I would much rather think of my style of writing as "Philosomancy" than as "Poetry",
I would much rather think of my Music as "Phonomancy" than as  "Music".

I think of myself as a Philosomancer rather than a Writer; perhaps a Writist.
Language is simply a mutual Medium for concepts; a means.
I think of myself as a Phonomancer rather than a Musician; perhaps a Musist.
Music is the name we call ordered sound; a means.

There is deeper Mythic significance to these things
than the mere words "Write" and "Music" lead on;
The Suffix of "-mancy" indicates a style of Divination;
a sort-of improvised Oracle.

Take, for instance,
Geomancy: Divination of Earth
Pyromancy: Divination of/by Fire
Astromancy: Divination by the Stars
Aquamancy: Divination of/by Water

By this pattern, it logically follows that:

Philosomancy: Divination of/through Ideas
Phonomancy: Divination of/by Sounds
-
Mythic Overtones are ubiquitous and implicit,
yet perception of them is more rare
due to cultural dissonance
'twixt Mythic and Logic.

Plus, Philosomancy and Phonomancy
sound so much more badass
than mere Writing and Music,
if I am to openly opine!

*(It really helps to have a sense of Humour, as well!)

Crystal ball mirror mirrors on the wall who's the flyest of them all's?
My bars stand tall y'all leaning like lisa cracked smiles
More foul than gomer Pyle could a run a thousand miles
Without breaking a sweat guns is flexed for stretching pecs
Inject the cold collect watch the checks cashed with ***
****** slouchers end up with ****** vouchers I'll stout ya
Statue stature before and after craft shed a beautiful blood baths
Paths of a golden wrath suckas loosing grips over halves
Sick with these bars G grouchy as oscar escapes like Escar
Stacks an empire underground Cae'sar none could par
Shadow of a super star ultimate words sticking like tar'
Zan jungle book bear clippin' necessities nipsy
Hustle til its a broken gristle since these cowards whistle
Morning birds chirps this ain't an excerpt lucid concert
Back in ya dreams stings like a controlled demon ring
Yo I'm a real man with methods bodies go red man
Once I wave the cannon fanning at ya church sanding
All these silly ***** knevil with the blunt pulling mad stunts
Checki itt!!?


All It took was a dollar and a dream visions of the unseen
Tunnel visions of green flashing over the braille peen
Activate the state of an insane grace stacks to a Chase
Manhattan chilling with villians records going platinum
**** an album freestyle drills til my women her legs feel
Vibration cultural sky crapping as the city vaping creating
An atmosphere don legend sitting here flows a comet spear
Disappear only to reappear mirage summer Minaj collage
Rhymes to beats hypes the freaks of a speech under the sheets
I'm hitting til it's goes soft get ya head out the guttas stutter
Hataz bring em back to the status of an incubator state a
Brother with the rawest tendency more mellows than Quincy
Jones alone I hold this mic like it's Solomons throne clones
Love to go for a jocking I'm socking the industry til it's popping
None stopping gotta keep it tight turn a ****-Neo leftist from an alt-right
Dangerous with these pedigrees ask Albert Pike
Sike awakening the dead with the stench of my spike
Verbal sorcery pyromancy who wanna chance me
I'm chilling like Tut golden snake hat with a raw batch
Choke the mics throat air out the smoke of fires wrote
Don't let the sleeping lion get poked only to provoke
An uproar ramping from city to city high voltage cranked energy
Check it!!!

Call me the tinman no hearts when I dump a cannon standing
Amongst the ****** corpse absorb the energy source
Sun tzu Genghis hassles make souls wrassles gat you
Got ya eyes stiff as a statue pat you bloods seeping
Through the eyes of a demon scheming no dreaming
Freddy Crueger counter part my darts cause sparks
Time fly space age zooming skies magnify evilness eyes
All on the innocent no repentance standing on Satan's Senate
Feel me though darkness lighted through candles scandals
Told let the pyromancy fold all of the trolls hidden scrolls
Of wisdom solomon controlled the spirit platforms art forms
Causing hell storms ***** of fire menace infinite desire
Words barbwire carves through liars squeeze minds to a plier
Strained thoughts frivolous moth broke from heavens cloth
Devil bounds hellhounds traveling on my tails holy grail
I sipped so let the fear of spells sail another story to tell
I'll never fail flippin' off the mental scale pain heavy as whales



Sacred rachets spit to a hachet religion impacted
Pacifist lyricist cycle rhymes to a crisp styles abyss
Deeper than ***** cant push me word to these *******
I gut you then reconstruct your body I'm cashew
Sick as the bird flu watch out for the hateocracy crew
Blades knives to brass knuckles smiles with no chuckles
So buckle ya belt leaving welts on ya membrane *******
Visionist certified idiot spilling and spinning drill bits
Holy use the swords of Michael envision suicidal
Thoughts swarming dark figures lurking the morning
Nothing but Ravens and crows at the front of ya door
Waiting for more excited the stories of war infused gore
Too ******* graphic as a Roman Catholic alcoholic
Drunk of the rhymes placed by father time Saturn
Retrace my patterns found an old whale oiled lantern
Invoke the pastures green mean take sips of the lean
Flask with no ski mask once I perform the task
Murders welded into the brains of the insane grains
Picked off the books of life stuck on strife my wife
Was dead born kin to the children of the corn adorn
By black flying creatures of the night standing height
Twenty feet or better sunshine but it's gloomy stormy weather

so now I say to you, my heart,
to the girl who burns,
you should never cross that mountain,
the one they built of skyscraping expectations for a child
now too grown for their chains,
built from dreams you did not dream.
you need only be enough for yourself.
as for that other peak
your pilgrimage in search of an
insurmountable love--
it is too early to foresee anything
in a sea so vast
and unpredictable.

and you have learned your lesson
with pyromancy. love should not burn too bright,
for eyes ablaze tend toward blindness, anyway.
your fingertips scorched hearts made of wood
too pliant, or too unyielding,
and thin branches that
could not sustain or stand
your vibrant flame.

you once believed in no one and nothing,
lost in a landscape of eternal fog.
“they always leave, little bird”, you said once,
and you have every right to be afraid and look away--
but do not leave yourself either.
so, stay. linger for a while longer,
and wade through the vague, heavy gray.
a world of “what if” is a world of hope, too.

with iron resolve, then, rally yourself!
you have bloomed into a rose
lovely and fierce in your own right.
turn your well-worn eyes to the sea in the sky far above,
remember: the stars falter sometimes too.