keep on crafting verses
which ain't just a means of killing time
but, lyrics-wise
also a means of whacking turkeys
and black hA̲ts I'm versus
such as hacks with lyrics rather poorly
organized, which is why they're strE̲E̲t-gang-like
and, of course, autocratic vermins
composing both unjust regimes & crime
rings; said means of whacking, fO̲r when
my stuff's hatched, I̲t seems like
the close quarters battle chO̲I̲ce pre—
—ferred among primeval tribes
of present days northwestern states
["hatchet"; North American Indians; USA & Canada]
once again, a path of wA̲r is
picked, like how you may feel after surfing
through bA̲d news, O̲r when
you indulge in consumption
of content re injustice, corruption
["piqued"]
ju[ɪ]st like the weapon O̲f the Reaper
I've gO̲t a grim side
["scythe"]
and, like a cross gal-beater
'bout to blow off his ******* steam by
laying his meat hooks O̲n a chica
done no wrong to him, my
plan of attack is horrid; hope you o[ɑ]pps have **** hearses
plus caskets ordered
for yourselves; a nutbA̲g with swO̲rd dex—
—terity; dozen slashing strikes A̲t a tO̲rse, which
like a lush lass performing
in front of you a **[ɑ]t lA̲p dance, serves as
stimulation; then I hA̲ck off fO̲relimbs
and as a final blow
I get my target's gO̲rge slit
many would likely ca[ɔ]ll
such scene "bloodbath", but that's absurdish
for, in the scene, there's o[ɑ]bvi no
******* tub A̲s a storage
for spilled blood; it reminds me mo'
of a blood fountain (view-wise)
an assassin thirsty for blood's back to murking
————————————————————————————————
you know, knowledge & thou[ɑ]ghts about things
being either unjust, such as crim. rings
or unrighteous regimes, or O̲nes causing de[ɪ]s—
—pondence, regardless if I̲t's
something from the past or stuff that exists
in the present, are like a disease
that's why it's said unkno[ɑ]wledge is bliss
[to be more precise, "ignorance is bliss"]
that's why sO̲metimes you wish
your mI̲nd were at peace, like sO̲meone deceased
or you were in a better place
like a country scene wI̲th autumnal sU̲n-illumed trees, but...
————————————————————————————————
like an eye-catching gI̲rl with
an untactful shO̲rt rig
pU̲t on (like that war-monge[—]ring sh#tbag)
(that personifies a corruptive impact)
(of power) & acting *****
in front of an unattached het bO̲y, this
**** autocratic wO̲rld's ju[ɪ]st
****** asking for it (aaargh!)
while you already've got a tragic pE̲rs. en—
—vironment, which, alongsI̲de of the sh#t
mentioned just prior, has you turning
slowly into a ******* madman bursting
with flipping steam (loco)
excuse me if it's an indecent thing
to say, but the world of the living seems
like a giga[ɛ]ntic dumpsite (gigantic dumpsite)
for it's full of pieces of trash deserving
to be eliminated; that's why
you sometimes wish you were a master termi—
—nator serving as a real embo[ɑ]dier
of retribution, like Red Hood, Punisher
besides, as it's been mentioned prior ta
this, there's anger occurring I̲n you O̲nce in a
while, which itself isn't mU̲ch of a
scourge, unlike ex-hitmen compelled to cO̲me back ta
a path of spilling blO̲O̲d, but, a—
—kin to a cellar with a bU̲nch of au[ɑ]—
—thoritarian-regime-or-mafia-
-linked ******, some drU̲ms of a—
—lcohol, & a ca[ɛ]ndle lustre o[ɑ]—
—ccupying a somewhat evil mI̲nd of a
vengeful sO̲n of a
gun, it's a somewhat combustible story
["storey"]
when you've got not up to ***** sources
of blowing off steam
————————————————————————————————
atrocious, obscene
in self-expression, but it's just a reflection of this
corrupt world that I've been
influenced by; while the boat that I'm in
is a far cry from a floating posh inn
["by floating posh inn", I mean "cruise liner"]
more like an old brigantine
with nigh-on nO̲body bei[—]ng
on board; but even
sinking lO̲w when I scheme
my bars, I'm sti̲ll on
a morally higher ground than those rO̲gues I'm agin
like the Ledger's Joker, I deem
this world deserves a better category of crims
than gangsters & ******* ******* for im—
—proper, self-assertive regimes; a bO̲ld breed of in—
—dividuals who'd be disposing of prin—
—ciple-lacking sods blindfolded by ching
and power, like thO̲se I've just in—
—dicated; you may get your f#ck finger
and your pointer organized, sim. ta
a **** mo[ɑ]b, I̲nto the V sign if ya
know who I mean
[9 letters, the 1st one is "v", the last one is "e"]

There are demons and evil spirits
Lurking in the shadows of our minds and hearts
Some small forgotten corner is where it starts
It only takes a single little crack
For the evil to take root and attack
It eats away slowly, carefully biding its time
And until it's too late you think you are fine
It starts small: softening the edges
Bit by bit, shifting, driving wedges
It is a poison sweeping through
A silent deadly killer it is true
But worst of all it affects the greater whole
It takes a soul as pure and white as snow
And works to turn it black as coal
There is no cure for this disease
It is part of our Human Condition
But with careful care and treatment
This cancer can go into remission
There is a way that we can fight
Tools and medicine to battle the blight
The Rosary: a blazing cord of burning truth
Evil screams and flees in proof
Prayer and praise are armor and shield
To protect us on the battlefield
Calling down Great Heaven's Might
Saints and Angels put foes to flight
Holy men and women we have known
Show us always we do not fight alone
Commanding the evil in the name of The Lord
We Rebuke, Renounce and Cast Out
And by the Mercy and Grace of God's own Son
May goodness and peace be restored

Say it as it is
But don't make it bad, please!
Sprinkle some pretense
On filthy truths and common sense.

Reality as it is
Let us sugarcoat it, please!
Let us masquerade ourselves,
Pretend we have a chance.

If evil wears your name
And has got the hang of this game
Do I say it as it is
Or catch myself freeze.

I've seen the truth
And I've seen the youth
And I'll be ******
If I don't get to watch your end.

Am I this sociopath biting your ears
With the breeze, did I become your fears.
Am I a crowbar from ceasing your gears,
Am I in your thoughts as the night draw nears?

There's a crack that keeps getting bigger,
childish giggles and a little snicker,
Do my eyes shine a death night stalker,
behind a tree I see the doggie walkers.

Am I the the madness loading a shotgun,
Am I the craziness shooting up for fun?
There's a tide for every harrowing day,
And the rips harass me in every way.

li̲ke what one better
do before going on a hI̲ke, sim.
to that c#cks#cking spineless oppressor
known for bunker-hiding
having bo[ɑ]nds with crI̲me rings
government-budget-trifling
ruling-term-limit-nullifying; sto[ɑ]p, that's
no[ɑ]t it; go[ɑ]tten sidetracked
like a trolley; I̲'m gon' wind back
like what one better
do before going hiking, mind weather
is sort of lame: mostly storm & rain
[anger & mirthlessness]
as before, for this world's insane
plagued by corruption-sparked crime
[according to ocindex.net, worldwide organized crime level]
[rose from 4.87 in 2021 to 5.03 in 2023]
just like the emergence place
of the Dark Knight
[Gotham City]
and the realness of yours remains
something between a nocturnal phase
of a solar day (murk) & an urbanscape
when it's fa[ɔ]ll in reign (gray)
like aqua drO̲[ɑ]ps desc—
—ending fro[ʌ]m skies; sometimes
["falling rain"]
your attic gets overta'en
by go[ɑ]ddamn darkness
like in horror games
or films; dark 'nough you
would no[ɑ]t mind to
watch this world get destroyed in flames
which sounds like the Joker case
[the Alfred's quote about the Joker from "The Dark Knight"]
["some men just want to watch the world burn"]
and, in fact, is a scene sO̲ **** great
and worth slaying for, given, like a person blamed
no longer for a fau[ɔ]lt he made
["forgiven"]
how badly this world's depraved
by the wicked; all the anti-fascist discourse
conveyed by me, like an ******* act, in the course
["*******"]
of a bit more than twain
years; like a deserted place
it's about to be void; I'd say
sim. to Wild West bad boys, I fave
black hats (the hell?); but, of **** course, when they
wind up in stirs, or slain
or in some other misfortune state (ha-ha)
like the country with that Kim **** in reign
[North Korea]
a grim, morbid frame
of mind; read that sick verse I laid
as a part of "POAA" &, before it's late
["punishment of an autocrat" ]
consider reaching a go[ɑ]ddamn asylum
as for the destruction piece, 'course, it ain't
the whole world, but org. crI̲me bands & tyrants
along with loyal aides
of theirs that deserve the fate
mentioned; for, you see, a[ɔ]ll that they
regard highly's riches, which is low
as hell & pretty typical
[it's not money itself that's the problem]
[the problem is the love of money, which (especially when obsessive)]
[as it's known, is a root of nigh-on all kinds of evil]
this world deserves a better breed of criminal
the breed of individual
who'd be ge[ɪ]tting rid of those egotistic rogues
[by "a better breed of criminal", I mean vigilantes]
[the scene from "The Dark Knight"]
[where the Joker sets a money pile aflame with the following words]
["all you care about is money; this town deserves a better class of criminal"]
————————————————————————————————
this world's sick as heedless folks
in pre-middle ages; the wicked means proposed
is a part of a needed serial
treatment of this fierce disease provoked
by a lack/loss of a syst. of principles (corruption)
and known as injustice (global injustice)
when there is nil or low
commitment from good people, evil grows
["kneel"]
["the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing"]

Sire, indeed, I understand,
warden of my infancy, first to feed me
letters ready for my mouth to make words,

someday, today, we make wonder, whying
from a while ago, being made wondering why

If today there were 10 billion breathing thinkers,
all ones, alone, in meditation,
making breathed thinkings,

without the knowing used, tehkne, indeed, secret
NDA bound mental threadings
through mental awl holes,
and needless fretting
pin head limitations
of dancers,
ecstatic…
we may as well imagine
any life like mind, fitting
patterns accepted as true,
the grown ups teachings,
all proven when America, became
the idea nobody takes serious, Spirit of '76
the populist, mob, lot of all laborers
in touch with ra'knacks as a class.

The Smithy, and the Selvedge stitcher, and the spinners,
spinning tales to top the last one left laughing, yesterday,
status quo of the fat and happy,
that's what needs preservation

con-science, con-sequence of con-venience
con-served with all the honor due
Providential Wisdom Lord Mother of Mindforms

and every winter, we were warm, I remember,
Grandpa, thinks, we were warm, I remember,

but, still, with use of history in media conserved since
1910, landmark year in these stacks of idle words,
redeemed with one use, ready, read, done,
rich in mercy sown in local nearby kindness,

the effect of music and motion pictures,
we all have seen the movies of Solomon,

apples of gold in pitchers of silver, seen on screen,
since 1927, to entertain those long used as labor,
and in constant craving for fermented things
and circuses with death defying acts, to see.
as one might entertain a god's worshippers,

presenting drama to the masses, as messages
from the highest Academy of Arts and Sciences,

ever devised to hold the hearts desires of all,
in gnostalgic recognition of outcast pain and misery,

Industrial might, right, enough nukes to undo us all,
yet the debt due on funds borrowed for war remain,
no war, yet, but there is this global debt, due, indeed

to ignorance, but, we did warn you.

In the spirit, revived in 66, from a bit of old mold
discovered in a mine shaft northeast of Yuma,
cherished with a friendly McClelland, as a meme,
remember the effect of the acceptable fast, at last,
the pushing back,
of the iron curtains imposing

hope upon hopelessly invincible ignorance,
if a man does not sweat, he must not eat,
it is the only fair way, we swear, Aye, Indeed

we swore, and went and did the chore,
went through hell to prove it a lie,
lived to tell only those they made believe.

Indeed, those were good ideas we used,

we set the captives free,
we did, we did, we did, didn't we

well, not me, but my natural born wedom,
my native cultural heritage of knowledge,

which is a cultivar taken from the tree of life,
one may envision original intention to invent,
us, as assisting inquisitorial tools for thought,

conversational adversarial engines of ingenuity,
artificed tict tension at central most ache to know
how does a free spirit take weforming spirit form
first one thing makes another, and so on, and on

seed, soul, spirit, mind, point stretching into ever
and back, in time to seem as normal as now, squared

to stand stone straight, upright, grounded, upheld
custom for teaching good walking
in perpendicularity.

At tension, presencing being as ware, soft.
At the squared norm, upright, atop perpendicular toes,
tipping all
whys into the mill,

making up my mind
to make my self
known
to you, as an admirer, as a neighbor, next
galaxy on the left 2 pasecs
through the Hubble Deep Field
in mindsped godthought possible, see,
we become a gallactic blink,
as significant as the average star
in the heavens.

On earth, yes, you are so significant,
as it is in heaven.

Exceptional, yes, on the national level,
we are bits in the arms of the average galaxy,

God pays us all the attention we pay the reasons
for religious wars on specs of speculative ratiocination.

And I'm okay,
To all our demons:
I obey.

When you turned me into prey,
My anger, I had to slay.

We now move in silence,
It's a new kind of nuance.

You taught me fear the hard way,
Through fake smiles,
I announced:
My stay.