THE OPEN MIC CYPHER

[e11even]

Originally Posted by Vividlyvague

Surgically clumsy, but I'm still surgical bitch,
A sturgeon in this ocean of fits as I throw up metaphorical fins.
Historical oracle, predicting your every forfeit- I win,
As morbid as laughter at rigormortis as I border ur fence...
A hoarder of limbs of different boaders I have cornered n' minced,
with their whores in my porn corridors as I perform my attempts...
At ensemination... orgasms til boardem signals obliteration...
More instestine and spinal segment tapings draping my Veil of Sadists.

Impaling's native... all hell breaks... loose? nope. It's God's creation.
So I harness it. An excuse farmers use for illegal harvest and cultivation.
Bar none. Poker bars done. She squirms in frightful terror on bar one.
Burned til the color has tarred some, then amputation-to-salt runs.
I'm cooked but not done. A medicinal haze fills this dungeon of ours...
Her mind's ventured to Mars. I undid the bra of this, now quadropalegic, and saw...
What dedication exists in a living zombie needing to exist after it all.
Fifth limb dislodged in her jaw. Tearing. A searing to the foundation of her mental, it's walls
Peeling. I'm feeling like I'm appealing the laws. Like I'm above the flashlights you see in a mall.
Like OJ is confessing to me like, "See? You agree with me, Dog?"
I chuckle in triumph as the load is released. One reload and a squeeze
and his bitch's limp whole is thrown in the sea.

...and I got away with it, ho. Behold, I alone am opposing your peace.
Die... and when you do, may it be so holding disease.

[Wise Wiggles]

Look at my face. Am I damaged or what?
The pen's a million pounds & I can't pick it up
Fuck cancer, it's sucks. Turns buds to phantoms & duds
Dude grasping for straws, trying to capture his guts
This camel is bunk. Fucking flatter than hump days
Gaze at life in black & white? Is it all panda's & skunks?
This is saddness, no funks. Im passive, abrupt.
Leave out'a no where,
This shits happens when love packs in too much
And rips the bag of your lunch.

[dull boy]

The captain of crunch. Fuck, I've been battered 'til numb.
Shattered to shrapnel. Scattered like dust over the matters of love.
Shut the trust. Don't let her at it. We'll bust. Speak of myself like another so I don't have to see what
happened. Enough. So much has past. Passing me up.
Lives I never lived but had in my clutch. Laugh like I'm dumb
and can't imagine what's done. Never have recapture what I can't grasp, so I shut
my trap. I play happy. Passive and stuck. Half a dad. Half a son. Hole in my guts.
Holding my nuts. Emboldened by fun. The type that's lonely and rusts
your soul at the plugs. Get into it. Sift through this, it's supposed to be... supposed to be? Hush.
Nothing's supposed be. Go on. Hold your rosary, nun. No amount of prayer ever spared me from cuts.

[Wise Wiggles]

I'm bout to carry the sun. Having fun? Carrie's begun
My demons always dare me to run. Overbearing as fuck..
I had it all & forgot to bury the crumbs.
Shining shit but I ain't sharing the rum
Read the other day that the air needs a thumb
But I'm a downer, rounding life off for the midnight clowners
The spins, twice found ya.

[Matriarch]

Movie screen. Beauty scene. Pious and perjury
Lies, trusts. Occurrences. Our eyes are the verdict.
Peaceful plot point - an exposition swelling the flat line
it’s a paradox! Walking death - posthumous prime-time
inside this box. expression’s contorted in angles
vivid views; digital clues dished - imprisoned by rainbow
vicarious vice - living an all too lavish condition
life of the fabulous. Imagine us of fat disposition!
The music! The cash! Scripts written, story is known
Now for some dialogue...before the greatest story is told
Dialogue

*insert dialogue here _________________________

[e11even]

"What of it, mate?" Exclaiming proudly, awaiting his take...
Guns in my face, stuck as fly pape, only way is down, as this life's skyscraped.
Wallet on my desk at work. Stash in my bike. Bike in my driveway.
Driveway in another town... "Hurry up monkey! Time's my money! It's Friday!"
...

[e11even]

Originally Posted by Vividlyvague

"What of it, mate?" Exclaiming proudly, awaiting his take...
Guns in my face, stuck as fly pape, only way is down, as this life's skyscraped.
Wallet on my desk at work. Stash in my bike. Bike in my driveway.
Driveway in another town... "Hurry up monkey! Time's my money! It's Friday!"
...

I muster the moxy by proxy of no option,
"I ain't got that shit... and if ya'll pop me, there's no profit!"
Deep in thought, he fiddles his kurambit.
"Take me to it, you bloody liar!" Knife to my esophagus,
"If you cross me, that whore you lie with
Will be but a spent memory in a coffin!"
...

[Eŋg]

kind of funny: it's then i get paid my wage,
not sure that's worth it when a pleb gazes sideways:
i'll take a shit on the clock
(but not literally, they're too high, right on the wall)
my pace & rhythm won't stop
a jot physically. i lose my mind to the chore,
Time is a whore & mine's such a bore.
you don't have it better;
we're all faltering. in this cold haggard weather
the air's raw. sauntering in a slow, ambled, measure
in a holed, fabric sweater's the soul's placid pleasure.
from a pen stems the sentiment,
it lends a line, or ten:
i remember being reminded i'm alive again.

[Wise Wiggles]

My eyelids blend & morph to liquid
Abortion clinic line to Portland's picnic
For the party people who snort or lick it
Borgore delicious. More warped than envisioned
Girls looking like Gordo the midget..
Fuck sleep. Walk through the portal to kick it

[Natural]

Boot up you're computer and log into ya User
Shoot up the energy made by all of the fuses
No excuses to make when you honor ya duty
Slave to this mechanical box I'm manic n moody
Don't panic when moving to reality from foolery
The matrix be pulling me into its grasp tuning me
Clasp the perfume of human humor and humility
Are you feeling me when I reveal that I'm villainous?

[e11even]

...or do you intend to humor me?
Your tune muses... and is but a fuel I seek.
Bleeding a hue new to me, i'm imbued in this blue jewelry
you call a mood. I seek to approve, but if you're confusing
me with one who'd care for your losing yourself, you might, indeed, be losing sleep.
You seek to improve. I'm choosing my newest me
from a room of suits by the coolest elite:
me, myself, and I. now move. we must make room for the losers-to-be.

[Natural]

Originally Posted by Vividlyvague

...or do you intend to humor me?
Your tune muses... and is but a fuel I seek.
Bleeding a hue new to me, i'm imbued in this blue jewelry
you call a mood. I seek to approve, but if you're confusing
me with one who'd care for your losing yourself, you might, indeed, be losing sleep.
You seek to improve. I'm choosing my newest me
from a room of suits by the coolest elite:
me, myself, and I. now move. we must make room for the losers-to-be.

No cruising for me I'm a dangerous breed, became famous with speed
I was nameless but now I'm named the motha fuckin greatest to free
I'm outrageously deep into the favorites list of all the latest emcees
Terminator of beef, germinater of success, elevate after my death
It all equates to a gladiator who's created a legend legacy left

[dull boy]

You can cultivate genius. Most relate pieces of prose to states seen in their own forays. We just
provoke and play. Treat it like a role. The paint teases your soul to stay. Reading a poem in plain English
as a code that takes meaning. Culminate thesis.

[Mr. J]

Giving the crowd pleasers amnesia
a quart of anesthesia. the main feature
toucan sam with a 5th of Gin
fruitful earnings displaced ligaments
Oh no its him again...
eating all the Snickers & m&ms

[dead man]

wrote into a pigeonhole. hopelessly living digital
many pose likes hoes, fallopian in the centerfold
coexistence is sensible. onerous and predictable
old religions and metronomes - both of these are dispensable
colder shoulders than eskimo, frozen like stouffer's vegetables
feel your heart racing. hold your composure, let it go

[Tyrion Lannister]

Hold your composure, let it go
hoes hold on my testicles
bitches like "no that's an exit" NO that's my receptacle
Regal sepulcher; bury my long dwarfish tentacle
Dionysian wine fiend turned source of the spectacle
Regal plot - evil docks on King's landing respectable...
Furture dwarf GAWD plotting where panties are plentiful...

[PancakeBrah]

Blue orchid. Thumping bass pedal,
I'm dumb. I enjoy Winter. I employ mettle.
This wave isn't as fun as the last. If I keep thumping the past
maybe some nostalgia will spill out, and I'll write it up as a rap.
It's about as fun as pushing your thumb on a tack. These are dog days.
There's only so many ways to shoehorn gossamer, coffee, and cross-legged
in a text verse. And I'm much too sober for carrying schemes perfectly.
Nary. I should be off, finding a Mary in which to bury my dreams.
Or in a field. Urgently. Not toiling, trolling away on the deserted lime green,
but I'm disenfranchised enough, currently. I'm equipped with rhyme schemes!
In the running for ninth place! in a hobby Eminem doesn't pay child support for
but #1 in the power ranks for 'Who can be more bored?'
My creativity's dried up. Exasperated at five.
I just want to rest, lift, and look for the next challenge to find.

[Natural]

Originally Posted by PancakeBrah

Blue orchid. Thumping bass pedal,
I'm dumb. I enjoy Winter. I employ mettle.
This wave isn't as fun as the last. If I keep thumping the past
maybe some nostalgia will spill out, and I'll write it up as a rap.
It's about as fun as pushing your thumb on a tack. These are dog days.
There's only so many ways to shoehorn gossamer, coffee, and cross-legged
in a text verse. And I'm much too sober for carrying schemes perfectly.
Nary. I should be off, finding a Mary in which to bury my dreams.
Or in a field. Urgently. Not toiling, trolling away on the deserted lime green,
but I'm disenfranchised enough, currently. I'm equipped with rhyme schemes!
In the running for ninth place! in a hobby Eminem doesn't pay child support for
but #1 in the power ranks for 'Who can be more bored?'
My creativity's dried up. Exasperated at five.
I just want to rest, lift, and look for the next challenge to find.

Then you should try drinking up a thousand gallons of wine
Intertwined with trying to walk the sobriety line and act fine
Embrace the denial and swear the problem is theirs not mine
Look out for the wall, stumble, fall and bounce like a basketball
The ground just had to act like an ass and start a nasty brawl

[dead man]

au naturale. fuck a nasty brawl
dive headfirst into a shallow pond of adderall
then you'll feel creative and stupid all at the same time
white linen and aged wine
sipping it through the grapevine

[NYCSPITZ]

Magic mouse huge chillin in the tree to the north
Benevolent, pacifist king. A demon of sorts.
Dust spirits soar to night skies, believe in the course
Silence sings its golden tune in relief of the chorus