The Man of Tin

Like ‘Boom Boom’ Boris Becker, my wreckage comes from this racket; serve me verbiage to swing at and sure enough I will smack it, put your problems on my back and I’ll shoulder them like a jacket, in this tournament of champs, I’m the only stamp on the bracket.

Backing up no longer, I’m feeling stronger than any superpower, Bauer to this pace, I’m just racing the time until my final hour is upon me and I am no longer clocking in, but until then I’ll spend my life powering on my will to win.

The Man of Tin, sitting in bargain bins spitting out these flows, just rowing out prolific exhibits of picket signage prose, an overdose of omens and moments of motion comatose, verbose engrossing boasting of coast to coast roasting diagnosed.

Still I suppose that nobody knows the way I flow in codes, both friend and foe just can’t seem to grasp my passion overload, respect I’m owed, but I’m just not getting it, so I go and goad and hope for gold while moseying bold on down my yellow road.

I’m ‘a la mode’ exploding through fashionable ways of writing rhymes and lining speak like beats in a bind, just call me sign of times, my mind is finding ways to display an amazing maze design, while pining for enshrinement assignments that tighten up my spine.

My shine is blinding doubters, about to unleash a cosmic bomb, atomically bionic and sonically calming phonic palm in blister histrionics, just call me Mr. Miyagi, Si, I’m kicking swift ironic with comical Daniel-sunning speed.

No need to try and pry into what I am laying down for you, just proving I can stand up to anyone in this slang enthuse, my muse is brain and she’s an insanely deranged exclaim excuse for cruising down this road of prose overload mode and venom views.

Written by Tyler Wagner

Sunny Side Up

I’ve really never felt like this, I’ve never had this strength of wrist, or even had a granted wish so whimsical and golden, fish. I’m out the tank and swimming free, don’t try to paddle after me, I’m oh so gone, beyond the sea, and seeing spacey, heavenly.

My tether ball was tethered, worn, from all the verbal punching, scorn, no more, that’s it, my soul has sworn, to ward off hoards of ripping, torn. I’m born again, alive and well, my mutant finally left its shell, and now my ninja splinters fast, this master’s printing, sprinting past.

Blasting off to outer space, with willful grace, without a trace, I doubt you’ll ever see my face raise up again, it’s been erased. So brace yourselves and pace your search, I’ll send prayers from Picante church, to warm you up and reimburse the strength in you that’s been besmirched.

Allured by life’s intoxication, boxing oxygen elation, elevation has been heightened, past the furthest star that brightens up this span of planet mass, way past the future’s looking glass; I’m past the point of no return, my fury’s never burning urn.

That means my soul is never dying, while you subtract, I’m multiplying, just eye the Champ, my rant’s Orion, my Belt of stealth I call Obrien. My Conan sword I’m carrying, while jonesing for a marian, to run through my agrarian, and find my Unitarian.

If you got that, then cheers to you, my wit can’t fit in any shoe, my brew of choice is liquid voice and it goes down like sunset views. My boulevard is hard to find, I sign my rhymes as Wonder Nine; my world is curled up, enshrined, inside this phlegm of Clementine.

My darling, that just means I’m lost, but not forgot, just hit exhaust, I paid the cost to be the boss and now our paths can never cross. I’ll be your friend, just call me Ross, and in the end, I’ll be the floss, that’s there to spread the thread across this word of mouth, called tonsil toss.

Still at a loss, I’m out of time, so read this twice and redesign, what you once thought was just a rhyme; my spine is sharp like Porcupines. I got your back if you got mine, I’m out of sight and out my mind, I moved the moon and found my shine, my sunny side’s on upward climb.

Written by Tyler Wagner

Uno

I need you like the air I breathe, I need your trust in me, believe, I need your arms to charm my sleeves; I need your cape of Super, Reeves. I need you, please, so don’t let go, I need your light, my twinkle toes, I need your lift when I get low, I need you as my one, Uno.

I know now what it is to dance out in the raindrops of romance, and never need a second chance to fall in love from the first glance. My stance on you won’t ever sway, you were the gift for which I prayed, I’ll live for you through dying days and praise the ways which you amaze.

I’ll Frito lay chips off your shoulder, warm you when the world gets colder, boulder through the rocky roads that race you to the age of older. Smolder ice and dice apart the arctic grim that dims your spark, embark a vessel through your heart and never once again depart.

The part of me that needs you most grows from my head down to my toes and loves no feeling quite as close as when your breath rests on my nose. I know I’ve said it once before, or even twice, who’s keeping score, but let me tell you now once more, your blissful core I most adore.

I swore I’d never find such grace, to occupy my mind and space, but face it; frowns have been replaced by drowning in exquisite taste. Put in my place, I’m standing still, just call me Hank, King of the Hill, I found my Fox, she fits the bill, my emptiness she did fulfill.

No need for pills, my sleep is sound; I’m flying high, feet on the ground, so full of love, stuffed pound for pound because my Queen of Hearts was found. Her royal crown may not be seen by others but to me it beams with diamond shine and golden gleams so great it wakes up any dream.

A steady stream of tears once flowed, down past my lips and through my throat and carried anger in a boat the size of which I can’t denote. But anger finally turned to glee, the day she came and rescued me from burning fires and tired pleas with existential entity.

Believe me, it is you I need, I hunger for the food you feed, I thunder for the lightning speed of life you spark into my creed. I need you more than splints need sprains, I need you more than tracks need trains, I need your picture for my frame; I need you more than ever, Brain.

Written by Tyler Wagner

Sky Fighter

In every city, every state, in every country you'll find hate, in every playground, every park, you'll see someone who leaves a mark of ignorance instead of bliss, of elegance that's gone remiss, of negligence to people's hearts, of people bruising with their bark.

They deepen wounds instead of heal, they stand for hate instead of kneel; they pile on instead of peel away the layers of what’s real. They steal away your sense of self, they rob your rich and inner wealth; they sneak up on you with the stealth that leaves you with a weight of welts.

I know this world can get you down and day to day you go 12 rounds and give it all, your pound for pound, and still wind up knocked on the ground. Found TKO’d and told to quit, just give it up, you’re not legit, got no saliva, you can’t spit, just toilet plunge away like shit.

You fit the image, stay in place, don’t break the mold, don’t own your space, don’t stand up tall, don’t speak up loud, don’t take it all, don’t disembowel yourself to become something grand, instead you stay in Munchkin land and watch the so-called “wizards” speak of lollipops and candy sweet.

They feed you just enough to keep your hunger satisfied with meek and week to week you become weak with all the strength life can deplete. But how bout this, just break away, rewrite your story here today, relay to all the nay’s that say you’re not enough, I’m walking-jay.

Just cross onto the other side, don’t look ahead or side to side, just free yourself and mind your mind and let your heart release the bind that’s blinded you and made your vision blurry with that indecision, shortcut through the long division; feel that healing make incisions.

Don’t pigeon foot, stomp on this piece, best live your life before decease, just strip the strife and light up trees and blow away your enemies. I’m freeing clear up into space, my spaceship’s racing at a pace that you won’t catch, don’t even try, my flights about to fight the sky.


Written by Tyler Wagner

Tyler's Take

Quite often, people who desperately need a vacation tend to take the most power trips.

Written by Tyler Wagner

Come Back To Me

The first time that I felt your clutch, it warmed my sullen soul so much and kept me standing, like a crutch, with feelings like I’d never touched. Much stronger than the hardest crush, you painted petals with your brush and rose my heavy heart to such a height it could fight out its hutch.

Your blush, a flush of fairy tale, my one success in life of fail; you ailed me when my strength was weak and seeped to beat my losing streak. You tweaked my inner demons out and sprouted proudest in my shout, forgot what pain was all about, as you destroyed my boyish doubt.

It started out just you and I, we cooled the world and ruled the sky, our eyes were drawn and on the prize to schmooze the truth and shoo the lies. Surprised at all the will you gave, my power raised and took to raves of sunny oceanic waves that lost my stress and saved my way.

Day by day and night by night, your healing touch stayed by my side and prided me with such a stride of happiness, bliss bona fide. My ride through life, a rocket blast, you set aflame my tainted past and cast me into galaxies of superstars and starry seas.

Retrieved the hunger in my heart, you held the match that lit my spark, embarked together through this life, our goal to cure the strain and strife. Just like a Wife, you married me, I held you oh so merrily, and barely could stand time away, prayed stay with me and never stray.

One day you let another in, we wrestled but you got the pin, so with that I took to anew and oh my how the joy did brew. I kept you with me, in my sight, you helped me with my sheepish fright, so shy, yet still so bold inside, and every day the darkness dried.

My Bride, I thought I’d see her be, you’d always promised utter glee, but somehow you did not prepare for such miss-care and misery. She broke my faith and took my trust, erased beliefs in you, in us, and now I’m left with nothing, bare, we should have never worked in pairs.

So now I’m staring at this wall of all for one, and one for all, and slipping, tipping from the fall and you’re not here to hear me call. I’m sprawled out on the pavement, please, come back to me and help me see that you’re still real, I’m still enough, please let me feel you once more, Love.

Written by Tyler Wagner

Tyler's Advice

Free the fear of tales that tattle, start to heal those scars from battle, know we’ll see it through the sea of tears we’ve cried and tried to paddle.

Saddle up and buck your fright, forget your wrongs and write your rights, delight in glows of growth so bright and let your heightened wings take flight.


Written by Tyler Wagner

Find Your Piece of Peace of Mind

Every day the same routine, I clean my slate with kerosene; I end the night all by myself and wake up still instilled in stealth. Invisible, man I don’t know, so miserable, won’t let it show, divisible by nothing, squat, if you don’t fit, then get forgot.

My love for love is fire hot, I’m glove to glove with people taught to tater tot, potato sack, away their passion, mash it back. My back is broke from all this weight, I’ve taken on in hope of fate, my date with destiny won’t show, so dead inside, I’m called “The Crow.”

I try to grow into the man that writes just like a King, The Stand, and stand up to those fears of fail, that lure me in and don’t let bail. Imprisoned by a prism dimmed by darkness art and crimson limbs, my sleep creeps with the reaper, grim, my shot at love’s above the rim.

I trim the fat, but find the beef, it’s like my beings been bequeathed, it’s like I’m seeing entropy in every door I’m entering. I’m centered but my mind still sways and doe-see-does with rainy days and row’s me deep into abyss, I was the shit, but now I’m piss.

I’m missing, but there’s still no search, my absence grows long like the Lurch, my perch atop the top has dropped and no one’s here to hear me flop. I’m rocking back and forth in chairs, electrical, and full of flare, this jolt will take me to the air, my final frequent flier fare.

Just bear in mind, my time is bare, my overcoat’s my underwear; my ranger’s roving through the dirt at 88 and braced to hurt. The curtained sky’s my only friend, an endless blend of light it lends, some sparks of hope I’ll hope to find, out in my search for peace of mind.

Written by Tyler Wagner

Tyler's Wisdom

You’ll always get knocked off of your high horse if all you are is a one trick pony.

Written by Tyler Wagner