Archive for Change you can believe in

23/30 Democracy Now. (16 bars)

Posted in Hip hop, NaPoWriMo, Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on 04/29/2015 by spikedaeley

Warning so explicit they like, “How explicit is it? “

I’m like “Have you ever witnessed the scope of folks indifference?”

They like, “Damn. I bet that shit is wicked can I get me some?” I’m on it

I’m not sure when I’m done you’re gunna want it.

Let’s be honest, tomorrow’s not a promise it’s a lie

More accurate a half-truth, they stare at me like statues

I’m like damn, did someone break your smartphone?

Aren’t those, tickets for the “We All Got Scars Show?” (thought so)

Me I keep mine open then adjust my daily dosage

Of self-medicate, levitate, simmer for a moment

Then it’s on again, battle with my rattled self-confidence

Brush off compliments like dirt off my shoulders (like wow)

Definitely fortunately fortunate but

Cynical as exiles with invitations from governments

A sucker is, born so frequently it might surprise you

My culture is, more poisonous than even I’d surmised boo


20/30 Some Seconds

Posted in NaPoWriMo, Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on 04/28/2015 by spikedaeley

Nod at the kebab guy, past Batman pachinko
catch the 5:44, don’t sit, read “Born to Buy.”

Nod, that was my childhood. In between commercials
and politicians lying to me. Fuck you Tipper Gore,

and Nancy Reagan, your husbands were worse though.
I was afternoon kool-aid. Mom and dad usually not

home till after 5. Slept through most of adolescence
anyway. Lipton Brisk and day old donuts for breakfast

courtesy the Kubasaki Science Club and Coach Burns.
If I’d only done the math, could’ve learned about supply,

demand and marking-up for profit. Would’ve been better
at American. Still professional loud and entitled (maybe not

enough though.) College lungs were a smokestack. Those
were my unshowered, late to class, somebody else’s fault

days. (Maybe just enough.) Pulled over once, backwards
alphabet, sorry officered and white college-kidded my “boys

will be boys” straighline walk. Officers were kind enough
to escort me to my friend’s couch. Still had my Jim Morrison

wig on. Karaoke contest, the right person won. Wasn’t me.
Still won that night, clean driving record minus old speeding

tickets. That was 12 starlit years ago. Didn’t care about
anything. Completely invincible. Now, I stop into grocery

stores to wash my hands because I almost pet a stray cat
Quit smoking almost 2 and a half years ago. Radioheading

my own fitter happier. Going back to school in August,
Second Master’s (maybe enough plus plenty?) So this

is adulting. Must’ve tried the skin on out of context.
Some seconds, I’m still seeing the world for the first time.


11/30 Magnificent Flaws (Really like this one. Not sure about the ending though)

Posted in NaPoWriMo, Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 04/12/2015 by spikedaeley


Starlight naked, ready to hang glide my spirit
over canyons of panther’s teeth howling freefall.
Refusing to be swallowed in the unmarked grave
of a corporate smile, it’s time to bet life
on risk versus uncertainty.

Time to dive face first into my sixth sense anatomy.
To manuscript an alive language of “Succeed”
build rapture from mistakes, delight in awkward
and always save room for ice cream.

If “heal” is a wounded word and “present” means
deepbreathingsayyes I want to releasebreathe
until my heart expands into an ocean of here/now
kick myself off pedestals and sever earthly ties.

Grow upside down roots from my fingers into multi-verse possibles
Make dark matter love and fill the deep space with play in slow motion
I can do all of these things plus cartwheels with the right secret handshake

I’ve lost my keys on purpose
And am climbing in windows

Foregoing views from the afterglow with snifters of wince.
No longer wandering lost in a Mockery’s discarded library
So over withering to a vaporous scream.
Baptized in the sins of the father,
I’ve escaped scathed and scathed again.

My full moon armor is sometimes more chink
than impervious yet thusly cloaked
I’m the most confident stockholder
in my range of poor investments.

I am the consummate
Not Exactly What You’d Expected
The Breaker of Down in Inopportune Times
The accomplished Sleeper of Late
Expert Awkward Smile Deliverer
Midnight Eater of the Calorie Laden Smackerel

The Emperor of Accidental Offenses
The Unintentional Intimacy Killer
Armed with these magnificent flaws
I can only laugh

and laugh


and laugh.



Posted in Hip hop, Poetry with tags , , , , , , , on 07/29/2012 by spikedaeley

This is the dawning of creations you are unfamiliar with
I will be the man, who instigates the myth
See how the smooth stone skips across the slits
In space-time fabric, call it a catalyst
Don’t call it a comeback, ain’t nuttin on your tramp stamp
I’m practicing my straight face and savin up my last laughs
Ya’ll holdin on to errythang, I’m lettin go and takin flight
Flagrant in a way that carpe diems every wasted night

And if you want it love, you can get it too
If you want it, then you can have it
And if you want it bruvv, you can get it too
If you want it, then you can have it

Too many apprentices, not enough sorcerers
Everybody wanna shine, ignoring when they scorch the earth
I’m givin ya’ll a piece of my peace of mind in overture
My third cornea is never closed it’s always open sir
Face it like a curb stomp, defacing public property
Tearin up illuminati money, throw it on the street
Poems folded origami cranes so I can set em free
Poor as fuck but possibly the richest man I’ve ever seen

Oracle of Delphi, sanctified wine
Consecrating shrines tucked deep between her thighs
Paprika how I put the spice of dreams into my waking life
Peer into the core of my cerebral like it’s crystallized
Breaking ya’ll off a little something like a landslide
Damn right I’m givin something paper cash can’t buy
Kickin Bad Religion with a little twist of Sean Price
Town crier all’s well ish, how I know the time

And if you want it love, you can get it too
If you want it, then you can have it
And if you want it bruvv, you can get it too
If you want it, then you can have it

Tight like a tourniquet
Scopin out this modern mess walking dead
Swapping bloodlust and criminal intent
Narcoleps, red bull wings to combat sedatives
Star-spangled neo-Romans devolve to denizens
Plugged in, sparkin enmity at our disconnects
While guitars gently weep like my dripping pen
Want it you can have it, me, I’ma skip it friends
Excuse myself to meet the business end of a vision quest


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