deepundergroundpoetry.com
Ink Master
"I am Captain of my ship
Master of my destiny"
i smile, cause u just
gotta love the irony
for i am a merely vessel
navigating a path
fate forged my fortitude
led me to this craft
i am enslaved to my ink
just as it belongs to me
we are bound and chain
connected spiritually
blurring that fine line
of slave/master
internal chaos creating
a beautiful disaster
a poetic storm
blowing winds of change
flooding cerebellums and
and reaking havoc on brains
each scripture is scribed
in my garden of zen
baptized in the eternal flames
of my enlightened pen
my golden compass to navigate
the labarynth within
these twisted thoughts bled
by wounded whipped skin
embroidered flesh read
line by line like braile
u will feel wat u dont see, wont hear
the wind gushing in my sails
my passionate pandemonium
touching down like a tsunami
twist and fold up words
like its poetic origami
a gifted twister
yea im a twisted sister
a tranquil wildchild
a psychodelic ink elixer
i mastered linguistics
so i switched to phonics
digitally remastered INK
into high def ebonics
for "I am Captain of my ship
Master of my destiny"
i am a slave to my ink
but it is mastered by ME
Master of my destiny"
i smile, cause u just
gotta love the irony
for i am a merely vessel
navigating a path
fate forged my fortitude
led me to this craft
i am enslaved to my ink
just as it belongs to me
we are bound and chain
connected spiritually
blurring that fine line
of slave/master
internal chaos creating
a beautiful disaster
a poetic storm
blowing winds of change
flooding cerebellums and
and reaking havoc on brains
each scripture is scribed
in my garden of zen
baptized in the eternal flames
of my enlightened pen
my golden compass to navigate
the labarynth within
these twisted thoughts bled
by wounded whipped skin
embroidered flesh read
line by line like braile
u will feel wat u dont see, wont hear
the wind gushing in my sails
my passionate pandemonium
touching down like a tsunami
twist and fold up words
like its poetic origami
a gifted twister
yea im a twisted sister
a tranquil wildchild
a psychodelic ink elixer
i mastered linguistics
so i switched to phonics
digitally remastered INK
into high def ebonics
for "I am Captain of my ship
Master of my destiny"
i am a slave to my ink
but it is mastered by ME
Published 4th Feb 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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11th Feb 2013 6:15am
Much bliss in this verse, Ink Mistress!
I would be remiss in taking a pass
But can't miss in making a wish gasp
"I am Captain of my ship
Master of my destiny"
i smile, cause u just
gotta love the irony
Befuddled and bespelled
A publicly held
belief-- shaken and overtaken by a mind thief?
Okay, a pro scope for an opener.
This holds my hopes for sure.
for i am a merely vessel
navigating a path
fate forged my fortitude
led me to this craft
i am enslaved to my ink
just as it belongs to me
we are bound and chain
connected spiritually
Miracle of creation
Connects where unexpected explanation
Can leave riot-ous hell-cats, pious zealots and ill and grim pilgrims...
without a blessed statement!
Perhaps we were all woven from the stream
Awoken from the Weaver's reams
Spoken into being for no reason
But to be sleeping back to dreaming?
blurring that fine line
of slave/master
internal chaos creating
a beautiful disaster
And in every ream from daily scenes
Recombines in minds set to dream
To refill the stream
Headfuls... turning into vessels... wrestled
in place by souls set to roll, spilling grace
hurrying past time, blurring that fine line
Between worries... and slooooow wine. A wave to
pass... no matter... in stasis, no slave or master
What won't lay off, pays off to matter
Chaos creating beautiful disaster
Dutiful like laughter for souls to blast gates past and stir!
a poetic storm
blowing winds of change
flooding cerebellums and
and reaking havoc on brains
each scripture is scribed
in my garden of zen
baptized in the eternal flames
of my enlightened pen
Ooooh, a seedy - grafiitii stream when one feeds from so many brooks... filling the drops into hooks and not stopping but letting it all cook...
Unto a boil for the brain's toil to remain loyal and feed such reams back into the stream, back into the omni-dream... coasting back into the ocean.
A habit to toast on every refrain. I have to... to ease the havoc in my brain.
Baptised as well in eternal flames
Of remembering the burning faces
And still tendering their names
my golden compass to navigate
the labarynth within
these twisted thoughts bled
by wounded whipped skin
embroidered flesh read
line by line like braile
u will feel wat u dont see, wont hear
the wind gushing in my sails
Past a tapestry of sin, a labrynth within, pops off of infinite stories chopped too early, dropped and recropped...
Squirelly and emboldened with gmption and ruckus...
'Cause Loki never held a Golden Compass...
Past that glimpse my labrynth?
Was in following the scent of the dead.
What was sent ahead.
Dissent in history? Well, it was made vicious. Like Daedelus. Following his thread.
Would've been alot easier for my head...
If they'd left ME some yarn.
'Stead of just a warning "Don't. Roll. On."
But no worries, I just learned to get gutter-wise and squirrelly.
What was real set me free, feeling what I couldn't see
u will feel wat u dont see, wont hear
the wind gushing in my sails
Trusting in busting out of that jail.
And behold a whole new world to win!
A whirlwind of words to unfurl and set free
And fear no shard like Kierkegaard...
But match his fate and own it some!
my passionate pandemonium
touching down like a tsunami
twist and fold up words
like its poetic origami
a gifted twister
yea im a twisted sister
Scamper and make this,
Your verse hankers my feet to take a trip
A dare this pirate rake flips!
But like Twisted Sister
WE'RE NOT GONNA TAKE THIS!
a tranquil wildchild
a psychodelic ink elixer
Poem zones down yet to Joan Jett
Retiming and spacing quick with Grace Slick
A Jet to Jefferson Airplane verbal trick?
i mastered linguistics
so i switched to phonics
digitally remastered INK
into high def ebonics
Aw, screw all that slang, but you had me at this Wu Tang feel again!
for "I am Captain of my ship
Master of my destiny"
i am a slave to my ink
but it is mastered by ME
While I normally track lines and naturally form backrhymes
Your burning flow blurred those tracks like Cyrano de Bergerac shutting down the competition plenty fast in the first half of his twenty tracks!
Your rhythm is tight. Your chops set up with emotion and expectation.
And then drop letting the audience coast down to your station.
A good audio hypno- re-location
Talent you balance in this creation.
It's a major throne you've created in your dome. A Charles Xavier zone to make each layer hold the reader...
By the hopes and ears.
And rope their fears.
Firesprayer. Prisonbreaker. Desire to say the blur? Is a vision to make me stir.
The schooner you constructed? The zoome for sure, schooner for an ocean of dreams?
Upon this loon's inspection it speaks as a single piece, utterly without seams!
I would be remiss in taking a pass
But can't miss in making a wish gasp
"I am Captain of my ship
Master of my destiny"
i smile, cause u just
gotta love the irony
Befuddled and bespelled
A publicly held
belief-- shaken and overtaken by a mind thief?
Okay, a pro scope for an opener.
This holds my hopes for sure.
for i am a merely vessel
navigating a path
fate forged my fortitude
led me to this craft
i am enslaved to my ink
just as it belongs to me
we are bound and chain
connected spiritually
Miracle of creation
Connects where unexpected explanation
Can leave riot-ous hell-cats, pious zealots and ill and grim pilgrims...
without a blessed statement!
Perhaps we were all woven from the stream
Awoken from the Weaver's reams
Spoken into being for no reason
But to be sleeping back to dreaming?
blurring that fine line
of slave/master
internal chaos creating
a beautiful disaster
And in every ream from daily scenes
Recombines in minds set to dream
To refill the stream
Headfuls... turning into vessels... wrestled
in place by souls set to roll, spilling grace
hurrying past time, blurring that fine line
Between worries... and slooooow wine. A wave to
pass... no matter... in stasis, no slave or master
What won't lay off, pays off to matter
Chaos creating beautiful disaster
Dutiful like laughter for souls to blast gates past and stir!
a poetic storm
blowing winds of change
flooding cerebellums and
and reaking havoc on brains
each scripture is scribed
in my garden of zen
baptized in the eternal flames
of my enlightened pen
Ooooh, a seedy - grafiitii stream when one feeds from so many brooks... filling the drops into hooks and not stopping but letting it all cook...
Unto a boil for the brain's toil to remain loyal and feed such reams back into the stream, back into the omni-dream... coasting back into the ocean.
A habit to toast on every refrain. I have to... to ease the havoc in my brain.
Baptised as well in eternal flames
Of remembering the burning faces
And still tendering their names
my golden compass to navigate
the labarynth within
these twisted thoughts bled
by wounded whipped skin
embroidered flesh read
line by line like braile
u will feel wat u dont see, wont hear
the wind gushing in my sails
Past a tapestry of sin, a labrynth within, pops off of infinite stories chopped too early, dropped and recropped...
Squirelly and emboldened with gmption and ruckus...
'Cause Loki never held a Golden Compass...
Past that glimpse my labrynth?
Was in following the scent of the dead.
What was sent ahead.
Dissent in history? Well, it was made vicious. Like Daedelus. Following his thread.
Would've been alot easier for my head...
If they'd left ME some yarn.
'Stead of just a warning "Don't. Roll. On."
But no worries, I just learned to get gutter-wise and squirrelly.
What was real set me free, feeling what I couldn't see
u will feel wat u dont see, wont hear
the wind gushing in my sails
Trusting in busting out of that jail.
And behold a whole new world to win!
A whirlwind of words to unfurl and set free
And fear no shard like Kierkegaard...
But match his fate and own it some!
my passionate pandemonium
touching down like a tsunami
twist and fold up words
like its poetic origami
a gifted twister
yea im a twisted sister
Scamper and make this,
Your verse hankers my feet to take a trip
A dare this pirate rake flips!
But like Twisted Sister
WE'RE NOT GONNA TAKE THIS!
a tranquil wildchild
a psychodelic ink elixer
Poem zones down yet to Joan Jett
Retiming and spacing quick with Grace Slick
A Jet to Jefferson Airplane verbal trick?
i mastered linguistics
so i switched to phonics
digitally remastered INK
into high def ebonics
Aw, screw all that slang, but you had me at this Wu Tang feel again!
for "I am Captain of my ship
Master of my destiny"
i am a slave to my ink
but it is mastered by ME
While I normally track lines and naturally form backrhymes
Your burning flow blurred those tracks like Cyrano de Bergerac shutting down the competition plenty fast in the first half of his twenty tracks!
Your rhythm is tight. Your chops set up with emotion and expectation.
And then drop letting the audience coast down to your station.
A good audio hypno- re-location
Talent you balance in this creation.
It's a major throne you've created in your dome. A Charles Xavier zone to make each layer hold the reader...
By the hopes and ears.
And rope their fears.
Firesprayer. Prisonbreaker. Desire to say the blur? Is a vision to make me stir.
The schooner you constructed? The zoome for sure, schooner for an ocean of dreams?
Upon this loon's inspection it speaks as a single piece, utterly without seams!
7th Mar 2013 10:15pm
