Archive for Olde Man Winter

22/30 Olde Man Winter vs. Plague Doctors (it reads better in double-time)

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

Quoth the raven, nevermore
Nevertheless, I never sweat fresh killing floor
Remnants, ghost like a murder of crows
Evidence of the dark side of the force
Calculate how many daily pounds of flesh it takes
In an attempt to pay off the debt overlords
Is that really all they want from me now?
Open a sewed up vein and bleed out
Pour some on the floor for those that came before then
Pour a lil more for souls drawn and quartered
I know those wide lips ain’t really smiling
I know the look of an animal when it’s cornered
Scorched earth, yeah, got plenty of it, every
Fight or flight risk adds a penny to the bucket
Cauterize the scars and unturn the stomach
Pardon my bizarre outlook or confront it
No sweat off mine, so many so-called threats
Brain dead on arrive, cases like mine,
get scopes with red lights and FED types
who put fresh coins over eyes.

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Olde with an e

Posted in Que Interesante with tags , , , on 05/18/2012 by spikedaeley

Phoenix feather charcoal tip quills

dipped in the sangria of a beating heart

 

Every time he touches someone else he feels a little less plastic,

but it’s been a long time. He watches them move by.

 

They say half the fun is getting there, but they don’t ride economy.

He rides two feet and a knee that feels broken.

 

Sleeps standing up like a maple tree.

Bathes in the rain like the mountainside.

 

Sees rainbows and wonders

If the others see them too.

 

Sometimes he is little more than a trail of cigarette smoke

floating by a flickering porchlight, embers in his shadows.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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