Archive for dig

13/30 Terminal Velocity (Lots of verses this year, can’t complain)

Posted in Hip hop, NaPoWriMo, Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on 04/19/2015 by spikedaeley

Terminal velocity be the policy

Uncle ‘Cid and Molly, no apologies

If you follow me, you’re bound to get incepted.

Riddle with the Sphinx, wild out, leave him headless.

“See you at the crossroads”

where the lost souls go to talk shit and politic

holes full of holes and their bottomless.

Gas bottle rag match solace kit,

one day less till apocalypse,

better hope your god doesn’t not exist

Can the dark and light mix?

Can our avatars put this sabotage behind us?

Can we kill the violence with some science and some kindness ?

Can you spare some canned goods with cash in a vice grip?

I don’t really think so.

I don’t think these people really seeing other people.

50 years ago they wanted segregated gene pools

some still do, unbelievable

“I don’t think it means what you think…” inconceivable

as Mankind’s planetary raping spree. Now we full tilt

cup overflowing still, built to spill, wool quilt

over windows to the soul and it’s

such a great joke to the folks that’s controlling shit

I wish they wood like Groot, 5D time loop, split infinity

post traumatic symphony of imagery

trade the ecstasy for the agony and misery

I’m sure your social media is far more interesting.



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 06/04/2012 by spikedaeley

I suppose that I should thank whatever deity made me this way
Or whatever chemical arrangement shaped my DNA
Carbon-based, fair-trade, picnic basket case
Itchin to unmask Jakes at the gas face masquerades
Whatever happened to the Player’ s Ball?
Michael Bay got involved
Now they say nothing is sacred
But my pen is leakin gospel
So we namaste, innovate, thanksgiving dinner soothsay
With a budget 99% of which we haven’t made yet
We a shameless bunch of kids with a disregard for most laws
And now we’re raising kids questioning even our thoughts
It’s equal parts thrilling and worrisome,
Capable of so much but the world may not last to see it done
I wonder where I am more than I’d like to admit
On this swiftly tilting planet in a cosmic abyss
I exist via coincidence, still leave an imprint
Yet this consciousness we’re given is inexplicably limited
Divinity is trippy when your feeling insignificant
So I get in where I fit in and live with it, dig it?
Pinch me, these images seem just like a dream
I believe therefore I am what I conceive
Foundation, what I’m tryin to lay…can you dig it?
Treasure map says 50 paces away…can you dig it?
Shallow grave and a gardening spade…can you dig it?
Plato’s cave, life’s a tunnel from prison…can you dig it?

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