Pretend I'm Wrong for 15 Minutes

Pretend I’m Wrong; Extend that through this Unending Song

Part I Warming up to War:

Water is my Father, it calms. Southside is my Mother, turns it on like Warrior Psalms. Outside, shout to ride, clout to vibe, honest, on it, infinite with Falun Gong.

Zoom on this song ‘cuz I’m not about pride. I’m a mouthful of undisguised diatribe. A life without compromise costs vigilant self-honesty.

Livid and liquid, live it and be with it. Stick to it like shit in Scripture ‘cept my prescription impure is to gab and hack every facet back.

Beriddled in every little aspect looking vast in the mirror. Seeing clearer from the days past, when looking enrapt from the bathroom glass was only…

…the blasting agony-anomie of the mirror staring back, sparing me no track. So much further away, the twirled disturbances these days of brooking a glimpse without hooking a wince at what shook within infinite zones, when the mirror wins over my dome.

Waking up nowadays to show? It isn’t just my flow that lingers to disperse over Schroedinger’s omniverse…

…other Brother-Me’s like what I included in earlier alluded stories…

(Get near-er with words if you’ve read MirrorWorlds)

…when every possible Me gets an option to be free and laughs back from the glass I’m overwhelmed and fast roll like a black hole to fast console a collapsing galaxy into this one!

Layered undone!

With nothing left to envelope. Not even empty smoke lingering near me, like closing the gaps in String Theory. My raps could use a few views of collapsing universe abuse, but that’s just my personal curse!

Part II Warnings to Pay Dues, Agendas and Clues:

Post apocalyptic usefulness defines your REAL role on the totem pole. I’ve got homies who’ll turn the power grid back on. I’ll hold your stories and move on.

I’ve got friends who’ll do autopsies and then smoke and cough with me. So meet me rhyme-trapping for mind-rapture sometime in the After! We’ll twist one up, mix it such, wish me luck, match it with me! Useful utility to choose to carry still the wary will of your story? Watch me murder the alphabet, further calcify it orally as morals, see and hear mon ami, right without fear…

A. All Around the World: Call me a ground squirrel, all around the world.
B. Bear Yourself. Arm Bears. Bear Arms. Bare Yourself. Take care of wealth, there’s harm out there, beware your charms, don’t be scared, use stealth. Bare yourself, arm bears, bear arms, bare yourself.
C. Clear Your Conscience. Don’t fear being honest. Clear your conscience.
D. Divide and Conquer. Ride your honor, divide and conquer, don’t fight the Beyonder, but be a proper first responder.
E. Enjoy Everyday. Employ your rage and don’t be annoyed this day, you’re still employed and ill will spills to play, so enjoy everyday.
F. Fuck the World, Free the Werewolves, Final Tallying Whirlwind. Sucks to tuck under, so buck and rend asunder, shuck and unfurl, fuck the world, spree your bare soul, me, I’m barely in control, set free the werewolves, like vinyl’s halcyon early win, heinas, scallies, curlies bent like smokestreams at their rim for currency within, my final tallying whirlwind.
G. Girls Go Wild. I hurled on the tiles, while girls go wild, too early to be sunken drunk, should’ve gone mild.
H. Homeward Bound Hellhound. From the boneyard I found a homeward bound hellhound. My tomes I scrounge from the dome spellbound.
I. Instant Gratification comes with Being a Great Man. Blinking fascination runs in escalation, instant gratification, in winking statements. Fate unplanned, but instant gratification comes with being a great man. Make this stand!
J. Joking and Toking is Just Capital By Me. A punk’s art divine, from a junkyard mind, loosely cocked, fearing no double-zero, a jukebox hero divine. Stroking and invoking what’s actual and magical in every spree ‘cuz joking and toking is just capital by me!
K. Kidding About Discussing Killing? Never ridding me of my illing, I’m rigging my will, sitting in pig swill and still chance a jig while stances advance. I dance while spilling! Never kidding about discussing killing, but getting in where I fit in. Invoking lost notes in every caustic flow I rock to blow like the Brill Building!
L. Let Loose with No Excuse. Craziness all around town, laziness will let you down so I’m blowing haze and set to clown. Frets to abuse from sore issues, let loose with no excuse.
M. Miracles Come with Mayhem. Carry it on ya, fear no Citizen! Marijuana is a miracle medicine. The ganja is here without stems within! Spherical where I lay these in, miracles come with mayhem.
N. Nearly Invisible, Yet So Near. Weary in intervals but have no fear. Anti-hero indivisible and my frets blow instead of tears. Nearly invisible yet so near. Cheerfully withering under weather miserable the last 3 years.
O. On it, Honest, Into this. Bombing shit, without limits! On it, honest, into this and for the win of it! Mana running unlimited!
P. Practicing Preparedness. Matching the mirror for a wary blitz… when practicing preparedness! Asking for every piece “Where is this?”
Q. Question Everything. A collection to bring, from questioning everything, my quest is to inspect and sling what’s left from directions un-answering … spy thrice and divide it nice and tight for sure like the Pied Piper switching fast pipes for rats to vipers to blur!
R. Reveal Everything in Time. Conceal Nothing in Rhyme. Feeling heaviness clinging in my mind, so I’m revealing everything in time and concealing nothing in my rhymes. I’m healing without bluffing when I climb and spree awhile in freestyle.
S. Sit Tight, Without Wasting the Night. Oh, the obscure allure of a security gig overnight! Fitting right, spitting delight, sitting tight without wasting the night.
T. Take Back the Night. Slaking my thirst past vice. This is my third fireburst this shift dispersed! This curse I can’t fight! Shaking from Second Sight when I close my eyes, quaking might betray in prose undisguised, taking back the night!
U. Underdogs Underdevelop. Don’t Get Caught Unawares or Settle for Unprepared. Get Underground Wary with an Outlaw’s Sense of Urgency. Wonder if I’ll ever resolve and let up? Underdogs under-develop. I hunger when I self-reflect on check-ups. Fronting brings despair so don’t get caught unawares… or let your roll get controlled by rules unfair. Get underground wary with an outlaw’s sense of urgency. Clout within is what allows your real currency. Unfurled in a hurry and you can outwhirl and adapt this world in every scene!
V. Victors Make Themselves. Quick, get off the shelf and get a vision of what’s best past what you can tell. Quicker, know yourself, bespelled, because victors make themselves!
W. Why Ask Why? Just Do it. Don’t stop and sigh and intuit, why ask why? Just do it!
X. Examine, X-Ray, Execute like a XXX Shoot! Cramming in plays, set to spray, choose to groove to it! Examine, x-ray and execute, like the director of a triple-X shoot!
Y. Youth is for Bruising. Truth gets misused and if you’re loose you’ll know what to choose. Your youth is for bruising. This life is your only due, nothing else can be proved!
Z. Zoo is Humanity. True span of me, zoo is humanity. Unglued, unplanned insanity!

Part III Slamming Free:

I’ll pound a thousand bars with my lucid tongue, scrounging beyond par! I’ve found it’s only fun when I’m astounding to groove, undone and going too far. My sound comes undone and rounds the blues, crowning truths and running my scat like the Flash reaching the nearest star!

Past the sun ‘cuz I’m hotter when I patter like water all spun, Alpha Centauri? I’ve got a mouth full of war like Ares. When I stand up to slay, my fray makes a Super Cray look like an Atari!

So Flash slipped into my chat was hoping to be scoping past this? He was fast but not enough…

…I trust I felt the rust in my open gashes. Something terrible crashed in that parable but doesn’t rhyme this time so I’ll just let you in on this: To avoid tetanus and lockjaw, don’t bet on rocking me raw to resolve my collage!

I won’t allow a whisper of sabotage by like whiskers that sense and don’t twitch for a mirage…

…lay off the playlist of an oasis! If you bring this, know it quick that making illusion the basis of your solution will lead to discovery that pattering chatter wasn’t my ONLY martial mastery!

For the impure allure of saboteurs? Even the stench of blunder found by the French Underground had a wishing with their resistance and those who study history to actually examine tactics behind victory will be sure to concur: In the trenches we don’t mention our cures. We pay attention to what stirs and stay with discretion to keep it within like battle hymns!

This world isn’t yours or mine; it’s a war of crimes! Neither his nor hers…

…it twirls at core so divine and what’s more it feeds in, so all your needings don’t include freedoms. Zoom in, I’m pleading: humans are resources. Have been since we’ve been breeding. No discourse just to get skeptics seething…

…they live to UNMAKE and humans of course are NOT fully Awake! So like vessels that can self-circulate we get used to create. And then act like we don’t get taxed in every state or place when for every play our work fills another’s plate! There’s no end to it, someone else’s benefit; freedom is merely LENT where it fits. By the 1% from where they sit!

So I don’t reveal more than 1% of the magic I practice…

…but harmony in synergy slows harm from me and I flow to warm the energy and alarm and warn those who were born under the fake angles of a snake-handler’s charm. So to get under the fence when I’m hungering and incensed I’m giving away 100% of the frantic antics and the chances that led to massive tactics to get past the ratchets and rackets that tighten our screws. Mental abuse in population misused, like everyone forgot the education of the Frog in a Pot.

What do you expect when most forget PBS used to be the best station?

Cenwynn Krow, friend from another show… you’re in this unending flow! Here’s your toast yo: If you’re reading this fast list, then sorry to you, Kat Jaklistch. You called out the lies and had me in a vice on that one, true and tight. I didn’t have an excuse when you scoped in bright. Just got to ground, went to look around at was real and what I found? I learned to deal and wear it thin like my own bare skin. Learning to bear with myself within. Changed and found myself since then. Might’ve been remiss in using your old names friend. But fuck it. Thought you should hear this: You inspired me to ride without disguises when you called me out on that shit. Back in ’05. I’m fast with it, but only patter truth now. Thanks to you for the call-out and check the math back on everything I ever rapped since you put me on blast. I fucking mean that. Go back and fact-check and see it come clean in every chat yet.

Part IV After the War:

If I offended you in the Before with my patter,

I’ll still want to lend you friendship in store in the After.

Ill will jaunts without end, my War is a disaster. Killing the bills haunts women and men…

…At core my views extend…

…Past the rapture. Set for gore if Aftermen unfriend and seek my capture.

Beyond shattering their asses, a fast blast in their Depends when I speak for distraction…

…A blur action of traps to snap knees back--it’s not just chattering disaster I’m mastering!

On the… …after… …this… …thing? My dues are paid and my crew plays for shattering shins, crashing harms from crash cars, armored vast and armed! Come past our farms and light bright first, warning tight, move on! No alarms. Just blink and get up, pump those legs and arms. Second warning doesn’t come on.

Unruly on my feet and plundering. Fully complete…

…no, wait, that’s redundant! Fuck it, I’m not done with it…

…running shit like rubber sheets in nursing homes. I never shudder in defeat dispersing tomes! Map this for elegance. Synergy ahead of sense. Memory like an elephant. I’ve been rapping poems in convalescent homes. Chatter with rotting glories. To gladly scatter their forgotten stories.

Like the Mad Hatter I won’t hear “Poor me!” I’ve got malice underhand for self-pity like Alice left Wonderland and came to MY city!

I don’t need to compete with any to complete my enemies. I eat unfriendlies just to keep my feet tender-stepping and knees bendy! Match this with your blasting fist! Okay, get pissed, get ready to miss! Fast-twitch a back-pocket trick, half-trip to slip under a left elbow, bereft below to spin the divergent energy flow in a wily go. Off the side in a modified Aikido hip roll! Compete with any? I complete my enemies because that’s the feat of me. Defeat is free! Be seated on the concrete and see! Pound to disrupt, from the ground up and have it again, for bad math scans like the Vatican’s never very cleverly hidden plans!

AFTERMATH Loki Splits Quick, like the Sick Joy of a Schizoid and Comes Back to sit his Mortal Host down for a Chat:

Me: Blah. Blubba, blubba blaw!

Loki: Yeeeeeah man, that was raw!

Me: Shut the fuck up, Loki.

Loki: Bleeeeeagh! ‘Cuz you can! Rawest missive your lips ever solved!

Me: I said, FUCK YOU LOKI!

Loki: NOoooo! You nerd! Worse now when I return for a third! Like Jaws! Cursed and how you’ll get burned for disturbing MY cause!

Me: Loki you never had a cause. You’re just ravenous. That’s not a cause. That’s a fucking Vice.

Loki: Sad advice for the human I zoomed in and what’s undone, becoming funny in this run-on tune… …HE’s the one in a fucking vice! Ohhhh… …such a bright… …future? Sucks to be right. To be so sure. Reckon tight you never wanted Second Sight? How’d you rhyme that stream…
…in a bitty riddle I had grittily filled FOR you, to disguise a little…
…in the touching dream of the seduction of Mary Magdalene

(Such mean puns, none intended on touching dreams, rushing reams, but parenthetically… you were NEVER ahead of ME! Sore from cranial abuse? I was in your dome when you cut loose! I was in your childhood home when you paid your dues! And inevitably I wrote that poem FOR you.)

…so pick up slack, rhyming fast…
…criminy! NOW I remember that rhyming stream disguised riddle “Je ne veus pas ces reves!/I sought to shunt the stream, I do not want these dreams/But thirst unwinded curtain seams/Blind yet certain from behind the scenes.”…
…reflecting bright, expecting delight, NOW you say you never wanted Second Sight?

Me: Fuck no. Some flowers only bloom at night, Loki.

Loki: Self-empowered without fright! Don’t play coward! You were never a flower! You didn’t cower at dusk and never cared if it was day or vice! We were hunting Deus tight. The way was slight!

Me: Sure, you’re right, but it sure got sour alright. Everything rots. My duty I fought until beauty was forgot, and vanity couldn’t handle me and status was no longer a habit. But that spot is still sooo tight. The war is ardor and bliss. No more Fate. Get it right then. Precise tongue tip for ardor’s kiss, like tasting the clitoris!