of success,

and compose our own, cause before long we too will be laid to rest,

and if glory brings immortality, then Lil Wayne is a god to be,

and sometimes that’s all I want to be, but at the same time, I think; that’s not me.

But what-and who- really is me? That’s easy, I’m me.

Or is it? Maybe it’d be more productive to live a little bit

before I decide what lies ahead, since doing wrong is something I so much dread.

But just cause the government says it’s bad doesn’t make it so,

I hate to keep repeating myself like “so,”

but I swear it’s only cause I have no idea where on Earth to go,

or what in the world to do, so here; I’m asking you.

A Roundhouse Kick to the Vocal Chords

This isn’t a Fight Night, but here’s round 3,

So gimme the limelight, I’m giving away this rhyme for free,

yeah that means no fee, totally, I swear it, come on, it’s me,

snap back like the quarterback, dude, that’s a nickel, reach the endzone and take a knee,

I mean I don’t wanna be all fickle, but I’m trying to lengthen the distance between me

and the guy back there in the hood with the sickle.

Something oddly comforting, I hate conforming,

but this is so confortable, no wonder its so available, but what is lying underneath the table?

I rise out of ashes like I’m a Hero, write me into a Fable, hold on,

let’s get back to square zero, there isn’t anything to fear

but what about fear itself? But that’s neither there nor here.

I wove and still weave, flurry of hits hit like volleys of spears,

I’m like the Zulu, and I’ll straight up kill you.

Squint, duck, sidestep a blow and, hey, here’s your maker, your

face ripples just like the surface of the Dead Sea

-though that’s something I may not ever see-

that’s what happens when you stand up against me.

Sorry, that rhyme was just too easy, I’m emulating Weezy

too much, I know, but its such a damn good flow,

that I can’t stop it, all I can do is start back,

try again, find my voice, and sing, I want different forms of bling,

I want to flaunt my philosophy, so I write lines about everything and/or nothing.

Lets try nothing, I’m just gonna freestyle something;

 

Dance on the asteroid belt, duck low

wobble to and fro, hold on or off you’ll go,

fight an alien across the universe, and its time to travel the multiverses,

not of the Bible, that’s purely academic, and just it makes me sick,

nowhere in the world is there more common ground under hypocrits,

so kick off from the Bible Belt, go and find yourself,

if we are God’s undwanted children, so be it, Tyler,

I think it’s Jack’s mind that makes him such a good liar.

Fight Club taught me independence and the emasculation of man, I’m searching for the Fountain, waste my youth as I sift through the mountain of junk, it isn’t here, who woulda thunk? No matter,

I remember the movie better than my own grandma; so I quote; death is the road to awe,

it keeps me afloat. Gotta face your fears, shed the tears, and master them,

float on, the world’s at large, so skip school and marvel from root to limb,

space reminds me of elementary school, is that a nucleus or a star?

What does it matter, can’t even go to a bar without a plastic card.

 

Too formal, I want a stream of consciousness, I’ve been playing the Bard

all right, let’s give it a go, but sober, it’ll be kind hard:

 

discombulated, deflated, and elated,

stand naked in the rain, smited and smitten,

don’t let them know you faked it, you made it,

here, here, my dear, I’m here, no fear.

Shush! And the sound of silence,

at least there’s no end to tyrants,

erupting Yellowstone,

down that wine and weed like J-Stone.

Can’t sleep, stopped by a bone,

the figurative sense, if that makes sense,

nonsense, this is the no spin zone,

there is an excess of ozone layers between the

naysayers and the Shimer Bros,

hear this;

niggerspicchinkkykedikefagfuckthesearealljustwords,

you just haven’t hit the source, work on casuality,

though nature doesn’t give a shit about equality,

socially construct that social contract for me to break,

I didn’t ask to be enslaved, but neither do I strive to hate

so hand over that freedom I could just take.

 

Not quite post-structuralist, plus baby steps aren’t the key,

slow and steady won’t win the race for me.

I’m thinking maybe I should get rich quick or die trying,

but if I didn’t admit other currents fight to sway me, I’d be lying.