Diving into bath salts, raving flue that is as sicking as math, at least that is what I conclude from my findings presented to the court. Objection, objection, sir I don't see the connection, maybe your rhyme scheme needs perfection. Maybe it does, but ***** it, I'm blessed by God; baby please sit down and take a chill pill and just enjoy this buzz. Busting off, so back off, bout to prove my case like I’m Ace Attorney, oh and I know it’s off topic but if I lived in America, I would’ve voted for Bernie. What the **** am I on? Came to save the digital world you can call me a digimon, you bet I’m a champion! Serendipity dear deputy; I’ll be typically wittingly searching for some tranquility. What is the validity of this vicinity as I only accept notability and won’t let this become a liability!

Pathologically paraplegic hypochondriac with insomniac who be popping poems profusely perfect; while whimsically worm's try to be strategic, but sadly choke and lose it. Miles set apart; it certainly is not a strut in some park, but everyone has to start somewhere before they engrave their mark. Don't reside yourself to just being a silhouette, nor be one to toot your clarinet. Two sides to every person like Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde; be careful to not let your pride turn into carbon monoxide. For pride will always lead to your downfall, so please take off your iron curtain and tear down your Berlin wall. Improvident incongruous incredulous confidence; underwhelming astonishment of such fundaments of these heinous and callous acts of deceitfulness. Trickery of thy decadence; why art though jittery when you are full of benevolence? So used to getting what you want I bet; well this situation can not be fixed by dough, so I see why you are in a cold sweat! Fake confidence won't help you here especially when one lies; you made a mistake and will face the consequences and I am not one quick to forgive no matter how much you apologize.  

Don’t have time to consider your sensibility, because my life is going a twitter with too much hyperactivity for me to deal with your stupidity. Befittingly that I’ll be building up the intensity, to infinity and beyond goes this creativity of this anomaly. Not going to prolong this phenomenon, I’ll be going off like a Molotov over this intercom, yeah you better not ever underestimate this underdog. Lackadaisical are these other rappers; they’re so replaceable and incapable to be educational. Incomprehensible is this loop of hip-hop now a days, why can’t we be inspirational or is it to late because we left morals and substance back in the olden days. Can’t afford to be anchored anymore, I’ve poured in too much time to be just be locked behind some door. I refuse to be ignored and be left ashore; I am not worried about going into the storm; because you are bound to come across some things that need some work like chores. Spinning the wheel, reminiscing of how it felt when I no longer concealed who I was and my self-image had been healed.

Used to be reclusive & convinced myself that I was a duffass, but now I’m exclusive to being a smart ***. This is the new era, this is a new fire; it’s time to spice things up so better pull out the sriracha. Leading the revolution like I’m Che Guevara, I’m light as feather whatever the endeavor even if my life story doesn’t end up as pristine as Cinderella’s. Why so infatuated by worldly wants? Why so decorated when you can't hide the fact that you're the same basic *** font? Trying be something else, striving to be someone else, wanting to be anything else. You are who you are, if you think it will make things better you cucu, because in my eyes you are really a star. You have to expand your interpretation and perspective of life, you have to demand without hesitation a piece of that collective pie; because I believe everyone should be equal in this life.

Calculated bullets that go straight through my cranium; manufactured outlets that show great things but have also turned us into brainless aliens. Complicated hookups that grow irritating and become as unstable as uranium; what was once sacred has become as spontaneous as going to a gymnasium. Confiscated trinkets cast away and leaves those affected very irritate; while also simultaneously making apathetic souls that have gone through the same thing be able to understand, help or relate. Cultivated rebellious culprits that don't take the memo of being cooperative, instead they choose to be provocative and opposite of the other conglomerates. I’m so fascinated by this fabricated segregated supposedly liberated and sophisticated community; where-as some so foolishly stupidly amusingly think that everyone has the same equal chance at opportunity. Moderated, regulated and orchestrated where some are situated; if you don’t think that it has something to do with be affiliated to a certain demographic then maybe you never got educated in the affairs of those discriminated. It’s a good thing then that class is in session; so viewer or listener  please use discretion when taking time to witness or hear my position. Deafening out all ill whims; wrestling with these unsettling menacing fears and guilt from all of my sins.

Yeah no need for hallucinogens, all I need is two hydrogens and one oxygen. Rocking in my moccasins; so you can bet I am not one to drop my promises. Native honour who is also a innovative scholar and who was created not to falter. I may not be good with numbers, but I'm good at making sure you never slumber on my words; because I work on them day and night in my 36 chambers. Beware the pretender, they are manufactured by the vendors to keep us from being together. Defend your heart; be wise who you befriend and who you pick for your counterpart. There will be hurt and affection can be perverted, so know your worth and never ever let yourself be distorted. It is not your fault, it is not my fault, so then who is at fault? Is it just life in general? Is it because of the being who lives eternal? Is it all of the above? I don't know, but we shouldn't judge and instead choose to accept and love!

Pardon me Martin, but if this class were a prison I’d be the warden. I make the rules here and I took the tools given to me to get me here. So listen, please listen to my lesson that I have to present to you as class is still in session. Loading yawl with ammunition to be able to transition to be able to complete your goals or missions. No I’m not tripping, I’m driven  by a higher force to break away the old ways of thinking such as division. This is not the prohibition anymore, so please open your minds and join me on this expedition. Going into the unknown, so here’s to hoping you get through this, as time goes on and be able to look back at it we may feel like this was no more than a tiny but important milestone.  Achieve, believe, conceive, receive, intrigue, and succeed because I think you are unique. You are the only you in the whole galaxy, don’t let agony turn into tragedy; ***** anxiety; yeah and never let your dreams just be some fantasy.

Outro: Sit down class ain't over yet, forfeit those frowns or fake faint or try to jet. Lastly remember what transpired today; don't go hastily and forget about it on December break okay? For though class may be over, more days or years to come until its finally over. Though education ends, one never stops learning even on vacations with family or friends.  I hope you can look back with fondness, I hope you can stay on track in the future if you truly take the time to just focus. Is there truly an end or is this just the beginning to a new bend.

A Poem in 3 Parts by Sara L Russell, 4/6/15; 00:51am*

I

There is a grey area between
this world and the next.
People can be foolish; they dabble in ouija, in
dowsing, in automatic writing;
and - wittingly or unwittingly,
they may open a portal
to the other side.
That is how they enter.
Beware of inviting them in.

Shadow people are there
where needle pierces skin; where the ******
sits, glassy-eyed, on the precipice of oblivion;
they lurk in unholy places where godless
politicians declare themselves to be
speaking for God;
they haunt the dreams of drunkards,
schizophrenics, junkies
and the paranoid.
But they are not spun out of dreams,
they are real.

Shadow people were there
when the ancient pharaohs of Egypt
were interred, with all their gold;
they took them to Hades
for also burying their wives
and servants, alive.
They were there
in **** concentration camps,
sitting on the left shoulders
of those who blindly carried out
orders of death and torture.

They subsist in underworlds of catacombs,
they lurk in the spaces between
our conscious and unconscious minds;
In blackened mirrors they seek out a vortex,
My friends, be the light that
keeps out the darkness,
Do not seek to question the dear and foregone,
No matter how much they are missed;
for there are others lurking in the shadows.
Be not the portal inviting them in.


II

Did I see you in Bohemian Grove,
smiling at the Cremation of the Care?
Were you there,
and did you have more than one shadow?

Did I see you in that Great Hall
with chequered floors,
where the Eye of Horus
watched over a pyramid of gold?

Did you lift a cup of
the good red wine,
did blood brothers drink each other's health,
gazing through a glass darkly?

Did we toast the Cremation of the Care,
and how many others were there?


III

Sometimes we visit Hell in our dreams,
though we may fervently pray before sleep.
There is no shame in sleeping with the light on.
Wear a cross, if you think that it will help.

Sometimes the citizens of Hell visit us,
in that stasis between sleep and wakefulnes;
they are only ever seen at the outer periphery of our vision.
It's never a good idea to look at them directly.

Sometimes they venture a little closer than the rules allow.
Sometimes the line between their domain and ours is blurred.
Occasionally, the breeze seems to whisper your name -
only, it's not the breeze.

Be vigilant.
Always try to see them first.

I wonder about,
the human beings;
Why they don't
think twice, about someone's mistake?

Haven't they any time
to think twice?
or Are they
very evil?

Mistakes aren't done
Wittingly;
Mistakes are
just MISTAKES!

If human beings begin to think twice
about mistakes, one day,
The whole world
will be a fiesta.

Bath times as a child were
a mixture of joy and fear,
Lulu remembers, rubbing
her neck dry after her bath,
holding her long hair out of
the way with her spare hand.

You must wash under the arms
and your neck and between
your legs, her mother said to
her as a child, leaning over her,
pouring hot water over her head,
feeling she was drowning, she
remembers, sitting on the edge
of the bathtub, almost seeing
her mother standing there with
her usual critique and that wet
hand slapping her legs or hand
if she missed an area of skin.

Lulu rubs under her arms, raises
her hand upward as if reaching
for the moon or stars. As she
leans forward to rub her feet,
pushing the towel between toes,
she recalls her putting her feet
into her mother’s lap as she dried
them with harsh rubs, pushed
the towel between toes roughly,
causing wittingly or unwittingly
the long after remembered pain.

Her mother, hard as granite,
with reddened hands and stern
stare, cursed in the bed of her final
days, glared at Lulu as she blanket
washed her mother in the last weeks
before death came for her and carried
her off with her foul words filling the air.

Lulu lays the towel over her lap, sitting
still she leans her elbows on her legs
and hides her face in her palms, wishing
her mother could have gone out not
with curses or swear words, but psalms.

together we sit and scan through pages
searching for knowledge of savants and sages
apart by wires and  spaces deemed cyber
together in some places besotted by  desires

for that which you seek and that which you share
your hasty interests  may lead you to stare
into the abyss of the nets'  unending
the maelstroms vortex you'll soon be winding

going ye here and going ye there
hopeful your meanderings
shall leave you fair
for within some sites there's the inveigle snare
ultimately constructed to leave you bare

go wittingly into the all- electric  fray
some sensitive toes you'll invariably  belay
don't fret over words harmlessly mislaid
to err is only human, short-circuits  allayed

8 minutes they say, minutes before we would know, 8 minutes of blissful ignorance 8 minutes with that wonderful glow.  The warmth and light still there with us, even if the source had already run low, gone out given up the fight. It would be the same way I never heard the crack, never saw the act that would break me. Never saw the thoughts, would it be different if I did see. All the while my 8 minutes ticked, I was unaware in blissful agony. Walking on with my life as if things were the way they were supposed to be. I knew not that I strolled to the headsman’s axe, that just around the corner lying in wait would be the bait that would reel me in. On to dooms fisherman to be stabbed  and laid to rest to be devoured by sorrows lips with some nice fish dip. No I was unaware, I wasn’t scared, I held a false belief which for but 8 minutes I thought was true. Like the sun I felt the warmth, saw the light, within this knowledge I took some pride. Not noting the ever small change, that the end of my rope approached, and I ever wittingly encroached upon my own dismay.

That is why it hurt so much, why the fear the panic took such a strong hold. For on false confidence I had become bold. The glass I stood on broke and it was the end of my world. Floating, as darkness hugghed my eyes, pressing them down like a forced lover, my ears only hearing the thundering rhythm of my failing heart. My skin tingling with pin ****** from a thousand kisses or a thousand licks from a cat named fear. Off balance and falling, falling down to the bowels of despair swallowed whole by betrayal. But even as I fell my mind went back out of my hell, into those sweet glorious 8 minutes where I was free. Where I could be who I wanted to be, go where I wanted to go. I lived a lie, a falsehood, an over drawn good bye. And yet did it matter I was happy, filled with glee, hopping and skipping as joyous as could be. And in the penultimate moment I begin to think and see. Is it better to live a lie let everything go as you wish it to be. Or know the cold cutting truth, bleed with the knowledge, know and rue the day you were born. Is reality truly better than fantasy is does the moment we live in matter if it is made up. And yet In my final moments of clarity I see so many others falling with me. Yet then I note that they smile before they are smote. Even if it is for a little while they continue to in ignorance smile. Unable to change their fate, for it has become far too late. They choose to live in their 8 minutes. Choose to make out their own seconds. And that I realize isn’t as bad as it could be.

Maybe we will be together someday, when I have moved away, and when we have become strangers once again.


    Maybe I can manage to conjure up the words to once again speak to you, and maybe we will have small talk; you will say you're fine, and I will lie and say I am too, but in my heart I know i will still hurt for you.


    Maybe I'll walk by your shop, and you will be standing outside-smoking a cig, watching and wondering if we could've been something big.


     I remember the day I met you, it's still as vivid in my mind, you drew a picture of a bird with a clock, you asked me what you should title it and I wittingly replied. "Time flys."


     Just like a bird, with a familiar tune, our love and our life flew by, all too soon. That picture entailed how it would end, it meant that one day, you would just be an old friend.


     I'm no scientist, or mathematician, but the only thing I know is true is this: every 7 weeks, your red blood cells die, and new ones form; eventually I'll have a new body that you will have no longer touched.


     So sip your tea, and splurge in your wealth, one day you will look back, and wish you had changed yourself.

You can feel my wistful and grateful looks
Following your silhouette along Boyukshor
In one of the dreamy days, we'll abruptly meet there
Very deeply I believe and I am sure.

Ah, my lake, I see you through her shiny eyes...
She loves you and I love both of you in turn.
I feel I was a bit late to love the life,
In revenge, my feelings it'll wittingly burn.
  
The last joys are shining out in a glow,
Is there a chance of constant unity?
Just virtuous Boyukshor always stands by
At least for calling up dreams of you and me

Having three lines and points of feelings,
I tried to match them from any angle.
Among me, Boyukshor and your existence,
I could not create a triangle.

Either me - standing lonely on its shore,
Or just you - wandering along by your own
And Boyukshor can't see us together just yet
One of us incessantly has to feel alone...