P.A.A.B.

And we’re runnin’
Our masks are strapped
Broke into all the shacks
Stole all the guns they refuse to ban
Toss them shits into bags
Pull up to the capital banks
Army soldiers, explosives in hand
Takin’ down doors so the doctors, officers and firefighters can storm the stash
And take their money back
The “leaders” crumbling watching what they consider power topple over
Dying to the people who decide to rise against the structure corruption failed to raise
Thinkin’ something like this would never happen
But it’s here and now
To the streets we flood
Burning the money with the flags
Drenched in blood

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Raise America's Red Flag

The army of blue and white

Blood color doesn’t matter in this fight

Thin tipped tongue rippin’ quick lipped puns

And the badge got a gun

Slick sippin’ the plot thickens

It’s a stickup better run

Stop thinkin’ the clocks tickin’

Shackles off the rack rattles

The chains dangle the hangman caught

Mangled by the boar whored for a cost

No more golden badges lost

Iron bars and supply jobs

Hard work a dime an hour

The blue king sits tall atop the tower built to compensate for how small the coward really is

And takes a piss on all the little kids

But the rise will come quick

Stickin’ it nice and thick

The demise of the pattern

Nicely we’ll shatter the system

Show them it doesn’t matter and free them

Raise America’s Red Flag

Bring blue and white across the line to meet black

Show them all their blood is red and make a fuckin' flag from that

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Cleaning The Driveway

 

Cleaning the Driveway

 

Winter’s cold begins to blow over the old window
White flakes fall as the whistling crescendo comes tall
The panes fog and snow looks like rain on contact, hot
The echo of a metallic scrape takes the climax
Over and over it loops back stuck in the same three second scoop
That shoe rack drips wet next to the dry orange log tossing smoke out the vent
Keeping the porridge warm
Boots out crunch snow loud with the aluminum zoom sound of shoveled pavement
Feels like it’s been days since things have been clear
He’s made it, asphalt no longer needs payment
Complacent, handle is warm
It opens the door steamed rooms and more
Mugged shots of heat to begin its strike at the core

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Headlights, Then Its Dark

...screams, “STAND CLEAR!”

I wake up unable to move
Doctors covered in blood escorting family out of the room
“He’s back! He’s back!” The excited nurse began to assume
But I’d gone nowhere as far as I knew
“The pressure is dropping!” A doctor screams soon after all of the things go dark and the silence it brings goes far

“Don’t let me lose you.” I hear nearby
I open my eyes and I’m surprised and terrified
Barely holding my grip on the side of a tall cliff
If I fall off I’ll meet death
And I’m confused
But at least I’m not dying on the...

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Protest Later

 

Sirens and flashing lights
The loud voices go quiet
The riot dies down
They flash their guns
Badges ready to fire
We’re bystanders frozen in place
As the skin starts the race
Denying what’s right before our faces
“We’ll just protest later”
When it’s clear and we’re safer
Where voicing our thoughts won’t get us in trouble
Won’t involve us in the...

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Dark Out

...by prison bar streets with weaponized infant car seats. And this all happen last week. The future seems quite bleak.

A 40, a blunt, bitches, a fatherless child. A badged crooked blue suit with a slanted smile, gun to the back of the head of a deadbeat teen, nearly a child.

Black lightning invisible against the dark night. Sky scrapers grin down at the prisons they supervise. High steaks and red eyes, high eyes and red steaks are the prize.

Diminish where the finish line is and listen for the crimes hissing by. Whispers hidden in plain sight pissing on the little guy. Whizzing rounds...

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The Puppet Master

Strings dangle tangled in a mess of arms and legs bobbling and jiggling in response to the puppet master
Dolls only think they’re alive, but little do they know their story is controlled by the man behind the curtain
A great pretender lies to the audience and claims entertainment is the reason
Lustful pleasure from the power of control, manipulation of behavior and circumstance
The grand narrative of the underdog rising to the challenge
An audience presents with suspended disbelief and begs for an escape from the mundane nature of reality
The disguise of a tragic story is the most escape from Post-Modern society most will ever encounter
Morbid outrage fills the emotional gap within the jaded viewers
They watch for as long as the shows lasts, for all ends and internal sensation is a rare artifact

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The Old New

The echoes of art bounce off the walls of innovation
Influence is comparable to teaching the method to someone hopeful to improve form
Replication with alteration
The new design inspired by the old blueprints
Tower tops have nifty middle parts stationed on a foundation
Brick stacking with warped familiarity and enhanced complexity
Synonymous with imitation is the act of creation

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Towers

...packed detail into layers under the surface. Excess fat gets cut and disposed of to expose the purest diamonds remaining amongst the rubble of applied pressure and infrastructure collapse. The wisest minds construct complicated yet delicate geometric intricate patterns in stories erected alongside others that are all held together by their singular thread. If pulled, then shattered, shredded. Marble sentences crushed into single words with universes compressed into every letter in ways that’ve not been heard. A fantastic graveyard of blurry vistas, colorless paintings...

 

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Blue on Black Crime

...shut up and stay. On your knees and don’t move, you don’t want to know what happens if you do. What’s in your pocket? A fucking knife? Trying to gamble with your life? Don’t have a wife or someone who cares if you don’t return tonight? Pathetic. Open your mouth and eat this. That’ll teach you a lesson. To walk around these streets with a weapon and threaten civilians. ‘Cause you don’t know no better”

“No. I know my rights and I refuse to do degrading shit to amuse you”
“Who the fuck you think you’re talking to?”
“I’m talking to you...

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Prideful Chill

...contained and applied when the time is right
Used in sync with the stars alignment
To intricately design the electromagnetic mine
Meant to blow the mind, reboot, reintegrate it
A pile of failed attempts at being poetic
Frankenstein and other synthetics
There’s a goldmine somewhere
It’s written in pen, I remember, I read, I wrote it
Questions plague decisions and the precision of the answer
If a million disasters are what it takes I’ll accelerate just to get there faster
Liberated and unconcerned...

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