8 replies to this topic

[osakaki]

Have some stuff to read.

To Love Someone

To love someone is the greatest gift,
Or the greatest agony...

We would last forever when we kissed
You were my game I could always win
Your hair warmed me like nothing else could
But now cold night creeps over my skin

Your voice sang promises of devotion
Your eyes showed the sparkles of love
Your face expressed the deepest of feeling,
But now blackness falls down from above

Why have you run away from me,
The most beautiful one to my eyes?
Your picture is all I have left
With each glance a part of me dies

Every hour my mind is your playground
You dance back and forth in my head
Your laugh makes my smile so cheshire,
But I feel like I'm better off dead

Your embrace makes me feel like I'm wanted
Your stunning kiss drives my doubt away
Your body brings pleasure forever,
But all must end and it ends today

Why have you run away from me,
The most beautiful one to my eyes?
Your picture is all I have left
With each glance a part of me dies

My eyes cannot help but seek you out
I cannot help but avert my gaze
My body cannot help but want your touch
I cannot help but avoid your ways

Why have you run away from me,
The most beautiful one to my eyes?
Your picture is all I have left
With each glance a part of me dies

My Marshmallow Story

Dear gentle readers,

Life is a mystery. It's a blessing in disguise. It's also crazy and strange. Tonight, I will tell a tale of an experience that I must have repressed out of embarassment, because I didn't remember it until a chance brain wave last eve.

I was almost killed by a marshmallow.

At the tender age of ten years young (approximated, for I do not remember specifically the year), I was preparing for a summer afternoon bonfire with my parents. We had purchased comestibles such as hot dogs and jumbo marshmallows to puncture with sticks and roast over the fire. I was an excited young lad at this prospect. While in the backyard with my mother, we broke open the bag of jumbo marshmallows eagerly, and I decided to sample the raw merchandise. I gulped with aplomb at the pillowy, sugary goodness. In point of fact, I practically inhaled this marshmallow. But not practically, actually. I inhaled the jumbo marshmallow so quickly that it bypassed my teeth and tongue entirely and made its home just behind my uvula. Well, my throat's odd couple, the esophagus and trachea, did not like this new living arrangement. In fact, they threatened to cut me off. And they did. And I started to choke. And it was not good.

My mother noticed the rebellion my body was having against the intruder, and, as mothers do, she knew what was wrong and how to fix it. And I was Heimliched back to safety, while the evil (and now soggy) marshmallow found its new home in the grass. Luckily, I was only choking for a few seconds, but it still was quite disturbing. So disturbing in fact, that I waited a whole minute before eating another marshmallow. But I learned my lesson. I made sure to chew extra carefully.

So, ladies and gentlemen, there are lots of serious problems in life. You may find yourself facing one or several now or in the future. In fact, you can depend on it. But, as you have read this tale of ... something, you will be better off, because, you can face your problems with confidence, knowing that it could be much, much worse...

You could be killed by a marshmallow.

Untitled

Chill the night air and make me feel again
My troubles run out the door
Pinpricks against the skin and fingers in the ribs
Draw the line between live and dead
Friends forget my name and friends forget my pain
Friends question the essence of me
Evil is a concept, people are selfish
Crack my spine and make me feel again


The Cycle of Music

Conventional card-carrying crackheads cry,
Destroying dramamine dreams, drinking dry drops of
Ether, entertaining everybody extraordinarily,
Falling face-flat, floors fly, fantasies of
Gray goblins grabbing groins greedily,
Aural apprentices author amazing alliterations of
Beauty, bringing big business bastards brandishing ballpoints.

Edited by osakaki, 27 April 2014 - 09:29 AM.

[osakaki]

More things:

 

Rusted

 

As long as I can handle it,

the confines of my white-walled room

are home. I feel the cold rain drip down on my forehead

From a crack in the ceiling as I try to feel sorry for myself.

My motivation dies like a fire that was started at

the bottom of a waterfall.

I have no priority now.

 

My home lasts as long as I do not leave.

I shield myself from the cold ignorance

of the outside world, the society that must

look like a tribe of Aboriginies that seem to have

found themselves on the wrong continent.

 

Alone as it's safe

I welcome the dust that settles over me as I relax on my freezing bed

and think of grander times, when folk could talk

to each other without ulterior motives of power and money.

Watching the time sprint past, trying to make its deadline,

I let it all go without even waving goodbye.

 

My home lasts for as long as I need it,

until I have courage enough to take on the world,

although I fight the world with a dull pencil, and it attacks me with

the world.

I choose instead to stay at home, and bait someone to come

in after me. I try to set a trap, but I am rusty from too much

inactivity. Bones creak and old memories ache as the people

run away from me, my face twisted into what could be a new

type of hideous tie knot.

 

Silence falls upon my home as I go back to my bed of ice,

frowning as its jagged surface pokes me.

 

Freestyle XVII

 

I got raps of great significance
Keep ya away all day
another day to say you can't get with this
Flow like a healthy artery
Extra rhymes in the armory
To shoot down those that wish harm to me
Got MCs off the stage
workin' for minimum wage
cleanin' out the monkey cage
at the local zoo,
Like the Great Gazoo
I be grantin' wishes
But they always turn out vicious
Like Red Delicious
I'm the tastiest
rapper ever to hit the fruit stand
Pastiest
white boy ever to rap so grand
Understand
that I got a four-year plan
First this Block and then the world
Gonna give every girl a necklace pearled
Funkmaster like Toejam and Earl
Got ya huddlin' in groups like schoolgirls
Got ya chatterin' like squirrels
Tryin' to find a way to defeat me
Can't beat me, unseat me

Like Ichiro I be beatin' out hits
Rappin' so colorful I give epileptics fits
Give ya diarrhea give ya the septic shits
Come relentless till even the worst skeptic quits
No MCs able to match my wits
ya can't contain the insane brain o' da main man
Me
my domain maintains disdain for lamebrain campaigns
that just give me a migraine
How do I restrain from leavin blood-stains on your clothes
Nobody knows
aw fuck it, your flow blows

Edited by osakaki, 30 April 2014 - 11:19 PM.

[Midnightcat]

My marshmallow story could really end up in 1000 ways to die. LOL (no offence intended)

But that aside i really like "Rusted".it gives off a feeling of being a loner.

[osakaki]

My marshmallow story could really end up in 1000 ways to die. LOL (no offence intended)

But that aside i really like "Rusted".it gives off a feeling of being a loner.

Thank you!  And yes, I was a lucky little boy...

 

a couple more

 

 

 

The Love of the Butterfly

 

Floating in the pillowy haze of a tired thought,

I cannot help but feel the gouges of my flesh,
the ache of bone that has taken too much.

I am ready to lose myself in it forever,
to drift away and be a distant mystery to the future,
but the love of the butterfly brings me back.

The haze rushes around me, filling my ears with
thirty airplanes upon takeoff, destroying the honing sense
I have adapted for such frequent flyer departures.

I can find no way out that will save me from this,
my precious sense lost in this maddening devolvement of life,
but the love of the butterfly guides me through.

The haze thickens in my eyes, blocking vision and breaking
up all pathways I had known, rendering knowledge useless
like the shriveled wings I thought I had kept.

I can see nothing but the glittering, jeweled daggers,
for they are waiting to pierce me at every turn,
but the love of the butterfly illuminates the way.

The haze burns with ice, numbing my skin and sending
me into paroxysms, obliterating my sense of direction
that had been nurtured for decades on twisting roads.

I have nothing left in me that can sense the right way,
and the haze thinks it has me, but no, it does not,
for the love of the butterfly envelops me in warmth and takes me home.

 

Restless

 

Pardon me while I disregard rational thought and go on a journey. This journey is to nowhere in particular, but it's of the utmost importance. I'll fly first-class to reach destination unknown. I'll force the plane to stop and everyone aboard to smell the daisies, even if there's no daisies blooming, even if it's the middle of winter, even if everybody's nose is stuffed up, even if we're in the middle of the ocean. There are some goddamned daisies. I'll force everyone to become artists for art's sake, then try to take it back when I'm surpassed a thousand-fold. We have reached our destination: sunny me. Wait, where's the sun? Hidden behind the clouds of self-doubt, once again. Forecasts call for light and steady showers with a chance of sun later on. Fuck that, I'm here now. I don't want a chance of sun later on, I want sun right now. I want water-boiling, earth-scorching sun, delivered to me on a silver platter by Tupac fucking Shakur. Yeah, I know he's "dead," but he's still making albums. And people are still buying them. They're endorsed by popular culture! Popular culture is the culture to end all culture, it seems. I mean, it's not important to discern whether you like something, right? As long as it makes you have a higher social standing, where you can soon gain access to more money and power. Because money and power is the American way! Who gives a fuck about your fellow man when you can use that loophole to sue him and make seven digits! BECAUSE IT'S JUST THAT FUCKING EASY. The showers have begun, I see. This me wasn't what I saw in my travel agent's guidebook. Maybe I can sue her and make back my flight fare and a few thousand for punitive damages for fraud. This me isn't the me everyone talks about. This me is just a rainy, stormy barren piece of rock with no real-estate possibilities, no tourist attractions, and for fuck's sake, no complementary bottles of water? Get me back to America, where I can buy and fuck anyone!

The natives peek out. Now that that guy is gone, they can show the real charms of me to the people who took an extra second to stick around and maybe learn something. Hey, me isn't so bad after all. After the rain, there's a charming warmth that spreads like wildfire, infecting everyone that feels it. There's a hot spot or two where people can be entertained for hours. I think they said something about this in the brochure, but damned if it doesn't take a little while to discover, does it Mabel? Maybe there's a place for people to be in me after all, I find. If they spend the time to find it, I can be a pretty hospitable locale. So as I get back on the plane that will shuttle me away from me, I take the time to thank those silly few that didn't want to rule over all who oppose, or even those who agree, too. Those silly few that took the time to discover those little hidden spots that are superb, that make people come back to me. It's those silly few that are writing those brochures, and those silly few that are making me a haven for like-minded people that want to connect. Pretty soon me will even be an underground sensation, suddenly courted and buzzed about by those who wish to buy and fuck their fellow man. And suddenly, me will be pushed to the limelight, ready to join popular culture. And me will collectively say, fuck you.

 

Lines

 

Lines;
Both grandiose and miniscule swirlings,
converging to craft abstractions
An ordered set for a disordered appetite whet
Disorder
Discord
Recorder
Revolver;
Solution for the destitute
Misunderstood by everyone, but only by myself
Shelves of paper scraps, filled by misled maps
Misled
Misread
Retread
Retry;
A golden grumble that most never make
The world comes in new colors
More joyful is the day with a reprieve on display
Reprieve
Retrieve
Disbelieve
Disagree;
Sense is broken like another weak heart,
but clear are the workings of abstractions again
A disordered set that makes the composed sweat
Compose
Combine
Align
Lines

Edited by osakaki, 30 April 2014 - 11:19 PM.

[osakaki]

Untitled

 

I want to live! I want to cheer on the world without it dumping me for a goddamn football player. I want to taste the experience of the tallest mountains, because it must taste like chicken. Sweet, sweet life, dipped in chocolate. Wound around with sugar coating and baked at 350 degrees F. A confection for an erection. The brain-dead masses can only sit and squirm as I declare total victory, because the terms are mine and mine alone! That'll show them! Fuck the people that can't grasp the truth so simple that it lies forgotten in third-grade history books! They can't know what I know. They can't fear and love the world with such intensity. They can't divine the easy wisdom in a raised eyebrow. I will take hold of the universe and make it mine. I will fold it into a paper airplane and sail it out the window of time. I'll do what I please, because I am me and can do so. I won't do what you please, because I can never fully know it. I can approximate and shift accordingly. But I will only do so when it lines up with my ideals. I will comfort every single person on the planet if necessary. I will look after everybody that needs a friend, dangle their fears from the window, and threaten to let go. I will jump-start the world, person by person. They will not know what hit them, but they will know that it is good. I will rule all with an iron fist made of plush. I will give it all up while still retaining control. I will fall in love recklessly and leave tire marks all over my heart. I will hate with pure pleasure, but never directed. Abstract hate is the virtue of the moment. People are love, organization is hate. Dissuade the masses from adopting another sweetheart and instead look to the frayed edges of humanity for your saviors, you goddamned idolaters. Take your reality TV and go back to Transylvania, move back in with Uncle Vlad, and start a blood factory, you dullard! If you're going to waste a brain, make it somebody else's. Use yours to invent new words and be a general delight. Be a festering pimple on the back of humdrummery. Fight your battles in the backseats of cars at night, on the beds of teenagers, in the showers of humanity, not in wide fields where blood can pool and kill the grass. What did the grass ever do? Save the world, one person at a time.

 

Universe Extension

 

A cry of loneliness heard naught but by one who will never answer
A scratch at the face of the fates
A teardrop falls with the force of a wrecking ball
An epiphany reveals the truth that fought and died a hopeless war

There is nothing more, the sweetest pain of all
Descend into the darkness of the imagination
Fight the creatures that mumble and moan within, then
Forget the crippled-bird anguish and live another day

A cry of loneliness heard naught but by two who will never answer
A dart in the body of desire
A teardrop falls and dooms the world
A confirmation reveals the truth that rests peacefully at the foot of the bed

There is nothing more, the sweetest pain of all
Descend into the darkness of the septic non-reality
Fight the nausea that threatens to consume, then
Forget the broken-neck anguish and live another day

A cry of loneliness heard naught
A knife in the back of a corpse
A teardrop falls harmlessly to the concrete
A strengthing of the theory reveals all is as it should be

There is nothing more, the sweetest pain of all
Descend into the darkness of eternity
Fight all, because it is all, then
Forget it all and live another day

[osakaki]

The Autumn Season

The merciless march of time
cools the climate considerably
Icy hands reach for summer life; a vicious assault
Forests of naive green discolor,
die, rot away, the green lurking
in the eyes of winter, the only surviving shade

A choking, bitter wind blows away the evidence,
a yearly genocide that signals once again
the reign of brutality that looms a short walk down the path.

 

 

Mute

 

A sea of silence washes over me as I sound out

The green waves crush me against the rocky shoreline of ignorance,

Ripping my body into four pieces. I shout as the pain

grabs me by the ankles and throws me into a brick wall.

 

Nobody pricks their ears to my sound, passing it off

as background noise. I scream with more volume,

shredding my vocal cords like an old sock being torn

apart by a rabid bulldog. No reply.

 

Silence falls on the area like a light snowstorm,

muting the slightest peep from anyone who could care.

I drift off to sleep with the jagged spike of hate imprinted

into my mind, the frustration boiling deep in my heart.

 

I awake to another day of silence,

my tongue cut out by the pressure of conversation.

[osakaki]

Verse for the Vital

Alone in a crowded room,
Seeing, hearing, feeling, but not understanding
A muted, cut sentence escapes from cracked lips
The sound camouflages itself against the aural wave
that pulses off the freshly painted, off-white walls
and is forever forgotten
An extra attempt to generate attention would only aver
the obvious: No souls are interested.

Alone in an empty room,
Formulating, wondering, crying, but not understanding
Too many possibilities bombard brain matter,
but none seem to fit either the missing pieces of
the questions nor the jagged, rough section
ripped away from the heart
Any more solitary cogitations will only increase
the pain of the only conclusion left: Nobody cares.

Alone in a mass grave,
breathing, struggling, living, but not understanding
The last self-delusions vanish from an exposed, misshapen heart
A flight that leaves the void soon to be filled with truth,
an intercourse that will bring deep-blood stabs of pain, but will heal
in time, as all things do
Any false idols or weak-willed mind games will only dilute
the potent lesson learned: I care.

 

 

 

Whilst the World Plays Checkers

I tumbled down today
Broke through the pavement to the world below
I kept on falling
Through the dirt and through the fire
and through the molten glow

I choked my love today
Squeezed my hands together and saved my heart
I kept on killing
Not fearing reprisal and needing a change
and tearing everything apart

I ended my world today
Tore my brain out my head so I could stay
I kept on forgetting
Yelled and screamed and kicked and punched
and threw my life away

I'll find hope tomorrow
To gaze in the eyes of another and feel again
I'll keep on loving
The swooping stomach and heartfire shall return
and bind me to my skin.

[osakaki]

Letting the Words Flow

(2003)

 

The unknown melancholy looms yet again. It drapes itself over me, a blanket left out in the snow, covering and chilling me completely. A reason to feel sad is not found, yet I already know why. Every day seems to be the same. Go to work, come home. Or maybe just stay home. I go out to stores, but it's always alone. The few moments of friendship and/or affection I do share with someone are few and far between, and they're starting to make me obsess. I'm starting to lose some control of myself. It's a terrible feeling, not being in control of your emotions. For one who feels the need to be in constant control of himself, it's damn frightening. There's no escaping it tonight. The distractions are far away from my mind. The people are unreachable. The company I keep tonight is my own fractured mindset, a hated, familiar companion. There is love, there, too. As a wise man once said, you see everything so clearly in this state of mind. It's liberating. It's peaceful in its quiet agony.

I don't feel this way, but I do tonight. It will pass after sleep, for it always does. It comes quickly and leaves in the morning, like a distant and uncaring lover. It's nothing but a speed bump along the way. Unfortunately, I always hit my head on the ceiling each time.

 

 

 

Freestyle Rap Volume XV

 

I be back again from a midnight expedition

Rappin' hardcore like I was cast into perdition
Pissin'
on your weak words
Meal for the birds
You been goin to classes, alright
Now to see what you done learned tonight:
"a b c d e f G
h i j k lmno P
q r s t u V
w x y and Z
Now I know my ABCs
Won't you come and rap with me"

I'm the rap necromancer
Raisin' the dead as my answer
on Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer and Vixen
Find Santa more ho-ho-hos for deep dickin'
Betwixt 'n' between
smackin' rappers like poteen
Leavin' em fucked up with faces deep green
Keen sight keeps me alive
My raps got the jive
Glory be, the funk's on me
Slogan's cute but fuck you Nike
Before my raps even giant corporations flee

My mind surprises with five new rhymes in a second's time
derive crimes and connive, contrive another set of rhymes
while you're gaping like a mime
I deprive
all of a possible victory
Just candle wicks to me
Put 'em out one by one
Ruining your fun
Got y'all praisin' like nuns
Cuz I'm the victor before I'm even done

[Emerald39]

These are all absolutely brilliant; have you ever considered becoming a poet or an author?