Some stuff that rhymes (intended viewing rez; 1162x864 or higher)

Monday, December 14, 2009

A Clown's Facade

They know my fight
they know my cause

you know i'm right
the crowd applauds

extend my spite
my entourage

befriend the light
surround the dogs

defend with might
the brown garage

ascend through fright
confound by laws

transcend delight
profound mirage

no scent
no sight
no sound of gods

descend from heights
i'm proud of flaws

i'll spend the night
i'm bound by odds

my friend
my plight...

a clown's facade.
~Longshaft

Friday, December 11, 2009

...Or So I'm Told

Caressing one's ego and assaulting their modesty is a volatile mixture that results in dishonesty
more often than not
or at least so i'm told
the elixir won't be bought cuz it can never be sold

it's kept in a pitcher that's a thousand years old
a recipe forged in a time long forgotten
concealed behind doors that appear to be rotten and ravaged by wars in a land misbegotten

we walked on all fours across vast fields of cotton
we stood at the shore and awaited the shaman

some are still there
some are likely dead
but none of us care cuz we haven't been fed.
~Longshaft

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Confess

Write it off as tough luck
have another bong blast
somber and shameless
cuz i'm
Buck Fuckin' Longshaft!
wandering aimless

i ponder this nameless army as it marches down the wrong path
blindly led to slaughter for they covet what the strong have

one can be at peace
or live in fear of god's wrath and child-molesting priests with their coloured panes of long glass

is it yet to be
or has it come and gone past?
safer bets seem clearest when the rules are shown in contrast but never shall the dearest of her fools atone this psalm.

~Buck F. Longshaft

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Smelling Salts

Well you see
part of me
would really like to be the one to tell you
to shop at the Gap
to buy a new sweater
that the quality of life is getting better
but what hurts is the truth
that it's only getting worse
and there'll be nothing for the youth of tomorrow
so don't swallow lies and remember that the promises are hollow when they're made by George Bush
to him
war is a sport
he wasn't even elected
it was up to the courts
to decide
who'd reside
at the top o' the world
and so the story unfurled
when they chose the mad man
Yosemite Sam with his hand on the red button and he aint bluffin'
all for greed
all for oil
all for nothin'
enforcing laws against certain ways of fuckin'
and certain types of smoke
but
Cheney had a stroke
when
Gore won the popular vote

but still
Bush cheated all of us
with some help from his brother Jeb
he's the governor of Florida
and what's more are the
endless allegations of police confrontations to stop black people from votin' throughout the nation
but these things won't be said on your corporate TV stations
instead they'll spread misinformation
use words like "Liberation"
"War"
and "U.S. led occupation"
but they'll always fail to mention that it's illegal

so beware the american eagle.

~Longshaft

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Deep Shit

Well
lord knows
that high hopes
can haunt folks
like old ghosts
with torn clothes
and slit throats
cuz shit floats
and grows roots
and taints votes
and bears fruit

it takes notes
and stains boots
and slows boats
and recruits
from turncoats
in plain suits
to show hosts
that play flutes

it works hard
and pays bills
and counts cards
and takes pills

it stands tall
but can't run
from curve balls
and bad lungs
to crank calls
and hair buns

It's tears fall
when rain comes

it spoils all
and spares
none.
~Longshaft

Monday, December 7, 2009

A Fair Proposal

Fair proposals and modest cuts
quick disposal of honest bluffs

half a slave and half a Christian

save the world
fuck the system

stand together and bleed as one
that something good will one day come

every creed and all religions

save the world
fuck the system

the hands of peace and fists of war
the richest feast we've seen before

now a man but once a victim

save the world
fuck the system.
~Longshaft

Sunday, December 6, 2009

The Obstacle

The cry of the weak
the song of the dead
the words that i seek have never been said

they're charred on a scroll that has never been read for the guard at the toll wields an axe made of lead

he looks like a troll and he knows where you've tread
he'll measure your soul and sever your head

the goods that i've stole
the buckets i've bled
he passed me his bowl and i broketh my bread.

~Longshaft

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Single-Handed

Some call it poetry
some call it a fad

admittedly; most of it is pitifully sad
but i'm doing this willingly

this headache is killing me
maybe they would stop it if i taught 'em some humility

show 'em who's the king
choke 'em little bastards with their own fuckin' bling

ruthless and pathetic like indoctrinated vultures
gnawing at the carcass of their own synthetic culture and poisoning their progeny with lyrics of misogyny

automatic weapons and material possessions
its lunacy!
the way that they foolishly worship jewellery and spread their awful lessons in the heads of adolescents.

~Longshaft

Friday, December 4, 2009

Progress

Year upon year
and
city after city
a system of fear in a world without pity
where
all those who populate it must be indoctrinated
by
channel after channel of ridiculous distortions
glorified historicide
meticulous proportions
contortions
conspicuous
perpetually horrified
kneeling t'ord the precipice and tired of misfortune.
~Longshaft

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Weapons Of Choice

I talk with a stammer
walk softly and carry a sledgehammer but my weapons of choice are my pen and my voice

my wounds are still moist though and there's no time to rejoice
when the part-time-insurgent slash former-insurance-salesman just key'd your Rolls Royce cuz your fuckin' system failed 'em

prepare to be greeted
shut up and remain seated
the following announcements will not be repeated

at times a tad pretentious
the mad apprentice that rhymes is yet to be defeated

two questions for every answer
emotions wrapped in poetry
I've spoken to the oceans and god is a belly dancer

we met once on a notion and she told me the cure for cancer but i couldn't make the potion cuz i didn't understand her

maybe it was all a dream or maybe i'm just full o' shit
but things are not quite what they seem
of this i know
I'm sure of it.
~Longshaft

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Fog

While still in recovery from a bout with sobriety i made a discovery
way down inside o' me

the hand that once guided me had begun to feel smothering
'til all that i tried to see was cloaked in it's covering

a subtle discolouring over all of society where i share in the suffering
of those who confide in me.

~Longshaft

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

All That Is Left

First things last
and last things'll be firstly
it's hard to hide the past but it's cheap to bribe the thirsty

the spawn of those who'd yet to die could best describe the pesticide
anesthetized and left aside
they wept and cried for mercy

i know cuz i was there
and like the rest
nobody heard me

and now this hollow prayer is all that's left to haunt and hurt me.

~Longshaft

Followers