This ship setting sail
Destined to sink
A whole crew disappeared
No bodies found
Mayday!
Somebody come and save us
Mayday!!
Please I'm begging you
Is anybody out there?!
I'm drowning in the sorrow
The seemingly endless questions
I just need a savior
Not bleeding from a cross
I need a hand in the dark
A reason to pull myself out of this
I'll just keep falling back in
Slipping deeper and deeper every time
MAYDAY!
Can someone answer me
MAYDAY!!
Please I'm begging
IS ANYBODY OUT THERE?!
Guess I'm just another soul lost out at sea

Theresa Mayday
MAYDAY
MAYDAY

Mayday
ˈmeɪdeɪ/
noun
1. an international radio distress signal used by ships and aircraft and people who don't want a right leaning, heartless government "we sent out a Mayday"

Fragile egg-shell mind on dawn’s highway bleeding the segue between times traversed only in momentary dreams or in enduring excursions

We drag our droll and quaint 60s baggage like the luggage of a safari made of concrete girding a cavernous expanse of unheralded ground

With our ears oriented to the floor, we leap out of body never to deplore….never to ignore….never to miss the blue bus of our drafted imaginations, so carefully culled from brash elitism

I trounce the intervening time between being friendless and an ironic end, and an irenic comrade becoming the dearest amazed but always aplomb friend

We simper in our glorious traversal, and though bedraggled through an ornamented cavern we linger just long enough to be celebrated

Then a blues riff emanates from a vapid bar, and finally someone heralds my exhumed memory still rusty with the pavement of encased concrete on an empty or full tomb

So I wander in my mind to that roughshod Paris glassy tincture a romanticized gild of proper sensibility crafted in the tongues of lizards emulating the tongues of serpentine Anglicans

As the power of love transcends the love of power, both are afforded serendipitously upon the stately occasion of a fitful revolt where heads literally rolled and deaths still unfurl from the slippage of a violent malevolent eternity, crafting a new creative way to expedite the smite of preventable scourge

So, I see your picaresque side and your wide-eyed love for a listless ship anointed of a crystal blip just detectable long enough on RADAR to become the statistic to crack the slim WHIP

No wigs are needed at this formality, no figs grow from trees forty-five years buried and almost a full month unsung

Pitiable cretins of an invented insanity, they scoff at my ravenous and portentous heart for its excess and for aligning with an upstart verging on only a specious insanity

Why in all humanity could a month be mustered with every defense of history and yet for it to be so widely flouted as a risible exercise in futility

The irony that the artistic glamor of a past vogue becoming a revival that is often toked only to one song but never to the memorial of great cavernous and commodious imaginations, staggers with dismay where otherwise the mayday would be a disaster but still a great day

Then I look at a triggered-fingered omen of a death so ominous yet so brazenly confronted as the ambassadors of time provide plaudits to a fearless martyrdom

Why such a sad spate, why such a stringent but malevolent fate a malediction on a family whose crest is not crestfallen like rolling waves but ornamented with gravity impounding its own weight

A fugacious tomb, an eternal flame, a swan song announcing an independent authority on a prescient demise mashed and deprived

A single shot rippling through the broadened space between clasped eternity and a histrionic disgrace as a psychological confederate pays lip service to a reiterative applause

A cousin hardly American in a defected record of incendiary plumes of a hoarse hatred of waxen discs and flying discs alike,  climbs out of a bonfire mounted purely out of vindictive spite

Then upon a great white buffalo a wrapped package of Californian love before California ever alighted like something beyond an avaricious dove, saw a rocky park and a hearth of illuminated darkness the singular spark

Captain Morgan knows the jackknife applause of a botched deal morphing into a disbelieved spiel. A shibboleth of enormous mystical weight crashing down from an ethereal abode and heaven heavily saddened cannot hardly appeal

Then a loving spoonful of crystal blue persuasion led me to Ethel’s regimented keepsake and for once in my life nobility and I became a grateful waif. But temerity laughed, splintered spacecraft, and the wooden paws of a bearish applause led to resurgent clarity

Blinking stars shattered by knighted and raw applause punctured the liberated might of a sentient hortatory savior grasped by the internecine wrench of a waxen time

An indie track slides by unnoticed in an aleatory time, and the threadbare whine of centuries of lament becomes a dastardly barn set ablaze with the fury of ancients and the scurry of faineant patents

Perfidy slides in recess, and in gentle forbearance the winged angel lingers like a halo on conifer and spring above a remedial ring

I dial frisky celerity tingling the dangling claws of a raven’s screed and in plunder of all history’s pilfer secrets I eagerly weave a tapestry Indiana Jones himself would be proud to watch

Not the riotous ruin of a mystery tour of verdure crippled by genocide but overcome by the revived life of raised rain razing the moments of indelible pain

But the culmination of a proffered time taken at its word for its every careened bird, for its every brazen gird. The manger of proctored stars calls us home tonight and home forever. Life in quaked timorous stumbles suddenly no longer so fitfully absurd.

The quixotic plundered of pirates and emperors in direct emulation of some crooned pastiche of whittled integrity, surges above any encased blurb and any vain testament to a pyramid rigid in destiny and ragged in desultory and sturdy sincerity

Multiplying the ineffable by the division of arable divorced from edible is too creative to be eaten as pabulum when sparks curdle flickered moonlight crimson and that become golden only to the last laugh of ennobled ragamuffins

Frankly the desert of melliferous gorillas abetting the lark of a heavily vetted camarilla engaged in the sinecure of a rigged wall on a main street to block the tall from the lame bleat. Stocks grazed, costs engaged on a littoral beach at the end of a Bossy promenade

This prayer is a cutthroat collapse of a merry spare, a ribbed ****** waiting to plunge into the antithesis of female despair, but sincere in its restraint that vixens courted in love aren’t courted in litigation of a wagered dare

Ambulances chase Deloreans through the desolate moon-stricken skies of a time agape with fleets of phantasmagoria on a Cliffside too wise to ever mince words or excise cries

Skulking the red-teared caverns of entombed films and lampooned tinctures on a passion vetted only for certain and utter deracinated disguise, I wallop with winged men in a single soul Armed to the Teeth with inveterate tithes to eternal internments of poached and endangered gazettes

As growth older in wizened skin bets on epithets rather than epitaphs for rinsed peace and triumphant clefts we leap above in orbit of only the bellowing nether of blown tolls and untold souls aggregating the esoteric grasp of Alexandrian tomes

The denumeration of certainty is a carousel of wonder, a splurge of time ripped asunder with majesties of paparazzi scuttled impacts a throttled iniquity of regalia’s indicted blunder frenchified but still clean with inestimable sheens

With twenty-five dollars, a dime an assist and a nickeled reiteration of currency already so personable it is divine and sublime in crazed desist I watch the embroiled natives clash in denatured violence with the warriors of a crossed repast hearkening to an old land much of ire but too much of grandstand to ultimately last

Itching for a holy field husk of peerless ties listed as rumpus and beer, a two-packed smoked by bludgeoned blokes careless in irascible sputters of a muffled doom, a Vegan becomes the author of too many sacrosanct homilies becoming defiled witchcraft brooms dead on arrival too many lionized tombs

In plaudits and the scause of an amplified “what if?” of an olfactory nightmare of petrified fog of effluvium bogged in Wade and in heat it is always clogged, sinewy libations of toasted preemptive revenge become a powerballed hog

A castle in the sky founded on Franklin but scourged of wineskins brimming with a distilled time, a swift repartee becomes the whispered ladder of saints blather becoming not rather other than a Dan Rather spatter

A door breeched by a broached inconvenience of amphigory beyond common reach, I clamber excess and whisk the lingered love into destiny beyond any word other than a beseeched preach of nothing tired but everything inspired of noble love with abundance often to teach

Fireworks of turned tides of fallow tithes to aliens beyond any conceivable bribe the bushwhacker writhes but survives Stayin' Alive without even a hint of garbled jive a 27th floor glass elevator is quite a resplendent ride

Wellsprings knowing radical rolled tides of errant dice also themselves guilty of confessional tithes to the monolith of avarice at the nooked cranny of an evaporated time we whine as the police sting the album rained with songs too lugubrious to sing but in their elegy every lonely heart has a propinquity phone of souled resonance ring

Iterative mastery of a mathematics of love, loss decay and the dross of a dental Occidental floss, the sweep of screened queues become questions of inestimable importance to foreign dues on A Horse With No Name but so consumed with fumes

A fright occultist Thriller prowls in a waylaying daylight, masquerading an innocent confection for a rescued triage of a dawn stabbed with knives in our last dying days of trembled plight

He resurrects only the wraiths of detest, squinted at by the putrefaction of summoned cardiac arrest and littered with bullets that somehow can penetrate even impregnable bullet proof vests the wrapped carcass of the mummified husk of ready despair offers itself a ghoulish and raspy prayer

Synchronized in a low roaring swathe of rollercoasters too immersive to ride, the terpsichorean obscurantism of deliberately shattered fragments becoming blurbs dismissed with hijacked deride the carnival of a summer sun becomes the ocean of limitless love becoming endless fun

We forget the drawl of the droll old tales that haunt like specters in the closet and beneath the bedridden valetudinarian of an effrontery of shackled fright, we sprawl the innumerable caverns of prophetic insight afforded by the pantheon of history enter stage left, depart stage right

And with their insight I write and write, I grasp the tusk of democracy and wage an insurrection against the doubt of plodding limitations in otherwise immaculate sight

*** and tyrannosaurus rex, of litigable offenses leading to pardonable arrests, the gated entryway of a poetic splurge leads to the demiurge of a demotic enlightenment and suddenly the frank becomes the frazzled retirement and that haunting hounding bunny transmogrified by a shattered eye averts the car crash that careens ponderous engines out of limitless twilight blue skies.

Diamond lightning in pristine skies escorts the telegraphic totems of riddled modems from distant forbearance to nescient ultimatum and suddenly all venerable personages converge on a teeming scene of a union unified by a universal dream. To become everything and yet nothing and out of light and darkness to become a beatific beam

I'm the flight attended and this plane is going down!!!!!.....
No control....
Because of Pilot Jones....
We hitting homes...
Bout to crash and burn...
If I only learned to fly...
I guess death is the lesson learned...

My Mom took me to the casino to gamble with her money.
Played video poker and roulette, and very well could have
just lit $80 on fire.
The casino was my Vietnam.
We sit down and order sodas from a machine
called "Fairies of the Forest".
No intention or idea how to play it.
Put in $20.
Press a couple buttons.
Won $140.
I think the laws of physics break down
under that ceiling.
Like Alice in Wonderland on acid...
or would it be more acid?

Una kitang narinig
Pero iba pala kapag naririnig at nasisilayan
Alam mo bang nakakakilig
Kahit yung kinakanta mo ay tungkol sa lokohan, kabiguan o kalungkutan

Ewan ko kung napansin mo akong tulala sayo
Habang kumakanta ka at may kaunting pangiti ngiti
Tignan mo gumawa ako ng tula para sayo
At yung puso ko tuloy palihim na tili ng tili

Pagkauwi ko galing sa Sev's Cafe
Di ko pa din malimutan yung oras na magpapapicture ako sayo
Muntik na akong di makagalaw at sumigaw ng mayday! mayday!
Nang sabihin **** "teka maglugay muna ako"

Hayaan mo na yung mga taong nasa kanta **** PAWS
Kung sakin lang araw araw ka sanang may rose
Lumipad man yung isa sayo palayo
Tayo naman ay tatakbo at lilibutin ang mundo

Pag nagkita tayo ulet ang sasabihin ko ay Hi Crush!
Kaya lang yung pisngi mo kaya ay mag blush?
Sabayan mo sana itong gusto kong kantahin
Mejo nirevise ko yung favorite part mo sa antukin

Eto na

Sasalubungin natin ang kinabukasan
Ng walang takot at pangamba
Tadhana'y merong tip na makapangyarihan
Kung ayaw may dahilan
Gusto kita kaya ginawan ng paraan

My Frankenstein monster*
erects in the dense night
a soliloquies of remedies
traced on pasted wall paper

It bids faster as the kites fly
high above the Himalayan
feeding respect to the sun
to radiate its vector rays

It whispers of this world
a spice of colours and patterns
a windy dainty silky road
wrapped with satanic ribbons

As the masses gather on the poles
to dance the mayday festival
the pagan gods shake the monster
their gold merry as the cloud chills

The bonfire embers and trembles
the palates vanish in the ashy wind
the crowds grow in bonded unity
*the monster smiles in rhymed terms

Slowly but surely, the earth is dying
Landslides and earthquakes
Tsunamis and hurricanes
Summer heat all year round
Like a mid-summer nightmare

Yet
Those are not the real killers
Bomblasts and homicides
Crimes of color, religion
A life for more lives
Alive to take more lives
Not one day gone without an unnecessary death

Slowly but surely, the earth is dead
Buried in the same hope that was meant to save us
Religion and it's diversities; Science and it's ideologies More harm than good
And knowledge is the ****** weapon
Now we are bristling at the seams of the end
Weaving as if we didn't know, our very demise
Deeply obsessed with such sad irony
The saved don't want to be saved
They want to go to heaven
But for the unbeliever, anything goes
Let nature take its cause
Indeed, we are nature's beings, but
We have overwhelmed it
With our incessant addiction to hope
Never believe the news
It's much worse than it looks
But not all is lost; the red could save us all
Join the movement
Mayday Mars

*****, I’m still deft like a leopard;
Repping these streets,
Still chasing da paper
Quick wit the maths,
SoCal’d-rap c u lator
Innovative & faded,
I drink it straight up, no chaser

Backw(ar/oo)ds I’m facing
I’m trippin’ my laces
Inhaling clouds of a thousand lit vapors
Sowing my seeds,
Young man he ain’t got no patience
Be wading my way
Thru a crowd of y'all haters

Insane bro,
How they still don't know my name
Money and fame
I scream while I slang,
It's lame
And I can't move my feet,
my knees are weak
Padlocked to my mafkin’ seat
Yeet YEET

****** around and popped some molly,
U know I be boolin’
Wit a couple of y’all thotties
My Impala’s no ‘Rari
I’m not saying sorry,
***** I got no money
My Mom’s where my house be

I see you sneak dissin’
Just gonna squeeze this in
I’m a heathen and I mean it
~Ope please excuse the dopeness,
I’m just wokest with the flow dontcha know it?
Best have some hands to throw 4sho,
Unless u glow wit it

If I had as much love
As I had **** in my pants,
I’d fill you up at the first glance,
Given the chance
Got u entranced,
We **** when we drance
I’ll show you London,
You show me France yeah

Suicide’s on my mind
Though I can’t seem to find
Motivation inside
I say I wanna try
But I’m wasting my time
Just want some good vibes
Hmu if you find em?

Said I'm havoc wit astounding clout
Blow clouds spit them fractals wow
shifting shapes, him prismatic now
-I’m in another dimension
Guess I never questioned
the consequences
of my pathetic aesthetic

Ya I wear a ****** mask
so you can’t see my pain
Tell me does it resonate,
Does that penetrate your brain?
Man everyday, it straight feel the ****** same
So let’s just vegetate
Now watch me steady levitate
I’m breaking loud,
Falling apart like towers to a plane
Flowers to a flame burning down,
Mayday, mayday
You melt the beams in my heart,
What can I ******’ say?
Catch me diving headfirst in them opposite lanes
Then my mind,
Gets flushed down the ******’ the drain
*****, if you ain’t a succubus
Get the **** up out my gravy train

I smoke big doinks
Gets my mind zoinked
To the point I’m anointed

All about the jinkies
When I'm smoking on that ******,
Take you to the movies,
Tryna feel up them *******
Finna get *****,
I’m no noobie wit a Hoop-D
Shoot my shot up in the *******,
When I hit her wit da roofie

That beat slap harder than a drunk stepfather
When you feeling up his daughter
Got some choppers in the locker,
-Steady mob but I’m a scholar
Now they droppin’ all these dollas
Got the armor to conjure
& conquer the darkest monsters
Hollerin at my partner,
Slobber on my whopper while I stomp em’
Noggin I’m finna clobber
Coldest shoulder on the mountain

My manhood hooked in the crook of ur nook
Y’all wanna tip toe but I don’t pussyfoot,
Wanna throw bows?
Tell ya *** not to look
Vibrate in the ****,
You could say that ***** was shook

Yeah my lines are blurry,
Insufflate blizzards in a fury
Digging where the sewage be
For all these ******* I am luring

Skewering all you limp *****,
Ripe for the barbequing
Cos I been roastin y'all ***,
This **** just ain't ****** new to me

Suckle on my Johnson just to savor the taste
That’s real cheese flavor,
Parmesan off the grate
Got some fries with that shake,
Know those thighs make me quake,
Great Value™ cellulite it’s processed Equate™!

Assassinate you with stealth
God's not gonna save you
When you’re screaming for help
Guns drawn, black lung,
***** I shoot from the belt
Dead-Eye in the sights,
Just need five perfect pelts
Gettin’ litty
Spend $50’s
Pet kitties
**** *******
On this niftier side of ******
while I acquire the wealth

Yo, I smoke a rello
To un-harsh my mellow,
Y’all yellow bellied fellows
Can’t reach my own level

Don’t like my rhymes?
You can fight me
Ignite whilst I smite thee,
From the sky
These bolts come to strike, see
Now I’m magically
Sporadic as lightning

Got Gucci on my zipper -
Throw me a bag, u kno I’ma flip her
Call me Jim Lahey, *****
Cuz’ I am the ******* liquor!
Gonna put on my slippers,
And rock you wit da dripper

In tha cut,
I’m tripping ****
Yuh rolling up that indica

This is
Almost all.

Cereal.
12 bites chocolate koala crispies
Chris along with some horizon
fat-free organic milk
but again 12 bytes.
Short stack flapjacks
Safeway maple syrup drenching it.

Patrick's IRA send it
One hot fudge sundae
from McDonald's
one half bite of hot fudge.
Six bytes of salsa recipe.
Four microwaved Chinese potstickers
Some HighC
orange lovers
I also ate Mark's soup

25 Cheetos
Xcessive?
I also ate some
of my accent.

One can Wolfgang Puck
used as a base
added some roasted
breast chopped
roughly 2 wings
scanner on onion
red rock refrigerator
did an onion
rings tile cut.

Think I know I'm
sorry sweetie
they are kind.

My husband went into the eye
Of nothing
No post card
No message from imigration
Ill send him my corn money
And peel mangos in chilli powder
With his daughter
Until mayday ends
Our stomachs lauphter
If he finds a way in again
Ill meet him at St Annes
Out side of the park
Under the oak shades.
If he finds a way in again
Ill promise to keep this family together
Eternaly.

While the huge Donald Trump
Propaganda machine keeps turning,
It's amazing how much ludicrous
Information we keep learning.

Despite proof to the contrary,
The Trump admin strives to maintain
That Russia DIDN'T meddle in our
Elections. The REAL culprit: Ukraine.

Here is what's so laughable
About the conspiracy theory they've peddled:
That helping Hilary Clinton was
Ukraine's reason for having meddled!

Trump's love affair with Putin
Astounds people worldwide.
How much power do they want?
How much are both of them trying to hide?

After receiving an invitation,
Trump remains undismayed
About the possibility of
Attending next year's May Day Parade.

So he'd sit next to Vladimir Putin--
The powerful Russian tyrant--plus,
Putin would proudly parade the weapons
He'd use against our allies and us.

-by Bob B (11-9-19)

Payday to payday
Is there any other way?
I’d call out a mayday
But what would I say?
I’ll pay it back someday?
But there is no way.
The outlook is gray.
Nothing saved for a rainy day.

Coins jingling in the pocket
Paper money makes no sound.
The coins are pennies and a dime
That I just found on the ground.
Some days my nest-egg can
Be counted as just a few cents.
I have grown used to living without
Much of a sense of recompense.

Payday to payday
Is there any other way?
I’d call out a mayday
But what would I say?
I’ll pay it back someday?
But there is no way.
The outlook is gray.
Nothing saved for a rainy day.

Nothing like any kind of income
About which I can easily brag.
No shiny stuff, never any bling.
No limo, no Rolex, no swag.
Though I did once dream of
Living in a ritzy sprawling place,
That kind of daydreaming is
For someone who won the race.

Payday to payday
Is there any other way?
I’d call out a mayday
But what would I say?
I’ll pay it back someday?
But there is no way.
The outlook is gray.
Nothing saved for a rainy day.

It’s often called The Rat Race
But I have a problem with that.
I saw a whole lot of fat cats
But I never saw even one rat.
I think it’s better to call them
What they actually happen to be.
They’re hard workers, underpaid.
They’re the working class, they’re me.

Mayday: two came to field in such wise :
'A daisied mead', each said to each,
So were they one; so sought they couch,
Across barbed stile, through flocked brown cows.

'No pitchforked farmer, please,' she said;
'May cockcrow guard us safe,' said he;
By blackthorn thicket, flower spray
They pitched their coats, come to green bed.

Below: a fen where water stood;
Aslant: their hill of stinging nettle;
Then, honor-bound, mute grazing cattle;
Above: leaf-wraithed white air, white cloud.

All afternoon these lovers lay
Until the sun turned pale from warm,
Until sweet wind changed tune, blew harm :
Cruel nettles stung her angles raw.

Rueful, most vexed, that tender skin
Should accept so fell a wound,
He stamped and cracked stalks to the ground
Which had caused his dear girl pain.

Now he goes from his rightful road
And, under honor, will depart;
While she stands burning, venom-girt,
In wait for sharper smart to fade.

Hey, say, do you like to play?
I loved to play, until that day.
The sky was dim, and there stood him.
The man who'd skim across my skin.
I falter of this 'hope' raft, "bye bye" I say, while away it draft.
I hold this shaft. my finding? I so daft.
I tremble thee, I, fallen angel, falling from heaven is painful.
My sanity is stable. My sanity is stable. My sanity is stable, would be quite the fable.
"That's just life" they say, but that makes me question why we stay.
"Mayday!" I note, "mayday!" My self-pity finally has gone and lead me astray.
I've become the cat-dog rain, screaming "save me," grain by grain.
I shall continue to abstain, until I prove, I'm now insane.

tootsie pops, pop rocks, rock candy
sweet tarts, smelly farts, war-heads, sour patch kids
reeses pieces, reeses stix, snickers lickers
fudge pile, chocolate smile, peanut butter bile, sugary style
baby ruths, almond joys, soy bean sauce, creamy steam
ill give u a payday, mayday, hay tastes good with parfai
milkyways stay gay to play games with sunrays
icing splicing with knife dicing
makes cakes, cook steaks, rumcakes
****** sprinkles, rip van winkle, diddily dinkle
gummy worms, germs impregnate firm, permed urns
angel food, carrots, pineapple upsideways
fruits, *****, parachutes, scooters, jello shooters
goobers, corn on the cobbers,
veggie wedgies, pepper leppers, squash boxes,
fry foxes, fleet rocks', carrot tops',
dishes of fishes,
witches brew platypus and fat kush
pushy slushies riding skateboards on gary busy
fussy hussies getting blushy about cussies
cereal made of creoles, bread straight from dreads,
rice is nice with spice, yeast is beast,
last but not least, wheat is a treat,
kiwis, shmiwis, dodos on go phones, starfruits,
bartlejuice, grape drank, sushi stinks.
ill eat anything.

please don't
tell me
that i'm
dreaming
all i ever wanted was to
dream another sunset with you

if i
roll over
when it's
over
i'll take this cali sunrise with me
and wake up with the fondest memories

Verse 1:
Spending a million days chilling like a baller, but I’m still a bachelor,
I’m the master *****, the funk villian,
Killing these ill feelings, like a *******.
Call me Captain Picard, galaxy speeding.
Bumping to tunes, in my Lincoln Navigator.
Living fate with taro cards, ***** bussing.
Cussing out haters, phonies is paper weight.
Knock ‘em out, let me demonstrate.

Verse 2:
Demonstrating, how to knock ‘em out,
These paperweight phonies, and haters imma cuss em out.
Buss em ****, using taro cards, living out fate,
Navigating while linking my tunes, to start bumping.
Speeding through galaxies, like Captain Picard.
I’m a *******, feelings so ill I could ****.
Got that villain funk, ******* call me master.
Balling like a bachelor, just chilling each day spending millions.

Verse 3:
Game has changed, so has the times.
Instead of writing rhymes, peoples is snorting em.
Deranged turn coats full of phlegm.
Instead of pronouncing vowels, they’s mumbling.
Music has become the chum bucket,
With occasional golden gems.
Shout out Denzel, Joey, Johnson, kaan, and Williams.
And I’ll be ****** like a John ham mad man,
If I start shooting up drugs and end up in neverland.
Flying, off the handle, like a dysfunctional Peter Pan.

Verse 4:
I’ve seen dysfunctional Peter’s, plan not pan out,
So, many times they’s handles have fallen off.
Going off to neverland, because them drugs shoot ‘em up.
**** man these kids madder than John Ham.
Why can’t they be more creative like, Williams, kaan, Johnson, Joey, and Denzel man?
I guess not every gems golden,
Like expecting a bucket of chum producing good music.
With many mumbling vowels, bet they can’t even pronounce phlegm.
Fulls coats turned red, feel betrayed, because the sounds turned deranged.
With rappers snorting lines, instead of writing them.
I guess the times has changed, and I guess so too must the game.

Verse 5:
Asked to choose between a beemer, Benz, or Bentley.
All the same when I’m drinking henny on the highway.
Swerving on them fools, than repent on Sunday.
Attempting not to catch a fine, at least till payday.
Spiralling downhill, mayday mayday.
Declining like the popularity of Spyro.
My internal plains a pyro, La lumbre, lumbre.
Think I need a vk, chilling in the jungle with dk.

Verse 6:
Go bananas in the jungle like Dk,
Just swinging, chilling, relaxing like it’s a vk.
Dancing with La lumbre, lumbre,
No fly zone during the eternal pyro.
**** popularity, imma burn down this ***** like I’m Spyro.
Imma never decline someone screaming, mayday, mayday.
If I did I know that would be a downhill spiral.
Where payday just another day,
But I pretend things are fine,
Attempting smiles, whilst receiving a sundae.
Only fools repent, can’t swerve me compadre.
Doing things my way,
Getting drunk and high,
Addictions are all the same.
Numbing the pain, by paying for fancy cars like Bentley’s, Benz’s, and beemers.
Because to choose between would be insane.

talking exhaust writing, talking leaves no impetus to write,
talking is like staring into a closet or a boiler room,
there are fumes of missed chances, or of shadowy skeletons
asking for a revision of the social etiquette no made:
what is the quasi-dialectics modern society prescribes
nudging in a lie with a lie followed by another lie?
whatever the defining term, it only prescribes a loss of furthering
discussion, empowering this etiquette with solipsism;
or there this overly psychologised parent thesis,
this morbidity of the lost beauty of language, fixated
on guarantees of never being undermined - it stinks of
excluding all other uses of language, or it simply tries to
incorporate them under the banner that history, poetry, philosophy,
physics can be psychologised into one affordable use of language,
which is why when i write psychological words i am greatly pained,
e.g.:

a bit like probing someone’s subconscious for a quick
memory stimulant: in a shop two friends
passed the isles,
the music shop was blasting creedence clearwater revival...
with the song cotton fields being used
as the adequate prop for the experiment...
when i was a little bitty baby
my mama would rock me in the cradle,
in them old cotton fields back home;
it was down in louisiana
just about a mile from texarkana,
in them old cotton fields back home -*
buzzing, looking for dvds of gone girl and some science fiction
movie...
the music in the background wasn’t discussed...
but the revival of the vinyls in a corner was admired...
34 quid for the beatles’ white album... *******...
and cornershops’ brimful of asha lazy instrument at 70£...
then some tea and café awkward flirtation...
then to the pub!
two pints down the gob and the quizzical stutter gone...
the sort that means you thought for very long
and didn’t speak to someone for a long time...
nerves of caffeine and nicotine with the boogie wagon...
so yeah... prodding memory in the subconscious
as short-term, meaning long-term in the waking hour defines
the personality among other faculties of the membered brain,
whether that’s liver, kidney or lung... the brain troops
them into the body on the northern korean march sport of the army...
some say the chinese will come with a pigeon or a crane strut...
no geese in pseudo-hindu affiliations of order...
memory and the third party from sleep to wake?
how many dreams could you actually remember with the alarm clock ringing?
about none...
i wake without the alarm clock... and when waking i have a strange
dream in the 5 minutes of the snooze button imaginarily pressed...
the general anaesthetic isn’t death... because under general anaesthetic
you don’t actually dream... it’s chemical not even remotely natural.
so that part where i exclaimed: to the pub!
some landscapist on the wall with full biography lamenting
the curses of the french revolution and how the aristocracy suffered
with the new aristocracy of the newly rich... the merchants
the shoelace tiers... the cobblers and the chieftains of the cooking ***,
‘yeah, chicken hearts in onion sauce have the consistency of squid rings,’
and so... in the olden thou art a battered beetroot cheek...
this landscapist wrote four clauses about ol’ *** village known today
as gidea park... he swore that he noticed chalky graffiti
of vituperativeness... he said: no chore of violence was revealed,
since the graffiti was sworn as an oath to dig into the coal mines of melancholic bile
and simply vandalise the new aristocrats’ possessions
with words of cursing chiseled in by chalk, of the newly rich
who never passed their gains through blood but rather through molten iron or sporty leather - but you know what they say:
the merchant of mecca dies... the blood heirs become assassinated
and the four caliphs (the rashidun) emerge.
only poets have the courage to return to the beginnings
of language acquisition - they dare to mishandle language
and by mishandling it dare to usurp prosaic grammar structures,
only poets have the courage to return to the beginnings
of language acquisition, singing the alphabet:
a b c d e f g... h i j... k... el em en l o p... q r s... t u v... w x blah blah z (
with a quasi incy wincy spider timing).
that's what i mean! i hate psychologism and psychological
words in general, they literally domineer people,
it's like the jungian theory of the collective unconscious...
it's like we're supposed to remember the archetypes...
but the unconscious has no memory-content...
given the fact that the unconscious is pure imagination...
since we dream... i don't know how we remember dreams...
but it's hardly in our sleep but upon waking...
a thin red line though... 'tshh... mayday mayday...
boeing 747 flight no. 209zt is going to crash...
black box on the ready, over and out... tshh,'
unless the memory function in the unconscious is to
remember the image sequence that are dreams
upon waking... thin red line though...
oh no... how did i get tangled in this psychology *******
once again?!
unwind! i walked home in the cool autumn
wearing just a shirt...
down a very english road of haunted houses of satiated
materialism... the colour patterns of flowers
still not stampeded by winter in blush violet and indigo...
amorous chequers of flamingos and oranges...
and the sunset with a 10 - 1 bet against it...
with the moon just behind the corner of the sky
looming hazes of cloudy cider sky of the northern dark.

Tricky whimsical mistress calling cards in effort to ******* all the trades, did you make her hit list? Missed me, you cynical simple hypocrites the dodge got me the **** out of the way and struck mayday with swiftness. Quick kick me out of the prisons for shifty self lifting over barbara’s wired fences, I’m relentless and restless so lets just end this and forget this, I’m angry and after much less friendship than forensics. Automated autopsy for the auto industry, the death of a sales clerk who outta be the enemy but instead we celebrate his tendency to sell his soul for our ovendulgances, Over seven seas of wishy washy tidal waves, all for city crushing some for finding wives, most for breaking levis and I believe all for soaking your leviathan levi’s. Its cool, it only makes them look more vintage. Pay homage to home owners with gun holsters with loose ammo aimed at the abdomen who work there ***** off, to pay for rockets and not blasting off, the thinking cap is off and my gut instinct is locked and loaded up to the pistol pulling motion that my emotions are exploring. Pardon the Patron in my person, I’m all for derooting for the home team version of the underdog under pressure to understand the burden of playing for a chance to play again. Mission accomplished there’s nothing to accomplish, we’ve done it mr. president, now tell me when we can stop it. We’ve lost it, and got not a lot to show for it except some sweet, sea-foam green graffiti on top of your “vote for me” posters. Pose for the camera angle wrangle up your strangle-holds to warm you up, November’s getting cold. And not to be so impolitely impolitical its just unusual how much better I feel with I dissect the system and then die right there with em.
Tricky whimsical mistress distressed she heard from a witness  that some future mother died tonight he stayed inside she took to the SKIES and DOVE, depressed mode impressed himself when he’s alone, he voted for gravity to be the casualty as long as her light was shown. Sown into his baby blanket baby blank face wont take it as well as she did, and she did well. Nah, she did good. Its understood that understatements under estimate the estimated when thrown into a ratio of how far we have and backslash or can go. Oh ego in my hand hold, let go and eat ****, drop far below a parachute and pray for your landing to be tragic. Prisoners, prepare to loot the loose change when theres no more defenses, Cuz when Barbara goes down, as to do her wired fences. The noose hangs delicately on malevolence street across the corner from the coroners office where someone is staring at me, brutally. I pay homage to my hostage holding home-owner hiding the hypocracy of hissing out a nice try. and roll over on the notion of note worthy nihilism he’s a nice guy but we don’t necessarily see eye to eye. Adrenaline you win again you sin sipping sack of lack of sobriety, Don’t cry to me when irony takes out the fight in me, I’ve got my synopsis, its so chaotic that everybody wins.

I don’t want to be alone
But only to be surrounded by a sea of ghosts.
Maybe I need some help.

I’m coughing up puddles of black stuff
And I feel like I’m covered in bees.
Maybe I need some help.

The January sky has a pallor.
The snow is ordinary and monotone.
I blend right in;
I’m a vacancy.. I’m the void.
I think I need some help.

I would fling myself at the feet of the appropriate person.
I just need to find the appropriate person.
Someone who isn’t dead inside per se,
But happens to have a similar hole in their heart.
And really we should be dead by now.
Really it should be over and it shouldn’t hurt.

You’re half gone.
Your resolve wavers like the tremble in your voice.
I’m in a free fall.
I’m plummeting through floors of hospital rooms
Trying to find your SELF.

Losing you half way feels like a funeral in small parts.
I wake up each day hoping I might get to see you again
And leave having grieved for another piece.

I don’t even know if you can hear me.
I don’t know who I’m asking for
Help.

Slowly, eventually but all at once,
I realize that I’m it.
I’m the help.

I’ll sweep up my spine and claw through the fog.
I’ll come out of my coma to wake you from yours
And maybe if I dig hard enough
I can put some of you back together.
Maybe there will be a reason for all of this.
There has to be a reason for all of this.

The tides have changed, they rise and fall,
Your ship is trapped inside the sea.
And although mayday is what you must call,
You hope it's answered by anyone but me.

This isn't your first time setting sail,
Holes remain in the bow from the past,
But where nature before would always fail,
The eye of the storm approaches fast.

Your crew has abandoned ship for shore,
Saving their necks as they watch you sink.
And instead of letting me help even the score,
You choose to drown holding the chain to link.

Red skies give sailors a double meaning,
A morning warning or night's delight.
But as your vessel begins careening,
Remember you chose to ignore the light.

I Blink 182 times,
Can I Handle This
This is the Sum of 41 reasons I won't smile this holiday
I'm feeling like I may Fall Out, Boy do I hate thinking about who's buying your presents this year.
It's weird how this holiday season is always a new All Time Low
**** this place. I would much rather Walk The Moon fixin for something that warms my heart again. So I hold it in my hands and breathe.
And I Imagine Dragons breathing fire onto my skin, maybe someone will call me hot.
Maybe Someone will Hear Me.
I sit on my Front Porch Step Aware of the Mayday Parade that marches down my spine and I forget how to walk.
How to talk
how to breathe as I Panic! At the disco music that you seem to really like.
You are memories of a ride in a Death Cab
For Cutie I Will Follow You Into The Dark.
If I'm not already there.
And I will Parachute into Owl City and lie in your bed that is a Passion Pit.
It entramps me and keeps me hostage and I hate what your sheets feel like.
You make me think that love is Of Monsters and Men and that women don't feel that word.
You have killed me a thousand times,
Queen
of ******* over the things I have planned.
We are My Chemical Romance a toxic ******* life threatining carcinogen trying to **** me.
But this is Kinda Punkish I Guess and again I have my playlist.
That sounds like you but it saves me and doesn't **** me.
Here's a Simple Plan this holiday. Leave me the **** alone this year.

Mayday, mayday our plane has crashed
the strings that tied us together have been clipped.
There is no further flight in this troubled sky,
Barren fields around every corner,
"There are no further grounds for negotiation"
Realize that we are scrambling ferociously to meet the same ends,
So instead why can't we all just be - friends.