A Tale of Two Swiftly

With written hands and clenching fists, we’re going HAM up in this bitch; you’ll feel this flow just like an itch and spread it like a gossip snitch. Our class in session; best not ditch, we’re teaching Wesson lesson spit and shooting bullets from our lips, we’ll get you high without the trip.

Our grip onto this game is tight, we’re sipping on that special Sprite, while writing lines of lemon-lime and double timing rhyme in spite of all the haters out their barking, Little Sunshine’s, Alan Arkin’s, sparking nothing, daylight’s darken, wishing Kent would get to Clark in.

They’ll never reach that Superhero, Level Agent Double Zero, peering for a cape to save them, but their fate will not awaken. They can never feel that truth, they’ll never master flaring tooth, they’ll never snare this beating drum; they’ll never spread that red like rum.

Our time up top has just begun, we’re slow to fade but made to run, we’re here to save, but spending tons of time on fighting crime with lungs. No guns, we carry lead instead, our pencil’s wrestle with the dread, then drop it dead and call it Fred, then bed it goodnight, sleepy head.

So fed up with the fake and phony, such big talk on little ponies, blasting speak like they were Sony, homey clowning whack-a-roni. Tony Tiger, they ain’t great, we’ll frost their flakes with milky quakes of serial cerebral crates and grate their fate to never wake.

Ink stain aches we’re dropping here, while channeling our chandelier and peering down on all that’s under, this typed tornado blade of thunder. Wonder Man and Manic P., that stands for Panic, Xanax Freak, we’re dripping spit without a leak, bomb dominance is what we seek.

The weakest link, you’ll never find, in our deranged exchange of minds, our souls are cold, but hold a bind that will not break or silence, mime. We’re dropping dimes yet making cents, our sense is evil evident, our rent in Heaven, paid in full, our time in Hell is just to cool.

We school the Devil, teach him class, ice his veins from flabbergast, snatch the fire from his flask and drink it quick like we’re the Flash. Smash his cave to smithereens and smoke him like his skin was green and light him up with holy beams of cosmic caustic Listerine.

This Team of Two is all we need, blood in blood out is how we bleed, no need to ask, Assassin’s Creed, come follow us because we lead. Now freed from fear, we’re front and center, serving splendor like some vendors, venting dents of dental wreck, without a speck of disrespect.


Written by Tyler Wagner

Present

The present is indeed that...a present. Unwrap each day with the knowledge that it’s a gift and be thankful for it.

Written by Tyler Wagner

Lady Patiently

When I first saw her beauty glow, I thought at once, “Oh here we go, a pro in solo runway shows,” my interest grew, Pinocchio. My nose in fact did not just grow, attraction did, so now you know, the start of how this story goes, the story of The Rarest Rose.

I’d throw myself into a train, for just one chance to ask her name, and maybe light a fire flame, inside the thoughts that cropped her brain. Insane, maybe, but how I felt, could not be seen, could not be smelt, could not be heard, could not be touched, could not be matched, could not be rushed.

As much as I would love to jump into her space and Jersey pump, my fists, to maybe catch her eye, the truth is I just walked on by. I tried to muster, “Hello, Hi, Hey, what’s your name? My name is Ty. I really like your style, fly, girl you could make the sunshine sigh.”

But there I stood like lumber, wood, as stiff as any drink could ever think of making my feet freeze, my tongue was stung from silent bees. Just like the breeze, she blew on by, I wonder if she wondered why I didn’t even try to speak, my urge was strong; my speech was weak.

And just like that, she walked away, for good, I hoped not, so I prayed, to see the day when she’d return, and to the past, at last I’d burn. Concerned I stayed for days and days, my spark was dark, no sunlit rays, my face was blank, expressionless, and what's to thank, my sullenness.

A lioness, she proved to be, a leader of my mind and dreams, it seemed as though I knew her well, for no amount I’d ever sell, the thoughts which occupied my brain, her face became the thing that slain the pain away from past mishaps, the sleeping beauty of my naps.

Perhaps I drifted off too deep, within my mind, so merry steep, for when she did return my way, I couldn’t summon strength to say, “So, how’s your day? I like your dress; you wear it with such great success. Do you like art? Well so do I, I must admit you drew my eye.”

Aligned, the stars, they must have been, for me this day because just when she turned to slowly walk on by, my longing glance danced in her eye. Surprised and altogether giddy, I finally locked eyes with the cities prettiest discovery, no other place, I’d rather be.

Her lips dipped low and I could tell, she was about to speak in spells, I was so very far from Hell, although I stood, I should have fell. “Hello,” she said, “I’m new in town, so maybe we could go around and hang out in some different parts, here’s my number, I have to dart.”

Apart from being Heaven sent, she spoke so well and eloquent, I spent the next chunk of my day, in constant bliss and disarray. I whisked away from place to place, I saw the sign, thanks Ace of Base, she opened up my eyes to see, the richest gifts of all are free.

That leads us to the present day, I’m still in awe, in every way, and still get swept up in her sway, each time her presence resonates. I hope that fate will in time find, my address and a ladder, climbed, up to my window, where she’ll see, that I am waiting, patiently.

Written by Tyler Wagner