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Copycat, collect the nectar,
it will optimize your splendor.
Grasping it by the gallons,
drinking poison, immune, callous,
to the pain you aligned, and profusely measured.

Fixated on this peeling label,
bend it back, are you able,
To contain symptoms as they surface?
Written down as toxic in cursive,
a sign of recovery crowned as 'fatal'

Copycat, take your weapons,
along the speckled crimson as logical 'sessions'.
Brim the shell, or remain hollow?
Graphic truth is hard to swallow,
unseen pain is being reflected-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
I wanted to do some form of rhyming, but the emotion had to stay so I know the poem is a little odd.
I need only to smirk and you’re mine
Anytime
If it’s god that you want
I have dozens in mind
Devilishly divine
Bending time like a grandeur delusional
Spine  

In a mad hatter ectoplas-mystical slime
A prismatic drug addict’s first nursery rhyme
Of accursed hearse verses of graphic design
Now to lay to rest intellect spectacles musing
Of selves glorified more than those of my choosing
To deify Destiny’s
Deathly serenity
Plentifully sending me vibrant surprises
And penning my ending in violent demises
Disguises surmised by the climate arises
Girl always there riding my similar waves
As I try to save face digging mechanized graves

But the cloud tentacles
To the depths
Drag me down
To demented ascension
Black holes in the ground
Where disciples of light
And my huntress in white
Vivify me by day
Resurrect me at night
To instruct and deduct
Reasoning in a state
Of a being supreme
Contemplating its fate
Crow 6d
(I have been informed that a trigger warning is advisable as this deals with anxiety and depression in a rather graphic way)

the dark approaches as if it is an ineluctable storm
created by thoughts falling like dominoes

or explodes into existence in a breath
detonated by a word innocently spoken

an eclipse constructed of your fears
like locusts eating all the light

with hooks and claws they grasp the air
pulling it up from your lungs

fighting blind against attacks from every side
weapons fall from your trembling grasp

I still see you dimly, enveloped in despair
you no longer see me at all

I have become a phantom, intangible
dispersed into powerless anguish by your terror

my voice is only a murmur to you
a far-off echo, indistinct

defenses and barriers you have labored on
transform into spun glass latticework

shattering through them without knowing
shards left embedded in your skin

stumbling blindly in the darkness
you are swallowed whole into the void

once more you are ripped away
imprisoned in the Stygian, pitiless hole

the emptiness turns its gaze to me
mocking laughter blisters my flesh

I can only wait and call to you
how long till you return

to me
Aiyo I'll turn ya body into bean curd fuck what you heard move the herd through my choice of words
Vocal chords Slashin' through billboards
Number one on the chart bullet accuracy sticking like darts flows part
The skies light to dark my rhymes'll park like Noah Arc chillin' on a fountain ain't no mountain
High enough call out any bluff who says their tough? Sniff crime call me McGruff leave a snuff
Worse than a Iraq war fourscore my styles pour
All over the radio stations blood bath graphic wraths drawn from my mental graphs
Fools smile but I get the last laugh
Deaths makin' face now ya body trading places
With ya soul as it races
To the skyline no rewind ya legacy decline times is mine a barrier to the sun and shine
All day we grind while y'all remain inline my mic skills got me frontlined
Check it I be the mic originator greater than the next hater
So my nines will degrade ya send ya back to ya maker undertaker
Shake ya
With my earthquake flows formin' portals bigger than the black hole leave ya third eye swole
My thoughts travelin' faster than the speed of light say goodnight from the snake bite
A rhyming python wears cables and nylon runnin' bars harder than marathon true champion none could knock a don
Birthed by the sun raised by moon Sonic booms soundwaves from heart rates feelin' doom and soon
To be resting in the womb
The belly of the earth retaining my turf know my worth make words hurts
So suckas better tuck in ya skirts
I'm catching mirth
Along with death til my last breath cookin' up rhymes from the pot of my mind n continue to shine
Its asinine to flex ya mind if you cross the gun line don't be a victim of a graphic design

(Ya tapped out)



Scatzzz all over the kitty katz with my woody bat making them brains cracks
Cells it ain't hard to tell niggaz fear me cuz I be the archangel Michael
fallin' deep into the depths of my hell o well
If you try to inhale my lyrical tales this ship is set to sail
On ya brainwaves these days fools rappin' for cheap pay lookin' all gay fuck that I rather use the AK
Sittin' by the window seal signing the release will my soul'll still
Be reaching regardless the hardest artist
Usually ends up a carcass manifest the darkest
Rhymes but shine light at the same time crime at an all time
High once I blaze my thoughts cells fought & caught
By the smokin' arrows of a ghostly pharoah
Thats just my ancestors though lettin' me know it's time to show and go blow for blow toe to toe
Hands or the chrome pistol
The ghetto Aristotle makin' bodies mold from the enemies that caught a cold
Danial John Aug 6
I'm sorry...
I've been on one.
But just because I love you,
Doesn't make me awful.

One thing I've been,
Is hella thoughtful.
Pushing and pulling WAY too hard...
It's only cuz I want you.

No...
I need you.
At least if imma be complete.
I'm in desperate need of a redo I think.

I read you... And you me.
We run on a pair of graphic stories.
And the summation is:
Water circling down the kitchen sink.

Enough playing.
Are you willing or no?
Cuz I'm about ready to go.
Sooooo...

Do you wanna take a chance and let this whole thing unfold?
I could talk myself in circles... No... Spirals for hours if I let myself. I just wish I could talk with you, like we used to. I miss you.
/                                america, july 18th:
  and the utter media shambles -
like viagra and steroids
for the uninitiated -
     tongues without the rattlesnake
trill of an ᚨᚱ:
   numbed w'ah w'ah peddling
of woe to row the sinking boat:
maniac adult funfair
attempting a nostalgia
for the playground game
of bulldog...

                russia, 25th march:
the kemerovo fire (siberia) -
          children frying, screaming,
perhaps even hoping -
  a shying herod, the example
of: as moloch descended...
          prayers in the fire
                  by the innocents...

england, july 19th -
   alternative to rehydrating
using water...
    a generous 5 hour sleep -
sucking on the remains
of last night's lemon
     used to infuse the subtle
smoky of bell's whiskey,
playlist:

- the jon spencer blues
  explosion (bellbottoms)
- britney spears (criminal)
- twenty one pilots (heathens)
- calvin harris (this is what you came for)
- camila cabello (habana)
- rihanna (disturbia)
- birdbrain (youth of america)
- ghost (ritual)
- focus (hocus pocus)
- edwyn collins (a girl like you)
- the guess who (american woman)
- the knack (my sharona)
- cronica (herr mannelig)

and then onto buckling in
4 beers and thinking
about black holes as the pin-head
of antimatter -
a dead sun...
     dead, but not dead...

   and the first, crude graphic
tomb raider game...

   rather than having completed
it...
     since only owning
a demo...

                 investigating
the possibility of 2D objects in
3D space...
       well: the universe isn't even
exactly 3D: it's hyper-3D...
    but in the tomb raider game
you could walk up to a minor
detail in the game, a fern,
and observe two-dimensionality
in a "three dimensional space"...

   namely: the ferns were all 2D,
and rotated within a "hyperbole"
of the eye -
   however you observed the "object"
it rotated round and round,
never allowing you to see
    its demoniac otherside -

i can only expect dead suns to
behave in such a manner -
   two dimensional objects in a three
dimensional subject matter -
almost paradoxical -

     rotating at immense speed...
invigorating a near but not quiet
a postportem of a death...

       and you really can see UV light
surface
staring at a glaring hot sun with
a naked eye -
   and see the same hyper-rotation -
it's almost like looking at
molten silver, but with a hint
of violet - i.e. akin phosphorescence:
but in the daytime...

and who said you need to
ingest hallucinogenics -
    and enter the labyrinth of a short,
short, history,
    of the chipmunk caveman?

i'm just drunk, you're probably
sober...
    but those guys doing
a timothy leary sermon?
   they're...
     gone.......................... gone -
     they hit the tangens curve.
Johnny Noiπ Jul 22
A call goes out to America for
heroes but what they're getting are
modestly dressed professional
women; which is cool, after years
of men in suits & ties; so, soon
the millennial girls coming of age
will go nude & perform kinky,
graphic real sex up close onscreen;
heroes & heroines are things of
the past; it's all about the money
Johnny Noiπ Aug 2
That mad genius once observed;
a century before graphic novels:
Whoever fights w/ superheroes
should see to it that in the same
process, one does not become
a supervillian; & if one gazes
long enough into the computer
screen; the computer will gaze
back into one & steal one's data.

— The End —