Follow white rabbits down paisley partitions
with yellow messiahs in looking glass missions.
See man, in his magnitude, left for fenetics:
a collapse of the mind in a quantum correction--
a mistaken identity, idle as of yet,
that leads to be brilliant, but longs to forget.
Go out, create thunder, and find an immersion
in synthesized, villainous, spirographed cloisters,
or expand at the compass, now broke and forgotten.
A lot of the city lives life bent and rotten,
laughing and looking beyond the wood grain
in warped timing haute-contoured for the insane.
What's this whole islam brown skin hysteria?,
"let just drop bombs on this whole ****** area",
you know, theirs a brain under every cranium,
check your facts, theirs no reason to be killin 'em,
a life is a life, theirs is worth the same as yours,
except you're the reason for all these pointless wars,
it's like you strive for violence, blood, gut's, and gore,
i laugh everytime you say Jesus is your lord.
tao-telling ten grouped two of five
magister and sinister set side by side
the littlest sitting sinister
articulates A-- shifty bugger, he
ring starts wonders, wrangles 2
middle's more 3-D
also middle sinister
is quick to draw dismissal
sinister middle stands alone
and index starts t' fizzle
index stands on ready
flings itself and stretches high
4 ever, sinister puppets pair
their meeting makes so many words
run dry
while sinister thumb does little by itself
grasps chalices in celebration
pinches with infrequency
rubs temples, squeezes harder
makes guitar strings sing on key
sinister dances fourstep
and magister dances five
creation between sinister and magister
comes alive
magister thumb puts distance between
words and meaning; see him run amok!
his partner, index magister borrows sinister
to put the sound in ****
and middle magister to say
that everything's alright
Ironic, then, that magister
first curls when there's a fight
magister ring leads love twice
lets 9 come full stop.
magister ring opens doors--
littlest ends flop
"Wanga Raps" is my imaginary rap crew, this verse is from MC Illiterater in "Playa Slaya". I know it's not a serious one, but that being said i think it's still creative enough to be considered poetic.
Wangsta Raps - Playa Slaya
Yo, i'mma slay the ***** with the mic tonight,
these words are gunna be like your kryptonite,
the inevitable, you're gunna get raped,
but feel free to drop to your knees and pray,
i'm the best in the world, this is my throne,
so if ya want to step up, prepare to get owned
and well you're at it, you better write yo will,
cause beast-mode engage, you 'bout to get killed,
i'm the saboteur and i'm here to destroy ya,
cause i'm the noob-pwner proclaimed pro killa,
and i'm the master wangsta underground rapper,
a damn fine legend to all my mimes and jesters.
i ain't neva gunna quit now that i'm committed
and i don't give a **** if ya don't think it's poetic
because i'm here to stay, i ain't going away,
i know it sounds cliche, but you just got slayed!
Warning for evading the censor. I made the self-censoring MTGS-consistent: PM me if you would rather have something else done to the stars.
Or perhaps
heavy earthen kites
of old veined malachite
held aloft
by sheer will
and immobility.
While climbing
and just a child yet
my lifeline bough shattered
(wet bones thrilled by wind and gravity)
and my father hit me
and I felt the sap in my palms
and in my mouth.
But this on southern oaks,
crablike
scuttling low branches in arcs
not like these northerners,
these skybearing corinthians.
I said I'd be BOLD
but I found that I'd FOLD
-
I know that I'm BITTER
but I'm not a QUITTER
-
I just found, on the WHOLE
that I had no CONTROL
-
and I knew I'd be BOLD
but then I got OLD
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
my mouth is full of winsome lies -
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
A poem about the miraculous abilities for abstract thought that one has when under the influence of a certain illegal substance that can also be made into butter; not necessarily the type of butter you want to spread on bread but a good butter nonetheless, a good butter indeed.
The void.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Official Moderator of The [Gutter]
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This thing doesn't capture formatting. Will try to get a screencap or something to display properly. EDIT: Ok, PHP tags seem to work. Sorry about the mess.
Noctournal Rose
[PHP]. . . o u r . . .
c e e
a cr s ic
l us t w
o un t
caressed
distresses and
redresses
g
r
i
e
v
e
in
cest
stressed
distur
bingly
bitten,
bleeding out our
royally blessed.
now drained,
my lying .
naked
baroness
enfantasia
who
q
u
e
s
t
s
for
a
d
e
n
o
s
i
n
e
and wishes only sleep,
finds
struggle,
thought to be
awash in caffeine.
But I'm content never to dream,
left,
somnus renounced,
I scheme
So now that i know i can't use curse words even while expressing myself through poetry, i'm bring you a less agressive but still up in yo face rhyme. Enjoy my mimes and jesters WHAT WHAT! Yeah. FYI, i had to replace the f-bomb with BEEP and the the b-word with the bold "rappers" so these mods would stop hating on me! I'mma work within the system for this one.
Wangsta Raps - Second Coming(MC Mime)
I'm back with second verse, another chapter,
my rhymes are still ill, and i'm the illest rapper,
i been chillin, been collecting neet knick-knacks,
but don't think for a second i gon soft or you'll get sacked,
i'mma work this mic, you gon get bombarded,
drop bombs so hard, i'll blast you retarded,
you're oblivious to the fact that i'm the baddest,
i'mma shock the world when i'm the top status,
without MC Mime rap has gone hiatus,
i'm the walkin, talking, rappin apparatus,
MC mime, more like MC best of all time,
i'mma climb to the top with my awe like ryhmes,
you betta cope with second, cause i'm the BEEP'n best,
slayin rappers left and right to complete my quest,
i ain't never gon retire fo as long as i'm inspired,
i'mma keep droppin lines til the day i expire.
my eyes have been staring my whole life
into walls of blank big white -
or maybe that's just in my dreams,
when my thoughts turn into clouds,
and my wishes turn to ****
piled on the ground in streams,
why would I even notice it?
I'd disguise myself with shrouds,
and try to make the world make sense -
no bliss comes without consequence,
and laughter seems like spite.
I've been staring, wide-eyed, my whole life,
into sunny dreams of white.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
my mouth is full of winsome lies -
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
I crossed the desert,
feeling dry
and stumbly, bottle in my hands
I rubbed, my eyes red
(...from the heat!) but then:
a djinn poured forth
both clear and neat
There he was, a djinn
'midst clouds of smoke
sec comme moi, and claiming London home
"I will a favor do to you, if you correctly choose.
be warned: I don't really grant wishes.
you'll find yermouth, struck dumb.
Riddles are for sphinx, but you're the sort
to be a gambling man.
So, sport,
I am the june: I per-
-forate
the stomach with the spear
of mother's ruin; down the lane,
I'd love to keep you warmer nightly.
What is in man's breath, that he
is over the limits of a God,
and blind to the eyes of truth?"
And I to him,
"Tis a real licker, djinn; my mind's afrazzle.
Your clarity would sparkle, were my guilt
one to dazzle."
And he, to me, took pity, I suppose.
"Can you answer, or are you lost?
I suppose I'll give you something, just for free;
Open your mouth and drink a shot of me..."
this initially started with the first four lines of Dickinson's most famous of poems, e.g.:
Because I did not stop for death,
he kindly stopped for me -
the carriage held but just ourselves
and Immortality.
Enough.
I've seen the face of death -
what a frightful look to bear!
though the visage trembles so
tis' pierced with a quick stare -
no need to hold in memories of the dead who, in their graves,
rest sounder in cemeteries than us whom sleep comes to in waves -
one last look before the end! --
let's smile and make pretend -
complain of all our warts and wounds,
though we know we'll be there soon
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
my mouth is full of winsome lies -
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
****ing hate everyone,
every ****ing one.
You're *****es and snitches,
all over digits.
I'm religious and yet I get it.
Punch your ticket to the cliqueing,
I hear you like a dicking.
You're a ****ing mod dick taker,
it's outrageous.
I ****ing figured you were. This is why I told you to stop posting.
******. ******. ******.
That's the "n" word but it's censored.
Burning grease a ****ing blister.
My job sucks but you still call me mister.
Hey mister, that's ****ing right *****.
Suck my **** some more and I'll probably let you post.
This isn't high school.
This isn't real life.
Slice and dice.
It doesn't matter
tomato splatter.
This is just a website.
Just a ****ing website.
Where we can all put on our cool shades if we want.
But it's still just a sandbox.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Official Moderator of The [Gutter]
Think the MtgStaff is just swell? Join today! You too can be involved in an 8 year grudge and delete nearly 9000 of kpaca's posts!
Underlined
Bold Type
An Ironic Poem-
With an Ironic Title-
Because Hipster is the new black;
And I was the blackest G
To ever be
A Hipster;
Writing
Ironic Peoms
Without meaning
Wait, ****, forgot
An Ironic Poem with an Ironic Title because Hipster is the new black and I was the blackest G to ever be a hipster; writing ironic poems without meaning.
I reserve the right to change it. This is more or less a placehold while I see if I can't finish another poem in six days.
Follow white rabbits down paisley partitions
with yellow messiahs in looking glass missions.
See man, in his magnitude, left for fenetics:
a collapse of the mind in a quantum correction--
a mistaken identity, idle as of yet,
that leads to be brilliant, but longs to forget.
Go out, create thunder, and find an immersion
in synthesized, villainous, spirographed cloisters,
or expand at the compass, now broke and forgotten.
A lot of the city lives life bent and rotten,
laughing and looking beyond the wood grain
in warped timing haute-contoured for the insane.
This is a Shivan Ampersand
Get quicker, get richer
Gotta be fast but your life can’t last
Lest the lash find your trash-filled soul
It’s a hole
It’s a drain
It’s a mole
It’s a brain
It doles out the truth like
The soul of the slain
It’s a stain
On your world
It twirls and whirls and the story unfurls
Before the curl coils up
In this
Mortal
Foil.
Previous entry, "Word-Association Solitaire//AIM" revoked.
Join the Poetry Running Contest!
What's this whole islam brown skin hysteria?,
"let just drop bombs on this whole ****** area",
you know, theirs a brain under every cranium,
check your facts, theirs no reason to be killin 'em,
a life is a life, theirs is worth the same as yours,
except you're the reason for all these pointless wars,
it's like you strive for violence, blood, gut's, and gore,
i laugh everytime you say Jesus is your lord.
Made the internal editing MTGS-consistent: see http://forums.mtgsalvation.com/showpost.php?p=7520054&postcount=296 for the warning.
Banner created by me.
Add me on my MTG Youtube Channel!
tao-telling ten grouped two of five
magister and sinister set side by side
the littlest sitting sinister
articulates A-- shifty bugger, he
ring starts wonders, wrangles 2
middle's more 3-D
also middle sinister
is quick to draw dismissal
sinister middle stands alone
and index starts t' fizzle
index stands on ready
flings itself and stretches high
4 ever, sinister puppets pair
their meeting makes so many words
run dry
while sinister thumb does little by itself
grasps chalices in celebration
pinches with infrequency
rubs temples, squeezes harder
makes guitar strings sing on key
sinister dances fourstep
and magister dances five
creation between sinister and magister
comes alive
magister thumb puts distance between
words and meaning; see him run amok!
his partner, index magister borrows sinister
to put the sound in ****
and middle magister to say
that everything's alright
Ironic, then, that magister
first curls when there's a fight
magister ring leads love twice
lets 9 come full stop.
magister ring opens doors--
littlest ends flop
This is a Shivan Ampersand
Yo, i'mma slay the ***** with the mic tonight,
these words are gunna be like your kryptonite,
the inevitable, you're gunna get raped,
but feel free to drop to your knees and pray,
i'm the best in the world, this is my throne,
so if ya want to step up, prepare to get owned
and well you're at it, you better write yo will,
cause beast-mode engage, you 'bout to get killed,
i'm the saboteur and i'm here to destroy ya,
cause i'm the noob-pwner proclaimed pro killa,
and i'm the master wangsta underground rapper,
a damn fine legend to all my mimes and jesters.
i ain't neva gunna quit now that i'm committed
and i don't give a **** if ya don't think it's poetic
because i'm here to stay, i ain't going away,
i know it sounds cliche, but you just got slayed!
Warning for evading the censor. I made the self-censoring MTGS-consistent: PM me if you would rather have something else done to the stars.
Banner created by me.
Add me on my MTG Youtube Channel!
Losing, bruising, snoozing
Sleeping in warped anger
Kicking, cutting, blinding
Falling, calling, balling
Fallen and shoved forever
Sliding, laying, dying
scumbag
Want Higher Level Card Evaluation? Visit Diestoremoval.com
from me
to myself
It's like an open coffin:
skeletons
gasping
for air
It's like an open wound:
bleeding out
of time
to do
or die
trying
to be free
from
wordplay
phrases
and your
company
It's like an open door:
and you're like a prodigy;
free
to come
home to see
the slaughter
of
the calf.
Join the Poetry Running Contest!
Descent
Slow thick lightning
descending
Verdant flurried thunderheads,
mimeographed clouds.
Or perhaps
heavy earthen kites
of old veined malachite
held aloft
by sheer will
and immobility.
While climbing
and just a child yet
my lifeline bough shattered
(wet bones thrilled by wind and gravity)
and my father hit me
and I felt the sap in my palms
and in my mouth.
But this on southern oaks,
crablike
scuttling low branches in arcs
not like these northerners,
these skybearing corinthians.
I said I'd be BOLD
but I found that I'd FOLD
-
I know that I'm BITTER
but I'm not a QUITTER
-
I just found, on the WHOLE
that I had no CONTROL
-
and I knew I'd be BOLD
but then I got OLD
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
look at them, such Affinity;
must be Twins-
and they've got the same Junk
and they tried to Control my mind
but I took em by Storm
and 12 Posts
left them blind on a Blazing Shoal
it’s the Living End
of my Hypergenesis
Birthed by an iron Pod;
fueled by the blood of Elves
the poor Soul Sisters
could pay neither Death nor Taxes,
left to rot on the last Blue Level
'longside Mavericks, Shamans, and Teachers.
Join the Poetry Running Contest!
The void.
Noctournal Rose
[PHP]. . . o u r . . .
c e e
a cr s ic
l us t w
o un t
caressed
distresses and
redresses
g
r
i
e
v
e
in
cest
stressed
distur
bingly
bitten,
bleeding out our
royally blessed.
now drained,
my lying .
naked
baroness
enfantasia
who
q
u
e
s
t
s
for
a
d
e
n
o
s
i
n
e
and wishes only sleep,
finds
struggle,
thought to be
awash in caffeine.
But I'm content never to dream,
left,
somnus renounced,
I scheme
and machinate our chambers
into lords lairs
of
o b s c e n i t y[/PHP]
This is a Shivan Ampersand
Wangsta Raps - Second Coming(MC Mime)
I'm back with second verse, another chapter,
my rhymes are still ill, and i'm the illest rapper,
i been chillin, been collecting neet knick-knacks,
but don't think for a second i gon soft or you'll get sacked,
i'mma work this mic, you gon get bombarded,
drop bombs so hard, i'll blast you retarded,
you're oblivious to the fact that i'm the baddest,
i'mma shock the world when i'm the top status,
without MC Mime rap has gone hiatus,
i'm the walkin, talking, rappin apparatus,
MC mime, more like MC best of all time,
i'mma climb to the top with my awe like ryhmes,
you betta cope with second, cause i'm the BEEP'n best,
slayin rappers left and right to complete my quest,
i ain't never gon retire fo as long as i'm inspired,
i'mma keep droppin lines til the day i expire.
Banner created by me.
Add me on my MTG Youtube Channel!
Rhythmic,
sensual and pure
atomic
ecstasy, your
delicate touch
safeguards
me (much
more than words
ever do).
Moment is still
and you
could kill
with a glance
of ample romance.
my eyes have been staring my whole life
into walls of blank big white -
or maybe that's just in my dreams,
when my thoughts turn into clouds,
and my wishes turn to ****
piled on the ground in streams,
why would I even notice it?
I'd disguise myself with shrouds,
and try to make the world make sense -
no bliss comes without consequence,
and laughter seems like spite.
I've been staring, wide-eyed, my whole life,
into sunny dreams of white.
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
mankind is so stupid that it makes me furious,
everything you do, and everything you say,
takes credibility away from the human race,
i got a solution, no more fornication,
because you'll stop evolution if you replicate.
Banner created by me.
Add me on my MTG Youtube Channel!
The pain has gone away.
Empty bottle on the floor.
And here I lay
without the comfort of a whore.
The rain dances down the window
Lonesome needles spread
My bottles running on low.
The pillow is the final resting place for my head.
The snow falls heavy
The fire cackles loudly
My car frozen by the levy
I awake to a pounding
scumbag
Want Higher Level Card Evaluation? Visit Diestoremoval.com
I crossed the desert,
feeling dry
and stumbly, bottle in my hands
I rubbed, my eyes red
(...from the heat!) but then:
a djinn poured forth
both clear and neat
There he was, a djinn
'midst clouds of smoke
sec comme moi, and claiming London home
"I will a favor do to you, if you correctly choose.
be warned: I don't really grant wishes.
you'll find yermouth, struck dumb.
Riddles are for sphinx, but you're the sort
to be a gambling man.
So, sport,
I am the june: I per-
-forate
the stomach with the spear
of mother's ruin; down the lane,
I'd love to keep you warmer nightly.
What is in man's breath, that he
is over the limits of a God,
and blind to the eyes of truth?"
And I to him,
"Tis a real licker, djinn; my mind's afrazzle.
Your clarity would sparkle, were my guilt
one to dazzle."
And he, to me, took pity, I suppose.
"Can you answer, or are you lost?
I suppose I'll give you something, just for free;
Open your mouth and drink a shot of me..."
This is a Shivan Ampersand
I've seen the face of death -
what a frightful look to bear!
though the visage trembles so
tis' pierced with a quick stare -
no need to hold in memories of the dead who, in their graves,
rest sounder in cemeteries than us whom sleep comes to in waves -
one last look before the end! --
let's smile and make pretend -
complain of all our warts and wounds,
though we know we'll be there soon
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
I want to eat your brain
So I can feel insane
I want you to eat my brain
So you can feel my pain
Wouldn't it be strange
If our brains didn't taste the same?
Time for a season one walking dead marathon hope I dont have nightmares
****ing hate everyone,
every ****ing one.
You're *****es and snitches,
all over digits.
I'm religious and yet I get it.
Punch your ticket to the cliqueing,
I hear you like a dicking.
You're a ****ing mod dick taker,
it's outrageous.
I ****ing figured you were. This is why I told you to stop posting.
******. ******. ******.
That's the "n" word but it's censored.
Burning grease a ****ing blister.
My job sucks but you still call me mister.
Hey mister, that's ****ing right *****.
Suck my **** some more and I'll probably let you post.
This isn't high school.
This isn't real life.
Slice and dice.
It doesn't matter
tomato splatter.
This is just a website.
Just a ****ing website.
Where we can all put on our cool shades if we want.
But it's still just a sandbox.
Bold Type
An Ironic Poem-
With an Ironic Title-
Because Hipster is the new black;
And I was the blackest G
To ever be
A Hipster;
Writing
Ironic Peoms
Without meaning
Wait, ****, forgot
An Ironic Poem with an Ironic Title because Hipster is the new black and I was the blackest G to ever be a hipster; writing ironic poems without meaning.
I reserve the right to change it. This is more or less a placehold while I see if I can't finish another poem in six days.
Join the Poetry Running Contest!