cloak & dagger

[big baby]

you're
not what i dreamed of
or hoped for, that potential was reached
long before, i harbored emotions in secret
sophomoric sequence, plot twist i saw all along
held my breath for a year, lungs turn carbon to smog
another movie screening, hold hands in between it
reach maximum zenith, whisper "never leave me" under closed palms
so calm. never flinch. a wink and a nod
no blinking for three hours. let that sink in for awhile
lovers island. skipper of ol' overly passionate
fingers stranded in your hair strands, bend over and ask me
a question, do i love you or not
fingertips touching your every hope. every cross
of fingers, wishing we would drift apart
I'm driftwood and you're just another fish in the ocean
lake, spring, river whatever's
spend an eternity painting a picture to think us together
calabaza picking. if i revisit you i get a feeling to itch
uneasy. breeze hits me, the wind changes, while each season commences
we get lazy. it's insane. we never connect but still swing for the fences
up to my neck in words that don't even exist
flood in my pharynx, like phalanxes fighting to fix
squad of anxieties i refuse to acknowledge
perusing the side of me i loosely demolished
smokescreen dagger. condensation hazy opaque
wheatgrass chronicle, diary dripping sanctity. lake
bedstand. siamese twin bed, oak crickety floors
the hole in the wall where my fist lived in before
unroot me where i stand, dandelion seed floating amiss
eve foliage, sin growing vivaciously when
there's ..
quantities of flowers germinating in spring
blooms of orchids in rancor,
tempertantrum fills in the hue
rhythm and blue soapbox
sorted
chrysanthemums
most of its cloak and dagger
it's
become more of a habit
interval time from interacting with humans
irony overlaps boredom and passion
kiss away sadness. verbally vie away the synapses
blood stained flesh from a rose
thorn on a flower.
cry self preservation to keep presence remote
listen in on private conversations.
fly on the wall
i, carry disdain like i tattooed pride on my arm
in light of today, might as well just be dark
people fill rooms with nice decoration
my empty spaces are filled in with looming
distractions. better me, than you. interaction
pencil me in for the 2 o clock in the noon
i'll probably be late for that, too.
terrariums. rattlesnake vein photosynthetic approach
poached eggs for breakfast right on my porch
tap the cigarette on the wood, ash lay on my flowers
i wonder how the fuck they still
grow
but they do

[Geno]

This was rwally dope to me...

so calm. never flinch. a wink and a nod
no blinking for three hours. let that sink in for awhile

Ill be rea reading it but nice work BB

[Exis]

As if you drop shit like this but board like a prick lol...

[Eŋg]

i like bb drops, most of the time, this is one of those times.

but nah, read it thrice and it's really good - makes me want to write.

quite free, your writing, but still very poised. i appreciate that.

[Introvert]

I’d quote this, but requoting the whole damn thing feels silly

The extended metaphor was cleanly carried until it changes, like the seasons. Off rhymes and inter playing rhyme schemes were silly good. Enjambent word choice on point.

10/10 will read several more times.

[Mr. Faggot]

This was the worst shit I ever saw in my whole life

[Lenox]

Originally Posted by Vito Cortez

This was the worst shit I ever saw in my whole life

Fuck off terv

[ACTIVATE SELF]

Mostly boring. Somewhat clever. Intelligent. Unauthentic. Rehashed. Very much recycled. Pretentious, per usual. But also very well written, per usual.


I don't know how you can clone another man's style and get away with it. Nor write the same piece 1 trillion times and not feel like you're cheating yourself or your audience. BUT, at least you have tremendous skill and dope imagery.

[El Muffin]

For someone who talks so much shit u certainly sound like a faggot

[dull boy]

Originally Posted by ACTIVATE SELF

Mostly boring. Somewhat clever. Intelligent. Unauthentic. Rehashed. Very much recycled. Pretentious, per usual. But also very well written, per usual.


I don't know how you can clone another man's style and get away with it. Nor write the same piece 1 trillion times and not feel like you're cheating yourself or your audience. BUT, at least you have tremendous skill and dope imagery.

Who’s style is he cloning? Your critique is thoughtful, but presumptuous. Mind elaborating?

[big baby]

finish him

[ACTIVATE SELF]

I'm finished.

[dull boy]

Stick and move.

[Mr. J]

This was impressive, the beginning is a quick stutter step.
the switch up begins to draw me in and you start to fade away.
you lean into that vibe you bringing & then it sinks in...
and you sit there...as the viewer...trying to piece together that shit.
its poetic in its performance & makes one appreciate the profession
your word use is out of left field and could catch one off guard.
it works, i like it, the whole piece is really nice though
thats all I could fathom to say at thsi point

[Pharaohs Army]

the first half of this was really good... right up until "lived in before". You should end it right there, because after that it looks like you keyed the rest and the rhymes weren't nearly as good as the first half.