Darling, he doesn't care about you
You're a fulltime fill-in until he finds someone better
And oh, when he breaks your heart?

I'll be front row.
Popcorn.
Ambiance.

Why would I ever consider consoling you?
You're trash.
G a r b a g e .
You look at me like you expect someone to care about your life.

Or does it bother you that I ignore your existence?
Does it make you sick? The worse you feel, the better I do.

Does that make me sound like a villain? Oh well. Every villain has some ****** depressing back-story.

I don't plan on informing you of mine. Just know, I've seen things you wouldn't last a day seeing.
I've ripped out my own heart to sew it back together.

**** with me.

Foundlings lament beneath their shrouds
For the Givers they never knew.
Shouts of terror, gone unheard, loud
And bright in the fright of selected few.

Shadows cast beneath sunlight's flags
Are trademarked captions made of stained silk.
They trod the daylit bog in dusty rags,
Secretly living, they and their ilk.

SpongeBob SquarePants is an American animated television series created by marine biologist and animator Stephen Hillenburg for Nickelodeon. The series chronicles the adventures and endeavors of the title character and his various friends in the fictional underwater city of Bikini Bottom. The series' popularity has made it a media franchise, as well as Nickelodeon network's highest rated show, and the most distributed property of MTV Networks. The media franchise has generated $8 billion in merchandising revenue for Nickelodeon.

Many of the ideas for the series originated in an unpublished, educational comic book titled The Intertidal Zone, which Hillenburg created in the mid-1980s. He began developing SpongeBob SquarePants into a television series in 1996 upon the cancellation of Rocko's Modern Life, and turned to Tom Kenny, who had worked with him on that series, to voice the titular character. SpongeBob was originally to be named SpongeBoy, and the series was to be called SpongeBoy Ahoy!, but these were changed, as the name was already trademarked.

The series was previewed on Nickelodeon in the United States on May 1, 1999, following the television airing of the 1999 Kids' Choice Awards, and officially premiered on July 17, 1999. It has received worldwide critical acclaim since its premiere and gained enormous popularity by its second season. The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie, a feature-length film adaptation, was released in theaters on November 19, 2004, and a sequel is currently in production, with a projected release date of February 13, 2015. On July 21, 2012, the series was renewed and aired its ninth season, beginning with the episode "Extreme Spots".[2][3]

Despite its widespread popularity, the series has been involved in several public controversies, including one centered around speculation over SpongeBob SquarePants' intended ****** orientation. The series has been nominated for a variety of different awards, including 17 Annie Awards (with six wins), 17 Golden Reel Awards (with eight wins), 15 Emmy Awards (with one win), 13 Kids' Choice Awards (with 12 wins), and four BAFTA Children's Awards (with two wins). In 2011, a newly described species of mushroom, Spongiforma squarepantsii, was named after the cartoon's title character.

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At any given moment, it seems there is a fashion week happening somewhere in the world - be it Sydney, Istanbul, Dubai, Seoul, Moscow, Toronto, Copenhagen or Lagos (to name a few).

But the latest entrant may be the most surprising: Silicon Valley.

Or, as the organisers style it: Silicon Valley Fashion Week?!.

The punctuation marks as part of the title are a self-aware nod to the incongruity of marrying the location, known for its allegiance to hoodies, Tevas and T-shirts, to a fashion event.

But that does not mean they are any less serious about its potential.

The three-day annual event, which finished its second turn over the weekend in San Francisco, bills itself as "part fashion show, part variety show, part trade show" and is open to the public, unlike the usual fashion industry events. This year, about 30 brands were featured and tickets, at US$20 (S$28), sold out, with about 500 people attending each day.

It was staged by Betabrand, a San Francisco company that builds its clothing catalogue by crowdsourcing design ideas and, after seeing which take off, crowdfunding the production of the prototypes to see which ones people will actually want to buy. Examples include a "mind the gap" blouse that stretches to fit the body's contours and a dress that uses a trademarked reflective material.

The event exists at the nexus of Burning Man, wearable technology and the Maker Movement, home of inventors, designers and other do-it-yourself types. Pebble Smartwatch presented a Smarthole Hoodie, a standard hoodie design with sleeves that extend over the thumbs and have a movable panel around the wrist to make gaining access to the company's device easier; and Tinsel offered headphones that can be worn as a necklace.

Alison Lewis, who holds a design and technology master's degree from Parsons School of Design in New York, showed three items: a lambskin leather handbag embedded with LED bulbs that can be rearranged in different patterns with an app; a T-shirt that does the same; and a dress with lights that undulate with the wearer's heartbeat.

"Technology is a tool. It's how we use it that's really exciting," she said. "We could have less clothing in our closets and have pieces that change and work with our moods and personalities on a daily basis."

Lewis has not had a chance to present her work in other fashion shows and, so far, she has not been able to mass-produce her items. She commended the fashion week as a place to experiment.

She was not the only designer struggling with the challenge of manufacturing what she displayed.

However, as wearables increasingly enter mainstream fashion, with designers from Ralph Lauren to Zac Posen dipping their creative toes into technology, the idea of clothing patterns controlled by apps, of drone delivery, and of customisation that allows - maybe even asks - its wearers to make a choice each and every day, seems less far-fetched and more like fashion's possible future.

Which, unlikely as it may be, puts the Silicon Valley event on the style front line.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/backless-formal-dresses | http://www.marieaustralia.com/red-formal-dresses

I wish I hadn't wasted
the moments I ached for his hands around me
or the tickle of laughter
clawing at my throat
oh what I would have done
if his fingers
weren't riddled with ink
stamping my skin
till it was trademarked
and no longer mine

Altogether, the night we wove
a trickled treasure, tangled:
skirted legs spilling out from
the teacup of a denim lap,
validation in the vacuum cove.

- Dusty Nikes before the dusk,
who art in heaven, my god
he thrusts.

- Why'd your mother
let you talk that way:
You smoke cliche cigarettes
in such an unfamiliar way.

- The hanger left welts, weeping
into post-relevance landline love,
body lay like the hands on the clock,
copper landmarks seeping.

What a feeling, ever so same.
Arched eyebrows, a trademarked shame:
like a fighter, like ****** oozing.
Like a functional inability,
divine in its losing.

I want poetry to break out of it's underground cave
Break out of the solitary lonely, locked cage.


I want my poetry to be capable of inspiring change
I want to illustrate beauty in a verse beautifully maimed
I want to communicate the tender sudden pulse of a surface wound
I want my poetry to be blueprints for change, in the world, or a room
I want to connect the universal nerve of tremors and feelings
I want to connect wires and vessels, shifting cells and ceilings
I want to broadcast this current human condition,
Rewiring like a revolutionary electrician
I want to transcend my, and next time,
With my poems added to anthologies
And each of their lines
Being recited by literary scholars and dedicated readers


But I have accepted some poets are popular during their lifetimes
Like Alice Cary, and Maya Angelou
With acknowledged, renowned, printed
Published Stanzas, and lines.
I want to at the very least, be one of those who guard a hidden, folded..
[Rather than outdated, infamous, tattered and broken]
..genuis.
Or maybe an answer to some past hanging question
Found in the very letters in my words to
The trademarked inflection
Breathing a bashful verse that grew in this universe
Or the next
To strengthen roots of the beauty of language
The older, the wiser, the more interpreted complex
Not the unknown but claimed roots of American poetry
And some
May close the **** kindle. Or rip out the last page.
After I die, I might return with bones live with rage.


Because if nothing has happened, I will continue to say:
I want my poetry to be capable of inspiring change.


Because we are destroying a world we should be killing fighting to save.
(Hopefully this shan't be said again from a grave.)
Each person who has read solely to write one more page
Take your weapons, inspire, engage
None can lay bricks until a clear path is paved.

iii.viii.xii

You, you are a
Thermodynamic
Buoyant
Force
******* like the
single-minded
Octopus
that takes and takes
Strong energy,
mild energy
Inhales the organically-grown
Petals
of all flowers, regardless
Good intentions.
that sure is nice
What humility,
Artificial
Plastic
Egotistical
Manufactured
Trademarked
Birthed  
Regurgitated
and
too thoughtfully acted by
You.
But I see it.
You have
not landed.
The world needs your
footprint but
it does not need your self-indulged
hunger.
Be humble.
Your success is not
marked if
You are not humble.
Keep your tentacles
in your depths and
Be
Poised
Poised you seem to be and success is your process but
Humility is my truth.
We float on
neighboring clouds of
public service
that have not the same hue.
Take a step back.
I see you mean
No harm
like a dinosaur with no arms
Good intentions.
Take a step back.
You desire to envelop others yet
You do so
so
mindlessly
I see it.
Let your brain rest from the throne.
the world does not serve you
It serves nothing
and no one as
We are all lucky.
You say that you’re lucky
For all
to hear
just to endear
And that is the problem
My dear, be poised.
Publicize your life for
documentation?
No
Take a step back.
We need your
love
compassion
independence
ambition
Real
not fake.
Transform this and
Good intentions.
The world is not yours
You walk on its leaf
and repeated, recycled
identities
Take a step back.
The world is not yours.


Cameron Bell, Copyright © 2019

I do not lack for intimacy, real and touching.
Perhaps, so blessed, I reach out to those in need
To those semi-known, but never met, never realized.

Perhaps, so disfigured by experience,
Compelled, self-commanded, self-anointed,
I venture to parts and people unknown,
With all that I have, my only possession,
Words of comfort, which is my trademarked craft,
And my true purpose... Here on earth.

But when entreaties refused, misunderstood,
Rejected, I am stunned by the hurt, the rejection,
Which makes one tired in ways that
Shock.

How allowed, who gave me permission
To increase my vulnerability to one more, only
Imagined, only Internet real...
This foolish tirade, in words, my stock and trade,
The only way to expiate my grief
For caring,

I Am that I Am

My instincts good, I will continue.
Disregard the brain, regard only the
Need,

To Be Who I Be.

originality is dead and i killed all the artists
i thought my words were my own but i am getting pretty tired of dollar store versions of my own suffering
imitation is the sincerest form of flattery but what am i supposed to do when i can't differentiate between sincerity and someone who is going to spit my words back in my face

On A Calm Autumn Night


Sitting and watching stars on a calm Autumn night
Viewing the celestial stars with you in my sight
this evening is all I have left of you my dear
within the deepest recesses of my mind here

all the beauty on this calm Autumn night with you
takes be back in time as we danced ‘neath the stars
we stared into each –other’s eyes with love so true
on a calm Autumn night our hearts sang loud and far

We both stayed up all night and watched the cosmic rays
while the rays turned into the dancing northern lights
we both vowed to appreciate our earth each day
we sit and watch the stars on any given night

on a calm Autumn night, we will cherish all lands
and earth; God gave us with love in my heart and hands

Written and © and Trademarked on 06/05/2017

I treasure those eyes the best, so lovely each night. Long lashes fluttering with your trademarked twisted elegance. I trace your skinny hips and kiss your scarlet  lips, we lay  close and and whisper across the quiet divide. I sit  inhaling smoke and exhaling pretty words that roll off the tip of my tongue, sliding down the floor boards. Drinking, spinning in sickly sweet light. I can tell  them, always trusting the people I meet, dancing to the sweet spot. Wicked am I, missing the saunter of those long lovely  legs. Trapped a loop of taunting, teasing laughter. We all talk crazy, tangled and comfortable in each others hair, this is the closest to perfection I've ever been.

My heart it feels, the scar tissue form
The engraving of TM, forever trademark
The light in my soul goes out
It will remain, forever dark

So broken down, I finally know true pain
For it showers me, like the May rain
You brought me up, and threw me down
Hope I can swim, or in my tears I'll drown

So I hope your happy, and you can get by with ease
For my trademarked heart, will always tease
For you I'd stay sober, except for tonight
This ***** in me, will erase the scar tissue, out of sight

Down the rabbit hole I go
Trademarked by Acme and the warnerbrothers
I put it there myself to see where it would take me
Thrown down in the middle of dinner parties
Slapped on to a stranger's windshield
Pulling it out it feels rubbery and flimsy
The only way I've ever known my reality to be
Walking on the other side of the sidewalk
In an attempt to avoid the pianos that might fall on my head
****** features exaggerated with expressions of valor or dismay
Hearts surrounding the dogs sniffing each other
Can they see it too?
Sometimes the forget me nots blow kisses as if everyone are their lovers
their little blue pedals waving or curling in and out from the garden
mom's a little clumsy and there's always at least a single star spinning above her head
It's always been this way
A spoonful of sugar was never enough to make the medicine go down

Ports 1961 just announced their company’s collaboration with iconic sportswear and boxing brand Everlast, made famous by the world’s greatest boxers and actors. The collection is now available in stores and on farfetch.com. Milan Vukmirovic, menswear creative director, has revived his Everlast classics such as the “Rocky” hoodie and other essentials. They are all adorned with a trademarked star camouflage motif. Unveiled on the catwalk at the runway show that opened Milan Men’s Fashion Week, this collaboration is a tribute to the fighter inside us all.

A true highlight of the menswear collection, Ports 1961’s signature men’s bow sneaker was also a hit. Their bow sneaker features a distinctive suede bow on top instead of laces or more predictable fasteners. Each pair of bow sneakers is raw-cut, hand-stitched and hand-knotted to be uniquely distinctive to the wearer. As well as bow fasteners, the sneakers can also be opened and closed with a central zipper in the heel for convenience and ease of wearing. These sneakers are available in fabrics and shades to match this season’s garments in classic raw-cut suede and leather. For comfort and durability, they feature hardy rubber soles.

Fashion East Men’s presentation for autumn/winter ’17 offered a significant designer lineup. Fashion East, with the continued support of Topman, was excited to reveal a double billing of bright, emerging talent. Sponsored by London Fashion Week’s Menswear, the showcase featured up-and-coming designers Charles Jeffrey Loverboy, Feng Chen **** and Per Gotesson.

A Central St. Martin’s MA graduate, Jeffrey is an illustrator with a radically creative style. For his Loverboy label, his cast included artists, musicians and friends who stomped stylishly down the runway. They created a club-night scene that the audience identified with immediately. Jeffrey’s tailoring was impeccable. His signature knits collaged with chainmail showed up with Swarovski bug-encrusted boxers and foam accessories.

**** was born in Beijing, but her business is based in London. She launched her label Feng Chen **** in 2015 after the completion of her MA at London’s Royal College of Arts. ****’s 2017 collection explored and celebrated connectivity in the digital age. She combines functionality with an astute attention to detail and puts a strong focus on outerwear pieces as the core of her collection. Her clothes are available in New York City.

Gotesson is originally from a small town in the province of Smaland in Sweden. This London-based designer is also a graduate of London’s Royal College. His looks are voluminous denim pieces in classic blues and monochromes juxtaposed and worn with white tops. The collection played with proportions and was an experimental take on the designer’s own wardrobe. “It’s about scale and about finding balanced pieces between either huge or small,” he explained.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/mermaid-trumpet-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/backless-formal-dresses

Translation of
Red faced misfortune
A tune for the muse
Who rests *** less yet
Smiling with satisfaction

A sad old feeling
Of realizations & regrets

Halloween wrinkles Her nose
And the grass turns brown as
The sun slowly starts to burn out

Locket of love
Golden hanging replica
Of truth & of lies
A tie painted by a ring
A kiss where behind
Lays the knife

Burn the pages
Memorize the words
Turn of the century
These wounds are turning green
Trademarked & sworn

Leaflets of one's
Own devices
A pressure cooker
Of a lover
Tonight eyes glance
Left to right
Nigh up & down

"So your the one
They keep talking about..."

Each minute presses on from
The palms of her hands
As the wax brown & purple wooden
Floor caked with bad dreams
Speculates no longer sober
While animals dressed in winged cobra suits
Rest inside the house made of faceless poker cards

Resting willow
Eyes in half slant
Blankets pulled up to the ears
She speaks of animals lost
A tarot card terror
Death & memories

Walls of Brick
Soldiers Clad in Iron
Towers that pointed up to the sun...
Lined a city in the Dark Ages
Deemed as a "Myth"
Camelot holds secrets
Which have never been uncovered..
Replaced history
A true place lost and  changed in time...
Due to whimsical movies and books lined with a children's story.
The grounds no longer hold a building...
The Legend Remains...
Soldiers fighting for honor and for their kings
and the well kept treasures valued to the lands...
Camelot was a lifestyle and Magical Icon
Now it is a trademarked brand.
Rest in pieces unknown land...
Until we meet again and unearth your true heritage
Let's enjoy people's myths of you upon bright lit stages.

By the Five-Ringed Gods of Adrenaline
Pour the Plasma's place for Victory's Fair
Of most Sacred Masters peered and pristine
Prim Art above Profits; Yet still Aware
That the Spirit - recorded by the Muse,
Took her Efficiency a Best Blown Ride
To see each Win; Yet Bloated Heads subdue
To preach Sane Messages others will Find
Not yet Delayed - still - keep the Feathers strong,
Your Trademarked Swan times Frequency beloved
If still - Nineteen - left the ******* Pig's Throng
And your Path-of-the-Prince takes Currency.
For I, Spells and Chants soak Growth in my Age
Read my Almonds be: The Path-of-the-Sage.

I mean, look at this. Look at it! A world built on fantasy. Synthetic emotions in the form of pills. Psychological warfare in the form of advertising. Mind-altering chemicals in the form of... food! Brainwashing seminars in the form of media. Controlled isolated bubbles in the form of social networks. Real? You want to talk about reality? We haven't lived in anything remotely close to it since the turn of the century. We turned it off, took out the batteries, snacked on a bag of GMOs while we tossed the remnants in the ever-expanding Dumpster of the human condition. We live in branded houses trademarked by corporations built on bipolar numbers jumping up and down on digital displays, hypnotizing us into the biggest slumber mankind has ever seen. You have to dig pretty deep, kiddo, before you can find anything real. We live in a kingdom of *******. A kingdom you've lived in for far too long. So don't tell me about not being real. I'm no less real than the ******* beef patty in your Big Mac.

- Mr Robot

Why must we unpack MYSTERY?
Wrap it in Theology?
Box it up with piety and on our knees call “Deity!”
Can AWE be trademarked, WONDER sold?
Does the unknown have to fit a mold?
Embrace the pure uncertainty and cherish possibility.

The way history just happened in a way to give these words meaning —


We grew up to believe in a Jesus ,
Were raised to want somebody , something to save us ,
To need that more than the confidence to save ourselves

And then bombs killed the sun ,
And radio filled the sky with waves ,
God’s old realm become a vast ocean of voices and other sounds

And we listened to the static for something with faith ,
Something like a Jesus , somebody to save us from a modern **** nation ,
Some note of some harmony in static

And when some people started to sing and dance ,
We made them do a Jesus, spit cameras in Their faces and committed Them to celebrity ,
Painted Their faces on cities like graffiti written on the wall

And then we made a box like a church to frame Their living image ,
Put it in our living rooms, arranged our thrones around it ,
Worked overtime at the pollution office so we could see Their faces in color

And that box just got better , got sharper in vision ,
And we worshipped it like we’d finally found faith with a remote and a bag of potato chips ,
Always upgrading the box with Pandora trademarked on plastic

And now we have that box in our ******* pockets ,
All the Jesus , facts , vileness , and worthlessness of life ,
All that is bad and maybe good for our species , the size of our palm

And it recognizes our ******* face

And we wanted it this way ,
We asked for it , voted for it , fought for it
******* paid for it

Enter discreetly, and proceed to take a pew;
Artsy fartsy culture camo lines the wall
like morning dew. A raptured window
sits atop a glazing gall, enthralling all;
As fetished hook propels, sinks in and pulls you through.

Decked obsequis with dire strands of self set, alight;
Mixing murmers; Churning, gurning grunts and groans,
stoking sight. Essence blossoms
effervescently, into warbled drone;
Symphony of souls, atoned, erupting, blood accrued might.

Dark set eyes behind the counter, counts another crop;
Foppish foolery as skin set sore adored
by boorish mop; Head of hair
aligned, entwined, principle annulled but ******;
Evoked Muse's invocation, released enormous slop adored.

Finally a noise devoid of touch, howls reified;
Chair despair sets into tumbled, mumbled call,
plea defied. Shoddy surgeon's hand
demands, gropes alleyway to shadowed hall,
Sits abreast infernal mechanites for deified brawl.

Creeping shadows come'a'peeping, Uncle Tom'a'weeping wonder,
blunders through the choice of sticky sheen
Resists the proper plunder. Whirring warrior
begins assault on castles primly stoked for seen;
Seams amended, blackened blood serene provoking chunder stream.

Followed Zeitgeist back to Black. Slow daunter back to blue;
Repairs conceptions of the Self within the mirror visored stew;
Anew the reckonings of where and why, Oh how freshly do they die
As left to see another in thyself, and loudly to decry:
Decry the aspects of bad health, no longer put upon the shelf
Stealthy pox and watermarks depart to leave aesthetic wealth;
Dealt in depths and crepts of cunning folk behind the trademarked lens
Obssessed with visibility, maneuvures us towards our end(s).

It'll be twenty years this spring.
Twenty.
I can still remember those red lockers,
and the cadgy way you took my appraisal.

I was so innocent then,
for all my ennui and dark eyeliner.
So young and untried.

Though we were only a year apart,
you had lived entire lifetimes
in the gap between us.

You offered me a taste,
and I devoured.
A ravenous thing,
I consumed every gleaming,
disjointed moment
in that bright world.

I was an experience ******,
and you were my dealer,
my fix,
Doling out paradigms,
in neat white lines.

They called it a hole,
but it never felt like that to me.
Each hit was a journey,
And we travelled everywhere.

I was a glitter bug,
sashaying in platform heels,
you were a fresh faced candy necklace,
in a tank top and wide leg jeans.
Together we ruled the night.

We were fast and irreverent,
Trademarked by our frenetic maneuvering.
Free as the changing wind.

We were raging toward the dawn,
We were getting lit up like Christmas,
We were being kicked out of clubs,
And having dinner with the literature.

We were building blanket forts,
and breaking hearts.
We were breathing sound.

We were discovering the Multiverse,
and burning it
the
****
down!

We were two rarefied souls,
barreling toward oblivion,
laying it bare,
laying waste.

Discovering infinity,
Discovering ourselves.

Those were heady days,
and if I think about them long enough,
I can still get high on the flashback,

The swirl of fog through laser beams,
warm camphorous kisses
from loveable strangers,
Those deep beats...

If I close my eyes long enough,
I am transported
to a dark room somewhere...
A crumpled mess of girl,
you and I sloppily intertwined,
venturing ever elsewhere....

Two desperately seeking souls,
paired adventurers,
finding beauty in chaos,
in the unknown,
in heartache,
in everything.

Knowing that whatever we learned,
we learned in kind,
and that knowledge was ripe for the picking.

That everything is an offer,
an opportunity,
a lesson...

If one can just open herself,
to interpret the vibrations.

M: You so petty like Tom be
Roaming around the earf like a zombie

P: You so petty like Tom be,
Roaming round the earth like a zombie clad in Abercrombie
Shut up, Fitch.
Pitchin a fit like a tone-deaf finch singin out of pitch, lickin a wack *** riff
Lost in space, trippin tha rift
Ya'll won't dig what I spit, but you could at least sift through the remnants

M: Here's your penance for the Cubs winning the pennant
Shut up man, you're no John Lennon
If you was a car, I'ma say you'd be a Lemon.
Here's my lime, it's a rhyme that I wrote in no time
About how crime can pay well if you do it right

P: It's time to plunder and plight, I'm full of blunder and spite
The Boy Wonder, I'm a robbin and I'm about to take flight
The crowd be clappin thunder all night
I'm slinging lightning, that's right
I'm Zeus, you're Hades and we'll be warring for the spotlight.
I may be a hater, but you're my hatee and the boss' order is:
Don't quit your day job, just keep on workin your nine to five.

M:I'm deep in the slime call me a Muck raker,
**** taker, but I never really give em though
Not a nice dude, but I've never really hit a ***
Kinda wonder why I ever really spit a flow in the first
Flow is absurd, crow is a bird, and they're murderous.

P:The rhyme is evolutionary, **** man, but what's a Muk to a Grimer?
Ya'll amateur rappers are just slappin paint on the canvas without a primer
There's no substance to your "art", I'll see your Trap and raise you a Hip Hop, cross the streams and blow up like Slimer.

Ya'll just some nickel and dimers tryin to hold up a dime store so you can pick up that dime sack that you're trying to afford.

The kind of fools ain't nobody got time for.
I've ascended Mt. Olympus, you ******* need to learn how to climb more.

M: Climb up, climb down, or don't climb at all
Don't listen to those try-hards,
Watch Die Hard again and then give me my vengeance.
You ever do penance? If not that'll cost ya six pence
And I need that **** quick since I already spent it.
Rap Game Tom Selleck.

Tom Hanks is a real person
Celebrities are real people.
I wish everyone would just feel people
Not like corporeally, but emotionally worth it.
Sober immaculate cut the tension with a hatchet.

Black people hate me cause I say I'm not racist
So I guess they just hate cause they faithless

P: Do not mistake the faithless with the tasteless,
But before I screech all my beliefs, let's just sink back into the cool relief of giving praise tot he great King Nostalgia.

Welcome to Good Burger, hey remember Hans Gruber, let's watch re-runs of Law & Order?

Your girl gobblin up my junk, call her **** Wolf.
More sinister than any Stallone villain, call me Mister Dolf Lundgren
Nerdier than any dragon or dungeon.
Dirtier than any old man askin his waitress for more sugar packets so he can drop em on the floor and watch her bend over.

Red Rover, Red Rover, this verse should already be over, but I cant stop reading this Buzzfeed article telling me the 5 best lines from Crimson and Clover


M: Prolly skips like a *****.
Worth the risk.
It's curious, facts
When all I spit are spurious raps
I'm furious, Jack
Like I am jacks unbridled sound of fury since my patience is tried but with nobody on the jury
It's hard to define if I should be
Calm or Worried

P: My destiny is sittin right next to me, but I can't pick it up cuz it's too **** heavy.
I get a grip, my muscles rip, it's stuck tot he ground because I am Unworthy
How unfortunate that I made it all the way here, just to find out I can't lift up Mjolnir.

Or maybe it's a trick of the mind, I'm a victim of fear.
Maybe it's time to let my senses unwind and focus only on what is near.
It's time to make a profit off of what my prophet holds dear in his lockett, instead of settling for a Stepford Career.

Gouda is good, and Cheddah is bettah, but I'm to to make some of that Gruyere.

M: Gruyere, Camembert
List the cheeses til you're Jesus man,
Talking like you even know a lil piece of the Jesus man's plan.
I think if any of us knew it wouldn't even really please us fam,
Cause absolute knowledge is pain,
Actually growing is lame, and all we are is ever in between two planes of existence
So find the path with little resistance.

P: My prophet ain't Jesus, do you capiche this?
God's plan ain't nothin but a back-up like a clogged drain, or where the food came
that hadn't been chewed enough by the backward's spelling of the man himself.

D-O-G

Lookin for his bounty, but I'm a gatherer not a hunter
So you best expect that I'll be laid to rest in peace while you're still suffering from the disease of lying through your teeth.
Best BELIEVE!
Of my Philosophy, you can not conceive.
Whether or not you've thrown away your virginity doesn't decide whether you're imprisoned or free.

To be free costs a fee, but the sinnin is free.
It don't make no sense to me, so I consult my sensei who says to **** down a sasparilla, smoke some sensimillia, and tuck my head between my knees
Until the atomic wind has passed and I'm left to enjoy the cool breeze.
*******! Literally.
What if God was one of us?
He'd probably sob because of what he's done.
But with no consequence his reign will run.
Check the mic, make sure it's not a gun

M: Nuclear winter is chill boss
As your lawyer I need to tell you to lay off the pills boss put them ***** back in the pill box dude
all theology is toxic really and western ideology is very jesus-centric even though dude was basically just a fasting eccentric

Oops the mics been a glock this whole time and the safety broke long ago prolly round the time the patriarchy spoke up and plotted the embargos

P: Oh, well, I guess we gotta ditch the stolen cargo
Form something new and see hor far it goed
Don't be distracted by the hard blows, I mean, the blowhards
Look no further than your own hand to see if your success is in the cards.

**** WE NEED TO DO THIS EVERY DAY
WE'LL BE UNSTOpPABLE

I mean you're alread nine million miles ahead of my ***,
I've been cruisin in coach and blah blah first class
Similies and poetry are base to me
I want to talk about philosophy in non-interpretable terms make the common people squirm in their nikes
Only a capitalist society can bring true revoltion, but the truth is no one really wants it even the revolutionaries are scared of what change do they want enough trainers so they can change shoes and listen to the blues to feel like feeling is real when it's really just a memory of something unlearnable.

P: Hey Nike, he likes it
Oops, I blew it,
I meant Just Dew The Dew it.
Obey the corporate propaganda, don't see through to the blue skin dudes n ****.
Throw them Locs on

M: Someone ******* **** me already cause I can't do it by myself
Cause I don't do illegal ****, I keep my trophies on a shef
In the basement in a house that nobody but the bank owns
Let me get some dank loans so I can open up a bank, holmes

Don't burn me, I'm tryin earnestly to fix ****
I don't believe in magic but I believe in possibility
which I guess is really just the same thing as magic when you get down to it
I'm trying to draw a circle on a chalkboard and jump right through it
I went t the school of truant bibliophiles the curriculum:
wild the teachers were posters of feral beasts with logos and copyright laws
I bet Gandhi quotes are trademarked, you dumb Marxist

P: Holmes, like the detective, but people never give enough respect to the perspective of the Watson.
Just give me that watch son, and keep on walkin
Betta hope I got all that I want, son, and don't decide to shoot you in the back and split you open like a sidewalk crack that'll give your mom a spinal tap when you cross it.

All you hear is a cocked back gat and then a BOOM BOOM BAP like the bass drum got brought back to like 2011
While your soul decides if heaven is really worth it,
Then your spirit will snap back into your body like nothing ever hurt it.
Rebirth it.

M: Like D.C did that
I'm post P.C. syntax
I bet I'd be a great dad screaming **** WHITEY cause white people hate that.
But that was actually a bad move making white folks uncomfortable
Cause more than half them reverted back to their most basest racist tendencies like two fold
Like who really holds the reigns really,
The work force is the horse and I'm a philly
Green is the universal race. Do you feel me?

Greed is the color of your mother's eyes while she hears the news on the phone of how your brother died cause otherwise it's your corpse of course you knew this already.

Anyways whatever man it's all pretty whatever man
Just be nice to people cause it's just better man.

trademarked fingertips
your fingerprints
lips linger with lust luxurious
excruciating heat
of exfoliating sleep
peels layers of age and worry

slumber of silent lace
and your embrace
of slow paced laughter
is lime green rhymes
I wish of time
remember then that before the after
when there was happy
but ignored the matter
the sweats you let me borrow

tomorrow threatens better judgement
better such that bitter words stint
careful hurt get, if you don't feel it

there's no right answer to this

Mystification prevails stupefying yours truly
befuddled, he blindly stumbles along rocky
pathway illusory impediments strewn helter
skelter intangible obstructions hinder access
psychological barricades effective impasse

detains, deters, detours manhood maturation
manumission manifestation materialization
linkedin, when permanent submission arises
beckoning corporeal leaden entity into avast
eternal realm, where material disintegration

promises venerable salvation releasing angst
strummed plucked fretful existence denied
utmost exploration sequestered soul hermit
tickly sealed courtesy custom made NON-
GMO supercalifragilous expialidocious

airtight, vacuum sealed with trademarked
matts scott good housekeeping approval
lifetime achievement award maintaining
quasi pristine mint like condition afford
double (FREE for the taking) full refund

if dissatisfied with stutt...tut...tut tearing
functionality, yet batteries NOT required
and assembly unnecessary, but maximum
remaining life usage, asper garden variety
mutant requires preservation within sterile

bubble, lest exposure to human contact are
rouse dormant (latent) propensity breeding
biologically pre programmed predilection
to propagate species, this despite low libido
level, thus Memorial sale steal (actually no

expiration coincides with natural longevity)
slight depreciation before cessation arises,
which I project - little less than half life of
ordinary Earthling, whose quixotic, poetic,

ecologic, plus conscientious ethos promises
greater fulfillment, sans spirit, mind, and
body versus being addicted, hypnotized, or
tranquilized by latest technologic contraption,
boot cyber surfing mendicant surrenders self.

Yours truly beckons angel of mercy
or effective altruist to please intercede.

Though predominantly skeptical
concerning divine intervention...
crushing desperation grinds heavily
kickstarting, mortgaging, pummeling
ripsnorting, unraveling, ar...wresting...
sense and sensibility...annihilating

joie de vivre exceeding Herculean powers
to defy overbearing blitzkrieg,
luftwaffe pounding psyche
wickedly, unbearably suffocating,
helplessly choking
impossibility to gasp

even one breath
lifesource within ******
dry as a bone,
hence desperation beseeching
salvation to triumph
over mailer daemon adversity

wildly analogous to aerialist
readily clasped linkedin
clenching tight teammate's hands
thwarting being pitched
feather head over tar heels,
whereby yours truly

grasps empty air
spiralling untethered from gravity
lost in space
scanning distant heavens
to espy prayerful rescue
courtesy winged warrior

benevolent endearing joyous
miraculous celestial being
rendering genuine ambition
to mend figurative fences,
with kith and kin,
where orneriness (mine) cleft

delicate whirled wide webbing,
thus me metaphorically dangling
bandied to and fro
hither and yon
free falling unmoored
grudgingly surrendering

mine mortality nsync
with manifest destiny
regarding death be not proud
of all corporeal entities
temporarily suspending atheism
in limbo where faith no more

steady Rock of Gibraltar
(though steeply entrenched)
peering skyward gleaning any hint
to perceive inimitable

otherworldly gifted helpmate
to usher deliverance, viz exaltations
experiencing unbridled affinity
toward kith and kin.