In the land of the blind the one eyed man is stoned to death

In the Land of the Blind, the One Eyed Man is Stoned to Death.

Part I: For the Blind

Everyone wants to step, stomp their rep, get set, fired up like a jet, with a desire to collect the trump card, thump their chest hard, pump their sex parts…                 ...backrhyme…                   …fast time for slack to unwind…                    ….Everyone can get swamped! Jested back for their whack tested, max-invested flack!

Stomped flat to tattoo fast, bloodshine culled on the fly, like bull’s eye-ing a whomp rat! Get stumped with caustic shards of a lost relic art…                …Like the agnostic Cardinal pardoned from harm after repositioning manage-it-wishes of the Spanish Inquisition’s broken arms, bespoken marms, broken terms, stolen farms…                 …But fade it back ‘cuz Crusaders picked up slack, “Beholden the flax were warned!”

Yeeeeeeeeah. Damn the very name. Sheeple came to catch burning steeple games! Weep for their shame and have through proprietary piety their whole society reframed! In the turgid confusion of hurried revolution? Currency stabilized sheeple’s constitution and Clergy enabled people’s absolution!

Well currency is still currently a tool of mind control! Urgency to fool, time to blow! Disturbancies school to find our roll. Mercy dispenses to finance what’s ours to show!

Confusion blurs, hurriedly we’re less sure when digesting myths of worth. What’s worse we’re thus cursed to aspire to someone else’s desire! Profile wishes from birth…                       ...devile and divide natural ambition to aspire to set our own living conditions higher. Accept that? Vicious.

Revisit wishes with the mission to sustain fat-cat plutocrat-penultimate-sculpted-using-practiced pratfall systems…                   …when all your wishing can currently only be earned-see by Theocrat visions UNHIDDEN in currency chains!

Hurry my pain, dispersed like acid rain. Fast twitch-again; I’m practicing wresting sense and taking back my investment in my own testament. Raid my larder and slay harder to trade and barter.

Wish it wasn’t so easy to chart the sleazy parts of where we were unpardonably fleeced. I release it in my art, but Patriarchs still make this life hard. Why does anyone deny a feudal disguised caste system anymore? This vicious vision is the core of my war, when I slay by the way.

Civilization is a shared hallucination: abused population investing means towards government protection schemes. Blunder sense, inspecting dreams. Blurring the fences to blight and fool…

Assurance in rewriting rules, compliance is the very science impure of concurrence freely hiding. Defense finances permanence and “We the People” see to tithing. Repent and chances budge towards judging innocence.

Sit on the fence writhing or take a fight sir for either side and be sure…                   …of nothing! Except for the accepting without bluffing that the abysmal dream divides to conquer. Subliminal means in chaotic-chasing-patriotic-indie-optic-erasing political machine for days to decades has remained in its frame.

I get incensed and I won’t be content to just know I’m bent when I slay! Nor will I just play and wait for change to stay. Scary meandering like the pandering banter in Gerrymander’s scampering with ridicule behind the scenes. Blundercollars calling underdollars. It’s all over the walls for this brawler!

It’s all the same lame game now no matter how your individual political cow hollers. Get specific? Gain cred. Fret prolific; your brain still remains misled! Such shame I wonder how the world’s biggest ballers get under? Curl the riddle-fied walls of civilized calls, torn asunder. To hide their cowardly hunger for power placement in civilization.

Or shower the common with entertainment and get on with no interference or fear of replacement. Such dark mental real estate sparks and helps to develop grace in my little riddle to whittle away why civilized rides divide a vibe. Just to force us to hide inside. This flowing ride places its statement from what Earth first grown like anti-hero Nero’s fiddle shown all through the burning of Rome!

Change came at a discrete cost…                            …meet the new boss…                                  …same as the old boss…                 …change wanes like the tides with people stronger--               yet kept in check! No longer enabled to rise so vast like tide to wax.

Hurriedly clergy hides and demands tithes. A system to maintain equilibrium’s vision! Above and sunny, love and money, tithes and hate passes as the distract-fast opiate-blast of the masses! Totemic competition suspends vision like the distraction of a caste system for uprising.

With graphic action outmatching and passion outlasting I say “FUCK THE DERISION OF SUCH TIRED FROM THE START HIERARCHAL COMPETITION!” Trump your cards, thump your chest card and get stumped by a lost art. If you don’t feel this in your heart, they already know what to steal from the start. FREE YOURSELF! Do without shouting for clout. Go all out for none but your OWN part!

Part II: For the Awakened, waiting for a sign

Just step in gunning, full of clips to spit and rally shit and ire like narcissist valley vampires sunning. A style so gruff to leave a pile of dust from miles stunning? I’m expecting nothing, so get to busting your sin without bluffing. Within a shout of lusting. Spinning my blend, an infinite grin to win, I’m proudly trusting intuition gushing.

Fretting is a mushed hushed thing. Bloodletting injustice is ours to bring! Shrug off the stressing with nugs of purple zest to sling. Syrup-full, dripping cured until currents of kief internally burst. Hurdles to swing sure come unfurled with zing!

You’re “living the dream” instead of Hell when you’re bespelled, living well beyond your means. Until then you’re just infinitely dreaming. If I lose all the rhymes burned up in time I’ll choose the kind I earn, reckoning finer the second shine to check my mind until it blurs.

Make it matter, past idle chatter. Get your head baked with nugs of red. Shout what’s unsaid. Clout from under the rug instead of letting it rest with dread. I ache seeing denial and since I was a child it mattered most to shatter it where I scope. So this riled pirate rake’s wily style is to scatter a gushing vibe when trusting nothing can hide!

Like lust on the side, I’m crushing frights, rushing into fights, never hushing insights. Up in the night, I’m puffing to ride with Etrigan from Darkhorse’s Hitman, demon of frenetic zen-span, a habit to atone what’s tragic in my done I’m alone in the catacombs and deep in his sights. Feeding assassination plans. Never pleading for might but I might employ my voice with poise to destroy you with vibration tight enough to crush right to mush and slice through you!

Layers forsaken crammed like a radiation slam. Don’t bother to blotter, the talent is balanced, frets will spin like lesbians on a teeter-totter! Patter like water I’m always set to spray from A to Zoso! Improv to pray Padre Nostro to absolve the Holy Ghost to show lowly cows how my Tao solves, wows and revolves more loco!

Interference betraying, spherical experience chasing, empirically laying in fears so bold slaying. But miracles always come with mayhem! Near it all divine appearance on occasion clears, day in, playing, day out swaying.

Fluttering direct a way to win in Butterfly Effect staying. Like it, be unright, uptight, fight to spite it but you may not change it is all I’m saying. A range of pain may spray and rend to disarray your zen, but fray or pray, miracles always come with mayhem.

Scope it, soak it ‘til your skin turns tight if within it feels like sin, not right? Don’t fight it. It’s eternal, turning to rue, burning like pissing acid diurnally in a living barbed wire urinal, 32 days screwed. No joke I haven’t discerned and misspoke the curse I provoked. I only wrote and dispersed, the universe first made all this true!

Part III: For Me

A stance to handle, no chance to flee! A man isn’t entranced by candles but from howling within, even the Shao-Lin find angles of ch’I where those flames dance so free. Set to spree I’m an over-sexual intellectual, bolder blessed to affect you all with subtext from the first call! I’ll come undone, burst from stall, trouble defeated!

Stubble on my feet, a subtle discrete double-step beat huddles complete. Within reach verses dispersed in shuddering thousand-round bursts! Suddenly worse themes dream-engineer entrance to the scene…

…So sheer upsteps in tempo upsets the frets and let psychology diabolically rob my flow. I’ll spark a gleam from darker means. Feed ‘em lean between rhymes. At least my demons park clean between the lines! Beasts of reason: Actual science is tactically violent and unkind.

Subliminal cynicism, indiscrete utter derision in street smarts and gutter wisdom, bleeding art riddles hidden within plays out neat, stays hard as cleats breaking teeth, enemies laid out complete. A little beridden with shocks in stride like cold-bitten children in Occupied Poland!

The whirlwind within always comes out on top, but the birth of every verse is costlier and frostier to me. Ill will won’t sit still as this cocky art won’t stop, possesses me with options to gawk! Outside I vibe but inside I’m gushing frets stemming graphic…                                       … like Russian Roulette with semi-automatics!

Holding it in hidden with longer crimes in laundry lines, a stronger mind to launch a rhyme. It’s raunch time, getting late, not afraid to debate and crunch a punk ‘cuz I’m punch drunk. And I munch on crunk and spit shit real quick in sick quips, dismissed in a list. Rules make me sore, fueled by discord. Showing collaborators, agitators, doubters, haters, fools what for. Dropping jewels from my pockets to the floor! That’s what popping in wisdom in rock implores.

Science and facts provide the mileage that lasts. I finance my acts inside the page to chat. If I find what attracts also rides the tiles so black? So tight? Red and white? Instead of a fight...                ...against a boring subject? I say more of it and fuck it!

If someone’s disturbed off what I pop? I have fun with nerd rock; they can get their cock chopped off! Like Lorena Bobbit came back with a hatchet, opportunity, blessed Diplomatic Immunity, emphatic about mutiny and then just lost it, mobbed it and had a god-awful cock-drop fest! So you see, like TMBG I celebrate without conformity. Self-express, put shit to the test and celebrate ANYTHING of interest. Music should be what grooves you best.

But then when everything within view must be put to a test, that which is un-prove-able is forever suspect. So is there unusual distress in the incredible? The grooving roll of skeptical about what’s indelible? You can’t erase what you have to face in EXISTENCE. It’s the decision to have it whether or not it’s valid that keeps any of us on the map of this shit.

That’s all within, though. I’m holding it in hidden like gold in socks, just one more mission! Whether a vision of Anne Frank or clever “Damn Yanks” these crammed pranks are on a level to bespell the devil’s solution in the cranky yank’s dutiful revolution…

…Or the musical that used the same name for how-to-win at a Faustian collusion without confusion…

…Back and forth like practice swords, spastic and sore. Front says more, back plays gore, pick up slack and quicken this war…                              …and let Loki of Literati get naughty on tempo like the Karate of Kempo…

…Stroke and provoke me after a toddy and you’ll invoke the laughter of oddities...                                      …rolling from hip shot. Quick spots pick up over the shoulder; so roll a flow bolder. Investment from the first sentence. This gnarled unpardoned artist has done his part now LET’S START THIS!