I know there are already verse and rhyming threads but didn't find one specifically for poetic rhyme schemes which are metaphorically rich, thought inducing, reality fabricating, anything denser or deeper than slapping a bitch with your dick . Feel free to post it here I'm shedding thousands of skin cells every time my mind dwells in amazement, it don't matter whether im stuck in a basement, cus deep inside i'm everywhere and of newtonian physical laws i'm unaware and in reality i just dont care, they dont apply to my real form. i'm a metamorphosis of the specific mo--ment i shift and i splatter i disassemble my own patterns, i'm a lake burning in saturn and im here typing this in the latter. Before the sooner can consume me i will embrace change even though it might sound looney. When i fucked im mesmerized by the fact that all i'm doing is me. I feel a sudden urge to burst some how or another try to find a way to quench this thirst and i mean it in the most literal sense my insides are compacted and overflowing with dense--ity not to stick with one identity feel the stars enriched guts in me adding branches to the tree, i wanna explicitly blist blissfully it aint enough to express it lyrically wear a lion skin like heracles, turn you instantly into stone with a gaze of the unknown with all thats left out to perform wear a mask into the storm and keep it as if it were your own.
i love the perspiring of the figurines dancing over a fiery reign, gathered into a circle forming flesh bone rings, casting out blue fire, what a way to acquire a thing not bound to satire, bust my head out with some wires, till the explosion is entire. So when the eagle sees it his mind conceives it, he eats it and believes it knowing he cant hit reset. Its decent to descend an ear to lend a friend as you bend the equinox to your extend, as you contemplate whether to surrend, The shaman rocks about on his hammock, in his head theres a burst out of havoc, having the after effects of his brew, he looks at the sky seeing it is no longer blue, recollecting pieces that deep inside he always knew. figuiring out the taste of the tobacco that he chewed. seeing life from a perspective that seems crude, his heart beating as hard and organic as wood. Sorrounded by an aura of junglian scents each with a different mood. Feeling the intensity of his visionary cycles as he stood