„Are you Sirius?”

1.

People go ballistic on something about, just because I care;

some crazy shout, an angry smurf pouts to blow my stack –

as though it's made of straw. My housing is sound, including the roof.

Don't have to be George Clooney, to drink your coffee and call it sour.

No need to marry me and rue. Yes I'm Sirius, my last name is Black!

Your eyes will be, and heaven-blue if you don't get off my case asap!!

Still got no clue, there the offer came to my coffer on my woof.

Have no show for any cur what trespasses on my curfew to loose fur…

2.

I'm Sirius because, I'm spaced out, while being sensed commonly.

No need to intense the bravado with your nindo like you do – I don't!

Won't you get off my case and face some other rivers that crossed your mind.

I am “Defind” to define the aching tooth and find your funny bone;

to fight back the grayhound of dull Mondays on grind to show off on that bind!

When I do, let's not get married cause you'll loose me at the first donkey.

You know – don't push this shiny red button kind of wee, I don't wanna be.

I'm not going there, because I'm ruling there and sending a postcard here…

3.

For it spells doom, if I cannot boom your gloomy nature with some nurtured

impending bloomers, who vowed to stay true, but missed the spot, mate turd.

That's you call mature, if you follow your inner nature and chur your wazzup

waxing on the vexed sex what got folks perplexed hexing the snitch into dust.

I'm hungry, and the sandwich was dodgy, so I'm hoping the mushrooms taste betters!

Catering the jet-setters to gather around the table to Ouija the bruised blue jar;

what was leaking manna, and I thought I'm in Heaven – but you can't have manna

on Saturday! It really sucked, so I threw it away and dismayed the others says.

4.

Savage is my aptitude; ligature my way of life. To ill the farewells;

so you may chill and have a pill on sarcasm if you don't – I will, shant thee?

So you may forget your “Hells” and “Damns” in here, mayday the fowl says;

Fowler the wrinkles out of your play-set to be happy and not upset over checkers

and take that… I think I bit my cat. And my tongue caught a robber; after

I was reeking of Jim Beam and went out fishing but came home empty so…

You gotta catch something, even if it's the flu! A friend of mine caught

his wife cheating. Now that was a terrible catch indeed… She was 68!

5.

So anyway, how to say and verbalize my highway to find yours.

It scours to do chores but for mores, an ass is better than snores of Sonnets

to score then you cannot read nor understand Chinease to do overboars.

You know those nasty critters (whores), who jump around the commercials;

when a content creator became a creature, and lost his soul to the feature.

Compliance to a voluptuous borgasm of formality is not an option.

I want the real thing and not some gummy-bear fun on my ears bores.

And the show is not going on, because somebody flagged it! Why?? sobs

6.

I'm still Sirius, but had to change my name into something… stronger;

faster; better… what would really state my stand and grandeur with steadfast

vigor and rigorous might; hold the banner of funny upright, to be shunny

on your forlorn chin, what got cake on and no smily. Still its sexy to be

beguiling you out of depression, lets recession the rehearsal to reverse

the nurse, who was Joker, but not on my watch I got willed by Baywatch!

Batman also wanted a take on this, so I had to agree on the homage:

I'm at home on my own image, to mage my rage into sage smells on stage!

Mirror Force

Enforce your endorsed thoughts for a chosen remorse what codes some morse; but no cryptic letters to be runed to death. Luring Georg Lurich into the abyss like its Zürich too rich is a glitch and too poor is a bogged moor. Expectations spectate your spies into envisions of species off topic and too many of some kind. My none of a kind had a small blind and favored the murky Savior of Diablo, stabbing my forehead with the horn and be done with it...

Glimpsing, who is more chosen on this realm than "Showtight" - the cases are closed and not upon debate. Still reprobating the race-bated hearings what got figurescated into ice on steel. Diamonds there supposed to be the best friends, yet nobody loves the dentist, when he pokes your tooth with an encrusted stick... So wicked to even fidget that! Wanting to be best without effort walnutritioning the sentiments of stalemates put up on rent. Its all kinds of evil malevolencing the movements commenced in a grin...

We expect to others fair as our vanity dost not. Enchained in the ivory tower of a black horse, gifted to us by a blind Greek merchant, who was too deep a geek, to be turned town; or simply a vagabond and under the protection of Darwin. Or was that Green Peace what endangered some deranged angerments into a mouthpiece? I deface the image of self and see - it's not what I mean on lease to release the bloodhounds; underground the scapegoats and grease, what saw too much opera while eating soap.

The Ore was melting my thoughts and I despaired some sunglasses from a tar-pit, darting fake-dates and outsmarting back-drafted side-winds over the rainbow and piggyback; fools-scolding the oldies that dared to be not grumpy enough. Enoch emoted eunuchs, who didn't feel rough to cough up gouged eyes engorged to the cosine sign and be fine! I filed it under Blair to bewitch the bewildered me with a new form of abstraction, what in terms was subtraction with a supposition of interaction correlated with stagnated fraction!

The exclamation mark barked under my navel and I gazed upon him, like he had done wrong. Again! Why is he wetting inside my slippers and not on the newspapers I put on the right spot? And the stench every time, it rains and my friends bring home their thunder... I just wish Asclepius would cleptomanicly regress it out of my premise! The doggy want's to go home, and I'm alone in myself to do his bidding and roam free. To and through, like the devil without horns ans shouts. Some mistletoe's toe trucked my nip-tucked tit fucked horse shoe sized toes out of Grace Kelly's shows!

At least the thought counts, discounting all the times Sundays made me vengeful, not because of work; a fork in the road was far more menacing emancipating the fancy of Tom Clancy going postal on chance. A sling-shot of dubious people, who don't know how hard is to bodyguard malls and appalled security laws. I must bestow the best owned cow what mowed the lawn faster than the mayor could steal the show… It was hilarious in slow-motion, I was robo-dripping til August met woke September and I wore bluejeans… My Avatar had some bruises as he met some betters and had to address shortcomings...

Cutting bosses from the hilt is not an easy task to operate, incorporating the unrated treats of outdated defeats into victories what never really posed a chance to meek. Wreaking havoc on the feels I reek. Reaping the rewards what nobody would show on to betroth the silent threats under the carpet. It was too dutch and was flying around anyway, so what gives! The chemical compound was too well Christianized too lubricate brigands and Hula hoops who thought too much Gandalf and Al Bundy goofs to have a roof on top of their head as their left the shirt on. And the bread on the table was black!

Offense

Behind the fence of my pants I pant;

the don't and can't is making me saint…

Being the oral conscience, while my deeds wilt like roses;

stinking more than smoked socks strike resemblance!

I drink whiskey on the rocks – no, that's my pretense with cola;

got no drivers license for lack of attention and cocks.

Still licensed to kill with my comments tormenting the commons;

commending the comas while beheading the dot's on the I…

I rend the spirit of some other whiteboard cards

what got screeched on my ears. Black-boarding the soot

as though it was black salt or sugar. And tar, as cough-drops;

dropping the beat of dripping paint on the window dressing,

what got broadcast on air for the picket fence and housings…

The parchment of my apartment didn't contest your tooth nor bent

hell into a bow to rain some may have been and seemingly well's!

I didn't know how to sell it – so I went back to my anon grind…

Dye-versing the parceled diversions under my umbrella;

as anvils and veni vidi vici are hurled around the clock…

Pulling down my socks, being naked under my contempt;

smothered by the gasps of mortality, dwarfed with bigoted shouts,

how to think fast and furious, but without a scowl back…

I regress the mare of being wet while dry on Martiny;

buttoning the shirt on the neck but leaving the zipper open…

How many laps there relapsed in this absent minded caps – fill in the flanks?

Blanking the armies, what never assaulted nor there drafted;

scripting con-artists conscience to coincide with incense.

To dank memes of never happened shadow boxing dreams;

surrounded by puppets and pet dragons who think like their rats.

Some ants there supporting white elephants in the mirror shop

accusing the owner of seven years of cheating by spouce while never married!

It carried on with its sully to weary the vultures without spicy tastes.

I created some hasty feasts O.D distastes, tracing back my lace on thy embrace!

Embering my race of fastest stun in the crest to have my blue ribbon;

as I nibble away all common sense to be special in my prevents.

Venting the valve of my cloaked obstructed content from the abyss.

Creeping closer evermisting the words, like a chain-smoker cancers lungs.

Evengreen in my eventful scenes I flash forward, skipping the morrow

envy and yesterdays memories, to start from a blank check, what don't jump!

Didn't got enough stocks – still expecting to birth my jackpot and it's overdue

9 months became 9 years and still no happy ending. So what else is lending?

Get off or ense, I dispense some glance of third parties impaired stance

what moral-mortified some hard-boiled egg-shells, break the mouth-full

jaws of a shark merged with a clown. It was horrible! Just like Vizzerdrix;

and I was just out of netflicks to give a damn on my Pacman turned to baguette.

Bistro's are so multo bene when they serve pizza; while buy-in the coffee

from the washing machine and expecting it be ice-cold! I was old enough

to know, how to scold some embroiled emboldened tensions at your tenants

expense, for their there too much elephant and too little ant...

Migraine

Mig's rained down fire from Heaven; Hell turned out accommodating and unleashed its fury; migrating into cold fusion state I auspices my acknowledgments, envisioning a date with a harpy dressed like a Gypsy queen and smelling of Mojito's and bubblegum. My ear-drums played a tune I last heard in Hotel California, what brought back memories I soon forgot to despair...

This succubus was quite entertaining, taming my under-tale thoughts of lonely holiness into hardened insatiable lust and want to dominate and own. On my own I was one with the pain; thrilled about my intolerable weakness and amusing ignorance. Didn't know which truth or dare should I first pay my homage, with a little of attention. Into the abyss was a great fall making me reach...

It felt like glimpsing cherry petals turn to red maple leaves, while the spring was still sprouting. And yet is was winter and it came summer – all consecutively at the same time and meaning… I was the fire in Heaven and I was the fury in Hell; I was the Earth raped and scoured; I was the water evaporating in the heat, like good people shutting up and leaving in terror.

The harpy was 14 and I was not yet born – stuck in her womb like Jesus for 3 days; The dismay was killing me senseless. I didn't knot where to swear the gears what? Triggered by happy thoughts what went sour, for too much lemon in my Earl Gray. And the limonchello had worn out and turned to vinegar for too much air and lack of cellars.

Being too open-minded can't be that good as I first meditated, when opening up to the solution. The dimsday was dooming the lights as I opened my eyes. Backward hind-sights there forwarded to the letter and I had to see the feather what wrote it spat out the bird who wore it… I was whoring some more til the core of truth was released from the bonds of tradition.

Transitioning from frog-mouthed princes who kissed trolls who turned to Ghouls and Banshees; Bakaraa was played at the Back-gammon table while the dogs where whistling on almond trees. The pigs there riding Red Riding Hood who was dressed like Hob-Goblin from Spiderman; I didn't know I would fam it... All was too much or too little or too nothing to mention!

Controlling my breathe, I surmised that I was not asleep. It rained knives and desperate housewives married to 2 and a half men re-edited to Letterman show format. I had to vomit but was out of liquid. The ink was also emptied in my pot and I had to fold my hand. Can't beat nothing with a full house – was too nice of a guy for that. Besides, the river changed everything so I wouldn't have liked the bad beat!

I was sweating bullets and spouting nonsense – in the end it made a lot of sense, I didn't see while the words there still worn on my lips. I felt torn apart and put together, like Picasso's late night dream. She still seemed to wear me like a necklace and I lost my count on the third Ave Maria. Te Deum and Gloria there not mentioned, stationed in between recession and sanctification...

Alas the maddened glee! It gave up on me and I went to my true north abandoning south and the west! The east was hospitable enough to cover my expanses so I had a little chat with Kitsune Hime. We buried our hearts in Aokigahara and our souls in Nagasaki remenescing the dead brothers and sisters, who never went home. My knees there wounded at Tšernobõl and my throat was slit at Salem.

I was friends with the dirt, while Solsenitsõn was eating it and Tolstoi was ranting like Nebuchadnezzar. The hunger had left my guts and I was filled, navel-gazing the sun how it was still shining inside earth; while molten iron had filled the universe and taken its place. I still befriended the dirt and was empty – invisible in my ongoing journey; invincible in my lust to continue the vision. And my head ache!

Cup of T

Have some cup of tea, but how could that be;
the first thing you need is put second - its thirst!
That's what you deem. No want makes wanton
and spill your coffee. To have your tea, your cup
must be sizable, but empty. Dare the Truth with me!

Have some cup of tea, but how'd you drink bricks?
If your cup is so full that not even your fist fits in;
how to pour some sour and salty thoughts into you!
How to change your taste, if you seek none indeed;
Is it T or B or C - will it follow my lead or return to led.

Have some cup of tea, and don't opt to snicker
hunger while not being hungry, or thirst while not thirsty.
If you're not blind you don't look for glasses;
If you're not old, you don't look for a cane.
Admit to yourself if there is something you'll need...

Have some cup of tea, perplexed shall not be;
don't expect to find awesome or special in here.
Feel free and enjoy - that's all stuff you'll need!
He who hungers and thirsts shall be fulfilled;
others mayday the rued mayhammered glee...

Pending

I'm at my idle place now. Harrowing placid with my eyelids racid of all the possible acids I could have accidentally dented my life in. I must have a sin. Or a nimbus – not 2000. Credit due, pending... depending on my mood, I could write some dope shit about anything, I could care a shout. Or stout my ass to frown on some half-empty glass what got broken. I'm so full of myself – enough to be banking my stocks and sell short. Still not shorty like Tyrion, while holding him in greatest regards! How you pull such a mighty giant role, while being a mouse. That is true greatness, not being big as Godzilla, to be the natural born killer – or Sam Hein or Stan; there's better things to do, then you know you can! I know it's not trending to be like that.

I'm fending some crows away from my carrion carcas what means to canvas Barabas next to Jesus and carry on. No hard feelings, to be leaning too far out of the window, as the train is missing the action. Why did they choose thus? Alas! My mind is abstraction mixed with subordinate feelings extraordinarily dreaming – believing, that men could exert more kindness and true value, than poets could ever fathom! The venue of revenue of a given tenured avenue was endured to menu in some other schedule... credit due! But still, why did they do that?? What has a street-mugger, what a preacher don't got? Just because; common foes, that Jews kill Romans; Romans kill Jews – Jesus asked to love them, so die bitch? IDK… That goes... let's just eat at Joe's and get along, that is better than a throng of bullets in my head or yours!

It scours my thoughts to be betters but for naught - each time we talk with nobody we mean everything and nothing gets exaggerated to unrelated correlated coke-dreams to not know what nobody means. Nobody wants to be somebody, and not just any body, what got tossed under the bus or train, could it be any more plain and simple or is it a pimple. To pimp my mind into an L statue of virtue to spell "Loot" the main root of being evil and rood, the reason money talks and makes us brood to be vile and not good! Revile the vipers who vituperate the operations to ratio the rate of some given treat on stage - calling it HATE. Well, Watergate! Calling it hate, if you show tough love and speak up your mind. Fair use left falling behind...

I get my hinges cringing and be out of fringes. I know I should think outside the box, but that ain't closing office... I'm closing in on my cross-hair, then some asshole crossed my hair with his head-but and I asked him to fuck-off, because giving fucks was not my m.o. I would fuck on if he'd be gone from my box-office. Orifice the shout-outs of stout boy-scouts who don't know how to hangout with their mom and dad is so sad! Having to be called by the phone and are like: "You summoned me!" and it's not even War Craft 2 what gets me so back; gored and blue. I want to marry Peggy-Sue, because of my too small shoe I got stuck in their stew, made out of straw-men and straw-hat what's up doctors and M.D's who should be K.O. for real!!

K.O. is my m.o. hay-oh have some ketchup on your mayo and catch up Ash from HOMM3 my homie and don't burn the fort. That would be nice and good sport. But the retort of Merriam-Websters resort helps me to short your snorting wordings into betters discords you could not believe are possible to be distorting. Sort this thing out to be shorty. Tyrion, the best star of the show, leaving many Lannisters without twinkle of a star to hide their bruised egos; scars. And some lost their hand, or was it the chosen lamb, or some others? I mar the shouts of martyrs on par who haven't been matured to venture into the real life of a singleton so far! It's not so hard to fold, if you're playing it on foreign gold or unreal currency and just a game: "Just saying it!"

When people never mean, when they've never been, then how could they dream or even gleam the feels? Slapping is deemed illegal, but spitting in the face anon style is ok. I think its OP and BS that this confess is more than excess of candid grimoire from the sisters Moira - no larp. not even 3L's or Larry Just I'm worried that justice is not done, then through political correctness the summer is almost gone! There are some hipsters, but no hippies; you can't call people gay, for being happy, cause it means now one thing! Reading "Gay Science", and you already have a sing, birdie? I hole in one you just for peeps; outgun you for the stampede you tried to run on me - fool. Nietzsche is better than laissez faire like vanity fair of a carnival of rust. That doesn't ease my pain but holds me in contempt and in vain – glimpsing your condoms!

In chains and entombed are my thoughts. Like a hairy bitch, who lost his comb and can't show himself to her customers to custard the retards some rewards, what the wardens of virtue could not spar. Spare me some change and your 10 cents to have a peace of your mind. Do you mind? I would be Happy in my Fairy tail! Or am I yanking your bull and you feel only shit? Your broken condoms in barbed wire make me mire that it can't end well what enters so deep and means hell... What business could it otherwise disguise to me, than be disgusted of others lives or some other theme... While not living yourself, shelving others into Dracula – lumped in for Bean! It be outstanding to be chanting shanty's of your enchanting demeanor if it was not haunting latrine's what you do and mean on the supreme leadership of public gossiping and deem.

Can you feel me?

Be nice to me and I got your back;
dis your family and you get me down.
How should a father get you back -
he's not your age nor from the same stack!
I loose my track when I see fams clown -
it's nice to see a dad hang out, like mind-blown...
never had that in my life - that's why it sucks!

Be nice to me and I hear you good;
I could be your partner in crime, do your time...
Just don't dis family, that is seriously uncool;
solve issues in private, don't drag them as junkfood!
Can you feel me on this, feel my skin, that would be fine.
I face nothing I don't have to, I'm like the river Nile;
appreciate what you got, that's the high mood!

Be nice to me and I shall feel your skin;
how you treat others, makes me know what you mean.
If you dis weaklings, to be mine: I know, you're in just for a win.
Your shit is not real, because you'd dis me if I'd fail and whim...
Pettigrew is not grown-up; petty things make me gleam
how your head would look on a spike and that is not mean.
Do me justice and be true to yourself - don't you ever grin!!

Who has ears to listen, here yea!

Give me your fuck-ups, give me your sins;
your woken mares and devil-made grins.
All the gossip and toil, the smacked down chins;
what others may hurled on you at their whim...

Give me your belittled names and battlefield tokens;
your sullen words and edgy ordains outspoken.
Give me everything you despair and more to be soaking;
once I was lost and needed Jesus and was broken.

I gave my heart up and called me a  damn friar;
seeing lies and deceit in every manner and higher...
Spit in my heart and shit in my soul nigher;
til all was used, I deemed mighty and Diviner!

To be with God, is to Hate ones self;
put all your sworn remedies against itself.
It's not success, nor wanton; lust health -
not gifts and merit, no chosen ones stealth!

If Jesus you want, be one with the dirt -
one for all; all for one, to shoulder others hurt.
Their tears are yours to grasp, your joy is theirs shirt
on theirs shoulders. If Hell tosses boulders you spurt...

Not for the faint of heart and Sunday sermons;
not for the merry go round but for vermin.
To be scoured by sun and ablaze by the churnings
what others may yearn on you while you're swirling...

Be the socket for others batteries, the warm blanket to cuddle;
far for your own needs, close to safeguard the fodder...
The welcome mat to accept the dirty footprints the complaints empty folder;
always the faceless last, who got forgotten to mention and was left yonder!

Be the torchlight, then others run through endless blight;
maybe yourself shaken and bruised, but alas, you're the kite!!
Don't break yet, but loose your self dearly. For the lost be upright
and true, for that is your chosen honor to keep the watch this night!

And if done is your deed, and ended your quest;
don't expect no payment, the journey was all the feast.
For if you ring the bell to get noticed, your deeds confessed;
what would you expect from your master to pay you the least?

Court-Jester

At my court-yard I discard, what to do with people who are outsmarter than my cart?
I award to the first person - fastest gun in the fest - to be better than the rest of baffle royal
I confess! This shooter is fourth person and not first, not even second or third, thus
unheared. A clever cleaver brokered a deal with a bieber to deflower a  forest of maidens!

Unhinge me some binge of ringing the bell and singe with your feet at my table as I fable
some good manners and glamour gossamer's gossips about whom else to ship. As I
worship the hip on my barrel-run flip. And dip my finger in water to soothe those in the pit!
My clip eclipsed the apogee at a glimpse. And was empty to rebuff my bluff with a scoff...

At the funeral of my scarf my loins had to barf. I parked my cards with the full deck-list
under my pillow, with some soothe sayings and a broken tooth. My bed was aching
and my head was spinning. Was on meditation and lost my happy thought out of math.
Unearthed was my staff from Grayscull at the planes of Montmartre gussing with Marat and Darth.

I was stabbed by my own back, tracking some back-packs what got bust while carrying contraband.
The Camel merged with Oboi and the tea was cooking. Smoking hot there the white russians;
as I drank my bottled waiter - what was older... which I cannot say about garcon! Man did he wait
with the bill and I had to make a killing with some deaf beats and eat my first I do's and wills...

Discording that Free Willy was neat at the abridged version by the Simpsons - it fell onto the kid
and Billy was flat as a pancake! I take, how many leagues to Hollywood, or is it dark in Schwartau
or is there an Extra or express-line to confine topless mercenaries are behind any middle-line.
I mine some ice in your best, minding your business is better than my jest to hung by the speck.

Forth-coming the comebacks of cunning into my jumping-jacks as I dick around the clock and
eat chips, what are too savage to get a last kick. My furious beast saw too much Californication
and put the roof on fire. It burned like neon-lights and I was silent to withstand the victory, what
resounded from the wallops, Hail-Mary's hallucinating Larry Quinn shipped with Hucklebetty Finn!

Just deserts deserted my certified receipts; heard about the manor what got busted-returned.
Was renting it from the vendor - indoors gloating about my famished splendor encored to Endor!
The trek was entering its price I could not believe it. Was so big, didn't know how to swallow.
My wallet did the mockingbird, and I had to do the empty-pocket dance, the bank didn't like...

Blow me

Are dragonflies dragons or flies? Are they having slippers or tights?
Do they buy ice-cream while eating mustard, or are they just nice?
Could they go to the opera and wash their dreams with shampoo
or don't they like soap? What do they drink - butterscotch or coke?

Blow me, blow my mind! Blow it up - childhood is one of a kind;
when you grow up, please do mind, that nothing is forever my child

Are the rocks also thinking and the trees? Are the waves weaving or not;
am I dreaming, when I go to bed or wake up? What is said - does it last
or goes away if I say: "To the ravens all sorrow and to the crows disease?"
Will it put me at ease, if I don't buy it but lease? Was it just or for appease?

Blow me, blow my mind! Blow it up - childhood is one of a kind;
when you grow up, please do mind, that nothing is forever my child

Are there more sides to the truth or just one side? Is there even One or many?

Are the multitudes outgunned? Manning the gates and fortresses - is there a side?

What is the answer when I leave something behind? Do I mind or am I kind?

Is silence better than shout-out what is right in time? What should I find under that sign?

I hate myself

I hate myself and I liked it. Spit into the mirror to follow the tears of
my teddy-bear and torn pillow. Edging around the mellow to be more
orange than black is yellow. Let's sell low to buy high and row the boat
to dull the gold in our copper-coins are always of a funny mold...

Same old,. poets are let to lead, like Amsterdam decreed - Ram is better
in my PC - I see you bought yours from the scene, to be real. But I seen
betters and that's why I button-raise your wild chase with my lazy daze.
Those crazy days as I remenesce about the dais be shorter than your gaze.

My mind went on a raze to be traced back to the fossils of half-life shell-shocked
tremors, remorcing reinforced concrete balls, what there washed on the shore...
There has been nothing more to encore of intent malicioning ammunitions like
nutrient-fusion attritions. Conditioning the tensions in diss and dat ass; I kiss myself pretty brass!

I cut my own-drawn red lines to be craven like whiteravens don't abide in the wilderness
without being the blind leader for with one eye you leave the others behind. As I shut my
blinds with loving-kindness and some interest in kind I raise my ass to your sign, but loaf
then you do the same at my grind. To expect perfection, non-plus-ultra Ad Hominem wild!

I do not mind to be insane, while getting out at end of the line, then the train got lost in action
and the tracks there missing a glimpse of lapses of judgement. I augment the fermented rent,
while the bent logic has always been bought by the hissing gray-scale faint, who didn't know
how chain-mail could be mana-leaked and bent. Contractions entering my syllables as I dictate!

Action must be taken, my hand is still talking and not married - so let's fap and be Ivory Maiden;
may then be the thieves den full of lions or vipers, it's still better than a glen full of suss dreams.
Maybe they shelves don't know what they mean. To be alone in the dark, while nothing begets all;
I'm hungry and craving for more sucking up on the late-night show at my convenience-store... bored

I adjure that this poetry is something of lore. To be one of knights and chivalry than D&D could
forebode into my rivalry, then I got into an argument with myself and took Me witness and at wits
end was just out of Godspeed and a good bless to play chess with some goosebumps I bumped into
my feared nightmares to dare a bunji-jump into hell and back, so the world would look like Heaven.

But it looks like Forest Gump merged together with Ben Tennissons granfathers gumbo. Eaten
by Kevin E. Levins smoking Levy's what there elevated to slaving with the same shit as the Gremlin
a nice kitten as a mogwai, but drank water and ate meat. And that's there the skeletons are barking
roast beef. I go deep with my greef as the scythe of Grim Reaper but without leaving adjourned four-leaves...

Save your breathe

1.
I might be boneless, homeless, dreamless, someone could own less -
a life full of mess; getting out of the great mall to build a wall in appall
another brick, what is looking for a judgment call - whether a window or door;
makes a widowed mind of custodians ask for mores...

2.
I might be frightened, tightened; full of awe, intimidated and smitten.
What could be my trend of pretend to your tent from love me tender
til some rend? Brand the blenders of Gents vs. Saints vs gend's Err...
What was that message and either/or error malfunction psycho-terror!

3.
I might be speechless, breechless - nobody could siege less;
"Sieg Heil" went to digress with Gumbayah and "I confess..."
Some dwarfs admitted to be half-giants and there accused;
some elves turned to leprechauns and controlled the trigger-fuse...

4.
I might raise my kite, then some things are not standing upright;
because some new farts tried to upstart a fight and jumped my
middle finger to tell jokes about Robin Good in tights! My heart
was throbbin' food; vomited the omitted goods into the sewers boo'd...

5.
I might be thin not fat; but that doesn't spell out that I lost my cat;
or the rabbit or the hat; when I went to my coca-cola dream of
juggernaut scat. Scrapping the tags of fapping slideshows of side-
show kicks what got licked by their derelict smart-ass bricks...

6.
I might die of laughter; contending to con-artist aesthetics with barter;
to cater and fart... er let's censor it and be smarter. What rhymes with?
And the show goes on to be someone like Marshall Mathers - the role-God-all
and Mod to play White Martian and Sopranos in the same role - I applaud!

7.
I might save my breathe, but it's better to be wasted like in GTA the frags never be tasted;
when someone is out on a frenzy - we're all like killers here merged with Joker and Mckensie;
not knowing whether Heather or lord of the flies shall tell a lie from believe or die ringleadering
the bottom feeders to their reclaimer and demeanor. Meaning less than to beam and not to mean here!

Cancered

Hook:
Eugene - Ew Germ! What gives - you're mean!! Billy-boy read The Hustler and was caught by Mary-Jane... Spiderman got cancered what the hell Mr. Alex deemed! All I could say in witness, was that it all bout' some Eugene...

1.
Spiderman got crossed with Stan - Jaywalked the mockingbirds to scarecrow the fans. The shit was lit and off the grit, the newspapers there orgasping for straws but stray-barked the wrong barn to skillfully toe-tag the Thing with Hulk And I don't mean to offend Hogan nor am I talking about some high-horsed low gun what got crossed into a cheetah... I don't know how to defeat myself - hah! My killing spree is so pedigree, my Podagra had to Avada Kedavra and miss the tree - as He-Man was falling town with timber, does it trigger your decklist from A to O or G? What's my butt-size is it H or am I on a relentless outrage on-stage turn the lights off to rage-quit all wizards who made the dragon in the room invisible and got flagged by Blizzard...

2.
Sherman tanked up in his roleplay to MMO some M.P to appease a treatise: "Let's be mature about virtue
to detour the gesture of nurturing untrue sentiment into merits and curfews." Him was offended and called off his rally to be the tally of Mulder and Scully merged with MacGyver and O'Malley's... The seagulls had a laughing-fit to pitlord the pitch-black underwhelmed Robin on a spin-off shit! He was not quite in the hood to be my homey nor one of the Simpsons, but I got shy when the prank-call turned me into 50 shades of gay and I had to science-fict my fisting gist into Mr. Garrow who didn't mind it that a black and broken arrow was in his spine and guts entrailing the marrow I had to borrow from Shakespear but forgot to copyright claim the fervor...

3.
Same old shame sold; tamers scold lamers bold - I fold! Owning this game for Gold to be told in the past that the future is unquestioned mold. It was Walt who didn't see how the ugly duckling was more famous, than the rabbit in the hole - so he funeralled his scarf and scoffed the plow. In the Diary of Mary Jane nothing was written down; spilled nor bolted shut and put on hold... Skillet had a skill-set what was not accompanied by this mod I downloaded from the crash-site of a meteorite as a one-hit-kill entered the stage like Elvis and I got some doubts in my pelvis that it's not wise to shelve this. It sounds like Beavis and Butthead as I headbutt the way through the open door and said: "Do you have some ketchup on the Times as I eat all up?" and he shouted back: "Woah, dude - wazzup? What's shaking are you on crack - da fuck?!"

4.
The rubber-duck in the cub-board haunted some tongue twisters and scat some freckles on my hipster mustache without pushing any rhymes on my Acne! - That cancered my porcupine and I didn't know what to say - or... Do I stay for supper, as Terminator pleaded behind my door to let him in and I just watched Buffy and couldn't allow the vampire even a single nay... Under my bed, as I evicted the bogeyman to call out all SAM sites what are found in the red-light district and in Columbia campus or somewhere else I don't recall or stand... I plan to scam the IRS with dauntless bouncing checks to bleak-scan my mirror-cracks what got left out from the odd server by a ping, as the Observer served cold dishes of vengeance on a silver platter and had a swerving Stirling to steer bereft into Burger-king.... I'm vehemently swearing!

Possessed

F this the dish of rampaging catfish; to S the D who R&D'ed the hiss!
I'm possessed to confess - Herman or Rudolf; Hesse or Hess?
What's the difference, who cares - my arguments are a mess...

Lets test this dress - up-skirt or tabletop who's guess? If I put some
"I told you so" in "just saying it" whitewashed Hall of honor and bliss?
Bless me, if no minds there giving F to bluff and button-raise the Sheriff!

The gloves are off and so are the shirts and buttons - oh my! I must be blind!
Don't stripmine the behavior of me myself and I! But-naked in thought awhile
S on you doubled down to triple nihilism with Nietzsche; Kierkegaard and Husserl...am fine!

Even if not, maybe its something I got - the flu or some bot who made a worrywart fart and
scapegoat... Troll me some nickles and dimes to backtrack - maybe I crack some smileys and wines.
Punning the sun to silver-line the malignant alignment with Ubuntu and Nibiru to tangent the ignorant fool!

Is it a sleeper cell or some agent - targeting the good taste with urgent may have been Mayhem or Bean!
Maybe it was just ham and eggs and nothing more to be continued in a fever pitched cream? Juggernaut
goes pell-mell; the marodeurs are frenzied - wth if I gone postal on your Tinkerbell...chill! Fire-sales well!!

I'm gonna shoot myself in the fist as I talk to my hands in your face as I found them on the other side
of Milwaukee and left you in Tennessee - alright! That's some great steam to be rolling on a stampede;
to have you pieps and iced sheets to cover the S heaps... while I fox-trot to make a giant leap for M-kind!

Or did I shutter some stutter of K-K-Kind to leave you guessing some Guess; Gucci or just mere Nike
on who's timeline... Twitter me this, is it a french kiss or cheese from Swiss - a suit and a tie to wear the
no smoking sign to be naked like a stand-up comedian was named Mr. B or was that T or anyway - don't wind!!

A team; B-list or C like Ferenc Liszt To ABC da unabombers to score some babes and the Oscar on xmas and you wish! Gibberish on berserk to squirt the newt twerp who didn't know how to bow the bowel of hatred into the toilet to cater betters meh - same S. So twit the fair game into battle-royal fortnite and call id: "Mayday"

S-S-S Stacy you lost your triple X rating and are not smoking hot anymore nor even a com-dot to miss the spot, to call up Spock and say, it can't be helped since your childhood, for abortion failed in a faked attempt!
Exempt of all obligations and obliterated contempts. Tempting the temporarity of oral prevention conversations camps to mirror Trump and fail hump?!

Piggy-backing the milked whales who breached the screeching of bats and badger mauls to maul a hole in one; to pun the Grail-goal tarding the show with respawned critters from Duke Nukem and Let's Rock and Dull the road of fork-knives and lifts to gift the thrift of a CEO does stiff the bad filth... and goes for a meh!

Testing, testing one-two-three: "I O U - I love you - You owe me - I trade you free - Kiss me - Missed me
was that all on air - don't spelling bee! Mind your own manners and redeem the unreal dream from Mereen!
Harpies are bad for worship but no statue ain't cool either, so cut-throat some booby-traps and make some C...

I'm stacking some insults before I go packing into my Ivory tower of little men and Lolicon some stockings on a tracking. Don't mind me if my rant got you flapping your chewing gums and caching the rye-whiskey and whiskers to Kit Kat the drowned cat, who bit some dogs who went A-wall in a condemned mall. That's all folks ya'll...

Prayer "Sinners quill"

Bless me, for I have sinned, fighting trolls makes me go on a grind;
do I mind? Behind my thoughts - the fear of being entwined with
Malice and Despair, to grin on their mistakes, I myself might share...

Am I not pharisee of old, as told, when it is said, talk is for the sheep
and silence is Gold? Gloating my Christian name, was it for the fame
or some trigger-happy clicks or some cunt-licks? Warmongering game!

What makes me differ from hags and witchers who resist and wither;
to sliver and roam on their way to and through like the devil? Aren't
they cast aside on the walls like piss what nobody notice even for amiss!

Maybe my ways are but a kiss of the Iron Maiden, to chop down heads;
maybe I should sleep in it and be glad, not well-read nor heard and said?
To pay the iron price - was it nice or avarice, to be that judgement in the field of lice...

Maybe I'm the one who is bugged, like a cop without a coffee-mug is out of a tug;
in war with everything. Flawed in the assumption that wisdom trumps consumption;
people favor knowledge above lazy gossip around the campfire and forgotten Stowe!!

Maybe hindered is my sight, behind a rock and a hard place, could I deface thy Grace
and remind myself like Job - that I dost not know, how it came to be - your legacy -
in creating things out of nothing, when I can't even plow the field without fly-swatting...

Fishing for some fat herrings or red lobsters - did it bolster my pride or indulge something?
I'm clueless and in enmity with your Holy Spirit - let me remember my first love -
my thirst for Your encore and the fleeting feeling, like a flying turtledove! spare me, the Sore!!

This is my kill count - my last righteous bill. I don't know, how I outlast through the days and nights
without your mercy; godspeed and good will! Can I even chill without the thrill to draw some blood
from all those wicked, who are left out from Heaven for naught - or am I God to see the truth from gore?

The thorn at sides; the quill in hand! Am I left or right - against Your all-mighty stand?
The cross and all the prophets - how should I be like that? Am I like the trademark trick every mage
pulls out of his hat? Some wannabe Sunday sorcerers could follow indeed, what is my worth - Creed?

What is my business and what is my mercy. Am I Roman or Christian enough to leave even cinders;
as I open my umbrella to tella some fellas; galavanting like merry knights on a jousting endevor -
devout of meaning and feisty in fealty. Isn't that the reason, you left and I feel like smothering cruelty...

Enterpriced on my apogee did I decree or digress from yours to disgrace - to embrace my folly;
alas, my stupor and golly! Was it all in train; am I insane or the same of those who are like Shaun?
Was it to play a blame and point some sinners when I'm pinned on the cross or am I spawned in vain!

Decent

Babe, don't cut, I'm worried about you; I always thought you there bulletproof...
Your videos so witty and cheerful make awed. How could I believe you got flaws?
Don't do this to me; to your friends and to you; babe, don't cut it would make me so lame;
how would I suffer if another friend tried - it happened before - don't leave me behind...

Babe don't cut! Just hug me some more - how would I spice my life without your encore;
it wasn't funny, I cracked up a scare... just talk to me or some friends and don't you dare!
Babe, don't cut, I'm reaching to you - I feel so helpless, like nothing compares;
if you cut, I'll bleed... and that makes me blue, you there my silver lining on a rainy days afternoon!

Babe, don't cut, please stop it, I besiege you! What would be a world without your humor?
The sun would not shine; and the moon would be shallow; the stars would fall down and...
don't cut!! Babe, don't cut - it's not fair you're in pain. I'll always remain your friend in true!
Just be yourself and ask, what you need, I'm all ears just give me a promise - don't leave...

Smother me

1.
Loose my life, I sell your soul; call me a name, I give you true meaning.
When you glimpse into the ravine, the deep will look back to;
nothing is real, unless I feel pain. That is the only remorse and gleaming;
the truth to cut all chains... its a shame, that all who are framing
fame, hope to carve themselves a god who is bigger then us and ought to
be the same! Loose that count; I plead you guilty, but not as you do too;
but as I secretly conceive... Me is Myself and I are You - the new beginning!

2.
Starve myself and feed your frenzy; flag my needs and scold my despair;
I love to be crucified, to be your lap-top; the doll of design...
Nothing more refreshing than the taste of my own blood under impaired
tooth and gums, when we play the running game with just one chair...
I want to loose, so you could stay victor, please give me more rules to resign;
bully my honor and shame my dreams valor - that is what grace shall assign.
Frustration is must and fear is a means, for the Kingdom to come, and your lair!

3.
Give me your shit; I like to buy glasses - Pink is so kinky and the favorite color!
Black is so cool and Green is so mean - which one is true no-one could tell...
All I see, Red, and shades of Gray flurry; chasing around the ones who have colons;
question marks bad, exclamations turn sour only three dots what better the morons...
What is the truth, who has the say? So many prophets make the poison go swell;
should I blow the whistle; raise the rally flag on a moral high-ground or ring the doomsday bell?
We need more tombs to lament of fathers who over-lived their sons and forlorn!

Turncoat

1.
Turn the page, turn the tide, show goes on stage: choose a side!
An eye for an eye, a cringe for a silver; talk is cheap - silence golden;
turned a black eye blind, whitewashed the pushed aside:
bullies had something to quiver as their lips there sulking entwined...
"Suck it up and climper the piano instead of violins and onions embolden!"
"You're in or out, with or without - once you're down nobody scolds em!"
Just let it slide, just let it slide!! Just let it slide, just let it slide!!

2.
To the victor go the spoils, he'll never be judged! That's why no remorse
is being pinged through the webs of tranquil garden and luscious lips...
The loins still thicker than the wavering finger can point and click intercourse;
gray folks have no guilt to be told - no name nor face to be reckoning force!
When in Rome, wail with the wolves, turn a blind eye to wiggle the hips;
as the poker faces are falling, you may clip the buttons and fold the chips...
when you wake up, the friendship might be wrecked, no silver lining off course!

3.
Binge the loathings and purge the faithless with verdicts and addictions;
vindictive choices make dubious contradictions... In hindsight all was worthy -
still much got snuffed out just in case. Resting many skeletons and sections
of cupboards for cases are closed, but never down for the count, no exceptions
to be made in-between the lines, what got crossed on the road, what was curvy
and slippery, for the ice and cool Aesthetics. Some times better than unworthy
anesthetics - to mend some wounds, seems like giving up and siding with scions!!

4.
Bordering with Malice and Despair, many advisers have drunckated the rules;
to fit in with the crowd - some great minds get haunted like confined buildings...
Condemned once, no-one is allowed to fair-use ever again - it goes...
many ways how a double edged sword can cut, the looser obtains the wows;
what even the zealous there not able to fulfill and lost their beds, shillings...
Castles got sold and burnt down the barley - to reason the just killings;
This is the sound of a Nightmare turning over the coat of a sweet blues!

5.
I would sleep in it, if it wouldn't bend whenever I turn the other side:
"Too little, too late; too new - old; too fake - so real; too in - out...!"
So many hear-says mean more truths than elves can get ears bellied;
wronging the belongings to be left or right, what does the center lied,
when the true north is lost and no-one is betters to offer a fair shout?
Who is so worthy and stand above the rabble like a dwarf so stout;
yet like on fairy wings; with knightly valor and angelic grace abide??

6.
Milking the cows and yanking the bulls as the whales are beached...
Isn't it like demanding your beach-rights when a ship is wrecked?
Crossing the lines and breaking the rules - what is yet to besieged.
The walls around are narrowing, yet crumbling the crust - screeched
the inner demons and they codes of honor! Beneath is nothing but hecked
peasants and scoffed pupils - on top just thin air and the smell of speck!
Some black horses play white knight-rider I wonder why that has not breached!

Soothing winds

1.
Soothe my mind, soothe my dreams;
for a tooth under my pillow -
I would cry you some themes...
All what is mellow, while small talk is shallow;
the rifts go deep and the cringe is gnashing Willows -
the other trees don't waver a leaf nor crap a cream!

(Hook)
Fairy Queens are beautiful, knights are all merry;
its still not Christmas nor Thanksgiving  nor Halloween!
How do you live if you wanna pop that cherry;
and ordain true adulthood with all its esteem?

2.
Twinkled stars and crossed pinky-fingers;
the loins of abundance came short this turn.
It went from silent to eerie - it tingles
inside, as the gist lost its chingle -
a lot more in life than one night stands to discern...
When the lesson came real it only mingled.

(Hook)
Fairy Queens are beautiful, knights are all merry...

3.
Soothing winds on the wings of mercy;
at the wake of a dream the fable was as told...
It was but a game - but none there rehearsing;
hearsay was hoarse raddish - not coin in the pursy;
the souls there rent and out to be sold;
wailing winds only insults there cursing...

(Hook)
Fairy Queens are beautiful, knights are all merry...

4.

I wish I was the seventh teen who was seventeen;

who got all his tales to be continued with Fairies!

I wish it was like pushing up Daisies - like has been;

adulthood not so cherished once it worthily deems...

So many dreams wraith away like Carries;

wishing they could make things some happened unseen!

Impersonate

A person named Nate Warden wanted to be a wizard;
and trained a lot for the cos-play to show effort and merit.
The weather outside was raining cats and dogs - a blizzard
was the last thing he'll need for the cab did not always dare it...

Huffing to down-town to be mercied by yellow angels;
in order to drive to the other side of South - Haven...
Michigan wasn't that bad, but it had it's own dangers
to be dressed up like a dark-elf maiden, like craving!

All the hardships a boy has to endure to be worthy indeed;
the night was quater past three and the cabby refused "the hooker"!
So Nate went along himself to be choicest, and to be redeemed;
so he could be cool and place VIP seats - "to book Her"

Impersonating a dark elf with the name Lyzar Eweem -
gender pun unintended... Attending more police reports;
than the boy could count his fingers as it seems...
What could you say or do, if you're in a top with tight shorts?

Studied the mana and questioned the leaks;
all the things people said and done, about the lore.
What could have been better, what would have tweaks;
what some other tweets made sound so hardcore...

In the end it did not matter, for Nate was raped out cold;
his cosplay too convincing a drunk sailor bought the game...
Thought he was a girl and as news-report told -
"He was not putting up a fight so I guess he felt the same!!"

Died of hypothermia for the cops had to play some robbers;
the bridges there all burnt up so no firemen nor ambulance
to cover and hang in there... Who could you bother
with blame, when everything is but a dream in a trance!

For Anna Rudolf

She played chess then others baited gender;
four in a row made the haters turn to slander.
Lip gloss computer is non plus ultra like Bender
from Futurama - to love me, pretender?!

I don't know what, but how do I say it:
how do many cunts complain against same shit?
"You have no dick!" - And you do? For real! I'm hit!!
How does it reference to chess, you dimwit?

Smacking a girl with AC needs no guts but whores!
Without evidence all claims are evidence like gibbering gore
in a computer game you forgot to nanny-lock the sores;
so quit barking under the wrong mistletoe for more scores!!

Do I shake my hips or my head, or is this a milk-shaker?
No pun intended, but sarcasm is for free - so wait for the undertaker.
Every time you kids paint the web with comments, it makes me faker
as a funny bill of 37 bucks in US to think of chess like peace of cakers!!

It's not that easy to win it when under scrutiny and contempt;
when some fake drawers bully your belongings with behelpt -
if a fly bothers the sleeper, stone her in the face is attempt.
not murder? Or am I missing something between - exempt?!

Stay with me for a brief moment as I share my beef;
Why aren't women allowed to win at chess, without grief??
How is it fair to spot a cheater whenever one does reach;
and not if Fischer won his price to suspect the deceit...

"But you see, the handy-gap 400 points is a big deal!!"
When why do we allow such games, if the shit is surreal?
If underdogs can only loose, there's the challenge to gleam;
I fail to see the options what contenders should redeem!

Reasonable doubt is worthy indeed! - No evidence, means let her go;
if you can prove it show me the receipts - if not stop side-winding the show!!
The slippery slope yoked some hangmans jokes to forget Ben Owen in the stowe...
I wanted to go to Glasgow but forget which Potter to row!