If you add -uini to my favorite murder weapon it becomes an italian dish. Machetteuini~!

[BWHAHA]

w.e just read -_____-

Interplanetary takeover. This is phase transitory : Snake Cobra
Magnify the absent void. But I’m asking more; for you to stay covert.
A thousand flames. No alibi. Fragmentary blaze smolders
I face statutory rape charges, for just acting strange, I make noises.
The masqueraded grave swordsmen. Analyzing cloudy days to stay home.
In my lavatory I lay off, examine the way I make boners. Canonized.
Then act as if my stiffies' Cassius Clay. When I jab in place, your dame.
"Hey, he has a blade. And in his grasp, he has her hair. He’s crazed. Over"
Some call me a coward, cause I close my eyes when I stuck this butterfly knife
Into your tower. I’m energized more. And the shower of blood. Gives me power.
Cause they say your senses flourish mature, when you deprive one of yours.
It’s like the holiest war, when I devour. The side. That supports, your spinal accord.
I can only surmise you wouldn’t survive based on encounters.
Surprise you with flowers. Then deflower you as a surprise. Then you die.
Lead the police, on a brief chase. In my boxers.
Hi-jack the helicopter. While heaving a briefcase.
Read the cease & desist. Off the teleprompter.
Text centered, to me I cant believe! They told me!
To “not do it again” in red letters.
Mortal combat, with a moral contrast. I’m sorta aroused, you THINK you could lay a finger on me.
I’ll write circles around you. Literally using figures of speech.
Til’ my pencil is purple. And black and blue. And it hurts your profound muse.
But it’s back to square one, when I triangulate your position
I innately make the volition. The brush-strokes paint the vague illustration.
Feel alive. Ejaculate ammunition. I’m anal.
Hunched-over with my scope. The initial, gay stimulation.
I mean gay as in happy. I grin at the bloodshed.
Pick-up full of punks’ heads. But they stay in the cabby.
Vonnegut. My zen is a monument. The hot ink that discharges
Is like lava melting. It’s off the spittle. My carpal skips. It’s Armageddon.
The arsonist. My blood boils so hot, I need a closed-circuit turbulent.
On the inside of my arms, there is a tourniquet where my veins weld karma rips.
I could predict verbally what you thought to think.
Sketch/draw your in-door coordinates just by rearranging jigsaw portion grids.
Play pinball with your organs. And organize a circus for all the kids.
I’m this close to going haywire. THIS close to an argument.
Pen doctor. With a pen doctorate. Making sick calls to the journalist.
Withdrawn. And I’m awkward. Hocking up spitballs to hit all six of your chakra blips.
Playing pingpong in the garden, in the fifth floor of my parliament.
I’m a mixed cross, from a novelist, and the sixth boss from Mortal Kombat in Tournament.
Alone in my vortex, I script warble vomit. Warped in formal conscious.
I’m alone, and going forwards, backwhÆrd we started.

[BWHAHA]

I wrote to dis ;'(!!!

[Wise Wiggles]

I love organ pin ball.

Annnnd

this TITE yo

[Darth Yoda]

The sixth boss from Mortal Kombat in tournament.

[Mr. J]

Surprise you with flowers. Then deflower you as a surprise. Then you die.


This line alone was great to me....it speaks so many levels
either way I'm digging the whole piece my dude, absurd in so many ways
the way you play with vocab and use your lines raise it to a different level
it's nice to see you drop again...keep writing

[NYCSPITZ]

u got way beeter props gawd

[Certain]

I read it but am not sure if you want feedback.

[BWHAHA]

thank u mr j. yes feedback is allowed?????????? !!!

pancake -_- :-)

[Certain]

Darth Yoda is my friend, and I like him most. But you're OK. I don't play word games on my smart phone, so we probably won't ever be friends.

This verse read like something BWHAHA would write because it had a lot of multiple-syllable rhymes like something Void would write but then it had the sexual murder content like Zombie. BWHAHA seems to be somewhere between Void and Zombie, but he might be better. No one really writes like you except your friends who may not be your friends and may instead be you using other names or may be people you don't know whom you've formed aliances with to confuse us here. That's fine anyway. I like your style a lot because it's all over the place but in a good way.

I read Bonfire of the Vanities by Tom Wolfe recently. It's a great book, and I think you'd like it. He uses a lot of stop-and-start writing and exclamation points, which I used to hate. But you use exclamation point and stop-and-start writing, too. Maybe you're also Tom Wolfe. That would be interesting. Either way, I think the use of this style makes the jumpiness of it all feel intense and confused and good, sort of like a swirling My Bloody Valentine song with that central voice holding it all together.

I didn't think you needed to put words in italics. I know what shapes are and would have been able to connect those shapes. It makes me wonder if some of the other connections I draw in your verses are actually unintentional, not that intent really should define the value of art.

Sometimes your words make little sense. Mostly you're creating loosely associated images. But you write them with such clarity that they feel important, even if they inevitably aren't. I'd like to see you write about one thing sometime, though.

[dull boy]

I like this guy ^

[PancakeBrah]

I gave three bucks to a 'homeless' guy today after buying Madden 25, a three month supply of Optimum Nutrition Whey protein, and a meal consisting of a bacon cheeseburger (no pickles, or mustard), smashfries, and a strawberry shake from Smashburger. I gave him the money, which is something I never do, because of his sign. It looked like this;

EMBARRAST
but need money
even a dollar helps.

[Certain]

At least he has good, clear handwriting.

[oats]

I like:


On the inside of my arms, there is a tourniquet where my veins weld karma rips.

till the end.

[REAL LIFE]

YOU NEED MENTAL HELP.

[beegee]

hahhaha what??

Feel alive. Ejaculate ammunition. I’m anal.
Hunched-over with my scope. The initial, gay stimulation.
I mean gay as in happy. I grin at the bloodshed.
Pick-up full of punks’ heads. But they stay in the cabby.


this was a funny piece.
I did even try to pic up the flow there was too much content.
interesting place you took my mind with this one.
droppin alot of feed today but some of you guys are crazy.

i would def read more.

[Darth Yoda]

brough im schizophrenic u shud wash out im scary