Desperado Dan
Is a man with a plan
To cash in a bit of Kensington
On some high grade *****
Cos right now he's got a couple of scores
But not a great deal more to loose

You see, our Dan is a master of the modern day quill
He works an open office, clocking in and out at will
But after reading all the greats from his and every bygone age
He lives in a time where the mp3 subverts the written page

So night and day he hums away
Searching for that hit chorus
And he knows you can't cut corners
When it comes to tanking up on creative juices

A Desperado is larger beer spiked with tequila
Some say it's for scoundrels to make charming girls easier
But our Dan's quest is noble.
He has a dream we'd all like to believe in
He simply wants to do his whole life’s work in just one evening
And a Desperado seems to conjure all six hats within one head
So if two minds are better than one...well, nuff said

He dilutes them at first, pulling the wool over his own eyes
Until, catching reflections on the glass, he sees through the disguise.
And before long you'll find him chugging straight from the bottle
Then, in a blur of paper and pen, Dan writes like there's no tomorrow.

He writes and writes and writes some more
a couplet, a bridge, an underscore
Ploughing verses like trenches through the ****** white paper
Dropping napalms just to see what pops it's head above the wreckage.

Then, surveying the new landscape, he quarries in every direction…

Linearly; because it's most straightforward like that
Circularly; because they used to think the world was flat

Logically; because... Well duh!
Laterally; which gives the brain a stir

Diagonally; some kinda a + b = c rap from back in the day
In reverse; because sometimes we unknowingly face the wrong way

Unapologetically
Down dead ends
Just to see the view

He picks up clichés and looks under them for clues

Desperado Dan
Calls for desperate measures
As the evening wears on
He indulges all his earthly pleasures

And down they go with a Yo ** **
What a ***** desperado!
***** I say! Now he's mixing with ***
Still his pencil flies with a blistered thumb

'E starts to drop 'is H's
And forgets to cross his l's...sorry t's
He paces back and forwards
An he talks like mushy peas

Rummaging frantically through chaotic pockets
Conjunctives falling to the floor
He can't find the word he's after, but who cares? There’s plenty more!
He begins to vengefully split infinitives in two
And hurl metaphors across the kitchen
Sending mountains of ******* up ***** of paper flying
Like snowballs after the thaw
Which slowly melt into puddles of lonely vowels and consonants.
Long after he has gone.

----------------------------------------------------------­---------------------------------

But all that was before the "Doodley Dee"
And his dream came true with a change of key
The song which people can't help to hum
From OAPs to the I-generation
And people hummed it all over
And in all sorts of weather
Until someone decided we should hum it forever.
And they paid Desperado Dan for every hum
Not bad work for a blistered thumb

So now our Dan seems a lot less desperate.
From time to time he evens finds an hour or two to rest a bit
Sitting on the veranda of his studio in the south of France.
Applying the finishing touches to another comedy romance.
Sipping a very fine Sauvignon, no Desperado in sight.

They're all safely packed away in the cellar

Just in case he gets the urge

Late at night.

This is the finale, this is the conclusion to my brooding views for this classy interlude. Just to let you know that i'll be coming back with another series for yawl to bump to, out with the old, in with the new, I'm just taking a break to figure out what I should do. Talked the talk, did the walk, did or said things that can't be undone or changed, this is what one must do so that the future can truly be rearranged. Call me whatever, call me whenever, complain about my songs, I don't care if you think they're as dreary as some really bad weather. I dedicated myself to tell things as they are, and I believe that through my rhymes that I have been putting out as of late that I have grown pretty far. I never belonged, always the kid alone and depressed, it's like I was internally and externally oppressed. Don't care how I dress, the only thing I address is the screwy ****** world that tries to play with our lives like chess. I confess that I make up half of the crap I say, but dang it all if I can be like burger king and have it my way.

I am blessed, yet such a mess, glory to those who can thrive even though they live with less. Don't know what to believe, but I will not be going back to being on my knees, light crushing darkness because I have found the keys. 50% straight edge, looking to get ahead, looking forward because if I look back I know I'll stay dead. Staining this white washed society red, longing for real democracy, even though right now it's just a imaginative dream I have in my head. Rebel won't let up, always want to get out, going crazy and vicious trying to find what this life is all about. If you can't seem to understand me, oh well, this is not show and tell, and if you don't like it you can go to hell. Oh I'm in my zone, so clear the way for I have a rap dynasty to adhere to, and I have no other way I can say it to make it clearer for you.

So many blurred lines trying to cover up the ugly truth, get carried away sometimes, but honestly I yearn for finding the truth. What if there is no truth, just some unexplainable conundrums that we shouldn't really question, I won't take that suggestion, there are answers to find, there are things that need correction and clarification. I hope that there is a reason why we exist, no trick or twists, I accept my duty and am prepared to take the risks. Classy Interlude pt.3, not going to take a knee and surrender the ball, third and long but I will give it everything that I have, **** right that i'll push through all these walls. Breaking barriers, yeah breaking stereotypes and statistics, proving all you crackers wrong who say that making a difference is unrealistic. I will not be stopped, staying firm like a rock, so back off , keep whacking off, i'll do me, should not have left the door unlocked. Through the times of greatness and travesty, i'll keep my vanity, don't shoot to **** because I still have an ounce of humanity. Though I struggle, though I go through boat loads of pain, I'll keep being sane, I won't let you get into my brain.

I know i will never be able to do this alone, I chose long ago to not just be another clone, so go ahead keep spying on me with your drones. I don't care, ***** the industry, I prefer having individuality, free land and speech, I have been unplugged so I guess that makes me a abnormality trying to fix this world's big cavity. ***** people man, I try being nice, but people are pests they no better than a bunch of lice. Stupid groupies that listen to white boys like vanilla ice, yeah ice, ice baby, you need Jesus Christ, don't know a thing about real rap, so no wonder that you can't handle my brooding sharp lines that have taken rap away like it were a heist. Have to break some eggs to make an omelette, no parley here mate, breaking in like a pirate, busting your heads like balloons, it's like I'm playing poppit. Stop this, now let me continue to rock this, I am my own boss bro, so in other words, you'll never ever be able to stop this.

Moving to the top, giving it everything I got, classy interlude pt.3 bro, so many shots, got you  starting to feel so tardy as an apricot. Just kidding, this is why you should be listening, I just got so much energy, if you think you can do better, your just day dreaming. Future class blasting into mainstream like hey, underground was fun but now I'm big and everyone wants to be with me and get shady, and I know that the only reason is that they want my gravy. I'm banking, tanking through obstacles, mine scraping through touchy subjects even though I don't care what I say about these tender debacles. I say what I want, not about to ride the offensive guidelines d*, bleep my words all you want but you can't make me disappear like some magic trick. Mr. Class himself, you just got to believe in me, trust that i'll keep busting, have faith that i'll never sell out and keep on hustling. So adieu for now, but i'll be back to venture into new beginnings with a bang bang, pow.

Bonafide catatonic doggedness,
nevertheless this stubborn stoic poet writ
afore and another feeble effort courtesy
exhaustive mental effort
he brewed den - brought about divine visit
analogously to solve mystery pinpointing
within suspense unveiling whodunnit.

Whereat your true
plane vanilla author's creativity
admittedly drastically did decline
bawling and crying
caterwauling putting any feline,
to shame, hence abandoned grandiose design,
cuz he suddenly contracted

(think fabricates)... what else
flesh eating bacteria unfavorable sign
finding me body stone cold supine
(courtesy brainstorm that went awry)
inducing purgatory nauseating
sensation to *****,
nope not at all feeling fine,

hence literary dream subsequently mine
ambition tanking (think
kamikaze nose diving
minus parachute life line),
sought spiritual guidance ministered
severe existential nihilist crisis
(an understatement)... zip,

absolute zero, and nein
never to witness, nor
restored vigor and vitality,
(sob... sob... sob) ha how asinine,
hence garden variety germane pine
wood coffin evidenced
resembling somber funereal yahrzeit

(/ˈyärˌtsīt,ˈyôr-/) recollecting late mother
helped beget kith and kin of mine,
than as now buzzfeeding appetites decline
possibly courtesy bloodily splattered
white laboratory coated
donned Victor Frankenstein
mister monster master's

repurposed cadaver delivers kosher eats
fancy feast grubhub groaning
outsize maître d' makes beeline,
nsync with anonymous canine,
corps speedier than any airline,
unbeknownst to yours truly posthumous
fame will inevitably yield moonshine.

Fast forward approximately
twelve hours later recuperated -
aide de camp resolved impasse with
partial writer's block slayed
attempting to continue quasi theme
i.e. avoid typing with fingers delayed,
albeit no matter unconscious

editing automatically peremptorily made
suppressing crude, fiery, ignominious tamed
loathsome offal rot earning F grade
securely unceremoniously waylaid
lurid outburst blandly diluted into staide
yawningly tedious figurative walled barricade,
when lo and behold atavistic beast erupts

fresh sortie attempts peppering enfilade
anew ideally unadulterated, unedited,
unexpurgated material ought be displayed
to allow, enable, and
provide raw emotional blackest shade
to resonate within mind
of unsuspecting reader,

who might take
objection with primitive grade
communication, and blatant
scathing writer somewhat afraid
to air unrefined sentiments
may cost popularity,
uncontested where cadre of

unseen followers thence evade
once popular rising star,
whose emergent fame
(even if only limited edition
to cyberspace) will fade,
yet methinks loosing
stream of consciousness obeyed

fealty on one metrical foot
metaphorically uncorking
deep seated primal angst laid
bare like bleached bones
existential crisis oft times
gussied up to avoid tirade,

whereby woke parlayed
gut wrenching splenetic self degrade
ding soul bearing vile eruption
considerably quieted, stoppered, tamped...
courtesy linkedin, symbiotic maid.

Tanking in the sea of fear
Pressure keeps building in the unknown
I need to see but the glasses are starting to crack
The water is piling on in
I’m dying from what I really needed
The ship is buried more then six feet
•
The salt baptizes me
I come out into a puddle
The worry in the shallow then follows
Hopefully a time is known to link to a start of a new star
Different days have new eyes laying, looking for any type of gray
They see a baby born into a new man
Drawing him in whatever kind of melee
•
But this baby boy dives into everything
The art and the color schemes he sees blew
Details are now seen even laying in the deep end
The pressure is building all around him
He might slip and crack everyone up
Heads are turning all around him
He finally sees red instead of the deep blues
Ignoring while criticizing, the jury lives all around him
Sun ignores the moon from my viewpoint
Has I light up my way, faces still blew me off the board
•
All while I’m playing yin yang with a soul
I see her eyes, I melt as if I’m in a super nova
A star has found its way into my universe
But the balance doesn’t carry a stance between them
All while these colors paint a little too vivid
These lines keep drawing me
I have to wait till never is happening
I spill the change I’m looking for
Picking pieces of me up to feel great
•
Paint My Mind

Played the game
Wasn't wanted on one team
They gave up a player
Who never got a chance
Then joined another team
That was welcoming and embraced
Finally he played that rival team
With his team they dominated
After so much doubt and rejection
The score felt settled brought balance
Use to take rejection pent up
All the frustration would implode
Took it moved on now it's better to speak up
Prove them wrong for once
Over all the talking others looking down
Many lies trying to tarnish self image
Felt good to take a stand with support
Use to tanking on the number
Learned it's best to walk away