My Round Table

Internal load of heretics,
Quell this chemical uprising,
My insides wont stay the same for long.

Demons sewn in the veil,
Well suited and bound to arms,
Ill fit, but its worn as a three piece.

Shogun of the mind,
Tears could rend all but flesh,
Draw your blade on the mirrored whetstone.

Accuser in a bottle,
Stoic warped reflections,
The glass might last as long as you.

Night's chosen hero,
Driven sane by his quest,
Seeking madness through experience.

Monochrome convict,
The cage is just a concept,
Scratching on the void just seems desperate.




Here are the original notes for this piece which eventually became the above:

Inner voices stirred by love, rabble v rabble
 recycled literally and figuratively to the next
Mistakes and traumas worn like Armour, an incomplete but ongoing set, maybe shines and collectibles
The voice of violent reason, guided and molded by ????entropic??? sadness
Bottled feelings given life inside, maybe reflected in said glass
In the darkness writing for the self gives self centered clarity
Things arent allways black and white but we are bound to one or th other, sometimes both
but on the gran scheme of things the black and white misses out pretty much every other color

Baby Collard

Eat your greens though its suggested not to smoke them,
Nature nurture is it a habit or a routine?
Raised these roots up in this concrete flowerbed,
Surprised to see them, fuck it we'll cut them anyway.
These cycling blades wont look right on your insides,
Split the whittled rings that bar you from the blossom,
Try to struggle through some cracks in the alleyways,
Savor seconds in the sunlight or the acid rain,
Mimicry of the breeze that you dance with,
Wrestle weeds for some streaks of the sky's gold,
Seedless ethics pollinate the plant's perception,
You've been pruned, cloned and put on display,
The framed crisis stemmed here, sprouted cynosure,
Green thumbs tend the start of the undergrowth,
Mother nature only cared when you were grown,
Subtle saplings start their journey introverted,
Integrate the night and looked upon the doubting eye,
So much light exists, you know its not for you.

Life Until White Noise - Slam 4

Lucid or Learned,
Dreams or reality,
The guidelines memorized,
Lacking in clarity.

Try to start a confession,
Stumble among these words,
Staggered around these subjects,
Struggled to be heard.

Sights on that emerald titan,
Main man acting a child,
Put on those big boy breeches,
Run my mouth for a while.

All the signs were present,
These words we couldn't doubt,
I went and crunched the numbers,
The math it all checks out,

Got the science to back it,
Chemicals under the tongue,
Can we enjoy this moment,
At least while we're still young.

Will i still make sense?
Did i dose to strong?
These trips are so nostalgic,
This could feel so wrong.

Lost in my own instructions,

Always read too deep,
I could drown myself,

Wet the page in ink and sleep.

Sins buried in silence,
Submerged in the crowd,

Sentenced to violence

Cant help but project it aloud.

Penitentiary days,
Set this prison ablaze,
Flee in complete silence,
Scents will give me away,
Wasn't an easy escape,
But we made it a mission,
Intended all out war,
Degraded into attrition,
burned, bruised and riddled,
Fought the flames and the system,
Till white noise.

3 Dinge

Blue, grey, green,
Crazy spectrum for a rainbow,
So we flowed down the river,
Anxious magnets half achromatic,
Gathered vibrant moss,
The journey was the treasure.

Draw, lose, win,
Silver tongue siren its late for the night,
Unlikely hypothetical,
Swapped it for some history,
Traced the line down your body,
My artistry's a mystery to you.

Drained, sleep, dream
Twin entendre for this cycle so persistent,
Zealous marble spires,
Swarmed by ants from overseas,
These shelved jungles could be prisons,
Aged rings made knowledge.

Mouth, Eyes, skin,
Practical description for the blind,
Tend to the internal terrarium,
That noise is ravenous butterflies,
Subtle honors lace death theory,
Then we smothered it in comedy.



Or maybe i need therapy.
(Who doesn't?)

XL boy XS stage

Man of the year, of the day of the hour,
Revert to the boy when you lose all power,
Scenes seem scripted; new act, new page.
The boy wants to act big on a small stage.

Hope to flee the fool that follows you,
Hide from your shadow in shade,
Blame the blackened being beneath you,
Till dusk and its blinding cascade.

Stuttered lines a million times,
On this stage where the strings don't belong.
Classic choirs and things that inspire,
As the mouth doesn't move to the song,

Obligations hang from threads,
Severed ties or severed heads,
These strings they sew and seal the dead,
They wrap and warp the "guidelines".

Each chord that wraps will bind and blind,
Every layer will shield and save the soul.
Is darkness death? or the end of the show?
You're here because you lost control.

Beneath the Skin

Beneath my skin lies something else,
Twisted guts conflicted,
Ribboned knots around the neck of those who feel constricted.
Vengeance red amidst the shame,
Run their course and feed a flame.
Through veins more open than me,
Through parts more known than me,
Through people more sacred than me.

Beneath the skin creeps green with envy,
Flowers, weeds and flesh,
The amalgamation of the two is viewed as as something less.
Immolation of the chest,
These sprouts and cinders lay here; a mess.
Making scars more final than me,
Making lungs push harder than me,
Making peers more essential than me.

Beneath the skin runs water and metal,
Quench the steel to harden,
Use whats left to drown the stress and nourish this old garden.
Suffocation, grab the trees,
A nostalgic sense that you might freeze.
Missing scenes more tempered than me,
Missing futures much brighter than me,
Missing moments much bigger than me.

Beneath the skin becomes diluted,
A pallet as pale as ash,
I see black and white, i feel black and white,
But cannot live with either.
These scarlet streaks and baleful blues have all but washed away.

Not My Body

The hearts pushing, the brain reigns,
The chest prison, with ribs for the cage,
Waiting for the veins to be replaced with some chains,
This husk is a collective but its shrinking with age.

The eye sees, but these aren't mine,
The wounds heal, but it wasn't with time,
Find inside yourself a weapon, to kill the butterfly's
The valor you exhibit will demand a sacrifice.

Stomach burns, for the wrong fuel,
The mind knows better but the heart rules,
Your presence, just its essence haunts the molecules,
And in turn that very essence turned me to a ghoul.