the rum soaked fist: internal martial arts forum

Let's share openly together. I'll start

Far away in the dark
Eyes witnessing the tiniest spark
Full of courage
New journey about to embark
Sudden flight
Delicious light amidst the blight
An arc of electricity
Between you and me
What's there left to see
Engage your fantasy

On the minute of the hour of the morn of the day,
The wizard came out to play.
Sublime and mundane, serene and profane,
The wizard learned how to pray.

"Free me from the shackles my own fists hold together,
Whisper secrets
into my crusty eyes.
Power flows to and through me
I am vessel
I am the skye."

And silence met the wizard's words
as sea meets shore and air meets land
as fire crossing millions of empty miles
meeting flesh
becomes God's active hand.

At the minute of the hour at the close of the day
The wizard flew back to his home
Clear intention like a raptor
diving, striking in the night
The results, as of yet, unknown.

Bro next time take me to dinner first before you treat me like that God damn that was beautiful

Turn your life into something that's worth of poetry that travels across towns

My new motto, I like it

There is peace in love and a slight breeze in serenity that touches your soul. You only got to believe~~~

You guys are too good.

Tree hugging
A bit boring
Energy flowing
Get it going
Less Yang more Yin
More Rum
Less Fist
Learn jin not li
Dunno we’ll see

Quigga wrote:Bro next time take me to dinner first before you treat me like that God damn that was beautiful

Thanks, just went digging through the stack for something appropriate.

Death is a fresh salt breeze,
fluid through the rocks,
ascending the cliff to where you stand
bare feet in the grass.
Such a view.
Breathe.
Will you dance?

Death is a cellar door,
scratched and scuffed,
rusting hinges smoothly swinging.
Steps lead down to musty dark,
a promise, a release.
Behind you, a familiar voice.
You turn.

Death is a high-end Mercedes,
far out of sight down this autobahn
where you recline on the sun-warmed tarmac,
jotting notes, humming to yourself.
Beautiful technology, whisper-silent,
accelerating.

There once was a poster on rum soaked fist,
His eyes were all piggy but his Yi was foc-issed,
His Qi was all foggy, but his Shen was all blissed
So he battered his keyboard until he was pissed.

I thank you!

Not mine, but worthy

https://youtu.be/zgOABuZoe0c

I'll flood the speakers with heat seakers
And keep sneakers cleaner than nunnery pussy evening of Easter
I'll leave my prints on her keister
I suck the clit and release it if it will please her
I'll kneel to her, best believe make a meal of her
Thank you
Told the preacher I love her, he said that God was her lover
I said if he really loves her then he would love that we're lovers
I walk around in a bubble, a fucking scoundrel in trouble
In every town, make a rumble, the venue ground into rubble
Give me a ten, and I'll double, I'll split your face like some aces
I got a fragrance I'm wearing called, "I will shit on you basics"
The money wants me to have it, I have a hunger for data
I'm crunching numbers and crack unbreakable safes while I'm at it
I'm doing more than just rapping you have to grant me that dap
When you around where I'm at just know that it is not where you at
I'm not on your map, I'm a mystery to you captains of industry
If the 'matic is missing me automatic, it's victory
Hey!
I'm the shit
Looking at the money like it's mine to get
I'm the shit bitch
Everybody down, throw the pistol and fist
I'm the shit
We looking at the money like it's ours to get
I'm the shit bitch
Everybody live throw the pistol and fist
We the grimy and gritty, made it the Grammy committees
Got told that we spit it too vicious and would never see victory
And I refuse to play humble as though my dick itty bitty
I got banana dick, your bitch go apeshit if she hit it
Meanwhile, you're too nervous, pervis, that's why you never get service
And me, I caught the preacher's wife workin' 'fore Sunday service
I put my hand up her skirt and then we prayed for a purpose
I baptized her in Jesus name, left her shakin' and squirtin'
Ooh, I shocked the Sunday school and did that shit there on purpose
See, I'm a pervert with purpose that make you question your purpose
Run the Jewels'll arrive at arenas, bunch of blood thirsty hyenas
To get revenge on the kingdoms that killed the dreams of the dreamers
Drank alcohol for the demons, sip lean with all of the schemers
You see he groove with the people, move with the mind of a genius
You see, he workin' the angles so he ain't never an angel
They wanna get you to hang him, well give them fuckers a finger
I'm the shit
Looking at the money like it's mine to get
I'm the shit bitch
Everybody down, throw the pistol and fist
I'm the shit
We looking at the money like it's ours to get
I'm the shit bitch
Everybody live throw the pistol and fist
Welcome to fuckyoupalooze, we bruisin' any who movin'
Who wanna stan' for these douches, you raise a hand and you lose it
I hold the door for old ladies, run into fires and save babies
I went to school in the eighties, taking the train with the crazies
New York, New York is the mothership where I used to smoke dust and shit
Now, I'm crop dustin' fuckers, suck it up and you'll love the shit
No more games, I'm above the shit, butter me up for nothing
I'm taking all of your ducats 'cause I can call when you're bluffing
Who thought the son of Denise would be the leader of people?
When he was your house at Morehouse, slangin' pounds of the reefer
Sat with potential presidents and said the p should be legal as reparations
For what this nation has done to my people
I'm a pervert, a poet, I ain't a saint, and I know it
Been a crook and cooked the books but never shorted no whores
Promoters comp me the Moet, I'm the man and I know it
I'm the shit, bitch, tell me, how could I not show it?
I'm the shit
Looking at the money like it's mine to get
I'm the shit bitch
Everybody down, throw the pistol and fist
I'm the shit
We looking at the money like it's ours to get
I'm the shit bitch
Everybody live throw the pistol and fist
I'm the shit

Fog of war helps to hide the terrors
But can give one false sense of security in apathy

I used to write about sex and women a lot.

Pound Puppy

On her second day
at a three day kill shelter
she found me
with her bright eyes full of dark rain
and a hyperactive tail that drew my eye

I was looking for a cat
because puppies are dumb
chew everything
and piss all over the carpet

But she was cute enough to tame
and learned to come without a leash
we laid together afternoons
and dug up the neighbor's garden

On the way out one morning
I forgot to latch the door
and she ran

To the old man down the street
singing a recycled, borrowed lullaby
through tired teeth

So now I keep a plate of kibble
on the doorstep

Whistle strange melodies for her
and double-check my locks

Hoping she'll run back for a walk around the block

Or five

My private booklet from grammar school, when I (short time), played poet, is in vain.
but:
Bo kogóż rżnąć
gdy
same puszki wrogiem
i stal co cal
i gniew co zlew
choć
żygać już nie wolno...

lose translation:

Who has to be fuck,
when
only cans are enemy
and steel what a inch
and anger what a sink
although, throwin` out already forbidden...
...

Polish translation from one of "Alice in w. " poem ,
enjoy:

Było smaszno
i jaszmije smukwijne wężały
Peliczaple stały smutcholijne
a zbłąkinie
rykoświstąkały.

ach Jabbersmoka strzeż się strzeż
szponów jak kły i tnących szczęk
drżyj
gdy nadpełga banderzwierz
lub dżubdżub ptakojęk

Even without recourse to Deepl & co., I guess Jabbersmoka is something of a giveaway...