Something to scrawl across a Cathedral wall

In the name of Religious Intolerance?
It’s fair game, any vicious, bothersome nonsense.
Eat a used condom, gutter fare.
What I utter is fair.
Love and War.
It’s all there.

Cunning with grace, fun with distaste, running in place.
Shit gets costlier everyday.
So I’m grinding every bit of play, finding the way.
I shook from hunger, now I’m looking for comfort.
A lifetime of blunders and strife brought me under but never took my thunder.

If you’re devious, life’s a game.
Mischievous to rearrange previous frames before leaving this lane.
If you’re dirty life’s a game.
Flirty and nerdy, trained-- swirls of change unfurl a squirrelly brain.
Trapped economically,
A jabberwockie yabbering hypnotically,
Enrapt in my philosophy.

This lore self-forms.
Before I was born, Loki came to me in the sequel.
Looked into his eyes and saw we were the same kind of people.
Strangely regal.
Insane and evil.
Plainly unbelievable.
Underground like veins of treacle.
This is the sound of no retreat yo!

Grin and battle, use the war.
Spin my prattle, two by four.
It’s not a weapon, a sword.
Reckon it’s just a board.
The how is there, to build.
Like plowshares churning swill to turn hurtful disguises of curs into fertilizer.

Quick and disturbed, twisting words, burning haze and turning a phrase.
When I burn my plays, none can turn away.
So I stick to a mural like egg whites in early days.
Reg what I write, it’s a burly play!

Bust to rip my wit.
Trust I’ll never flubber, my tip is rubbered like a visit to your mother.
Slip in her juice, so wet and loose, she won’t let me through til I did what I came to do!
No stranger to the muddled sum, the danger in her puddle of cum, she said
“I wanna cuddle some”
I’m befuddled, gotta run!

Lunge and follow through, hungry to prove, kung fu is overpaying dues.
Wonder too what blunders and bothers.
Underwater, so liquid while picking up praying mantis…
Licks written to play for Atlantis.
Test my developmental weight, mental state whenever I step to the plate
I prod with agility the very odds of probability to rewhittle my fate!

From up top the dragon stalks, preying from the sky.
Cops dragging you down to the sidewalk.
No lie.
They don’t stop ‘til you’re inside their chalk.
Their eyes?
See your iller tracks as filler for the cracks.
To them that stalk we’re just the caulk.
Armed bill collectors bagging those who reject the blur
For the dragons who expect a tax per soul.
Attacks on our roll?
They’ll keep in the struggle but never will me or my peeps be muzzled!

Cold capers I hold and wager and folded paper departs like Origami Art…
I get sore and it calms my heart, to release war in bombs I free from the start.
Subliminal plans jive and in my pineal gland stay alive bereft after my own death!

If no one’s the same then it’s my own brain that’s alone to blame for the zone of my game.
So I’m into atone to rearrange every situ and let it fit to…
Devilishly disrupt and level up, get my head past the ruckus to gush for the very rush of sustenance.
It’s such a sense of crushing my very essence in every sentence!


Aftermath:

My descent into this scene?
From dissent I was weaned.
Revolutionary rhetoric in breastmilk.
Evolution set me quick to check this.
I appear where there’s strife.
Fear IS my life.
Every night is sleights and taunts against my fight or flight response.
I’m left with no rights, been conned.
So I’m deft to re-write every tragic song like graphic bombs were my magic wand!

A riddle of elation under my canopy.
A little relating to the insanity.
Whittled manipulation: Christianity brings the rift.
Civilization is humanity’s swing shift.
I spy my beef and later ply my beats like a Satyr.
Tried the beliefs of those thieves and dictators,
I mean high priests and traders.
But my eyes were wide and later?
No relief when I asked why and was only catered!

Jive so loose, I’m most alive in a noose.
I dive as well into Hell.
I choose to carry and gel to my mission, like a parallel division.
I’m aware with vision, never bespelled by illusion.
Truth is the juice I’m using.
Never sterilize my weapon, better to paralyze in the first second than parry and threaten.
Blare what’s wise on inspection.
Ahead of shit my cred is in never editing a single bit.
Instead I bled for my wit!

Hard heart to free, troubled by strife.
Art is the fee to my double life.
If you had a start like me, huddled in the night?
You’d be a part of the hustle, with cards of rebuttal, subtle as a knife, nutter’s advice.
Shouldn’t have puzzled me twice!

Graphic crag and grace, plastic bag on my face…
Plastic bag cunnilingus, it’s tragic but it tingles thus.
Asphyxiation pussy tasting, a fixation on pushing a statement,
Check the bile in which I drown,
Turn the girl into a necrophile when I go downtown!

Allow me to be the first to mention.
Off the brow your dome will burst in a second.
The how is my curse of reflectin’.
The sum I fill- murderously slaying blitz?
Run ill- each beat I spill- placed to fit.
Until my words fit a matrix.
Developmental balms and mental bombs sent to embolden on.
Essential like the Golden Dawn.

Toys come alive, homicidal joy strived, zombie jus-jus employed inside.
Build-A-Were-Bear Workshop gave out free samples.
A craven spree trample, making doubters into examples.
Grow up and believe nightmares were mere myths?
When you show up and cleave--
You’ll be right to dare.
It’s fear mist that clears the rift to exist!