Tyler Durden's blog: "Brass Knuckle Poets Society"

Soulmate is a term not be abused. I didn't choose... to feel the way I feel for you; reserved and coveted, not to be refused. Am I dreaming? The gift that you instilled is true. You lit the fuse... on a passionate heart that's been scarred and bruised; tarred and used. Like the breath of life, you make me want to start anew. You're the star on a horizon of blacks, blues, and even darker hues. You replaced anxiety with the embrace of peace, and that's hard to do. I've been addicted to your love, since the first time I parted you. The Queen of Hearts, filled me with her song and left the record queued; spinning every second - Enthralled by the Siren, inspired by the Muse. I float on your currents, like the arc that make's the archers arrow cruise. The apple of my mind, Pretty Sparrow, you're a treasure that I cannot lose. Land on my limbs, let's make one from two, let my seed infuse... the emptiness, the need in you. I speak the truth - I fiend for your lovely lips of rouge; I breathe in you...

I respond to your need, like a hunter to the pride. Your the passion that I seek; the huntress by my side.

The bleeding of your past - I'll rip it asunder and redefine... show you wonder when all you knew was lies.

Like a reef, I team with life and you validate me like the sea and tide.

I'll be your foundation when you need to ride, understand you and let you soar after we collide.

Instinct tells me to shield you and hold you tight; encircle you from behind.

When you look in the mirror, the gaze that you feel is mine.

Kaleidoscopic colors swirl in your mind -

Heaven is the way we intertwine, caressing with fingertips... sexy as calypso and nakedness;

the pleasure of our dance, a perfect trip. The passion of your kiss, perfect lips -

I close my eyes and all I see is bliss... not just a gift, but an answer to my wish... you receive me as I crash into your hips.

My gypsy takes it like a whip, and welcomes my tryst. Wear my love on your arm and let me kiss your wrist.

I'll heal the scars on your heart and seal the rips. Love isn't pain - Love is this.

 

My devotion never dies - like a phoenix from the flame, it will always rise... 

transcend.  Mistakes are made by men, but Truth never denies...

what it knows is right.  I hope you love me for my real, and not a facade of lies. 

I wanna hold your hand, for our fingers to blend, and blend the colors in our eyes. 

You feel me for my size, but I want to intertwine your life with mine, 

so our love can never capsize... I want to be your strength in times of sighs. 

Hold on tight - I need your ring finger to refract my light; my gravity is fierce - it never shies.

Please understand, the passion that you possess of mine, is your highest prize. 

I want to be the hand that caresses your cheeks, in times of cries. 

Your love and reason for life - I'll strive to be that, even if it takes a thousand tries. 

I pray to be the steel in your spine and to hold you in times of strife.

Your love is ripe. I wanna pick it apart and when I pick it, I wanna take my time. 

Every rhyme has a reason - you're the Reason that I rhyme. 

I wanna steal Life with you, like Bonny and Clyde, increasin' every crime.

Please don't tease me with your time.  

Any given season, even my breathin's gonna shine. 

I want my love to refract off your every degree,  each crease and every line.

She orbits me without even tryin' and tryna' sever our dance is a treasonous sign.  

I'll explode like a supernova and leave 'em where they lyin'.

My love for you is seethin'; I believe that it's blind. 

But, it can feel and it would take a thousand cretins to bind - even Distance it can climb. 

It's Heaven's pistons when we grind; I want my surname to be yours, and be pleasin' in your mind.

 

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METRONOME  

 

Mmmmm, yeah - that beat is so ill… 
the first time, I saw your walk, I knew… 
I was goin’ in for the kill, 
duplicitous - genteel with a savage will. 
Like the lion on the savannah, who stalks the gazelle… 
So tender with your style, I stood there, straight still,
and stared, stalked, watched, locked on without a fucking care.
I wanted you to look - yeah, gimme that sexy glare.
Your girls were like, “look at him, he’s locked on you, beware…
he wants you… yeah, that beast right there.”
Yeeeah, this beast right here.
I savored the way you tossed your hair,
sexy blond locks, dancing in hypnotic layers…
the way your thighs lusted at me - what a perfect pair.
I wanted your ‘unnnnh,’ 
yeah, I wanted to savor your garden with care,
wanted to till, wanted to show you that I was for motherfuckin’ real.
I wasn’t gon’ stop until, you let me in the middle, ‘til we made a deal,
‘til you responded to my caress, and let me make you cum at will.
I loved to feel you from afar, but I had I had to taste you, near.
I could sense your pheromones so fuckin’ clear.
I wanted to see you in your teddy, wanted to be your bear;
so fuckin’ sexy, I just had to make us a pair.
I used to see you in my mind, when I’d unleash my prayer.
I have to see my reflection in your eyes - 
the way they shine in the light and glow like a brazier,
the way they're cauterized in my mind, it's too much to bear,
to look in the mirror and know that I let you disappear. 
Every time I sense you near me, I just wanna fuckin’ tear,
remove and open and make my heart so fuckin’ clear.
I dare, you to challenge a stallion, 
I’ll make you know that you’re a mare.
I hope you came prepared - I’m built to torture you,
make you cream, make your senses scream and make relaxation severe.
I want to be the reason you have sweet dreams, and live fulfilled.
I want you to understand that I’m a man, 
I ain’t a player, that there’s no games, and that ‘US’ is the thrill.
I want to live to be your dealer and for you to be my solitaire.

Here's a little love story, for LADY KILLA aka ALYK YDAL, or VIDAL SASSOON, or whoever the fuck this Roger Rabbit is. You can click here: LADY KILLA IS THE REALEST for more info, or you can do anything else, pick something at random, and it would be more productive... LADY KILLA's status: LK But On L4D They Call Me Witch-Killah Beeeeeeeeeeeeeitch :D Deb said: Tuesday Hugz [image] The Shining™ - Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: Tuesday Hugz [image] for They Call Me Witch-Killah Beeeeeeeeeeeeeitch [image] - LMFAO The Shining™ - Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: I got that IRA flow; you got no soul, but you like to pretend. I'll slap you with the Red Hand of Ulster again and again, car-bomb your home and stab you in the neck with your own pen. You being alive is a sin - I'll stab you in the neck with your own pen again, shoot you out the sky on your way to heaven like a little wren. The sky is falling and you're a target, you betta' try to blend. I get bent off the Jamie, you just lean over and bend, to receive the glory from me and my men. I'm classical poetry, you look in the mirror and practice bein' a trend. You instigate a tragedy and I illustrate the end. I'm the Undefeated Army - you're Anglo-Saxon. You're like Rodney Danger-bitch, you get no respect, bug-eyed, funny to look at and dead. All you do is make my trigger finger itch and flex, crackles of static shoot to my fingers and straight to your neck. I'll shoot you to pieces and savor the bloody flecks. Taste great less filling, like no milk in a breast. HAHAHHAHA - you're nothing, I don't even need to check. I'll wrap you up for free, like CVS, cum on your face, and come correct. You rap about pain in Maine, and rep PHX. It's real out here, and we make it look easy, the way we Coast on the West. Your family probably hates you - you look like worse than they could ever expect and then you open your face and give 'em even less. LADY KILLA eats Twinkies at snack time. "Mr. №BΘÐҰ"®™ said: Cakes and pies! and cakes again...a down syndrome kid, droolin' all over his bib, it's nap time bitch, and I flip the switch.... The Shining™ - Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: And I caress the open wound, as I knit the stitch, savor it, as I give it a lick, tighten it up, only to fuckin' open it up with a RIP!: Hahahahah - I make myself laugh, the way I rip you to pieces on accident. I drink protein supplements and hit the bench, while you eat Reese's Pieces and contemplate how you're gonna pay your rent. There's no need to fret - I don't mean no disrespect. I just pray that you'll see the light, so I don't have to beat you to death. Eenie-meenie-miny-moe, I avoid your mark ass like the plague, and blow you open like the twat on a tiny ho'. You hella mad; but I'm slappin' dubstep, wit' a spooky violin, wonderin' why I'm so wild, but I'm still smilin', though. You wanna fuck with me, but you just amuse me, so here we go: I just juggle my life, put it out there and terrorize you, like PLO. You light your SOS, but I can't see you, NO - Mr. Invisible, like your fog that floats, I'll make you divisible, dissect body from dome, play with you like a mouse, like Scrooge plays with his dough. I affiliate with cats who keep straps with no serial, like the middle of a cheerio, real killas who'd disrespect you by callin' you 'bro.' You're a waste of human, as useful a gangrenous foot without a big toe. You're a Disney cartoon, I'm Edgar Allen. Motherfucking Poe - pure horror written in eloquence and prose, professional, like I get paid to throw. You just make me throw up, green and yellow, right there on my flo'. You're Alyk Idle... like an engine that doesn't fucking work, it doesn't go. I'm homicidal, suicidal and ready to roll. I could contemplate how retarded you are, but I'd rather go lock a chopper, wish on a star that you explode, and light that shit and blow. AMEN. "Mr. №BΘÐҰ"®™ said: The flow is epic. Like a torrent of rain, a monsoon of ill, I scratch my head still...

Ant the Rant Status: I couldn’t love this chick, it’s a trick she’s a flirt, yeah she got a lot going / pink lips and a short skirt, color contacts in her eyes, Yeah I’m surprised, wanna get rich get your fix from another guy, cause you… S-A-double-V said: She a Sex-in-the-City - a bangin' body, a Soul worthy of Pity, Lookin' hella' shiny, but her flavor kinda' shitty. The hocus-pocus, I refuse to buy it; I need a deeper focus, from the Queen I CHOOSE to ride wit'... Ant the Rant said: wit a smile that disarms, she's in-and-out of his arms, with no regard for whom it harms. red flag alarms, when you suffer through her charms. S-A-double-V said: She a self-esteem bandit, Pobre Cita, raised without her Ten Commandments, left the Righteous Path abandoned. Coulda’ had a man Lovin' her cum, wit' his tongue, while he speakin' Spanish. Ant the Rant said: ...but those days vanish, into thin air. Yeah, I've been there, but I shoulda never went there- in the summer that I spent there, sittin’ in the middle of a distant square, pretending you weren't right there, vacant with a distant stare. S-A-double-V said: I awoke like a sleeping Giant; realized that by the glitter of your visage, I'd been blinded. Your heart had never been mine-it, succumbed to the needs of your Soul's petty whinin', immune to Grace, and pridefully defiant. Ant the Rant said: defiant, self-assured, and un-reliant, memories lost, cut-off... my heart, like cardiac science. your highness, rough roads ahead, words said, were just whispers in bed, spread like wildfires, rising higher, than the thoughts in my head. so here's to wishing you were dead, and a another sip spilt, without guilt, to livin life with no regret. S-A-double-V said: No regrets because time is never wasted; knowledge is power, so the Future, I embraced It. I scraped you off the bottom of my Soul like a Mistake-it's kinda' cold, no matter how I tried I couldn't sate shit. All I can do, is thank you for baseness, and obtain My Equal, in Her appropriate placement. Ant the Rant said: She looks deep into his eyes, hopping to find her reflection inside, there's only enough room for one love of her life, -and that's her. "Tell me more about me" She asks and leans in for the answer. Be carefull, She cares for, only if you are her financer. Flesh for false hope, the mantra of an exotic dancer. Parasitic cancer, asking for you to romance her, with dollar signs, one dollar at a time, one caller at a time, there's others in line, so she keeps her options open, well, don't bother with mine.

S-A-double-V - Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: If we had less clones, I'd have less zones; I wouldn't get this high, or hit as many area codes. Less clones equals fewer molds to break, and less bones. And, speakin' of bones, less clones means fewer domes to wreck, and even less homes... -Each1 Teach1- of Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: brassknucks to the dome, wreck homes like cyclones, fresh coast to midwest, stay fresh my biddness, leave'm floppin on the shore like fish'ez wif no breathes, the freshest no contest, big buds, no compress'd, come catch a caved chest when steppin to these gents..get left on impressed, yer souls we digest, dem bones and dem flows, no contest, so whos next? ANT the RANT of Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: Less is more, unless it's to dress for war, then we just have a mess in store, when red flesh carpet the floor, shirts off fellas let's impress the whores! pushups til my pecks are sore, I'd rather flex a test score, where's all those sexy girls, that cosplay princess Ley, and just wreck my world? hahaha oh you know what I'm talkin bout... S-A-double-V - Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: I'm more or less immune to stress; I flex religiously to rebuke duress, bounty hunt the flesh like Boba Fet; if you stay ready, you crush a vegetable like water cress, eat a clucker like a chicken breast... it's brass knuckle surgery on a nut's chest. I'll go to war nekked, knucks on my fists, and diamonds in my breath. ANT the RANT of Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: With a 4 finger ring, that sing, a sweet lullaby when we swing, whoop BING! Feel the hot sting, and have a good night dream... BKPS runs this thing, like we was track training. We leave the wack waiting. I'm here fact trading, like it was a NASDAQ rating, debating on whether to drop some chedder or push to savings. S-A-double-V - Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: These clones are Aesops, they all fables. We Clydesdales, bashed through the stables... it's non-fiction, there's no debating, bastardize the debate team and beat my chest, verbally berating... the more illegal, the more it's my thang; the fisticuff trading, on some World War II front line wet-thud-thump-ding-bang. ANT the RANT of Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: 1942, fighting to find the truth, foxed holed allied with living proof. snipers on the roof shooting untrue. Not being real is something I just can't do, cover me, I'm coming through, flank the left side with real-talk point-of-view. See them in my scopes, let this trigger do what it gotta do, spew a chorus at you, BK forces, reinforce this dude, hoping to have a break through, to these fake fu's, but looks like we'll have to make do. and pursue perfection on my own two. S-A-double-V - Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: I don't need to fight to find... my strength, bolster my style or my mind. "Still I Rise," and maintain my grind. You can't mimic the phoenix, or doppelgang the pain in my eyes. It's like fourteen nine - conquistador, leave two in the spine; puppet-master these crash test dummies and sever their ties. Ventriloquism spins clockwise from the four-five, and the Red Hand slaps you, 'cause you deserved to be chastised. The might is mine, on some magic tricks like it's D&D time; I'm talkin' bout dick the dimes. They recognize, when they see the sickest sign - Capricorn, leapin' obstacles two at a time. They feel me like braile, but they blind to the sight... of a Mark wit' a bulls-eye in between his eyes. Excuse me, I had to get that off my chest, 'cause real recognize real, and imposters need to die. ANT the RANT of Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: blessed, when the mind overcomes the flesh, discipline at it's best, but lets confess, I'm still human, underneath the surface, every now and then I get a lil nervous, so I test my limets, strap in and work thes, fresh, snow capped mountain in Mammoth, til the sunset or my legs got nothing left. Accept nothing but the best, in this wild wild west. S-A-double-V - Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: I'm addicted to some wild wild sex; I get my respect: kama sutra and kegels, kinetic energies mesh... sixty-nine different ways to connect. It's a mammoth task to some, but to me it's the carbon dioxide in every single breath - I exhale sex, desires of the flesh. I fucked her with my eyes, she winked, like "wha's next?" It's your world, Mamas - I'm just the best. We could blow some snow, take a couple to the neck... air out the 'dro, or pop a li'l ex... but I'm warning you, I'm relentless, an aphrodisiac, and hold I'll you while we rest. Come'ere Mamas - kiss me while you pet my chest, let me get you wet; let me take away your stress, let the snow beast flex. -Each1 Teach1- of Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: my brethren welcome me to the trenches, culture shock via the senses, been shitting 4 days straight and just hit the defenses.. a bullet whisks me awake im thinkin that this'll take more than some getting used to for me to be a use to the team i came to serve with honor that goes unheard blasting like some absurd beserker from out the heard these bullets double as words these nerves double as steel each verse becomes the shrapnel after each gets peeled an explosion from off the chest flesh missing from off my neck i stumble to stagger back get peppered with armored flack so as the plasma i contain finds its freedom from my veins i'm just waiting here for my train and now that i think about it, mother fuck Bahrain...

Each1 Teach1 BrassKnucklePoet said: you can stay primpin, ima stay pimpin these written shurikens into a verbal whirlwind encouraging competition to flourish until the world ends...oh these silly sapiens, im sprinklin color across the page like painting with sick gradients, minglin with fellow aliens, walkin across seas on breezes or stiff tail winds..im ridin until the rail ends..orgasm. then cold grabbem and makem go tell they male friends..todays the day the sale ends, raincheckin and wreckin all comers with all ailments.terminally ill but still spitten prevention medicine..step up and catch rebuttal from these distinguished gentlemen... ArcheType (Marq) said: Hear dat pimpin...Hurlin shurikens? iight, Im like street fightin Ryu screamin ArrrhhYuhket Or Killer instinct inflicting combos out my tool kit Harken back to yester years of dat ill shit When reminisce over of you was the illest Or Paris was spittin that militant tip for the realist Lie: 'when ya buy a rap record.. do ya buy it for dance moves? or do ya buy tracks cuz the lyrics are smooth.? Cuz if ya wanna dance you should stick with the other ones, an leave this dawg alone until the dancin is done...' S-A-double-V - Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: ...until the world ends and the dancin' is done, I'll be makin' bars bend - yeah, I'm fast wit' it, Son. The disease I got flash like a gun - Picasso wit' my tongue... I could paint a stanza, autograph, and fax it to ya'. My lyrical lasso is long - accurate like my eyes affixed to a fat-ass, in a thong. Pass me the baton and I got choice but to run... blink once, and I'm already gone... curlin' syllables around nouns and verbs, makin' 'em menage et trois... high-def wit' the blazey-blah. You can hear, taste smell and touch... my thoughts - hazy? Nah... like ecstacy on cocaine - but way more raw. Until the world ends, I'll be in a circle, curlin' grape around purple, tradin' verbals - exhalin' combustables out my jaws... ANT ᵀᴴᴱ ЯANT of Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: Breathe out a heatwave, the prodigy seeks play, since the streets days, of roamin like a Roman, in Bellvitge, I'm a long ways from my home, different continent- I'm grown, off on my own, but with confidence shown, I never copy or clone, sloppy or thrown, when I rock these microphones, step off, leave it alone, or like my cock you'll get blown, right before I'm gone, Nena de pelo marrón, como Eva Perón, I'll leave a spot on the top of your tail bone, and sail on before dawn. ArcheType (Marq) said: Riigh Riigh, We be flying friendly skies, Rhymes & lyric's the high, Where soliloquies massage similes so deeply that metaphors get envious Spittin syllables for these silly bulls.. shit choke artist, wrap they tongue around they mind, got both of'em str8 twisted.. Like ZOOOM .. over they head cuz they missed it, Get ya weight up, get ya mind right You over par in the course called life Intellect lacks so you call it collect No honor in ignorance, Whats to respect? Haha, this a rope-a-dope, an u tha joke It dont stop with a tko, No mercy, nope. Cuz I brutally beat busta's brainless A beast bustin bones... but blameless S-A-double-V - Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: I'm blameless... naked, I stand shameless. Flawless, like a ninety degree angle - she can't name this. We'll call it ice-pick penetration. Priceless; my ism is art - they need to frame this. I steal her breath, and leave other Alpha's nameless... Jon-Doe-Toe-Tag and open casket face lift. Beta's and Gamma's... well shit, they get castrated - shhh... don't be agitated, it'll be painless. I got balls like Rodeos, so bring the pain - I'll entertain it. Capricorn - overcoming obstacles is my nature... my life, pursuant to trials and tribulations. I'm certified, purified... by the fire and the flame; I'm used to bein' hated, so stand in line and keep waitin'. I throw up the Devil's Horns and keep skatin'… ANT ᵀᴴᴱ ЯANT of Brass Knuckle Poets Society said: Wit triples sixes, I blitz this, mic, wit the quickness, gifted, but on some sick shit, it's a habit when I rip this, flesh, like some slit wrists, on ya mistress, she put on a good show tho, sorry you missed it, drip-drip, is what it did-did, when this kid, slid, his dick in, the chicken, was kickin', pulled her in, the kitchen, trash compact'in, fliped the switch'n, put her fist in, watch'n her grimacin', grinnin, as I'm listen'n, her insides twistin from the pain it's in... I'm vio'lent, the moans went sio'lent, tried to untie her when, I thought I heard some sio-rens, I think it's time to say bye my friends... lock your doors or else I might come by again. Each1 Teach1 BrassKnucklePoet said: he's triple 6's, im stickin to double digits.. snake eye'n on the prize like anacondas on sick midgets.. i smoke until im lifted.. needing handicapped assistance, with a gold medalist's persistence im shaping my own existence into something thats consistent. with this lil life o'mines, im spitten'til its quitin time whend you ever design a line, to baffle one of mine? competitions fine .. but lets lay it on the line.. if you wanna tussle with muscles you'll get smashed to turnbuckles. catch knuckle and chuckles from this cat and his hustles. cause im rustling wranglers and dismembering strangers. come and walk with me we'll discuss our inner angers...

Slow me to trot, and revel as I maintain; communicate your thoughts, with the way you ride my frame - squeeze me with your thighs, I'll work into gallop; if you want to feel my gait, tease your tongue across my palate. Choke me by the neck, pull on my rains - I'll lurch, and I'll buck and I'll pound, from the pain. Master and Her Beast, they're one and the same - verbalization unnecessary, your body commands my name. I delight in my purpose, to surge, and to drive, to glisten with sweat, and to bring you alive. Harness my breeding, put me to the test; ride me 'til you're sore and you're ready to rest. To a quarter-horse you're no burden, this is only a tryst - I was chiseled for your purpose, I was made for this. Master and Her Beast, they're one and the same - the rhythm, the rush, and the pulling of mane.