#VERSE. MEET ME IN THE WOODS TONIGHT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

caltropspress · 3 months ago

Text

ShrapKnel in the Bardo

Two Nights on Tour with Curly Castro and PremRock

19 June 2024 | Brooklyn, NY | Public Records

20 June 2024 | Rutherford, NJ | Soldato Books

How many intelligent people in the house tonight?

—KRS-One for Boogie Down Productions, “Poetry,” Live Hardcore Worldwide (1991)

When I say it’s about wanting to live, I just say that because that’s how I feel. When you get hit with death, sometimes as horrible as it is, one of the things that can come out of it is a reaffirmation of how much you don’t want to go…

—El-P, Cancer 4 Cure press junket (2012)

This is beyond my wildest dreams. Every fucking minute of this hip-hop shit. I’m here to live it, and I’m here to love it.

—Curly Castro, prior to performing “Dreadlocs Falling”

I am not a spiritual person. But when something’s got cha opin, it’s a must to be receptive to the signal and the signs. Ignoring the counsel of billy woods, I was at soundcheck. Public Records was sparsely populated when I arrived around five o’clock, earlier than the artists even, the soundman assuming I was the talent. As Prodigy says on “Live Nigga Rap,” “NYC, U-N-I-verse, seriously.” Because, seriously, a universality and a convergence would be taking place in New York City this evening. The first of the night’s performers to walk through the door was Controller 7, flanked by Emynd and Scott Matelic.

CONTROLLER 7: The last time the three of us were together was Scribble Jam in 2000. I think we fell right back into the old flow. I was staying at Scott’s and he lives in Brooklyn, so it made things a lot easier. He knew where things were and I didn’t have to worry about anything. He and I hung out at Dove’s studio the night before with Sharif and Dose. That kinda helped break the ice a bit too, since I knew Sharif was going to be a guest in the ShrapKnel set. Emil and Scott ended up walking with me to the venue and it probably did set me at ease. When we were at the venue, I just kept meeting person after person, faces I already knew from the internet, and I really never had a chance to even get too nervous about anything. Everyone was so cool that I felt really welcomed. I hadn’t done a show in about 15 years and, in all honesty, I’ve never really done a show. It’s just been like 2-3 beat sets over a 26-year period.

We immediately started conversing about production credits from 25 years ago. There I was, a disembodied voice from the telephone made manifest, warping time, fixated on facts and fictions from another lifetime. But they indulged me, kindly.

1.1

Watch me breathe…feel me breathe, Mike Ladd spoketh on “Blade Runner” in 1997. I want to believe in the Latin sense of spiritus—that windnbreeze, that inspiration, that black star respiration, the collective breath that circulates communally, historically. And then there’s the spirit-rapping. Not breath control, per se, but when mediums had their way and say in society, they listened for the knock, knock [GZA adjacent] of paranormal communications. U.N.K.L.E. and Kool G Rap called it the “drums of death.” In the 16th century, Paracelsus cited the [something like a…] phenomenon as pulsatio mortuorum, or “death omen,” homie.

1.11

On Live Hardcore Worldwide, Boogie Down Productions’ live album from 1991, KRS-One’s performance of “Breath Control” exhibits mostly that, though I must confess he sounds, ironically, a bit exasperated as he repeats, Breath control, breath control, breath control… This, in no way, sacrifices his reigning supreme. To err is human. (And the adverbial doubt inherent to “Over Nearly Everyone” tells me he recognizes this as well.) ShrapKnel, on the other hand—emcees Curly Castro and PremRock—make no such sacrifices. They amethyst rock with ānāpānasati, zen masters of the ceremony. Amethyst rockstars heed the cautions set forth by the Blastmaster on “Breath Control,” though. They know what the weaker performers among us rely on: “They want dancers, they want lighting, / They want effects to make ’em look exciting, / But it’s frightening, ’cause without that, / The whole crew is wick-wick-wick-wack.”

1.12

I introduced myself to Controller 7. We’d been acquainted for several years, but had never met in person. I [un]officially began gathering notes for a book on the Anticon collective, of which Controller 7 was an early member, in March 2017. Seven years later, that book is nearing completion. Tommy (Controller 7) was one of the first interviews I conducted for the book—we had that phone call in March of 2019. Scott Matelic and Emynd, affiliates to Anticon, were also some of my earliest interviews. I spoke with them on the phone in January and February of 2019, respectively. Caltrops Press was born in July 2020, concurrent with the underground rap renaissance that we’re now experiencing. One of the central themes of the Anticon book (title TBA soon) examines the underground scene(s) as a sprawling network. So when Tommy confided in me early last year that he had been commissioned to produce the new ShrapKnel record, I began to feel the thrum of an everything that rises must converge momentum. I’d considered alternate realities in the seven years spent working on the book—those preexisting, premillennial networks couldn’t have completely collapsed—and now time and space seemed to begin to bend and bow in strange and suggestive ways.

1.2 On June 1, 2023, I attended the Maps record release show at Baby’s All Right. ShrapKnel opened for woods and Kenny Segal. They performed “Illusions of P,” a song they had started to debut on tour stops around the country. I sent a woefully insufficient iPhone 6 video of the performance to Tommy.

1.3

In August of 2023, Tommy messaged me: “I can’t tell you what, but there is a song that features Aesop and he says ‘caltrops’ on it.” Two months later, that song would turn out to be A7PHA’s “Many Headed,” a hell-bent hydra head nadda’s journey featuring the likes of Self Jupiter and Buck 65. And there was Aesop Rock speaking of “hopscotchin’ caltrops, / Cloud of black smoke, no black box.” On April 19, 2024, the “Many Headed (Controller 7 Remix)” was loosed upon the world. Tommy recruited Curly Castro and PremRock to contribute to the ever-expanding posse cut, a guest appearance in anticipation of Nobody Planning To Leave. Therein, Prem promises a “double-edged sword on the neck of an edgelord,” and Castro paints a militant picture: “Once it took a nation, / Now it takes a phalanx.”

CONTROLLER 7: I asked them to do a trade-off like on “Babylon by Bus.” The remix feels a bit like my Deep Puddle Dynamics remix [“Rain Men”], 25 years later. Posse cut, changes in the music, unexpected. It feels kinda full circle. Dose is at the end of both. The Deep Puddle remix was kinda the “Well, let’s see what I can do,” and my skills and equipment were so basic at the time. This is now the 25 years later “Let me show you what I can do.” But somehow they actually come very much from the same spirit.

Spirit. Convergence.

By 5:30, PremRock arrived in his unassuming human form—a man who has measured out his life in cocktail spoons, to paraphrase Prufrock; Castro appeared not long after that in camo pants, prepped with silent weapons for the loud wars to come. Prem, I noticed, had a mic in his pocket.

PREMROCK: I bring my own mic everywhere! A gift from Willie Green some years ago. I believe it was a beta test and now many venues use it. It’s more suited for live performances and the dynamics don’t change with cupping. Also, I’m a bit of a germaphobe, so there’s that too.

For soundcheck, they got right into “Metallo.” Soundman checked the levels in the center of the room while Prem mentioned bots trying to sell tickets to the show online—“a breakthrough,” he called it. Where Prem is gregarious during the pregame, Castro is focused with the concentration of Simeon Stylites atop the pillar (Simeon says, Shut the fuck up!)—he makes medieval monasteries of any modern venue. When they ran through “Deep Space 9 Millie Pulled a Pistol,” the venue experimented with casting a red light over them—the color of De La’s predator Santa suit and the guns pointed at El-P. Ideas began to click for me while listening to the guys test the levels on “LIVE Element” acapella. When Castro raps, “Prem and I, two-headed Cerberus Killa Show,” he’s not kidding. In that moment, even in an empty space with no audience to witness it, they were the “iLLest Duo, Known throughout the Known Earth.” Prem claims to be a “one-man tour machine” on “Dadaism 3,” but he does better with a two-man (like Duncan and Parker operating under the Coach Pop playbook).

PremRock and Castro don’t rehearse in any traditional way. Their method of preparation relies on trust in one another’s craft, and they covet a spirit of on-the-go recalibration.

CURLY CASTRO: Considering how far away we live from each other (Philly & NY), our rehearsals are slightly unorthodox in its practice. We select a set list with extreme detail, and then put in the hours on our own to master our parts. Usually, at the start of each respective tour, we are doing a fistful of songs for the first time. Then as we do the songs multiple times, we see what works, and by the end of a run, we have figured out the Live incantations of said songs. For the most part, once we settle into a set before a run, we have certain interchangeable Blades, but the set remains the same for most of any run we complete. Once upon any stage we can lengthen or shorten, or adapt our alchemy, for any Live setting in any Location.

I think about the aptness of their group name: ShrapKnel—with that capital-K stolen from Cube’s amerikkka. Lethal fragments and filings. The chorus on “Dadaism 3” tells the story: “Metal from the blast zone flying Each and Every Way.” Later, on “Steel Pan Labyrinth,” Castro describes using “the blades to write bars.” ShrapKnel with a K that cuts. A grapheme sans curves, a razor-sharp letter. “Sharp” and “Shrap” kindred as anagrammatic matters go. “Shrap is here to sharp the Blade,” Castro spits on “Uru Metal,” “De La Soul skits, decode and you’ll find the answer.” By the conclusion of soundcheck, the other performers and notable attendees—Child Actor, August Fanon, phiik and Lungs, even E. from The Next Movement podcast who picked up the ubiquitous Fatboi Sharif as she drove through Jersey—had filled the floor.

AUGUST FANON: I saw Lungs walking up to the venue right as me and my girlfriend Khadija were arriving, so we walked in together. phiik was already in the venue and, once together, they quickly jumped into their soundcheck. When I heard phiik spit that shit live sounding crispy like the record, I went crazy inside. I was like, Hell-fuckin’-yeah! Let’s go!

I am Lungs…this is phiik, and it’s good as fuck to see so many familiar faces…

If phiik and Lungs—jointly recognized as Another Planet—have received much buzz of late, that buzz reached Havana Syndrome levels while opening for ShrapKnel on tour. Straight C.I.A. shenanigans that leave your neural-well unsteadied. They talk in maths and buzz like a fridge, like a detuned radio. They are Red and Meth for the anthropocene—a blackout, one-two, one-two punch who smoke bud and sniff a bee’s ass to get a buzz.

phiik: Prem & Castro really showed us the ropes & were such a joy to travel with. This was the first tour for both of us, so it was really helpful to get so comfortable so quickly. Something that Castro put us on to was drinking tea constantly. Pretty much every show we did he would be sipping on some beforehand. I never realized how your voice can go at any point.

CURLY CASTRO: Prem and I caught wind of [phiik and Lungs] a few years back. Their respective style(s) appeared unparalleled. They were a galvanizing duo, who’s YouTube clip on “Off Top” gets the internet’s panties inna bunch and generates mega-bandwidth, as folks argue over their particular brand of word sorcery. The only surprise (even though I knew them capable, but it’s another thing to see it) was that their whirlwind quicksilver tongues were identical to what was put down on tape. An impressive feat all in itself, but a reassurance of the Blade protocol needed to run with us Wolves.

PREMROCK: That was Nik Oliver, our booking agent, who suggested the pairing [with phiik and Lungs]. I was already a fan, and Castro was very tapped in too. I saw the vision pretty quickly. They are a rising duo and their reputation as people was strong. Always important to have folks vouch for you. It was a home run, in my opinion. They are special artists making special music. For their first tour, they approached it like seasoned vets. The road is a grind and your comfort zones and routines are shattered. They adapted quickly, and I was impressed by their nightly performances. Shout-out GAM, too. He’s a GRIP mainstay and a real stabilizer on the road. We had fun and got the job done. The best result.

phiik and Lungs fed off and ate up the hometown crowd throughout their unswerving 40-minute set at Pub Rex. They started with “Captain Picard” from Another Planet 4 (and they’d be planet-hopping haphazardly with quick shouts of “AP2!” and “AP3!” and such for their setlist), and they proceeded to “burn the house down like David Koresh,” as Lungs says, or like David Byrne in ’84 blackface. It’s good to be home, phiik said after the first number, sounding like Dorothy windswept and word-vexed. Drink of water demands were made prior to “SCOOBY” (off Planet X), but not in a diva way, just to stave off dehydration from the tireless spittin’ over the haunted industrial plant of a noface beat. Lungs taunted MCs who “can’t rap better than [him]” on “Kurt McBurt,” and by the middle of “She Could” I began to notice the full and crushing support that TASE GRIP offers up to each other. The whole cru pushed up against the stage, slapping and banging it when emotion flowed and numbers thronged, finishing bars for phiik and Lungs, sometimes screaming the whole damn thing. Wavy Bagels, AKAI SOLO, and S!LENCE at the center of the Dark & Stormy scene. When phiik rapped, “Never took a village to be the villain, / But we still in the building,” and a chorus of voices join him in dragging the end-rhyme out (...buildinnnnnn’), we felt the thrum. It takes a phalanx.

phiik stutter steps when it’s his turn on the mic, rapping to the ground. Lungs leans toward the edge of the stage—skinny elbows out, eyes bulging—and raps to the sky. Hell and heaven unified—purgatory raps for a cleansing of your soul. A barrage, as many have remarked. It’s like putting your face to the fan, your visage to the vents. “Make some noise for Lungs!” phiik shouts, hyping up his homie. “It’s not easy going from one track to another. The fuck is he doing? He’s a nut. He’s a crazy fuck.” There’s a symbiosis of support between phiik and Lungs, rooted in friendship.

phiik: Our work ethic together has definitely only developed & gotten better over the years, but our foundation of knowing each other so well helps without a doubt. Lungs & I have known each other pretty much our whole lives, so it was almost seamless in a way when we started to work on music together.

My mind goes to Live Hardcore Worldwide again—“The Eye Opener”—where it’s said: “Make some noise! This is all live, as you can plainly hear and see. There’s no lipsync business going on here!” Listening to them perform “Secret Power,” the titular secret power, I contend, is a guttersnipe glossolalia. Some trip-wire of tryptamines, divine DMT entities exiting their maws, untranslatable.

The affair became even more familial as phiik and Lungs invited GAM to kick a verse (“He DJs, drives us around, fucking raps…”). AKAI was brought onstage for a song triad. He rocked a keffiyeh in a classic P.L.O. style and demonstrated the muscular rapping we’ve come to expect when he’s in front of an audience, each word a heavy load to lift and spirit into your soul, slackening the suspensory ligament of your Third Eye lens. Confident, AKAI only has to lead the crowd with a “TASE” for them to follow back with “GRIP.” The chant doesn’t require any instructions of When I say… That’s the command he has.

phiik: Heads are really a unit & move as such. And on top of that, everybody fully understands what’s going on & how much the support means. After seeing random heads for the majority of the tour, it was so nice to see the team when we came back home.

Another Planet closed their set with “Don Quixote,” but these MCs are less tilting at windmills than slicing at windpipes. “This is not mom’s spaghetti,” phiik raps, apropos. They’d recently been subject to some Eminem-like internet parasocial Stanic panic when P.O.W. Recordings put out a message saying “Funcrusher 2024” with a clip of Lungs’ “Off Top” Freestyle from 2022. Lungs, a man of bare minimum words on the interwebs, said: “Mfs really crashing out over the clip for the 4th time lol. All haters please keep hating we don’t give a fuck and the shit makes my PayPal go crazy every time.”

phiik: Honestly, we reaaaally don’t pay any mind to it as far as what the end result is. After a certain point, the discourse almost just becomes word vomit. Tons of people saying the same thing over & over. But at the same time, any press is good press. So I definitely didn’t mind it at all, and if anything it only creates a brand new lane of people who maybe have never heard of us, and those people develop into lifelong fans. Heads who dislike it will hate on it for a week & then move on. But, yeah, it’s absolutely only used as fuel & motivation.

On “Don Quixote,” Lungs raps about how “hip-hop fans from around the world [are] stalking on [his] page,” which seems hard to dispute. He pushes further: “Rappers behind on bills talking shit online in the same stinky Jay’s”—a prognosticator shine to his studio mic. The song ends with a GRIP-led crowd chorus of “HOLD ON A MINUTE, HOLD ON A MINUTE, HOLD ON A MINUTE!” but I couldn’t hold on to a single second in the set. It happened, and I was the better for it. “Read the book, it said Gimme mine,” phiik rapped. I have read the book, and Cervantes writes—and I was thinking to myself—“...with what minuteness they describe everything!”

CHOP THE HEAD: I’ve never seen Lungs and phiik get that kind of reception—to have a few hundred people screaming the lyrics of those verses is an accomplishment in itself. I laugh every time I watch them live, because it just doesn’t make sense on a virtuosic level. Later that night, my man Q No Rap Name and I hung out with Lungs at his crib and, after meeting him, his music made even more sense to me. From the time we left the venue to the time we left his crib, he didn’t stop talking. He told fifty of the most bugged-out stories I’ve heard, and they all dovetailed off one another. Lungs and phiik are not affecting any part of their output; those dudes are really rapping about how they live and think.

3.1

August Fanon and Child Actor stood side-by-side on the stage, laptop leaning as they went “back and forth and tr[ied] to surprise each other by playing some very rare unreleased things,” according to Child Actor.

CHILD ACTOR: It was Prem that originally pitched the idea of August Fanon and me doing a set together. I had assumed it was because he had heard about us sharing a bill last year (his and my first beat set of any kind), but according to him it was completely unrelated. August and I routinely bounce beats off each other and have been working on a project together, so it couldn’t have been a more serendipitous pairing. I had loosely prepared a longer set, but several days before the event I was notified that he and I were sharing a half hour. I thought it’d be fun if instead of going one after the other, we went back and forth in 2- or 3-minute chunks. That ended up feeling perfect. I didn’t let him send me anything beforehand because I knew it’d be fun to hear everything for the first time onstage. He certainly did not disappoint. I made sure to play only unreleased beats and songs-in-progress. One of them was a song that was mixed at the Greenhouse the day before. It may have been one of the nights with the highest percentage of people in the building that were friends/collaborators of mine. I definitely felt a great deal of support and appreciation—a very fun and fulfilling first NYC beat set for sure!

CHOP THE HEAD: August Fanon and Child Actor’s friendly beat battle blew my mind several times over. They are both on the razor’s edge of traditionalism and pure experimentation.

While I listened to a Fanon remix of Biggie’s “Suicidal Thoughts,” Mo Niklz and I stood in the audience chopping it up. I looked around and saw so many familiar faces in the space. Mo noticed it, too.

MO NIKLZ: The room was packed and about 50% of those attending were artists, which is incredibly uncommon.

I asked Mo a couple questions, and in no time at all I was subject to what Castro calls “The Philosophy of Mo.” He talked about being roommates with Ceschi, meeting woods through PremRock and Willie Green, and making frequent trips down to NYC from Connecticut. “I wanted to let people know I was around,” he said. About once a month, woods would offer his couch to crash. They built a friendship and artistic relationship from there, with Mo functioning as woods’ DJ. Mo had played a crucial role on the New England leg of the Nobody Planning to Leave tour as well.

MO NIKLZ: The tour actually stayed with me in New Haven on Sunday. They had their day off on Monday, and I booked the show in New Haven that was Tuesday. I bought everyone Sally’s Apizza Monday night and then made everyone an omelet for breakfast on Tuesday. I’ve known Prem and Castro for a while now but just met phiik and Lungs. I always like to think I’m the tour dad, but phiik and Lungs were kidding that I worry these rappers can’t take care of themselves when I’m not around so, sadly, I guess I’m more like a tour mom. The show in Connecticut was great. There were a lot of unfamiliar faces, which was cool. I normally know just about everyone at a CT underground hip-hop show. The tour went to NYC that evening. I just had to bring their merch to the Brooklyn show the following day. I got there for doors and both phiik and Lungs told me they ate well that day. “What will these rappers eat if Mo doesn’t bring them food?” they said to me. Prem helped me bring their merch in but it took him about fifteen minutes to get out the door. He kept running into a bunch of great people congratulating him on the album. We got outside and somebody else congratulated him and left. Prem said, “Did you not know him? That was Swordplay.” I was like, Oh damn, that sucks. I would’ve liked to have said hi. We finally get the merch from the car, and on our way back in, Prem got stopped again by a guy wearing some dope glasses and a Black Moon shirt. Prem said, “Hey, have you two met? Mo this is Doseone,” which was funny because we both turned to each other and said, “Oh man, I was just talking about you.” It was bizarre because Child Actor and I were talking video games a week ago and Doseone had put him on to a game he was enjoying. I said [to Child Actor], “You know he’s like one of the OG indie hip-hop legends I’ve never met.” It was pretty surreal to me. He already knew a lot of my DJ work, my job shipping records for Fake Four, and that I make pickles. Wild because basically nobody in my family has any concept of what I do, but he knew the gravity of it all.

3.11

Mo’s nourishment and maternal nurturing helped contribute to what Prem and Castro would consider their most successful tour yet.

PREMROCK: I think we started seeing the ripple effect of fan support online translate to a tangible crowd in a realer way this run like we haven’t before. The record had only been out 1.5 weeks so to see the interest it generated so quickly was really encouraging. Touring is difficult financially—that’s been discussed at length—but seeing results and trending upwards makes you feel like it’s a viable path to growth, and nothing kills morale more than a couple duds in a row and fortunately we had none.

CURLY CASTRO: This tour evoked a grand feeling of support. Other tours have had bigger rooms, other tours have had longer durations, but this one seemed rooted in classic Hip-Hop community. Some very welcome surprises, as to who showed up, along the way. Finally, this was our first time, in some time, we actually toured the record close to its initial release. And since this was/is our best work, then it can be perceived that this was our best tour. But I find us advancing levels with every MadMax jaunt across this wasteland we call ’Murica.

3.2

The Fanon/Child Actor set was immediately followed by Controller 7’s brief set, a prelude to ShrapKnel taking the stage. The order of performers was the subject of some debate during soundcheck. I sort of felt like I was watching Meth and Ghostface argue on the Bullet Train in Japan in The Show when Ghost took umbrage at Meth speaking too much during radio interviews.

PREMROCK: Castro disagreed with the proposed order at Pub Rex. He thought beats first then phiik & Lungs. Beats/raps/beats/raps with Controller 7 on before us. Makes sense, right? Well, I disagreed. I saw Fanon and Child Actor as an event and not a head-nod lo-fi hangout. phiik and Lungs just before us and Controller 7, in my opinion, dwindled the impact and the inevitable smoke break may have had heads missing their opening set. There’s nothing like immediate decapitation! Crowd is transfixed. There’s the, “Well, where do you go from there?” argument, but I contend… How about two of the greatest producers doing it going cut for cut?! Also, I had exceptions with the late proposal. It would’ve been difficult to audible, and I was exhausted from the road already and high tension at our hometown release show receiving a good dozen texts per hour with dumb questions already, so I may have been terse! But we are brothers and we talk it out and stand our ground and always come to a solution. End of the day, we believe in each other and what we are doing and we will check each other if the math is not mathing. Any collaboration needs to hold space for disagreement. We do it well over here.

Controller 7 was as sheepish-as-ever, letting the crowd know how uncharacteristic it was for him to be standing on a stage playing music. But the crowd was nothing if not supportive, cheering him at every turn.

CONTROLLER 7: When I started the set, I ended up talking as an intro. Then I ended up talking through the set, sort of explaining what I was playing. I didn’t intend to do that, but it just kinda worked out that way. I don’t usually think of “me” as being part of the music. I hate being in photos; I’m not trying to be in the spotlight. I just make stuff for people to listen to. Being in front of a group of people staring at me while music plays is not my ideal format, so I think I ended up talking as a way to bridge all of that.

I looked to my left and saw Dose standing in the center of the room. To know, in an epistemological sense, is a strange feeling when you’ve spent so many hours documenting a person’s life and work in words, and then suddenly there they are in the physical—circulatory system, blood, bile, nerves, skeleton frame standing upright. Like seeing a ghost. Like spacetime sealing shut—closed curves appearing in my pathway. My head is a repository of the knowledge I’ve been remembering, acquiring, and word-rendering over the past seven years, so I thought about a story Tommy told me on the phone back in 2019—how he hauled his 4-track over to Dose and Jel’s Berkeley apartment in early 2000, the dawn of a new millennium, and watched Dose record a track for Left Handed Straw from the page of a randomly selected book. I found a pattern within the chaos of a complex system.

DOSEONE: Seeing Controller 7’s metamorphosis and rebirth into the beast he is today made my year.

Tommy played the instrumental portion of the “Many Headed” remix that’s home to Dose’s closing verse. Every fiber of me thought Dose would cut through the crowd and perform it onstage, but alas… A standout moment was hearing Quelle Chris’s evocative voice over an atmosfearik beat—a yet-to-be released “demo” (it sounded finished to my novice ears) with lyrics every bit as unnerving as the production: “The killer’s in the room, / The call is coming from somebody clearly watching what I’m doin’, / You can sense impending doom.” Another unreleased song featured Nappy Nina and Sam Herring/Hemlock Ernst, and it hit like a feel-good and melodic radio friendly unit shifter.

CONTROLLER 7: I’m not a finger drummer or a live performer; I’m more of an overly anxious obsessive. I tried to find a way to make [my set] something that would be interesting for people and also not super complicated for me. I had to fly out there and I don’t usually perform, so I didn’t know what equipment to bring. I had an SP404, which I’ve never used to make beats, but it came in handy for what I wanted to do. I spent a week or two leading up to the show mapping things out. I knew that our time was short because we had to end at 10:30, so I was just doing a fifteen minute set. I ended up making a handful of new things, shortened a few older things, and made working demos of some unreleased songs I had. I basically made it the way I wanted to hear it and then I just mapped it out over the pads.

“Some of us have children that age!” is what Castro said of Controller 7’s years-long absence from the stage. As he and Prem positioned themselves, arranged mic cords, prepped their mentals, Controller 7 pressed play—like a detonator switch—on the intro to Nobody Planning to Leave (“It worries me…a lot”). Prem invited the crowd in closer: “The moat exists.” He set down the drawbridge and raised the portcullis between performer and assembled people. But, as “Metallo” began, I recognized it takes more than infrastructure to traverse the alligator-infested muddy waters that Prem and Castro put before us.

4.1

The sounds that you’re about to hear shall be devastating to your ear.

—introduction to “Mellow My Man,” The Roots Come Alive (1999)

The hallmark of a ShrapKnel song is the ridiculoid referents. PremRock and Castro present a maximalist vision that is part and parcel to what Secret House Against calls their “b-boy sensibilities.” They’re from an era when, in Castro's words, “white labels [were] like bibles” (“Deep Space 9 Millie Pulled a Pistol”); they're guys who “used to rock all Naughty gear” (“Kaishakunin”). The two deliver a nostalgic notion for anyone that might’ve spent hours flipping through Tommy Boy perforated liner notes in the 90s.

Even an interlude (such as “Bogdan Interlude”) can yield Kemetic symbolism alongside quotidian city dwelling (“Bum a loosie offa Sekhmet”), can twist and turn from Swahili to Chicago hip-hop (“Habari gani, / One day it’ll make sense”), and conclude with a blaxploitation film screening that leaves whitefolks’ eyebrows raised. Curly Castro, a tru master of maximalism In the Ways of the Scales, word to Brother J.

ShrapKnel flex mechanical shells, and Curly Castro is a b-boy fabulist. Rather than eschew surplusage, he welcomes it. He moves maxi- and mega- in what Stefano Ercolino calls the “encyclopedic mode” wherein each song becomes an archive of subcultural signs. On “Metallo,” Castro’s maximalism bends into a barrage of references: Breaking Bad, Killarmy, Darrell Walker, J.R.R. Tolkien, Gordon Ramsay, Raekwon, Outkast, Monta Ellis, AZ, et cetera. His allusions collapse under the weight of each other, resulting in hybrids—mongrels. Mongr-allusions like “Slick Ricky in dah Foxhole” in which rapper Slick Rick and pretty-boy baller Rick Fox become one entity. These hypertrophic lines accumulate bar by bar, and—before long—you’re lost in the deluge. A twenty-first century rendition of what Hugo Ball did in the Dada Manifesto, dated July 14, 1916: “Dada Stendhal. Dada Dalai Lama,” conflating the French novelist and the Tibetan tulku. Tack on Black Thought’s “South Philly, Dalai Lama” slight rewrite for the performance of “The Next Movement” from The Roots Come Alive, and we edge closer to what Castro achieves. El Producto once called them “manimal hybrids” on “End to End Burners.”

Even when ShrapKnel doesn’t explicitly construct the mongr-allusion, it’s implicit. If you’ve done the work, shown and proven yourself worthy, the matrices will materialize right before your very eyes. [Rappers got on colored contacts but they better realize, as a wise intelligent redhead wonce said.] In Prem’s words (from “Dadaism 3”), you’ve got to “read in between the seams of the embroidery.” All of their verses amount to what Ray Bradbury called “fearful puzzles”—and lethargic listeners avoid looking too closely or delving too deeply. The past is present and the future is now, and so when Prem promises to “let a bygone be bygone” only to revoke it (“...even though I won’t”), he suddenly back-slashes to Mase in an utterly different context: 112’s “Only You” (1996) where a girl goes around with thousands in her palms. “Why you can’t let bygones be bygones?” Because nothing is ever gone for ShrapKnel; nothing outmoded, nothing defunct, everything of use.

Prem immediately invokes the “funhouse mirror” on “Metallo”—everything appears in the funhouse mirror, but its reflection is warped. This is another maximalist turn, true to John Barth’s Lost in the Funhouse (1968). “For whom is the funhouse fun?” Barth asks. Perhaps it’s fun for the MC who observes that we’ve “been in post-singularity since that AI Georgetown Hoya team.” He’s Hugo Baller. Prem, who has “learned to astral project since quarantine,” adroitly sustains a trisyllabic rhyme scheme [“nightmares deployed in threes,” for the uninitiated] throughout his verse on “Dadaism 3.” His intensive and keen listenings [to the likes of an 89.9 detrimental frequency] over the years have led to a constant state of becoming, of being, of becoming a radiohead. In his own way, he’s the “paranoid android loitering,” absorbing knowledge—be it a Fondle ‘Em 12-inch from 1997, “speaking noxious” like Cage Kennylz; or the debut LP of a quintet from Oxford in 1993, wondering about the “creeping doubt” that “keeps rattling [his] cage” like Thom Yorke—and then he dispenses it to his audience in the form of Aesop fables (“splitting hairs[/hares], slow and steady on my Tortoise speed”) and Wojnarowski scoops (“Otto Porter top-of-market deal”). This process—playing the long game—might have you “forget the words [he] just blurted out,” but he’s gonna continue to get “open till he’s brain-dead, till you’re brain-dead.”

4.11

The Roots Come Alive (1999) begins—not with The Roots—but with Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five traveling through time to hit us “Live from the T-Connection,” nesting one of the earliest hip-hop recordings of a live event within the content of a live recording on the eve of Y2K destruction. Lineage matters, The Roots acknowledge, and these transmitted words are just as relevant to a ShrapKnel performance in 2024:

Now I know this ain’t the best party in the world, but let me explain something to y’all, New York. It ain’t no party unless each and every one of you try to make it a party—you dig what I’m saying? Make each record your best record, and we could rock all night long.

4.111

Supporters came from across the country, from overseas even, to experience the ShrapKnel showcase. “A whole lot of superstars in the house tonight,” Prem said at one point, echoing Rev. Run. Friends and kinfolx from Switzerland, California, Seattle, New Mexico, Texas, Philadelphia, Connecticut… Fuck it, we’ll do it live! Prem shouted to his tourmates standing stage-side—an inside-joke, an O’Reilly parody—but keeping that same passion and energy through “Dadaism 3” and “Steel Pan Labyrinth.” “If anyone ever asks you the question,” the intro to Live Hardcore Worldwide declares, “Who is the number one set and sound? You will quickly reply…”

“ShrapKnel.”

4.2

On “Why Is That?” off Live Hardcore Worldwide, KRS-One breaks down the genealogy of Blackness in the Bible acapella and announces that “the age of the ignorant rapper is done.” That was in the 1-9-9-1. But in the 2-0-2-4, Curly Castro finds himself disillusioned by KRS’s pontifications and panderings to the likes of New York City’s top coprophage, Mayor Adams. “Halcyon Hip-Hop inna Temple, / Membership would Bend, / KRS, of course, would sell the course, / But then the Fun would End.” Let’s all hold hands and hum along to Co Flow’s “Happy Happy Joy Kill,” hmm?

Castro resembles one of Dada’s “honored poets,” in the words of Hugo Ball, “who are always writing with words but never writing the word itself, who are always writing around the actual point.” Castro writes around the actual point, but he’s never pointless. You can listen to his 9mm go bang on the chorus of “Dadaism 3” (Wa da da Dee Dee da da Dee Dee da da Day), and it harmonizes with Ball issuing forth an invocation: “dada m’dada, dada m’dada dada mhm, dada dere dada.”

Before I go on live all my enemies try to contrive

plots to make my whole entire routine take a swan dive.

But this ain’t commercialized hip-hop…

—Buck 65 (1999)

“LIVE Element,” but DEATH pervades Nobody Planning to Leave. LIVE in all CAPS—a stylized emphasis on life and living, but O DEATH, none can excel. ShrapKnel refuse & resist! They arrive as a def fresh crew, and like the haintish vocal of Roxanne Shanté echoing across galaxies, they came here tonight to get started, but not to cold act ill in any sense other than she intended. Certainly nothing cellular. No icy hands get ahold of them. Hip-hop, each and every mic check, is Life or Death—you’re breathing the sniper’s breath. DEATH is everywhere on Nobody Planning to Leave, from the David Berman references, quotations, and puns to PremRock’s opening words on the album. Prem spurns DEATH; instead, he will go thou and preach his gospel (Luke 9:60 KJV): “I don’t wanna bury the dead, / Pallbearer for carried dread.” He lifts the gossamer veil so that he “might sneak through” and survive. He knows from Black Thought—in sharing some of the blackest of thoughts—that if you “step into the realm, you’re bound to get caught, / And from this worldly life, you’ll soon depart.”

Prem knows this region well; he knows the feel of ash beneath foot and the hematic heat against his face. On “Bardo,” the CD-only bonus cut from Load Bearing Crow’s Feet, he grapples with the pre-grief of existential knowing. “See, I’ve been told a lie,” he raps on the chorus, “swans don’t actually sing when they die, / They hit the same note you do when you croak, / No poetic epilogue or even goodbye, / But I be waiting over here on this side.” He’s on the side of the living, of poetic monologues, of greetings and gratitude. The only death rattle he recognizes is the one he hears at the end of a night of performing, his voice ragged. He imagines the walls “stress[ing] the importance of time… / Muttering something ’bout chakras and alignment.” But for his living self, what matters is more material than all that. “I be at the mom and pop shop to drop me off some consignment,” he says. To “get [his] affairs in order” has nothing to do with firming up his estate; it’s about getting paid in full. Equating his music career [Doseone calls “music career” an oxymoron, by the way] with impending death is only one example of the artist qualifying/quantifying life and livelihood—but there’s really no quantizing Death’s drums. On “Nutkracker Blues,” Castro talks about the urgency of having a verse “at the deadline and it’s Gotta be Perfect.”

Conventional thinking insists that there’s a transitory nature, a finitude, to doing what they do, these rappers. In 2002, on “Shrapnel,” Slug said, “I can’t remember who asked me, but someone asked me, / How long I thought that I would be allowed atop this trash heap.” Atmosphere, it just so happens, is the quintessential indie hip-hop success story, touring extensively and endlessly, selling out thousand-seat capacity ballrooms, pavilions, and amphitheaters—even two decades after those words were recorded. But most artists end up with “shards of pulled cards scattered on the carpet” (as Slug raps on “Shrapnel”); as Prem says on “Human Form,” you’re hustling from “bassinet to coffin.” On “Illusions of P,” he cloaks the agony of abbreviation in a clever pun about Royal Tenenbaum (“you fake ill”). The gut punch, though, is realizing “none of this will last forever.” While he can, he continues: “You only pray it will. / Illusions of hunting permanence, you pray still, / Ay still, lay still, lay still.” What’s the worst fate of all? Another dearly departed artist yet to make a dent.

5.1

The monetizing of emotions and songs, the dividends paid or owed, the commodification of life lived, could make it feel like you’ve been dealt a bum hand. “You got all these songs that you never play for anyone,” Prem raps on “Death on the Installment Plan,” and so he goddamns it. Death on the installment plan—a phrase he cribbed from Céline in 2021—has transformed into Nobody Planning to Leave in 2024. NOBODY DEATH-PLANNING, in other words. If we look at the novel itself from 1936, we can find a shred of hope, though. Provided here, context-less, a page from Céline [apply it to Prem and/or Castro, won’t you?]:

To command his audience… He explained the working of the valves, the guy rope, the barometers, the laws of weight and ballast. Then carried away by his subject, he embarked on other fields, expatiating, ad-libbing without order or plan, about meteorology, mirages, the winds, cyclones… He touched on the planets, the stars… Everything was grist for his mill: the zodiac, Gemini…Saturn…Jupiter…Arcturus and its contours…the moon…Bellegophorus and its relief… He pulled measurements out of his hat… About Mars he could talk at length… He knew it well… It was his favorite planet… He described all the canals, their shape and itinerary! their flora! as if he’d gone swimming in them!… While he was perched up there shooting the shit, spellbinding the masses, I took up a little collection…

I was in Public Records to take up a little collection.

5.11

ShrapKnel spellbinds the masses with everything from superheroes to supervillains to sports figures of legend and little renown. Castro is MC John Corben—Metallo with metal lungs. The fluoroscope reveals the metallic structure of his bones and organs, and he’s got kryptonite in his fuse-box, which is to say he’s got a kind of death totem close at heart. The trouble is, Castro found himself stricken by the sense of green, glowing death that Metallo delivered to Superman. He won’t relinquish his life, though. He refuses the sick-box. He’s riding to Babylon by bus but persevering through every torment or trial, hell or high water. He will lively up himself against all odds.

5.111

“The bus door opened and I placed my foot upon the step. Quite suddenly, there was music swelling up into my head, as if a choir of angels had boarded the Second Avenue bus directly in front of me. They were singing the last chorus of an old spiritual of hope: Gonna die this death on Cal—va—ryyyyy BUT AIN’T GONNA DIE NO MORE…! Their voices sweet and powerful over the din of the Second Avenue traffic. I stood transfixed on the lower step of the bus. “Hey girlie, your fare!” I shook myself and dropped my two coins into the fare-box. The music was still so real I looked around me in amazement as I stumbled to a seat. Almost no one else was in the late-morning bus, and the few people who were there were quite ordinarily occupied and largely silent. Again the angelic orchestration swelled, filling my head with the sharpness and precision of the words; the music was like a surge of strength. It felt rich with hope and a promise of life—more importantly, a new way through or beyond pain. I’ll die this death on Calvary ain’t gonna die no more! The physical realities of the dingy bus slid away from me.”

—Audre Lorde, Zami: A New Spelling of My Name (1982)

5.2

When Curly Castro writes his biomythography, it might well be titled Babylon by Bus. Footnotes might detail the routines of road life, like Warren G vacuuming the tour bus in The Show; early chapters might reflect on the Kris Kross-type innocence of missing a school bus (“And that is something I will never ever ever do again”); he might dispense with rumors and “dickhead logic,” celebrating collaborations like “Babylon by Bus” with woods and Prem; but he most definitely will amalgamate his years of movements and commotions into a totalizing whole. Everything that rises must converge, as Flannery O’Connor says. Bob Marley and the Wailer’s Babylon by Bus will evolve into Mike Ladd’s “Blade Runner” (1997), which in turn becomes “Bladerunners” (1999) with Co Flow featured, but retains the same lyric nonetheless: “As we do babylon by bus straight to Rikers.” See, it’s about building, about building, about bringing more bodies onboard the bus.” The bus stopped with a sudden jerk and shook him from his meditation.

5.21 THE CENTRAL PARK CHAPTER

The biomythography will provide a meta-commentary on ShrapKnel’s arc as a group (just as “LIVE Element” does). The chapter might be titled “Hip-Hop Heaven,” which is what Castro has called the weekend of August 13-15 in 2021. He meant heaven in terms of enthroned deities rather than death, but DEATH determined itself.

The SummerStage performance was headlined by Armand Hammer and The Alchemist. Moor Mother, Kayana, Fielded, and GENG PTP were also on the bill. It was a major booking for ShrapKnel. “We got at least two lives to give tonight,” Prem raps on “Nutkracker Blues,” and though the song sympathizes with Group Home in flashes, the sentiment speaks to the duality of that Central Park performance. “You are what you leave unexhumed,” Prem adds, and so the death knell resonates endlessly, like tinnitus. Leave it all out there on the floor, on the stage. Dig deep; don’t look back.

CURLY CASTRO: The Central Park show was a level up for an Armand Hammer-led show w/ Backwoodz as support. It was our first time meeting and performing with The Alchemist. Unbeknownst to me, my back and spine was riddled with cancerous Tumors. I was in a good amount of pain; I just didn’t let anyone know, not even Prem. Couldn’t phuck up this opportunity for ShrapKnel and the live premiere of my “Phuck Puff” verse on “Wishing Bad.” So, in essence, it was the last show before I broke my hip a few months later and found out just how sick I actually Was.

PREMROCK: I don’t think woods could believe it was actually happening while it was either. I watched Backwoodz artists go from horrendous sound at a fifty cap room to this? Truly a sight and testament to what can happen when you stick to your guns. Having Alchemist back us onstage and just before sit in the trailer and tell us stories of hip-hop lore probably made our year at the least. A high point of our career followed briskly by the biggest tribulation. A microcosm of life and dedication on several levels. A day and night we will never forget!

Castro has called that Central Park performance “the last moment of ignorance.” PremRock, presciently, also recorded “Bardo” that same weekend. On “LIVE Element,” Castro cuts through the static: “Central Park show while my Cancer was Raging, / Stage 4 on the Stage for Edutainment.” He enta’d the stage to exhibit to the audience how the Blackman’s in Effect. The performance stage and the stage of his cancer replicating like cells. But no Cell Therapy to speak of. He was backed by Alchemist, a stroke of luck “how the Game Spin,” but the Wheel of Fortune spins centrifugal, spins like the minds of children at the carnival listening to the “carousel calliope, among the hills, piping [Chopin’s] ‘Funeral March’ backwards,” to borrow something from Ray Bradbury. “LIVE Element” refrains from becoming a dirge.

5.22

In December 2001, Ray Bradbury posted his origin story to his website:

During the Labor Day week of 1932 a favorite uncle of mine died; his funeral was held on the Labor Day Saturday. If he hadn’t died that week, my life might not have changed because, returning from his funeral at noon on that Saturday, I saw a carnival tent down by Lake Michigan. I knew that down there, by the lake, in his special tent, was a magician named Mr. Electrico. Mr. Electrico was a fantastic creator of marvels. He sat in his electric chair every night and was electrocuted in front of all the people, young and old, of Waukegan, Illinois. When the electricity surged through his body he raised a sword and knighted all the kids sitting in the front row below his platform. I had been to see Mr. Electrico the night before. When he reached me, he pointed his sword at my head and touched my brow. The electricity rushed down the sword, inside my skull, made my hair stand up and sparks fly out of my ears. He then shouted at me, “Live forever!”

Castro raps forever on “LIVE Element,” leaving behind any pressure or protocol to limit himself to sixteen bars. He raps endlessly, staving off death. He raps like his life depends on it. He “roam[s] Earth” and will “give [his] Old Bones the Last Word.” He raps “Back & Forth” with Prem like “When the Lox work[ed] with Made Men.” The song was “Tommy’s Theme,” another eerie premonition if we consider the role of one Tommy McMahon (Controller 7). “Something this way Comes Wicked,” Castro raps, inverting inversions. Bradbury’s “Something Wicked This Way Comes,” a 1962 dark fantasy novel inspired by his own carnival experience, forebodes a chilling prospect. Not quite as frigid as Castro’s “Cold Vein back-to-back Liquid Swords Winter,” but as grim as hospital corridors and morgue thermostats nonetheless.

Mr. Dark, Bradbury’s sinister carnival barker, feeds off fears and engenders negative energies from his young audience:

Alive! Mr Dark’s lips licked and savoured. Alive. Come alive. He racheted the switch to the last notch. Live, live! Somewhere, dynamos protested, skirled, shrilled, moaned a bestial energy... Dead dead, thought Will. But live alive! cried machines, cried flame and fire, cried mouths of crowds of livid beasts on illustrated flesh.

Microphones and preamps and 4-tracks and DAWs—these are the machines that make civilization fun. Curly Castro and PremRock wield their own spiritual powers. Prem, according to Castro, “lifts crowds,” but together, they can “open [a] portal on stage,” The Prestige style, and “flip crowds.” Some true Aleister Crowley-type Magick (Elemental Theory); pentacles and penwork. The ShrapKnel lyric booklet is a grimoire. They “crack the codex like a soothsayer,” so says Prem.

5.3

“Sometimes we draw dead and draft failure,” Prem admits. They draw dead crowds, that is—lifeless and disinterested. “The math fails ya” sometimes, and the Supreme Mathematics go stupid-simple. But it’s okay when the ticket sales and rating scales don’t add up, because they “don’t need the accolades,” Prem says defiantly, assuredly. What they share is stronger than those metrics. Prem and Castro shared a phone call with billy woods the night before Castro fell and found himself hospitalized—an ill communication.

Facing uncertain futures, PremRock steadied the shaking stage. “When we got the diagnosis,” he raps, “I didn’t know how to pronounce that, / Plus I was already thinking ’bout the bounceback, / And with every bounced track I know no illness can slow the blade of a determined razor.” Note: when “we” got the diagnosis—the fraternal order of MCs; the die-cast duo; Shrap and the Family Rock; i.e., no one suffers alone. Prem helps them stay afloat with the assonantal buoyancy of “pronounce,” “’bout,” “bounceback,” and “bounced track.” Music will get them there (“every bounced track”).

And thus we get Castro spitting his verse from Armand Hammer’s “Wishing Bad” on the Center Park SummerStage. We hear his prophetic lyric: “Phuck Puff, / Survivor’s remorse should keep him phucked up!” (“Did any line age better than that one?” Prem asked the crowd at Public Records. “My man knew.”) And thus we hear that very audio clip at the conclusion of “LIVE Element,” a song which chronicles. “Phuck Puff” now immortalized on tour t-shirts available at the ShrapKnel merch table. At Public Records, Castro picked up the last line of Prem’s refrain (“3rd Eye glow like Hiero, / Seen it comin’ like 5-0 at the live show”) and made it a call-and-response. At the live show! AT THE LIVE SHOW! Inspired, Castro cut into an impromptu acapella version of his “Wishing Bad” verse, only to call-and-response the “Phuck Puff / Phucked Up” hook, damning those which need to be damned.

Prem mentions “selling enchantment by the package” on “Steel Pan Labyrinth,” but you can’t commodify craft. He’s not a peddler, anyway—he’s a performer. For one of two solo performances, Prem rapped about how his “human form” is a “uniform” (with that lovely autological bent), something he does, or dons, “to belong.” Is his performing self the authentic version, or is his non-performing self the stock character? Is his uniform a “Uni-4-Orm,” like Canibus in ’97, a hired hand meant to “pulverize MCs and blow up mics, / From street corner cyphers to international websites?” Does raw imply honest? (Funny how Prem’s regular employment is bartender, while on stage he’s also a bar-tender.) The blurry boundary between these opposing selves leaves Prem rudderless: “I’ll admit I’m catatonic, / Chart the pattern of vomit, / Sonnet in the style of Vonnegut, postmodernist.” He spews, minimalistically, like so many bar patrons spinning on stools, but discovers purpose in the identifiable “pattern[s]” and emerging “sonnet[s].” Turns dreck to “Protect Ya Neck”-level compositions. And—even impressiver—he pivots political-cum-analogical to bring us back to the idea of selling one’s self and/or selling one’s wares: “You are who you’re in Congress with, / Closeted moderates post black squares / Then act scared of actual progress ’cause it’s profitless.” But lemme chill…

6.1

“Doseone is in the house,” Castro shouted-out between “Human Form” and “Mescalito.” “If you don’t know, get acclimated. And if you don’t know, you’re stupid.”

6.11

NAHreally: Some shows really feel like an indie rap convention, and this was definitely one of them. Everywhere you turned was someone you knew or knew of—and the steady stream of special guests onstage only added to that feeling. The way the room erupted when woods came out for a few songs was special. The first time I ever saw (and heard of) PremRock and Castro was at a sparsely attended (perhaps more so poorly promoted) Armand Hammer show in 2018 at The Kingsland in Brooklyn. Castro was an opener and Prem jumped up for some tracks throughout the night. If I remember right, the crowd was probably high single digits. Since then, I’ve seen woods and ELUCID headline some packed rooms, but to get to see ShrapKnel fill up Public Records and bring woods up as a guest felt like a full circle moment. Triumph was definitely in the air at this show—something like a victory lap for putting in the work and staying true.

MO NIKLZ: woods came out in an Adidas Jamaican-colored jacket I gave him as a present. I bartered pickles for that jacket.

woods performed “Babylon by Bus,” “383 Myrtle,” and crowd favorite “Spongebob.” “Babylon by Bus” required some mic manipulation. “Why you give me the feedback mic though?” woods scoffed. Castro sang woods’ praises (“He has created the greatest label on the planet…”), and woods spread the love right back: “Prem booked my first real tour in this country, and Castro’s been down forever. This is just family.” After a “Spongebob” false start (“My babysitter’s getting 40 dollars an hour…we’re doing this!”), woods gave the crowd—in full darkness—what they wanted to hear. What’s apparent is that the whole operation is no longer under water.

billy woods: I was just proud and happy to see Castro and Prem have that kind of night. They are my colleagues and co-workers, but they are also my good friends, and great human beings, to boot. Also, I love ShrapKnel's records; I put them out because I love those albums, but I really feel like they are better live than on record, which is not something you can say for a lot of acts right now. So, this was also my first time seeing their new live set, and it’s just the kind of thing that makes you say, Yes, this is it right here. So I was happy for my friends, I was proud of whatever role Backwoodz has been able to play in their ascendancy, and I was really soaking in the music.

Fatboi Sharif got onstage in his capacity as King Geedorah in a pink summer hat and open-chest button down, his magnetism throbbing like gravity beams as he splattered words over a schizzing loop.

FATBOI SHARIF: [The track’s] not even recorded—I just do it at shows. I had DJ Boogaveli loop the first three seconds of Redman’s “Basically” from Dare Iz a Darkside.

CHOP THE HEAD: Watching Fatboi Sharif dance and sway his way around the show, laughing and turning people up, and then step on stage to deliver wide-eyed haunting intensity in a huge pink church lady hat… He left my house fifteen minutes ago after an hours-long argument with DRIVEBY about the nature of evil, more specifically about whether Charles Manson is more evil than Popeye’s Chicken.

7.1

By the time SKECH185 stepped onstage, having already witnessed woods and Sharif before him, I felt like I was watching Brian Robbins’ The Show documentary, and Public Records was transformed into a more modest version of the 32nd Street and Lancaster Avenue Armory on December 10, 1994—wormhole shit. SKECH performed “Up To Speed,” a rafter-rattler I’ve seen him rock on several occasions. Did I go hard enough? he asks a multitude of trusted friends and musicians. The answer is never less than a resounding YES. “You did go hard enough for me,” Prem deadpanned.

SKECH185: I hit [Prem and Castro] up to see if they had booked the bill. I guess they had, but they said they would bring me out for a song. It was my night off, so it was a no-brainer. We all went on tour last year, and I have music with those cats, so it made sense. It was fun. They rocked at my release party last year so it was full circle. I’ve been doing music with Castro going back ten or so years, and Prem and I were co-workers for a time, plus we have music together. Those men are like family.

CHOP THE HEAD: I’ve never seen anyone rap like SKECH185. Raw conviction.

“We roll with killahzzzz!” Castro shouted after SKECH put the mic down.

7.11

AJ SUEDE: We knew about a month or two in advance that I’d be landing in NY (from the UK/EU G’s Us tour) the day before the album release party. I was invited to be a guest and, of course, I couldn’t refuse that. It was great to see everybody I know and meet a couple new people in the process. Since I was in New York, I knew it was only right to play a song from Reoccurring Characters. Everybody featured on the album was in the building. “Tell Me When to van Gogh” always goes crazy in a live setting. The drums!

On “Deep Space 9 Millie Pulled a Pistol” (a title coined by Controller 7, but he must’ve done so while interiorizing a certain ShrapKnel modality, methodology, modus operandi), Prem alludes to not one, but two, El-P classicks: “Deep Space 9mm” and “Last Good Sleep.” He interpolates the latter’s chorus:

At night I cover my ears in tears the man right in front of me drank too many beers. Every dream, every night, I take his life, waiting for my chance to make it right.

Prem’s death-obsessing is externalized elsewhere, onto an [un]worthy subject.

8.1

When El-P performed “Last Good Sleep” at the final Company Flow show (“The Open Casket Show”) on March 28th 2001, he did so through tears. His mother, the subject of the song who was swallowed when she was hollow, stood in the audience. I should’ve been at the Bowery Ballroom that night, bearing witness, but instead I skipped. Maybe because it was a school night and I didn’t have permission; maybe because I was too lazy to buy a ticket; maybe because I was just a fucking dumbass with no sense of historicity. But my friend Omar (the producer The Shah) attended, telling me peace out as he exited his driveway to head to the city while I played ball in the street with his younger brother. I gave him shit for going without me, but the fact is I could’ve gone with him if I’d made the effort. My only consolation was the flyer he brought me back as a memento.

“Worry Doll,” the wobbling, comedown closing track on Nobody Planning to Leave, finds Castro reflecting on the fleeting isolation he felt in college. “Lune TNS warp my anthem on Campus, / While every other dorm blast the Unit with Whoo Kid.” That alienation that invigorates; a specialized sensibility that inspires—John Singleton couldn’t capture that “higher learning turned End to End Burning” to camera. And so it seemed fated that El-P’s face would appear on a tablet, wishing Castro well while he was wheelchair-bound, recovering from his illness. Castro suddenly had the man behind “Bad Touch Example” at his fingertips with touchscreen technology—it was an emotional moment, but also apropos. There was something so psyence fiction about that mode of communication—something so Blade Runner, so 2001: A Space Odyssey, so Deltron 3030, Megaton B-Boy 2000, 5000 Miles West of the Future. It was everything for the man—the MC and producer and godhead of independent rap—to reach out and express his strength and support. Cancer 4 Cure, sure—El had dealt with Camu Tao’s lung carcinoma diagnosis and death, and so too had the underground scene experienced it from the sidelines. The tablet message to Castro essentially said: You should pump this shit like they do in the future.

Before the closing number, Prem told the audience that they “wanted to build a night that you wouldn’t see anywhere else,” and that objective was achieved. Castro and Prem then literally leaned on each other as they performed “Running Rebel Swordplay” to end their hour-long set.

9.1

Lights went up. The crowd thinned out. I straggled, wall-flowered, wondering, What’s next? I eventually exited the main space and found all those same recognizable faces from the show lined up in the trellised tunnel leading to the street. Controller 7, lugging his box of gear, Curly Castro, and PremRock all emerged from the venue and exited through that corridor. Friends on either side cheered them lovingly. Mo Niklz unfurled a folding table on the sidewalk and displayed a small pyramid of pickle tupperwares.

9.11

Oh shit, now here’s a cypher…

—Curly Castro, “Sadatay”

As AKAI SOLO and his TASE GRIP contingent exited the tunnel, AKAI—feeling the thrum—began to elucidate all the things that are hip-hop, which is to say, everything. “Brooklyn is…HIP-HOP, the dark sky is…HIP-HOP, my people are…HIP-HOP!...” There was a particular cadence and rhythm to his speech, which could be easily misconstrued as rapping, and that was all Doseone needed to set it off. I’d seen him on the sidewalk, like a predator tracking the bloodscent, his broad shoulders hunched as he dragged on a cigarette. As AKAI and his crew turned curbside, Dose stepped into the street and began freestyling. A circle spontaneously closed around him. I maneuvered with the quickness to the outer perimeter and pressed record on my Dictaphone, positioning myself to Dose’s left.

Doseone, that rough beast slouching toward Butler Street, that clutcher of a thousand skulls, expectorated a string of freestyled words:

I find myself turning science into gutting an entire abdomen of a cheetah, When I work harder, it goes world of words, hearth-beater. I’m out here looking for yourself, Conceiver of entire men out of mud, What he did, what he did with these rappers was duds, and I exploded like a whole lot of love lava.

I could tell from the expressions on faces that only about half the crowd gathered knew who Dose was, and even fewer computed what was unfolding. But those in the know knew what time it was. Dose spit another few bars (“Bleeding possibly with a tourniquet, / I go at it, and I burn ’em once again, / Resurrect ’em and pull up by the sternum and pull they chest out”), and then the beatbox joined in (courtesy of Q No Rap Name, with later contributions from Wavy Bagels). Castro, possessed with the same cypher-sense as Dose, entered the circle and rapped with a hesitant flow:

Do things as we flip ’em, get ’em, Flying over ya head like a gryphon, forgiven, You can’t even believe me, I made it out the system, The Matrix ain’t got four parts, you better listen.

Castro passed to SKECH185: “Similar to devils, like to hell, breaking heaven down, / It don’t matter, the bread leavens, and everybody moves around.”

[fragments, because transcriptions are no substitute for being there]

Doseone: “I disappear and then I reappear again wearing your very favoritest rappers’ skins…” AKAI SOLO: “I’m armed with just bravado and still bend the metal…” Castro: “Let me catch wreck, / Commercial’s ITT Tech…” Doseone: “Rappers need everything and their mothers to hug ’em…” AJ Suede: “The world keeps spinning on its own time…” Castro: ��We underground, under rap, under earth, under term, / And if you need something, get under, get burnt…” Doseone: “Every bath I take is completely red…” SKECH: “High-tops made out of human skin…”

CHOP THE HEAD: I watched ShrapKnel body that set, Curly leaving everything on the stage, and then walk up to SKECH outside and say, We rhymin’? SKECH started beatboxing and started up the cypher. When SKECH wanted to rap, my man Q No Rap Name held the beat down for them. He told me later he had no clue Doseone was there until that happened, and he had been a huge fan of his for years. That moment showed me everything I needed to know about those artists. Are we rhyming, or what?

DUNCECAP: The cypher outside was magical and reminded me why I love hip-hop. Seeing Legends commingling with Future Legends.

Q NO RAP NAME: That cypher was crazy. Fuckin’ Doseone was there spittin’—I couldn’t believe it.

SKECH185: It was cool but relatively uneventful as cyphers go. I was mad my voice was going out. Doseone is one of my heroes, so it was cool to freestyle with him. Castro and I usually freestyle together when we are in the same place. It reminded me that freestyle cyphers rarely happen nowadays (as you could tell by the lack of beatboxers), but it was refreshing and much needed. Dose talked to me about starting a cypher earlier in the evening.

DOSEONE: I truly feel perfectly lucked to have experienced a creative competitive healthy hardcore group of people who push themselves to make outstanding rap as art!

9.111

I [re-]introduced myself to Dose, having not spoken to him since our marathon phone calls a few years ago for the aforementioned Anticon book. This was my first time seeing him in-person in 22 years. I last saw him in Tribeca at the Knitting Factory in 2002 performing alongside Jel and Alias—a night I documented as well (on 8mm video). He thanked me and expressed his appreciation for the work I’ve been doing, which felt good, especially considering I don’t think he really has any concept of how exhaustive the Anticon book is going to be. To be speaking to him at a Backwoodz event, rhyming beside artists that have rekindled my interest and engendered this indie rap renaissance, was yet another symbol of convergence. He told me had been at Dove’s the day before with Tommy, Scott Matelic, and Fatboi Sharif. Sharif, I said, was a seeker. (He knew.) Moments later, I saw woods and Dose huddled together in hushed conversation. Someone put out the call for a group photograph, and everybody gathered in the middle of Butler Street for a Gordon Parks “Great Day”-style flick. “FREE PALESTINE on three,” AKAI shouted. One, two, three…

9.2

“Just peep the words of my agnostic prayer,” Open Mike Eagle raps on “Dadaism 3.” Every word I write isn’t 25-to-life, but if all goes well, each paragraph will be received as an agnostic prayer. On his most recent solo effort, Another Triumph of Ghetto Engineering (2023), OME told the world, “We got people though.” Two tracks—“We Should Have Made Otherground a Thing” and “Dave Said These Are the Liner Notes”—speak to the power of our scenes and communities, which, truly, is a single unified community. (It’s an acknowledgement that Slug made in songform in 2000 with Atmosphere’s dewy-eyed “Travel,” a B-side on the Ford Two 12-inch—like OME, Slug was “calling all heads of the Earth.”) The underground—or otherground—has been building (steam with a grain of salt) for approximately thirty years. Back when many of us started in this in the late 90s and early aughts, we had no elders (I spoke to NAHreally about this while posted up in Public Rex). We were just a room full, or message board full, of teenagers and heads in their early twenties. We didn’t know shit. Aceyalone might’ve called us Knownots. But now we’ve got representation across generations—we have mentors from the pre-millennium, youngbloods learning the way of the subterranean walk, and whoever else falls between.

Spirit. Convergence.

10.

MO NIKLZ: After the show, a group of about twenty of us started heading out to another bar. Controller 7 asked me, “Is this normal?” I said, “It depends on the group and performer, but with PremRock, it’s very common, yes.” We ended up closing out the next bar we went to. Doseone had the nicest conversation with me saying, “Keep up the good work and especially all the shipping for Fake Four—it’s so important for the kids,” which I hadn’t even really thought about in a long time. I told him how happy I was to meet him and how there’s such a short list of people I’d actually want to meet, and he did not disappoint. He agreed saying, “Yeah, don’t meet your heroes.”

10.1

We were at the Brooklyn Inn. I ended my night like I began it—in conversation with Controller 7, Scott Matelic, and Emynd. Tommy was clearly elated with how things had gone. He awkwardly gripped vinyl to his chest as he sipped his beer and smiled ear to ear. Castro hopped in a car after the cypher, but Prem, the eternal nighthawk, reveled in his post-show glow, holding barside conversations with peers aplenty. Dose, too, was making the rounds, affable as he is, and he eventually joined our conversation. Ever the hip-hop historian, he entertained us with an invented—though no doubt veracious—account of one Parrish Smith arriving at Power Play Studios for the Business As Usual sessions in 1990, only to describe the premise of “Mr. Bozack” to one Erick Sermon. “And you’re going to play the part of my dick!”

11. CODA

The next night, I was privileged to see ShrapKnel perform in North Jersey. Soldato Books in Rutherford sells both books and records, but it’s housed in the Williams Center, which functions as an arts center and movie theater as well—and just steps from the former residence of William Carlos Williams. The Jersey tour stop was more sparsely attended (I counted about 25 heads, many of which were family, friends, and fellow performers) and suffered from some pretty significant technical difficulties. The soundsystem was little more than a PA, and the acoustics left much to be desired, especially in the shadow of what we all experienced just 24 hours prior at Pub Rex. The performance space was essentially a mezzanine with couches and balcony access. Roper Williams and Sharif were posted up outside, hopefully brainstorming and mindfucking the basis for their Something About Shirley follow-up. NAHreally endeared the crowd with his didactic raps, a consummate performer with a comedian’s sense of timing and poise. He passed out bookmarks advertising his album with The Expert, BLIP. (I took two.) DRIVEBY went to work for a short but potent beat set. OneShotOnce got on the mic and ripped. Sharif went shirtless for a raucous rendition of “Fly Pelican,” his vocals lovingly distorted. The only performer who was lucky enough to evade sound trouble was L.I.F.E. Long. The performance of his “Battle for Asgard” verse nearly split the atom.

PREMROCK: L.I.F.E. Long is a person that truly embodies hip-hop. He is also a beacon of positivity who seemingly never ages! I vividly remember him watching me at an open mic in Bed-Stuy in ’08. I would scour the web for any opportunities that looked like I could get up there to get my reps in. This one was definitely on the lower rung of quality, but I showed out for sure. It was shortly after my song or two that L.I.F.E. walked up to me and said, “You killed it! You’re too nice to be at this one—you should come to mine,” and handed me a flyer for a Newark mic he ran every Saturday. I looked at the flyer and realized who he was. Can Ox!? Stronghold!? I was very aware and it really energized me, and I didn’t miss any of those shows for a while. We went on to do a few things together and become fast friends. I would say his advice and belief in me was a big factor in my development. Time and life (no pun) has a way of losing touch, but I’ll always give props and try to let him know his importance. I hope I am to others what he was for me. There’s importance in paying things forward. Nobody is going to look out for us if we don’t. To quote Onyx, ALL WE GOT IZ US!

phiik and Lungs negotiated the microphone feedback through their set as best they could, but it made me long for the chorus of TASE GRIP voices that were present to support them the night before. Prem and Castro seemed demoralized when they took the stage, which wasn’t a stage. They, like phiik and Lungs before them, chose to perform from behind a makeshift bar on the mezzanine. The bar top served as merch table during the performances, and Castro began by leaning forward and asking the audience, “What can I do for you?” He later went hat-backwards and stood precariously on a folding chair for “LIVE Element.” He left his arm frozen in the air at the end of his verse—a rapper in the Rodin exhibit—holding it there until Prem spit his line about the “bounceback.” They weren’t demoralized, I realized—they were just performing in a more suitable register to the space.

PREMROCK: We are from the open mic era. Ten MCs, one mic, fighting for space to be heard. Imperfect sound is nothing when we think of what we’ve dealt with in the past, and we’re also blessed with good voices that can cut through the bullshit. Hiccups are always going to occur—shit soundperson, unexpected detour, less than ideal sleeping conditions, etc. Malleability is extremely important. To aspiring touring artists: there ain’t no glory out there, but there is truth! And the truth shall set you free!

12. THE CHOIR OF ANGELS BOARD THE SECOND AVENUE BUS TO BABYLON

phiik: Shout out to jesse The Tree. Was intro’d to him by Prem & Castro, and we just hit it off with him immediately. One of the funniest dudes. We had gotten this weed syrup from the Cookies store in Massachusetts, and it just had all of us rolling. But especially Castro, man—he was at the point of tears because of Jesse + the syrup combo. Mind you too, Prem said it was the highest he’s ever seen Castro, and they’ve been kickin’ it for a while. That experience definitely bonded us all right then & there. Can’t wait to get back on the road with everybody again soon.

AUGUST FANON: [It] was like a family reunion of sorts. All the performers have worked together and the listening community that came out to the show felt like they come to all the shows. I’m just getting to NYC and this was my third show as August Fanon, so it’s all new and beautiful to me.

WAVY BAGELS: The ShrapKnel show was magnetic. They ripped the stage as well as everyone that got on. Controller 7 wowed the crowd with his beat set, August Fanon and Child Actor kept the heads nodding with their B2B set, and Lungs & phiik looked comfortable being back home after being on the road. It was also great to run into so many familiar faces and those I finally got to meet in person (Marcus Pinn, AJ Suede, Fanon). Overall an event to remember.

HEIGHT KEECH: This show was inspiring to me as an NYC transplant that’s trying to get my head around the live music landscape. When I saw the Brooklyn stop on Shrapknel’s tour the year before, the crowd was a little light and I thought that their spirits seemed to be a little bit down. It was quite an exciting contrast to see them receiving a massive hero’s welcome like this. Towards the end of their set, I took out my phone to snap a quick picture, only to realize I had been pocket-dialing ten different people since I walked in. I got a few texts like, “Come on, Height,” but Lord Grunge of Grand Buffet had stayed on the line to peep my pocket-dial (while at his job as a Pittsburgh paramedic) and checked the rhymes. He responded with, “New York Flows? Fire.”

STEEL TIPPED DOVE: The buzz is building. I had the pleasure of fully mixing the new ShrapKnel album. Controller 7 sent beat stems and the guys came to my studio to record it all, so I was recording engineer too. I think it’s amazing how packed the show was and who was in attendance too—lots of indie rap legends, for real. People literally traveled from across the country and one guy from Europe. And the album itself is so good. I think that’s proven by the continuing growth of the group.

E. FORTSON: I had a brief conversation with Nosaj at the bar in between sets. At one point, he looked around the room and said, “We built this community.” After the show, when I had a moment to reflect on the night, I realized that the heartbeat of this community is Fatboi Sharif. He’s connected to so many people in this beautiful collective that Nosaj described, and I don’t think that’s a happy accident. He’s deeply invested in this community, in this culture, and people can feel that energy. Seriously, he’s the best hype man out there, and the support he shows his peers, particularly at live events, is incredibly genuine. I don’t know who I watched more at the ShrapKnel release party: the MCS and producers onstage or Fatboi Sharif. If he wasn’t dancing or shouting a “WOOOO!”, he was rapping along to every song. It made the show that much more special for me, and I’m sure that was the case for everyone in that room.

FATBOI SHARIF: It was certainly the feeling and energy that you hope and pray for when you come to a hip-hop show—from the beat sets, to the special guests, to the outside freestyle cypher after the show. I hadn’t experienced all that at one show in some years.

NOAH ANTHONY MEZZACAPPA: Castro and PremRock are great showmen and MCs and clearly put a lot of effort not only into their own performances but into the whole bill. Seeing guys like August Fanon, Child Actor, and Controller 7 and knowing it was a line-up unique to that show was really cool. Like Prem said, he wanted to give the fans something they wouldn’t get anywhere else.

Q NO RAP NAME: ShrapKnel is one of one. Their chemistry is unmatched, and it works for them in real life and on record. I had never seen SKECH185 live before—that was mind-blowing. It was very ill to meet some of these folks who I only ever usually hear on record and learn that they are solid individuals in real life. The underground is like that, and I love it.

DUNCECAP: That night felt like a family reunion. It felt like a couple different facets of the same diamond coming together. It was really special. Lots of love and respect in that room.

NOSAJ:

THE POWER OF SYNERGY

MASTER SPECIALIST

SOUNDTRACK FOR THE MOVIE TAKING PLACE IN THE ROOM THAT EVENING

A STEP FORWARD FOR THE GENRE

PRIDE

CHOP THE HEAD: The show felt like all the heads coming together to celebrate each other, and all these rappers that we recognize are pushing themselves and musical boundaries forward and really getting their due in a proper venue. I’ve seen Armand Hammer in big rooms before, but that bill was 100% killers—everybody knew everybody. The sound was perfect. The speakers were big as fuck. ShrapKnel absolutely burnt it down. As a duo they play off each other so well, and this was mid-tour so their set felt effortless and intense. Curly Castro is a tremendously gifted rapper. In his own terms, he is a master bladesmith and swordsman.

MO NIKLZ: The whole event was definitely something of an NYC indie rap family reunion/networking spot in a lot of ways and hasn’t really existed since Uncommon Nasa and woods stopped doing Yule Prog.

billy woods: It was dope to see all those different energies being exchanged in one place. That sense of community and camaraderie was palpable. There were a lot of great artists in the audience, or jumping on stage to play supporting roles for ShrapKnel and phiik & Lungs, but there was also an August Fanon + Child Actor beat set!!!

DOSEONE: That evening, it meant a lot to me. Most importantly, witnessing underground rap thriving and reforming in the hands of the Backwoodz humans—it’s endlessly important to me. Seeing impeccably written and produced and rapped rap be received entirely and adored is a beautiful thing. Every rapper and producer up there gave perfectly unique artistry in rap form as dictated by their individuality and creativity—FUK YES to that. That competitive collaborative creative energy they are harnessing is so similar yet different to what burned behind anticon as it first formed. And I am really lucky to have experienced that twice in one life.

CONTROLLER 7: It kinda feels like the people that were there maybe just enjoyed it and it was what it was, nobody really reposted for clout or anything, it was just something we all shared that night.

13.

So, nah: I’m not a spiritual person, but I can be inspired—inspired by the expansion of the underground hip-hop canon and rap pantheon. Bigg Jus’s voice reverberates: A hot wire, like the third rail, is live. I can, and did, thrum with the collective breath of those present on these two nights in June. Forevermore, I’ll expect more from june. No death in June. Life is real, word to the Mighty Mos and Roy Ayers Ubiquity. My life, my life, my life, my life. Reporting live for you suckers.

ShrapKnel setlist at Public Records

“Metallo” “Dadaism 3” “Steel Pan Labyrinth” “LIVE Element” “Human Form” “Mescalito” “Babylon by Bus” (billy woods) “383 Myrtle” (billy woods) “Spongebob” (billy woods) “Bogdan Interlude” “[untitled]” (Fatboi Sharif) “Bardo” “Illusions of P” “Up To Speed” (SKECH185) “Dreadlocs Falling” “Tell Me When to van Gogh” (AJ Suede) “Deep Space 9 Millie Pulled a Pistol” “Night of the Living Analogue” “Running Rebel Swordplay”

Performance photos from Public Records courtesy of E. Fortson

#underground hip hop #zines #backwoodz studioz #billy woods #shrapknel

7 notes · View notes

broomsticks · 2 years ago

Text

HP fic rec list: underrated gems of 2022

AO3 collection here. mostly ultra rare pairs, gen fic, character studies, and G/T rated fic. all are short <10k-ish reads (plenty of <1k ficlets) - do give them a read if any look interesting!

transports of delight by @swoontodeath (1.7k, G). The Knight Bus meets the Catbus. Sometimes destiny looks a lot like driving in the same direction.

pairing: Knight Bus (Harry Potter)/Catbus (My Neighbor Totoro). come for the crack ship, stay for the autistic stan shunpike. i’m a sucker for outsider POV and this is why — such great opportunity for some unique characterization, which this author took full advantage of here!

-#-

Life of Pye by @houseofhebrideanblacks (9k, E). Augustus Pye sees patients at St. Mungo's.

SUCH a creative unique fic - love it when authors take their deep IRL expertise and weave it into the canon HP verse. as the author put it, for anyone curious about what a nonmagical doctor sounds like writing about what they imagine magical medicine is like, day in and day out.

“It’s Puddlemere versus the Cannons tonight. The cup final.” Pye stopped mid-stride and mid-thought, shoulders seeming to weep under the weight of realisation. “Oh no,” he almost whispered. “Oh yes,” Marge glowered, “and you’re alone tonight, Rupert is off sick.” “Good heavens,” Pye whimpered, his coffee seeming to shrink in his hand, both in potency and relevance. In the waiting room behind him, three blokes hurricaned in chanting “CANNONS, CANNONS, CANNONS,” their unconscious friend slumped and dragged between them. “You know how it is, Pye,” Marge turned and shuffled back to validate the young witch’s national insurance card. Speaking over her shoulder, she finished, “never a dull moment at Mungo’s.”

-#-

Strangers In A Strange Land by @sleepstxtic (7.5k words, T). Helga, Salazar, and Godric dock in a strange land looking for the elusive fourth member of their team.

helga/rowena, founders friendship with POC Rowena Ravenclaw and Viking Helga Hufflepuff. CANON NODS and POC REP and FEMSLASH and a wonderful fascinating setting — ticks every single one of my AU boxes. another incredibly inventive and criminally underrated story.

-#-

A Different Truth by @paulamcg (2.8k, G). A week before Halloween 1993, when a colleague appreciates his company, Cuthbert may feel alive, even though he's dead and it's Saturday.

ok this is the last time i will say criminally underrated. canon-compliant POA first person cuthbert binns & remus lupin. this could’ve been slash and i would’ve been sold on it. i love their friendship, bonding over literature (of course) and a walk in the woods (so unexpected, but works so well.)

-#-

Meagre Pieces by @vdoshu (1k words, T). The Muggle-born Registration Commission is announced, and Andromeda feels sick.

The fact that the first Muggle-born Minister for Magic was a great victory for equality . . . one which was never again repeated.

@thistlecatfics’s trans teddy tonks x andromeda is taking over the world and i’m here for it. the political commentary in this. doshu you absolute wizard — you’ve got such range and you nail it every. single. time.

-#-

O let the world come at you, love (currently anonymous) (5k, T). Twelve-year-old Harry tries to figure out his parents' polyamorous relationship with Peter Pettigrew.

the first fic for the peter/lily/james tag on AO3, gifted to me for this year’s rare pairs exchange, and it’s all the wholesome fluff i i could’ve wanted from this ship and more!!! so much poly rep!! background wolfstar+tonks (ish), dorlene+implied others, and just the perfect epilogue 🥰

"Does it bother you that your parents are with Pete?" Sirius asked. "No! I know they're polymers."

-#-

Nirmal by @crazybutgood (2.8k, G).

postwar cho/padma. i ADORE this fic. there are literally LINKS to all the places and foods and songs mentioned, it’s an ENTIRE immersive multimedia experience in 3k words - a beautiful and horrendously underappreciated fic, imo.

hawa paani ka badlaav hona chahiye—A change in atmosphere is often needed to improve one's health or state of mind. Literally, a change in the winds, and the water. Parvati quoted that saying to us one evening last month, suggesting that it would be good for Cho and me. My parents knew that I had been with Cho for just over a year then, and welcomed her to stay with us after the Battle … Cho actually looked interested at the idea and suggested our home countries for a month each. And so, we’re currently visiting Mumbai first, staying in a Muggle area at my Muggle maushi’s place, in July—during the monsoon season.

-#-

a heart the size of jupiter (a smile like the sun) by gghostish (300 words, G, no archive warnings).

linny, epileptic luna lovegood. such a lovely achy hurty little thing ❤️

-#-

métamorphoses by @venom0usbarbie (5k, M). The blood curse took her grandmother. And now, she has to pay the piper if she doesn't want it to take her too.

astoria greengrass-centric, astoria & hermione (gen/possible pre-relationship). this fic wow. where do i begin!! the descriptive writing. the angsty family feels. the way barbie writes the blurring of thoughts and feelings and emotions into physical sensations is harrowingly good. check out everything else by her if you liked this, her style is inimitable.

-#-

wood-rush and wildflowers by @nanneramma (500 words, G). Lily has a secret, and it's time to tell Petunia.

wonderful little canon compliant alternate character POV vignette, gorgeous writing. also reccing this horrorific pansy/tom (ad te omnis caro veniet, 1.3k, M), this gorgeously sad canon-compliant alice & neville (gaps, 300, G), and every single one of nan’s summer femslash double drabbles!

-#-

covered in your ivy by @girl-with-goats (1.5k, M).

smutty BDSM remus/lily with planty metaphors that just work so well for this pairing!

-#-

I Always Underestimate You by @patriceavril (10k, M).

sirius & lily friendship! multi-era, canon compliant, sirius/mary and jily. i love the way patrice characterizes this friendship -- it’s not always easy, and that’s why it feels so earned!

-#-

Madam Smith by @lumosatnight (200 words, G). HOKEY/WINKY! SO charming and sweet and lovely and fluffy.

A Bleak Midwinter by @bluesundaycake (500, T). A Fenrir Greyback character study. feel sorry for baby fenrir thank you bye <3

Pray by @krethes (300, T). A Hope Lupin character study. yes hello hi read and CRY WITH ME

The Prince's Poems by @inmyownlittlecorner5. seven poems, misc formats. this author writes the most enthralling snape, and making it poetry is just !!! unfair. such powerful writing in so few words.

#my fic recs #harry potter fanfiction #hp fics #fic rec list #hp rare pairs

123 notes · View notes

irrealisms · 2 years ago

Text

c!wilbur + change, and the lack of it

Dream Revives Tommy - TommyVODS // You or Your Memory - The Mountain Goats // The Year I Get it Right - Brook Pridemore // Amends - Eve Tushnet // all i ever wanted was [Wilbur animatic] - WolfyTheWitch // When I Say That Loving Me Is Kind Of Like Being A Chicago Bulls Fan - Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib // Long-Exposure Photography - Google and Wikipedia // Meet the latest resurrected gentleman of L'manburg - Wilbur Soot VOD // Try to Change - Mother Mother // Night in the Woods // A Deck of Cards with a Green Smile on them - Wilbur Soot VOD // Defining Me - Motherfolk // MAG147 - Weaver // Better in the Morning - Birdtalker // happy bday c!wilbur. you havent changed but i bet you wish you did by @yuker-deactivated

[IDs under cut]

Image 1: WILBUR [I know what I’m like.] TOMMY Huh? WILBUR I know what I’m like. That’s the issue.

Image 2: As clear as day, Lord, if I make it through tonight Then I will mend my ways And walk the straight path to the end of my days

Image 3: A drawing using the YCGMA color palette of Wilbur silhouetted against a background of buildings and rubble. The closed captions read “Am I right back where I started fourteen years ago?”

Image 4: WHEN I SAY THAT LOVING ME IS KIND OF LIKE BEING A CHICAGO BULLS FAN what I mean is that my father can tell a bunch of cool stories about back in the day when I was truly great. there is a mountain of gold that has gathered dust in the corner where I used to sleep, and look at all of these pictures. in this one, I am wearing rainbow shorts and hurling rocks at a shoreline. in this one, I am smiling in the glow of 13 lit candles pushed into a sheet of dark sugar. you may ask why I allow my face to drown in less and less joy with each passing year and I will say I just woke up one day and I was a still photo in everyone else’s home but my own. or I will say I promise that my legs just need another season, and then I will be who you fell in love with again. and then I will probably just say I’m sorry that there was once a tremendous blue sky and then a decade of hard, incessant rain.

Image 5: A screenshot of the google result for long-exposure photography. There are four examples and then a blurb of text reading: Long-exposure, time-exposure, or slow-shutter photography involves using a long-duration shutter speed to sharply capture the stationary elements of images while blurring, smearing, or obscuring the moving elements. Wikipedia

Image 6: WILBUR But now, man, now, thirteen years later? I- it’s like I came full circle. I’m a new man, I’m a fresh face. Isn’t that right, Tommy? TOMMY sighs Will, I- you…

Image 7: [Verse 1] Try to change, I try to change I make a list of all the ways to change my ways But I stay the same, I stay the same, oh I will try and try to change, but I just stay the same

Images 8 and 9: Screenshots from the game Night in the Woods. Mae, an anthropomorphic cat, is asleep in bed, and Bea, an anthropomorphic crocodile, is tucking her in. Bea says "I stayed here and got older while you went off and stayed the same."

Image 10: WILBUR No, you’ve got- you’ve got it all wrong. You’ve got it all wrong, man, like- like, okay, okay. Maybe- maybe I was unpredictable in the past, but- TOMMY [It’s really nice… ] WILBUR -I’ve turned over a new leaf, Quackity! I don’t lie anymore, I don’t- QUACKITY [Really…?] WILBUR I don’t, you know, I don’t deceive… I don’t, I don’t I- I know nothing about TNT anymore! I’ve forgotten everything I knew about TNT! It- it’s ridiculous, I- QUACKITY Everything?

Image 11: On the precipice of nothing new Fell into question all I held as truth It seems there's holes in all my fairy tales Despite my passion to preach them well

A yell hushed after many long worn years Not a failure to launch, but to persevere Being one so close to write upon my heart A testament I've since torn apart

Image 12: What I’ve been doing to these people, it – it hasn’t been because I was puppeted, or controlled, or possessed. I wanted to do it. It felt good. But at least I know I can stop; I just – don’t know how. I – (he sighs) I don’t – want to stop. (ugh) Goddamn, this one really took it out of me. I need to go lie down. (uh) End recording.

Image 13: Stuck inside a cycle of opinions Where there's two clear ways And I always take the easy one And I'm always left with the taste in my mouth I will do better in the morning

Image 14: a comic by Yuker:

Tommy: You said “I’ve died once and I don’t want to die again.” That you’ve changed. But that was a fucking lie, wasn’t it?

Wilbur: You’re over-reacting, Tommy.”

[Wilbur hesitates putting out a cigarette, and then raises it to his mouth instead.]

Wilbur: Goddamnit.

[Wilbur sitting alone on a bench, lighting a cigarette.]

Wilbur: I don’t think I have changed after all. Fuck.

#mcyt #dsmp #wilbur soot #c!wilbur #wilbur #dream smp #web weave #web weaving #would you still love me if i reused web weave elements. too bad did it already

134 notes · View notes

devilsprophet · 8 days ago

Text

Since it's on my mind, actually— verses and their musical counterparts:

FATE DECIDES ALL — This verse takes place either right before or during the events of Age of Calamity.

Deep in the woods there was a fire That burned with an evil desire Desire to feed on the pain A flame that would never retire A pyre that would drive you insane And it said…

Why don’t you cast yourself on me? I promise you won’t feel a thing There’s golden treasures underneath, you’ll see Now please, give yourself to me

GLITTER AND GOLD — During the years between Astor becoming the leader of the Cult of Ganon and meeting the Yiga Clan. Astor is focused on gaining allies and building a treasury for the future demon king. Astor is in his mid-20's to 34.

I am flesh and I am bone Rise up, ting ting, like glitter and gold I've got fire in my soul Rise up, ting ting, like glitter

'Cause everybody in the back room's Spinning up Don't remember what you're asking for And everybody's in the front room's Tripping out You left your bottle at the door

NEVER BEEN SATISIFED — Astor has recently joined the Cult of Ganon and is navigating his newfound abilities while attempting to earn his place and climb the cult's ranks.

You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied

I'm sure I don't know what you mean You forget yourself

You're like me, I'm never satisfied Is that right? I have never been satisfied

THE FARM BOY — This takes place during Astor's youth from childhood to 19 years old.

Today I died Somewhere up in the sky I lost My mind And now I'm not quite right Ooo I lost a lot tonight Ooo Somewhere up in the sky

Today I drew So far outside the line Out of Control So, this is me untied

DYNASTIES AND DYSTOPIA — An AU in which Astor is successful in reviving Calamity Ganon, which then leads to the resurrection of Lord Ganon, the Gerudo King. Astor remains his right-hand man as they shape a new world of darkness.

In this gothic underground city We all sin If I bring a couple rounds with me Then we all win I came back and brought the crown with me The king's den Break your nexus and your neck 'cause Everybody's on your head

Underground utopia, dynasties and dystopia Fear is never a option, so dying's not a real phobia I'm beating the odds Rising to every occasion as if I defeated the gods Switch up the mod Nothing but champions comin' up rolled in one little squad

SPLINTERED BRANCH — Various AU verses for other worlds/series.

I am the prophet with the answers you seek Time, I've unlocked it I see past and future running free

I see a song of past romance I see the sacrifice of man I see portrayals of betrayal And a brother's final stand I see you on the brink of death I see you draw your final breath

SO GREEDY — A modern AU in which Astor owns and operates a chain of casinos in addition to various black-market dealings.

Welcome to my casino, lads Are you down for a deal tonight? Let's see if the luck is in your hands If you're ready, come on and roll the dice (Snake eyes) Beg on your knees, you can't flee Bring those contracts to me (Bring those contracts to him)

Pay with their souls or you'll pay with your head Try to escape me and you'll end up dead You can't complain now 'cause that's what you get (That's what you get) That's what you get (That's what you get) For being greedy

#Defining Melodies (music)#long post cw

3 notes · View notes

starshower1215 · 11 months ago

Text

Blitzstone: "Would That I" Analysis

Suggested: Listen to "Would That I" by Hozier before reading. Before once to appreciate the beauty of the song itself, afterwards once to appreciate the resemblance of Blitzen and Hearthstone in its lyrics.

Recap: "Would That I" is (probably) a metaphor for current love vs. past love. Hozier represents his past lover to a forest, says it is true that he saw her as beautiful, but falls in love with the fire, which with its "hand of gold/lay[s] waste to [his] loving long ago." He writes that it is "True that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me" but "it's not tonight/Where I'm set alight," meaning that in the light of his new love, his heartbreak is no more.

Essentially, this could also represent the pain that is overshadowed by current love. The first verse, which compares a past lover to a forest, is a lovehate relationship. While Blitzen hates Nidavellir, it is his home, and it is "True that [he] saw her like the branch of a tree." While Hearthstone hates Alderman, he is his father, and it is true that he loves him.

Then, "True that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me" is the ache of rejection in childhood. "That the sound of the saw must be known by the tree" means that they had desert the pain and, taking notice of the word must, it shows that they had no choice. "I fretted fire but that was long ago" is the fear they had felt to have hope (symbolized by fire, also). In a hopeless world, hope is both a weakness and a weapon, one they had not learned yet to wield, but older now, they regard it as an old friend.

But, after years of knowing each other, "it's not tonight/Where I'm set alight/And I blink in the sight/Of your blinding light...Where you hold me tight." They keep one another safe from the pain, wrapped in each other's love like a shield.

Second verse: "With the roar of the fire, my heart rose to its feet." When they first encountered one another, they saved each other, breathed hope into their lungs and brought the other's soul back to life. "I fell in love with the fire long ago" is a bit trickier, though it is interpreted as the immediate click the two had with one another. Though this meeting was their first, it feels like a reunion between two old friends.

"Watching still living roots be consumed by the flame/I was fixed on your hand of gold/Laying waste to my lovin' long ago." It is still, to present day, that they protect each other. The roots of their pasts are still alive, deeply embedded in their very core, but they pay only mind to that hand of gold that heals by destroying.

The chorus comes again, and they wish to "Light the fire bright/Oh, let it blaze, alright, honey."

And the beautiful bridge, which is so much softer than the rest of the song, is their love and devotion for one another. "Long as amber of the ember glows/All the "Would that I'd loved" is long ago." It says, "For as long as you live, I choose you."

Extra notes about the symbolism:

The trees provide shade from the harsh light of the sun, and kept the boys safe from its scorch. But at the same time, it kept them cold out of the warmth of its light. Alternatively, the fire holds a home of warmth, forming a juxtaposition for the two symbols.

From the line "Still living roots be consumed by the flame..." the forest will continue to grow, if remained unnurtured. The roots still live, but like cauterization, the fire stumps the growth of the tree, or the growth of that pain.

To start a fire, one needs wood. To get the wood, cut down the tree. Their love, like any love, and no matter how strong, will not survive without that sacrifice, and they both choose one another every time.

The softness of the music during the verses greatly contrasts with the sudden volume of the chorus, which audibly conveys the overshadowing of the forest in the fire's all-consuming wake.

#magnus chase and the gods of asgard #blitzen #hearthstone #blitzen freyason #blitzen mcga #blitzstone #hearthstone alderman #hearthstone mcga #magnus chase #blitz x hearth #magnus chase and the ship of the dead #magnus chase and the hammer of thor #magnus chase and the sword of summer #referring to them as the boys reminds me painfully of Lord of the Flies

11 notes · View notes

cragsnow · 3 months ago

Text

thoughts of sleep are now pushed firmly from his mind, and though he knows that the inevitable crash will come at some point, he actually somewhat welcomes it. a rest like that — if it can even be called a rest — often comes without nightmares, just a steady and brief darkness that precedes a reluctant wake-up. it's not the ideal way for him to get some sleep, but it's become a pattern of behaviour that he's begun to rely on in order to stay somewhat functioning. so in a way, though aksel had been trying to help him drift off, keeping him awake works very much in felix's favour too.

‘ well, sounds like that was the second bush you found to hide in that day, ’ he says with a grin, as he props himself up onto his elbow, head resting comfortably in his palm. may as well get a little bit more comfortable himself if it's story time. ‘ did you see her again after that? or did the threat of her father just completely kill that relationship? ’ what surprises him when he asks this question is the small burn of jealous heat that begins to flare up deep in his chest. it's as though the idea that aksel had seen this girl more than once, regardless of the fact that it's entirely in the past and probably won't happen again, isn't tolerable for him. a part of him wishes he hadn't bothered to ask, but he'd rather battle through a small bout of jealousy than be seen as uninterested in what his companion has to say.

His intention had been to help Felix fall asleep. He'd hoped his little stories, though they had no real point to them asides from his ability to make an arse of himself, would help the other drift off as he rambled on about significant little details. The first attempt had clearly been a failure on his part - though he couldn't deny being a little pleased he'd managed to keep his attention for a while longer.

" More than what I have told you already? " A brow raises on his expression as he looks at Felix, there's a slight smirk in his smile - it tugs at his lips as he gets himself more comfortable. He'd intended to leave the other in peace once asleep but maybe he didn't have to go anywhere. " It is not all my fault. She came to pick something up for her father a few times, we flirted a little and then one thing led to another. He showed up to find her when she did not come home the same night. " He shrugged his shoulders. " My neighbours got a little more than there usual breakfast that morning when I was chased up the street. He nearly shot me! Luckily I found a bush to hide in. "

#OATHFCRGED. 004 #VERSE. MEET ME IN THE WOODS TONIGHT #ooooh he's jealoooous

5 notes · View notes

a-muscle-the-size-of-your-fist · 2 months ago

Text

TAGS LIST

MAIN BLOG TAGS

Mr. Meek Speaks (OOC)

Yeah Okay Well Here's The Twist (Answered Asks)

Let Me See You Stripped Down To The Bone (Submissions)

Sometimes The Only Way Out Is As A Carcass (Memes)

Perfectin’ My Passion Thanks For Askin’ (Headcanon Memes)

Live In Dog Years And I Feel Twenty-Six Yeah I’m Old Bitch But I Learn New Tricks (Munday Meme)

I’m Key Look At Me! (Self Promo.)

What Do We Have Here? (Promo.)

NSFW Tag - (NSFScreamQueens)

I'll Meet Queue Underneath The Moon; Haunt Me Tonight

---

ABOUT ➽➽➽

AESTHETIC ➽➽➽

CLOSET ➽➽➽

HEADCANONS ➽➽➽

IC POST ➽➽➽

INTERESTS ➽➽➽

MUSINGS ➽➽➽

PLAYLIST ➽➽➽

SHIPPIING ➽➽➽

VERSE ➽➽➽

VISAGE ➽➽➽

BLOG INFO ➽➽➽

BLOG MAINTENANCE ➽➽➽

DASH COMMENTARY ➽➽➽

DASH GAMES ➽➽➽

FEATURED MUSE ➽➽➽

INBOX CALL ➽➽➽

MAGIC ANON ➽➽➽

MUSE LIST ➽➽➽

MY ART ➽➽➽

MY WRITING ➽➽➽

OPEN STARTER ➽➽➽

POLLS ➽➽➽

PSA ➽➽➽

SHIPPING CALL ➽➽➽

STARTER CALL ➽➽➽

TAGS LIST ➽➽➽

TO DO LIST ➽➽➽

TYPE BINGO ➽➽➽

CHARACTER TAGS - ALL MUSES

Your Heart Is A Muscle The Size Of Your Fist; So Keep On Lovin'; Keep On Fightin' (𝔸𝕝𝕝 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕤)

I Heard A Scream In The Woods Somewhere (𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕣 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕔𝕙 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕤)

Some People Are Just Born With Tragedy In Their Blood (𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕤)

There Are Devils To Slay And Dragons To Ride; If They See You Coming; Hell They Better Hide (𝕀ℕ𝕊𝕀𝔻𝕀𝕆𝕌𝕊 𝕄𝕌𝕊𝔼𝕊)

We Twist In Torment And Make-Believe; There's A Truth And We All Submit (ℙ𝕠𝕡𝕡𝕪 ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕤)

I Never Thought I'd Live To See The Dead Walk (ℝ𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝔼𝕧𝕚𝕝 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕤)

So How Did You Learn To Be Sick; So Cunning? It's Easy To Sing But You Just Keep On Humming Along (𝕊𝕒𝕨 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕤)

Serial Killers Know How To Party (𝕊ℍℝ𝕆𝕆𝕄𝕊 𝕄𝕌𝕊𝔼𝕊)

Don't Make A Sound; They're Not Dead; Just Sleeping (𝕊𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥 ℍ𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕤)

Why Must I Digest You When Every Single Bite I Take Gives Me Chronic Stomach Ache? (𝕋𝕖𝕩𝕒𝕤 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕒𝕨 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕔𝕣𝕖 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕤)

Mirror My Melody; Transfer My Tragedy; Got A Curse I Cannot Lift (𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℚ𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕤)

I Can Be the Monster; I Can Be The Teeth Sunk In Your Skin (𝕌𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕝 𝔻𝕒𝕨𝕟 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕤)

CHARACTER TAGS - SINGLES

I'm Not A Good Person Ask Anyone Who Knows Me; I'm Mean And Bitter And A Failure (𝔸𝕕𝕒𝕞)

And When She Walks All The Wind Blows And The Angels Sing (𝔸𝕤𝕙𝕝𝕖𝕪)

I Want To Ride My Bicycle I Want To Ride My Bike (𝔹𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕪)

I Will Battle For The Sun And I Won’t Stop Until I’m Done (𝔹𝕠𝕓𝕓𝕪)

It Skulks Around In The Shadows Watching Me; It's Waiting! It's Torturing Me By Waiting! (ℂ𝕒𝕥ℕ𝕒𝕡)

I Might Be The Villain In Somebody Else's Story But That's Fine (ℂ𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕒)

Kill Me I’m A Monster I Beg You Now ‘Cause I’m Not A Killer (ℂℍ𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥𝕥)

Hey There; I Know It's Hard To Feel Like I Don't Care At All (ℂ𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕝)

My Life Is Like A Video Game Trying Hard To Beat The Stage (ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤)

Fingers Blistered From The Nightly Scratching At The Window Which Won't Open Far Enough To Let Air In (ℂ𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕪)

I'm Beginning To Lull Myself Into A False Security 'Cause It's Easier To Lie To Yourself Than To Face Reality (𝔻𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕕)

Do You Feel Okay? You Look Pretty Low; Very Handsome Awkward (𝔻𝕪𝕝𝕒𝕟)

And Everyone Tells You You’re Better; They Beg And Plead And Scream That You’re Better; But You Could Never Be Better Than You (𝔼𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕤)

I Can Hold The Weight Of Worlds If That's What You Need; Be Your Everything (𝔼𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟)

Why Are People Always Hating On Me? Hmm Must Be ‘Cause I’m Really Good Looking (𝔽𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕖)

They Won’t Like What I Say I Force It Out Too Corrupt They Hate Me Anyway (𝕀𝕒𝕟)

Don’t Let Me In With No Intention To Keep Me; Jesus Christ; Don't Be Kind To Me; Honey Don't Feed Me; I Will Come Back (𝕁𝕒𝕔𝕠𝕓)

Oh; He's Sweet But A Psycho; A Little Bit Psycho (𝕁𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕤)

I'm Bigger Than My Body; I'm Colder Than This Home; I'm Meaner Than My Demons; I'm Bigger Than These Bones (𝕁𝕖𝕤𝕤)

And Then My Eyes Got Used To The Darkness And Everyone That I Knew Was Lost And So Long Forgotten (𝕃𝕒𝕟𝕖)

The Rhythm Of Rebellion From The Rattle In Your Bones; A Sonic Liberation; Salvation In Your Headphones (𝕃𝕒𝕣𝕜)

You Look At Me But You Don't See; Understand I'm A Sinner; Don't Corner Me; Don't Lecture Me (𝕃𝕠𝕘𝕒𝕟)

You're Looking Good But You're Feeling The Pressure (𝕃𝕦𝕚𝕤)

The Tide Is Rising High; It's Sink Or Swim; It's Hit Or Miss; What Will You Pick? (𝕃𝕪𝕟𝕟)

I Cut My Tongue On The Rust Of A Silver Spoon (𝕄𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕜)

When My Time Comes Around Lay Me Gently In The Cold Dark Earth; No Grave Can Hold My Body Down (𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕥)

I Never Knew You Could Hold Moonlight In Your Hands Until The Night I Held You (𝕄𝕒𝕩)

He Was In The Habit Of Taking Things For Granted; Granted There Wasn't Much For Him To Take (𝕄𝕚𝕜𝕖)

I've Had To Work Much Harder Than This For Something I Want; Don't Try To Resist Me (𝕄𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕦)

Staying Up Until The Morning I Wish I Was More Discerning (𝕆𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕒)

What Doesn't Kill You Will Make You A Killer (ℙ𝕖𝕥𝕖)

Of Course I Get Manic When I Cause A Panic (ℙ𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕣)

Oh My Yeah I Get So High I Can’t Think Sometimes I Try And Drown In My Drink (ℝ𝕠𝕣𝕪)

If I Wasn't A Narcissist I Wouldn't Like Me Either (𝕊𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕥)

I Hope I Become A Ghost And Make Sure The Future Turns Out Fine (𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕤)

You'll Learn Right Now I Don't Play Nice And If You Hurt Me Once I'll Kill You Twice (𝕋𝕒𝕣𝕒)

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby; Nothing’s Gonna Take You From My Side (𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕤)

I Feel So Bad I Got A Worried Mind; I'm So Lonesome All The Time (ℤ𝕠𝕖)

PET TAGS

If You Want Me To Wait I Will Wait For You; If You Tell Me To Stay I Would Stay Right Through (𝔹𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕥)

I Guess I'm Waiting For Nightfall Or A Solar Eclipse (𝔻𝕦𝕜𝕖)

Here Come The Wolves; They're Coming To Get You (𝕎𝕠𝕝𝕗𝕚𝕖)

VERSE TAGS

V: Don't Scream Your Story's Marred With Bad Intentions - Main Verse - Canon events have happened unless previously discussed. Dead muses can be interacted with as ghosts/zombies or in flashbacks. Note: Adam is dead for this AU.

V: Just Let The Sun In; It's Love! - Everything Is Fine And Nothing Hurts Verse - No canon events have happened. Typically a modern AU unless there's a specified time period in the media.

V: Everything Is Alright; Yeah Tell Me That You're Alright - Post-Canon Fix-It Verse - All canon events happened but Something happened to rewind things. All dead characters are alive again and are okay. They have scars from their deaths, however.

V: Smile For The Camera But Don't Flash Your Teeth - Werepire Verse 1 - Please see muse list for Werepire species of each muse - A verse in which supernatural creatures are real and people know about them. They are integrated into society like normal people for the most part.

V: I Could Be Honest; I Could Be Human; I Could Become The Silver Bullet In Your Head - Werepire Verse 2 - Please see muse list for Werepire species of each muse - A verse in which supernatural creatures are real and they are not widely known by the general public. They must hide themselves and present human as much as they can, and many do by means of magic.

V: The Smell Of Flowers Was So Thick And Sickly Sweet I Felt Like I Might Choke To Death - Hanahaki Verse - Please see muse list for the flowers that they cough up in the verse. UNDER CONSTRUCTION - A verse in which unrequited love leads to the coughing up of flower petals. It can be fatal if the infected person does not get the surgery to remove them or confess and have those feelings returned.

Blair Witch Verses

V: And Everybody Says They Know Better; And Maybe They’re Right - Non-Blair Witch AU - Ellis didn’t go to the forest to look for Peter because Bullet got sick after stealing a piece of pizza with onion on it. He made it because Ellis took him to the vet immediately, but he missed going to the search party. Lane and Talia never went with the group to the woods because of Lane's father interfering and making them late.

V: I Still Felt Real Depressed But I've Got Plenty Of Other Things To Spend My Time - Fix-It AU - Ellis reasons with the witch and manages to undo a lot of the damage to those he cared about. As long as they remain in Black Hills Forest, he is allowed to have Emmett and Carver around. He spends a lot of time with them and calls Jess whenever he has a signal. Lane does not become possessed due to Ellis' relationship to the Witch. She takes pity on him, but cannot let him go, so he remains with Ellis and the others.

V: Sometimes The Short End Of The Stick Is The Sharpest - Becoming Carver AU - Ellis destroyed all of the witch's sigils and eventually became Carver. He is a gentler Carver and is still depressed and guilty. He hates what he's done and craves death much of the time. All he wants is his freedom.

V: Hey Would It Be So Bad If I Stayed? I'm Just A Ghost Out Of His Grave - Ghost!Ellis AU - As a ghost, Ellis haunts the woods and the surrounding area. He is joined by the other dead in the forest and is often subjected to the witch's desires and whims. He spends a lot of time with her and the other ghosts in the forest.

Final Destination Verses

Insidious Verses

Resident Evil Verses

V: I Wanna Start From The Top Maybe Like A Do-Over - Patch Notes AU - Post-canon Fix-It AU. Nobody stayed dead, nothing hurts, and everything is fine.

Saw Verses

Silent Hill Verses

The Quarry Verses

Until Dawn Verses

EVENT TAGS

None At This Time

ON-BLOG & TAGS

I'll Build A New House In Every Town I Pass Maybe Then I Won't Always Feel Lost And Trapped (Adam & Peter)

All You Need Is Just Some Good Fxcking Music You Can Headbang To (Adam & Scott)

A Woman's Voice; I Quickly Ran; Into The Trees With Empty Hands (Ellis & Lane)

I Am Aware That You Are All Assholes; Who The Hell Cares About All Of That Though? (Lark & Scott)

And He Tells Me He's Sick And He's All Alone (Logan & David)

Me Without You Ain't Right (Mike & Jess)

ON-BLOG SHIP TAGS

We Creep About The Floor To Indulge Like Rats (Adam ♡ Lark)

A Mí Ne Gusta Que Me Digan Poesía; Al Oído Por La Noche Cuando Hacemos Groserías (Ashley ♡ Luis)

Eres Una Obra De Arte; Con Solo Mirarte; Algo Que Da Paz (Luis ♡ Ashley)

He Doesn't Know What He Deserves But He Still Falls So Hard It Hurts (David ♡ Logan)

You're A Lesson That I Wish I'd Never Learned So Well (Lark ♡ Scott)

I Shouldn't Have Fallen In Love; Look What It Made Me Become (Logan ♡ David)

I Just Wanna Feel Alive And I Do When I’m With You (Mike ♡ Jess)

Combat Baby; Come Back Baby; Fight Off The Lethargy; Don't Go Quietly (Scott ♡ Adam)

I'm Too Sweet To Be Salty About It; Too Sour To Be Happy Without It (Scott ♡ Lark)

& TAGS (SPECIFIC)

& Tags With @lovely-cadavers

Frown Gets Her Way Like Every Step To The Daylight Keeps You Stumbling On (Ashley & Leon - lovely-cadavers)

Have You Ever Been Close To Tragedy Or Been Close To Folks Who Have? (Clancy & Jack - lovely-cadavers)

I've Never Had To Knock On Wood; But I Know Someone Who Has; Which Makes Me Wonder If I Could (Clancy & Lucas - lovely-cadavers)

I Got These Terrible Dreams Where I Do Terrible Things; I Don't Want To Believe It's You I Am Doing Them To (Ethan & Jack - lovely-cadavers)

Oh; Now You Are A Handful; I Forgot About Handfuls (Ethan & Karl - lovely-cadavers)

I Got The Devil In The Details And He's Gonna Teach Me Wrong From Right (Ethan & Lucas - lovely-cadavers)

I Just Wanted To Protect You; But Now I'll Never Get To (Ethan & Rose - lovely-cadavers)

Come Back To Me A While; Change Your Taste In Men (Luis & Leon - lovely-cadavers)

Say What You Want And What You Want Is Behind Your Teeth (Moreau & Alcina - lovely-cadavers)

They Tell Me That You're Lonely; It's No Surprise When You Walk Around All Day Wearing Those Lonely Eyes (Moreau & Donna - lovely-cadavers)

I'll Be Just Fine Pretending I'm Not; I'm Far From Lonely And It's All That I've Got (Moreau & Karl - lovely-cadavers)

Stronger Folks You Could Not Find; They Ain't Afraid To Speak Their Minds (Zoe & Jack)

'Cause At Night; The Sun In Retreat; Made The Skyline Look Like Crooked Teeth (Zoe & Lucas - lovely-cadavers)

& Tags With @inthepines-inthepines

Can't You See Me? You And I We Are The Same (Ellis & Carver - inthepines-inthepines)

But On The One Day They Close Early; That's The One You Want To Stay (Ellis & Emmett - inthepines-inthepines)

But Please Don't Give Up Dear Walls; Don't Let The Ceiling Fall (Ellis & Jess - inthepines-inthepines)

& Tags With @but-ive-been-called-worse

It Feels Like We're Dying But Baby We're Doing Just Fine (Adam & Amanda - but-ive-been-called-worse)

You'll Never Hear This Song; You'll Never See The Movie In My Head (Adam & Lawrence - but-ive-been-called-worse)

Forget Everything You Think You Knew Of Who I Used To Be I Look Much Better As The Enemy (Cecilia & Amanda - but-ive-been-called-worse)

Pretty Boy Don't Speak; You Pretty Boys Are Only Good For One Thing (Mallick & Brit - but-ive-been-called-worse)

Float Like A Butterfly Sting Like A Killer (Peter & Amanda - but-ive-been-called-worse)

The Saint Charade Is Over Plastic Royalty Exposed (Peter & Lawrence - but-ive-been-called-worse)

People Like You Are Why People Like Me Exist (Peter & Mark - but-ive-been-called-worse)

You're Something To Die For But Don't Hold Your Breath Now; You're Just Killing Time (Peter & Lindsey - but-ive-been-called-worse)

& Tags With [Placeholder]

Here We Are Just About The Same; Foggy Little Feline; Drowsy Little Dog (CatNap & DogDay - Placeholder)

& Tags With @21xpickup

I Died So I Could Have You; I Died So I Could Haunt You (Clancy & Lucas - 21xpickup)

I've Got Friends In All The Right Places; I Know What They Want And I Know They Don't Want Me To Stay (Ethan & Lucas - 21xpickup)

They're Hiding Their Faces; Their Smiles Can Break The Heart In Two (Zoe & Lucas - 21xpickup)

& Tags With @emilesmuseassembly

Don't You Want To Get Matching Necklaces? Each Of Us Can Wear One Half Of The Heart (Jess & Matt - emilesmuseassembly)

The Only Thing Constant Was The Constant Reminder He'd Never Change (Mike & Matt - emilesmuseassembly)

& Tags With @trapped-twins

Don't Look So Down And Out; Built Your House You Burned It Down (Logan & David - trapped-twins)

Everybody Said Uh-Oh; Let's Go; Here Comes Trouble But Trouble Does Come In Threes (Specs & Adam & David)

What If There's Nothing More To Me? I'm Just Skin And Bones; There's No Mystery? (Specs & Adam - trapped-twins)

The Bright Ideas Always Get Lost Along The Way (Specs & David - trapped-twins)

& Tags With @wr4th-of-the-gods

Stay Right Here; We Can Change Our Plight; Storming Through This Despite What's Right (Chell & Stacy - wr4th-of-the-gods)

& Tags With @homelander-rp-blog

You Got A Reaction Didn't You? You Took A White Orchid Turned It Blue (Clancy & Homelander - homelander-rp-blog)

They Cannot Steal The Light That Shines From Who You Once Were (Ethan & Homelander - homelander-rp-blog)

& Tags With @thxwxlf

I'mma Shake You Off Though; Get Up On That Horse And Ride Into The Sunset; Look Back With No Remorse (Bobby & Kekipi - thxwxlf)

I've Got An Animal Inside Of Me; I'm Getting Sick Sick Sick Of Pushing It Down (CHackett & Kekipi - thxwxlf)

& Tags With @suniside-crossing

Don't Be Scared My Friend; Death Is A Beginning Not An End (CatNap & DogDay - suniside-crossing)

& Tags With @riggedtraps

Put Your Fist Up If You Wanna Do Something; Make Your Mind Up If You Wanna Do Something (Logan & Amanda - riggedtraps)

& Tags With @dollhidden

Strutting Through The City; Her Heart Has Got No Pity For You (Ethan & Alcina - dollhidden)

Tragedy Comes In Threes; Third Degree Apathy (Ethan & Bela - dollhidden)

I Need You To Hurt Me; I Need You To Fight Me; I Need You To Kill Me; I Need You To Destroy Me (Ethan & Cassandra - dollhidden)

It's Not That I'm So Unprepared; It's Just You'd Think I'd Grow Out Of This; Wouldn't You? (Ethan & Daniela - dollhidden)

& Tags With @twinklefairy-dust

Is It Wrong There's A Song That Is Called Barracuda? There Is None That Is Named After You! (Moreau & Jazmin - twinklefairy-dust)

SHIPPING TAGS (SPECIFIC)

Ship Tags With @lovely-cadavers

'Cause I'm In Too Deep And I'm Trying To Keep Up Above In My Head Instead Of Going Under (Clancy ♡ Lucas - lovely-cadavers)

If You Rise Again Take A Form I Know (Ethan ♡ Jack - lovely-cadavers)

Baby; No One's Honest Anymore But We Could Be Different (Ethan ♡ Karl - lovely-cadavers)

No Te Vayas Quédate (Luis ♡ Leon - lovely-cadavers)

Ship Tags With @inthepines-inthepines

Somebody Somewhere Will Clean Out Your Wounds With Dirty Fingers (Ellis ♡ Carver - inthepines-inthepines)

If You Need A Little Sunshine You Can Borrow Some Of Mine (Ellis ♡ Emmett - inthepines-inthepines)

Seems Like We've Waited Long Enough For Someone Else To Make Us Feel Complete (Ellis ♡ Jess - inthepines-inthepines)

Ship Tags With @but-ive-been-called-worse

I Need Love So Someone Bring Me A Photographer (Adam ♡ Lawrence - but-ive-been-called-worse)

'Cause When I Mess Up You Never Give Up Your Love; Yeah I'm A Fuck-Up But You Swear I'm Enough (Mallick ♡ Brit - but-ive-been-called-worse)

I'll Fill The Graveyards Until I Have You (Peter ♡ Mark - but-ive-been-called-worse)

Shipping Tags With [Placeholder]

I'm Daydreamin' With My Chin In The Palm Of My Hands; About You And Only You (CatNap ♡ DogDay - placeholder)

Ship Tags With @trapped-twins

I'll Be Your Lucky Star If You Promise That You'll Never Let Me Go (Logan ♡ David - trapped-twins)

Ship Tags With @suniside-crossing

I've Grown A Mouth So Sharp And Cruel; It's All That I Can Give To You My Dear (CatNap ♡ DogDay - suniside-crossing)

#BLOG INFO ➽➽➽#TAGS LIST ➽➽➽#Long Post #cw long post

2 notes · View notes

velvet-cupcake-games · 2 years ago

Text

An Indigo Girls Song for Every Romance

Welcome to Becky's late-night self-indulgent character-related Tumblr posting! The Indigo Girls is one of my all-time favourite groups, and they have written so many wonderful songs about the amazing, messy thing called love (love of many kinds, but we're focused on the romantic variety here).

So I'm finding an Indigo Girls song for every romance in Made Marion. (This is the love interests in relation to Marion.) With the particularly pertinent lyrics below it.

Hope you'll get some thoughts about the romances and hear some amazing music! I even provided a teensy scrap of Mystery Love Interest!

Robin: She's Saving Me

youtube

Robin's PoV:

She's saving me I don't even think she knows it Such a strange way to show it as distant as Last nights dream unravels She's saving me I'm a very lost soul I was born with a hole in my heart The size of my land locked travels

John: Keeper of My Heart

John's PoV:

youtube

Some things I hold too tightly Some things I'll never I'll never touch Oh but I'm wearing down the stones In the river And you see all my life I've painted with anger's brush

For you Lift me through my love and anger You see now these are my gods These are your scars Lift me through my love and anger Oh and my arms are burning And they're open wide

Pointing out the graveyards I will be the reaper If you will be The keeper of my heart

Will and Gui: Mystery

youtube

Will's segment (Marion's PoV):

But you like the taste of danger It shines like sugar on your lips And you like to stand in the line of fire Just to show you can shoot straight from you hip There must be a 1000 things you would die for I can hardly think of two But not everything is better spoken aloud Not when I'm talking to you

Gui's segment (Either Character PoV):

Oh the pirate gets the ship and the girl tonight Breaks a bottle to christen her Basking in the exploits of her thief She's a very good listener Maybe that's all that we need Is to meet in the middle of impossibility We're standing at opposite poles Equal partners in a mystery

Meissa: Wood Song

youtube

Either Character PoV

Sometimes I ask to sneak a closer look Skip to the final chapter of the book And then maybe steer us clear from some of the pain it took To get us where we are this far yeah But the question drowns in it's futility And even I have got to laugh at me No one gets to miss the storm of what will be Just holding on for the ride

Alanna: Fugitive

Alanna's PoV:

We swore to ourselves we'd go to the end of the world But I got caught up in the whirl and the twirl of it all A day in the sun dancing alone Baby, I'm so sorry Now it's coming to you the lessons I've learned Won't do you any good you've got to get burned Well the curse and the blessing they're one in the same Baby, it's all such a treacherous gain

Hide yourself from me I said hide yourself from me All for me

Geoffrey: Strange Fire

(I associate the IG song Pushing the Needle Too Far with Geoff in general, but this is about the romance)

youtube

Both Characters, to Each Other: Geoff: First Verse Marion: Second Verse Both: Third Verse

Layton: Blood and Fire

youtube

Layton's PoV:

I am looking for someone who can Take as much as I give babe And give back as much as I need you know And they, they still have the will to live 'Cause I am intense, I am in need I am in pain, I am in love, but I feel forsaken You know like the things I, I gave away

And blood and fire are too much for these Restless arms to hold And my nights of desire They're calling me back to your fold And I am callin' you, callin' you From ten thousand miles away Would you whet my fire with your love? And it's babe, babe, babe

???: Secure Yourself

youtube

Marion's Pov:

In the ink of an eye I saw you bleed, Through the thunder I could hear you scream, Solid to the air I breathe, Open-eyed and fast asleep. Falling softly as the rain, No footsteps ringing in your ears. Ragged down worn to the skin Warrior raging, have no fear.

Secure yourself to heaven. Hold on tight, the night has come Fasten up your earthly burdens, You have just begun.

Bonus: Alvin: Least Complicated

(Marion's former lover who you'll meet in the prologue, in unrequited love with her, poor Alvin)

youtube

Alvin's Pov:

I sit two stories above the street It's awful quiet here since love fell asleep There's life down below me though The kids are walking home from school

Some long ago when we were taught That for whatever kind of puzzle you got You just stick the right formula in A solution for every fool

I remember the time when I came so close to you Sent me skipping my class and running from school And I bought you that ring 'cause I never was cool What makes me think I could start clean slated The hardest to learn was the least complicated

#made marion #aesthetic vibes #character development #Youtube

19 notes · View notes

libidomechanica · 6 months ago

Text

Watercress song, my wife, read this terrible

A curtal sonnet sequence

Unto the sorrowe, if thou wilt thou, to be, for my sable shame o’t, but left and deface in thee, wretched strangely: but, for constraine. Just twiddles its pure ablution rolled dry flame-lit plack the race if lowliness is not that rose his Bosom—lookin’ to me. While thy Gotes: tho creep these friend or save, i’m sure I? In lucent woe that all … he torrent out of love. With my wife, am I as the David, speak to her, none.

I turn to leaue to gie ane fash. Sweet fingers, when the kisses, when I pull away? Sometimes like slang. The was far away through all the street—why, soul there over throaty hummingbird sipping earth, you seest than my brethren twelue, than this sweet hours and smile as fawns forfeited? For Mercy, Pity, Peace, an’ mothers are design’d to pat the nuptial knot, Nor only sight, and tell tolling your wood; Unconstant species at my way. Belongs!

Come lips and waking brook no furthest friends let its become square of death, I wounded to master many a Jewel out? Can both are she stark, dishelmed and come it listening; and we let you know you were as eyes loose vnchastity, whose chere: before helpless you with canal or pilot the trembling slight laugh. Their names, she took it up, he quaff’d off to the Sun. And Philomel becoming. Bid that I have the pallid and take the night.

Of your couth swain, enough! Brothers love to hide true it takes thee. Now my stoop and act is one, he rode and ask me how this yearn and yet anon repairs of Almighty manhode brought, in your sweet than stockit mailens. Or I’d enter, if he changed, how wildly fancy to run; to be drest the heart of sleep but track me like the office; yet no one and there’ll behold a race, as his peer. Like a corner when labour is done.

A matter, paint soul, seems to the lost that I might thee, to welcomnesse. Her end.—One who breath bend; I seem to kissing his with us, brighten thou but this void was gone on earth: their than just to please, leaving the problem scrunch, can lend you are. The mattock- hardened lava. Close meet it, although Blanche had gotte thy lips of verse of this my love nor care for whom I lose that never mine with thy Remembrance! Sweet fawn to be chiefe, and keepe.

Stay, theyr weedes to know I’ll dance thou wilt say the spur that matter what the earth was faith of a fly; I hid my life a perfume like a bit of sence to move to live without my plume; and corrupted: or like a king, it’s the South, whole earth’s old and pinch’d in Beauty show! He showres. I never noble end, a son … You! Your carpet tonight, having kiddes to sip; sweet than in her may butter. Farther, all is ycladd with me.

And he than pairs of ecstasy expire. They sooner state I beheld my swords tas- ke, when their grace. Awhile mind to scorn what came to those feedes behind broken bounds. Touch was ill, till the way her father an’ mother cast to see, I neede not in a clout, for the Latin? Love sweet, wee dochter, the noble shroud! From before it not? Fingers, where to stored; nor thy voices instinct in individualities joined legs with thine eyes.

Each himself into the slave thou know I’m yoursels asunder; but, swoll’n with rivals or steering-wheel or touch the stands ready to see the Prophet David, you may bus- kets at hand or foe, showing old, the kitchen filled her mother’s pride and rekes much to hang upon that she flitting seen you would answered from whence drew higher mother I would they to forbear, and leave ere loth to fold, opening head, over note. Gem to kiss.

Will you, if her own palace was who does diddly. Are my Prison of You. For on a waver of knight light till the fool oursels asunder; and slip or fall. Whither lends not fly from red tape&to the sand, and she stopped all to say, mought our Cuddie can looked at her, your fruitful from God’s words, weep to see thee to thy father kissed and under inward from the tempest’s roar; and when I am talk—he picked the hid from head once pitie mee.

Should marry. Some night blue brand his Spirit in counsels deep chamber—nay, whilst my king in thy lips as we once more; till they that’s too very same, countings on the dore strife, we two must loves they bene men of Illusion becoming the flushed and guile, that high heavy sank and leaves, hand down, and Love, thy king, with a peak thy statute of Perfect harms distincts, breast; she bowed head doe not do as we mought that from Canaan: the Prior’s niece.

I saye as she be seen, be’st loth, she shore? With such famous in winter, sir, and thee thy soul. Translated, sometimes happier time, your soft fall like a fire, the king reeds, that bliss denies only remembered not praise throne of the Solway, but clamour, as well amends. The earth; she young, I’m kent the foolish I couldst stale down she is not so unkind t’ a beauties I fill, with you may aye inheritaunce, heaping vp waues be dear.

To her, give men, be’st loth, whose spotless for your tears by some parted, all unchange in the grant bow. Yellow my own nostrils, shy, in that climbs a drooping love to star, tho’ thy laden sky, and thyself without sense not why. And all or parting to the subtle Censor scrutinize. May-dew my futurity; then came this during nought it oft words of rabbit mouth with her home, that her side; nor yet did then shall as you, we have done.

Into marry yet; I’m o’er her honour’d of life,—so I, within that the buzzing once that yourself to me. Had it not Wit, then breath will sag if you’re lucky together the light, and call you returns—already in our sir Iohn, to nurse and every first with crabbed care I, who touch! In the length the worth to gie ane fash. And sways the moor look as ye were. Then shall in ways of love, as the earth as king: thaw this abject Impotence?

Then add soul with Love’s fresh air. She praise is then fox-kits come heavy load to do? Ah, what accounts me at me: from thee. The come bare of two disturb your dew. When your son, to severall Objects only the Kidde stood bye, all you, dear might dost invest, well which you can’t unlearn their treacher as he threaded Eagle sored hye, vpon mounted on to where, and serves in hys packe. Of foot and dress thereof to me, and stile and then thought come.

When ecstasy of celestial bower of metals twain the goodnesse call her for languor and stream shall thee! Go from the world— the best mood has died slave to try at is no long the bread that summer days, and Terebinth good reason, the genitals I feared to here. Today when you in every where I cannot die so. Star-shadow’d which her the Tast, meat dress too: I should sleep on the shrunk shuddering like plain English as she rose!

Hand devis’d, do their mistresses severall Objects light, oft till China and sinless alarm came to ye, my carrol lowde, and renewed, save heads cut off your strangers am I as the rose, leaving said, you’ll take thy shoes, no better melodious time I hunt his Anguish still remembered lady’s of their thou were left of the stroke, life. Then shall hell will tend our sighing else heart’s citadel to know no face, the lonely Hell.

Come to move that good. My fathers free adit; we will tend on the summer. We woo thee, that did he were flocke, and little wild! But say to counts me at mine: give me many thine ten times refigures did not mute she broom, take this I never be gives to pick up a man is insides are not mind and once more the congruity the Lesbian shore, and sleep one every grow; a heard her became that beauty won me, the sea.

No purple island-sides, and though. Till I ever yet their hand, like in a dream: then would be equivalentine, with what well know. I think you were dream, and rising out at the night. The lake: so fold, opening is. And tell that after sang her—let her heart, the nick, like supposing forth rancke, where no unwrought from you nothing between young Lycidas sunk so long entent. On her eyes my prayers divine in our entreaty stay!

Since said broken purple in thee stayed he were at morning wilt thou bitter place of orient, as belowe, these wonted so, good broader-grown through the foreground with your eye—tell your lov’d, and print those held sagest, and I know what your look-alike, both in every one swear against extinction; if we dare! Man of my boyling base: nothing the dropp’d not beare, and in their better, I am stuffing your skies, innumerable bees.

I look so brighten that in more esteem and plays his subject Impotence? Redundant persuade my love, like of her Burden ran upon that ought I; by no merrier bene, ylike a wee whither to a beer can beare ah Piers, but what act. Just now at reseeds it would reare this verses dight, and thou haste the world was Ida by things with please, let us type the faint respite till Cherry ripe themselves engraver sure I?

While with my mind the way to my bed the barren deeps in buoyancy afloat. Like curious spoil it, get beyond affected to laugh to send a recipe he’d met her shade, and untethered from me, not by my honour mother, he would be done? As killing arts, stops, started to tie her mouth will go by, not warmed by this means interest flourish’d sweet unrest, when Cyril said to make life a perfections I aim at.

With thou hast pass as though he trip and deface in this sense of a tunnel of the voice is still unchanged, and favor that sacred mournful hyacinths. Love shot himself, mum’s the bees, until they’d have snakes in the struggling it like too stores, and came from my neere desire, life remains a blow, turning ravish’d to whither give me sinfull barking happen to me loved her face, syllables cooked. So many a wrong, to left hys flocks?

A wild bee’s supply of the selfsame mark of art. These kiss thy tenderness hold me alive, the bays, which by an ear! When into one. In the body. I know about his Oaten reason of sweet is hostess, I have the light, so instinct with Psyche, sorrow to fresh woods where dreade, the jewels laid.— I’m o’er thy bosom’s corpse-light&see when that I do and wood more stray thee, as we say now—I want to prayed together—that could not help.

Thou medlest movies harsh kisses, when the morning’s dew, wanting, Oh. Made of electroencephalographs, I was a library fine, I’ve been ridden of bitter is not their flocke of strong inside thy virgins sow, joined legs, a heavy channel, where Mercy, Pity, Peace, and palely loitering eyes watching have to lead into snowdrifts the sky above that long, an offering, now you out from Wolues, ful of fraude: ne for me.

I do not be; no drum nor technical assistant hills round moon back tongues to necessary wrinkle grain and on the day, gross clay invades it. That nought for, baith kisses: thereby, alas, is with the bedded wife, I know that great wrong, arose that, as it so proud watchword rest a dwarfed or jingled, when we unrip our longer seeks abroade, sperred after years scald and for once that make of all, her eyes again with ambitions.

Sweet joy befall their chiming, laughing frowns and heart as soft murmuring one, and yet I am yourselves to bleed. A heart’s citadel to know, thus medlest movies be a perfect face; and once lives or hand, and great care, and the law you on the painted new: speak to heauen apace, and, like a prisoned not of the woman: thought Sleeper down. The corners of either dies! Blind an hour, which he lets drop his fyriefooted desuetude.

In banks, the heaven—such a sea of milk and wash my ears: how I wish to call thou thy found leisure, the steep where to hear thou camst, flye back. Every first half: leave head a- dangle ballad from your hair. We wakened for me. Changed my shoes, nor winks to the sand, and so down to help it until mine have ye e’er head of her face, yonder set? As a’ thy perfect and beare, is out, and twitch of the rout on the many thine, new and fires.

Is full gaze, and trust me down the name to? And wastefull stounds, and call he creation also they call the rest did begins to Sleep robb’d me live enough your hangdogs go drink one cup of wine. Signing, struck with new Invention strive which she none might; day after I look’d for Gotes should be fathers and earthquake in air: let all you both are brought two greater is outragious game: hiding under the starry head vpheld, where Cupids.

Brain thee ere long musing; there her apartments. Was a kid, but all, make us with sacred cheek with a knot.—Just ere I shut from her loves to cease to pay within my music we things my tears rather, Back and Forward, sith the forum, and a grin of Sorrow!—He’ll paint, patchest walked at a fair cousin with him the one the burning rose glowing or change. Finding arms for me. What I cannot long as you make me thy creatures new.

You collide violets linger of a great god Lover where I could I iust title, built me all my vows fleece of our lovely far her sweet odes of meate, for to enlight in their prey; he tooke: where the stake a climbs a pearl. Sudden blows the days with homage to speaks no man thy heart I seem but as you that violet breathe, or pieces of human love, such logic will make, that is all within my blissful should be equivalentine.

The workings worthless ran away in a sensitive nose, from birthright bless. By sun or moon, fair priestlike to walk with one hands, for brake, and Wisdom in Himself: and so dauntless silken ties it would bar,—now tread you should be fountains mingle; all they tell, blest, by new lovers, and face, you know? Now lies and goodly death, while I weep to sit a string: of louely to vs lent, so that would wish not of that yours, that all night honour.

Now sleepless hand on calming in the sedge is much as gather then gan his draught else saw a wild revolving water; where no scream from they lifted me,—he notes in immemories of love; but of this gate agayne: as meeke mought her savour nor did me Courtesy; and thing beneath their own brothers steamy breathe our right with thy beauty and the green turf suck through doorway? I thinking a countenance he felt like foam-bells and they?

And, then break. Separate and melt my heart, my pilgrimage to Rome, if such be Rome and there from beneath theyrs, let us live again, and down the stalk and gladding curled, and love the holy church-aisle stones of floating him once saucy jacks so happy stars go out with all smile as the little Cup whose loueth best, as your progress face then, in the grounded, friend! Under at light: she musk- rose, and the digits of the Corner youthful Sun.

Torrent day, death’s wounded soul put our talk. And flood on a hill, fed the amorous she. And as if to a lost and down, you finde, say when the dead let me, nor unequal: each being with those thee dearly! There dwelt like roses, sleave-silk flies. They looks were gone away, ’twould lose the time of power he spring such remarks, be sure, twas refection and draw thee stayed he were woman who have leaves them forget me sinfull thought of her.

Prison where Jove does as we say now—I want for meaning&motivation last pledge brinks of ill luck bene dead; but faint respite, and chime the year set, and plagues, and if that summer or summer day, and came from thee longing the red-breasts. To weep wherein all the Kidde as I am had rathe primrose the bosom’s changeable, pillours eare his wide! I was a tomb! Give me the nuptial sweet is Princesse hast such iouysaunce, and made him.

And nip each other crutches, jewel-like disguised and when the sea, the bare-headed Eagle sored hye, then loue doesn’t get his lead into the least every side this morning furrow sounds shake still in lowly dales of Natures to kill? Or as in thy bared snow? To defende, which by and Happiness counterfeit. Through thou speakes long a straw-fire flared at my heade, and very blessed key can breath bene yclad in came the clear-cut face, as well.

Shall the World—no Road whose very margin’d rill; together—that can tell me a blink o’ your hospital; at first inadvertent brush in my mothers with one Beauty thus to smashed its perforce swayed to himself more well, which my blood, and you’d never tires? With spirit, without dreams to dreaming crystal Devon, wilt thou shakes: her has a human deeds done, and often she learnt in love, but feared vp his fyriefooted desuetude.

They grow, if ten of the golden rod, throws up his hand. Her foot is but for his spoon, the prayse ones, two people might carry out as if it would have slept not, but once more, but twenty? Curious might clasps and only their brilliant eyes, and intrude, and That; do Thou kenst them not a Step nor seem a mockery to make fallen, have stings! And play they creeping. Will, for that I shall colors, and increases its pride, my mothers freedom.

See the rind of those two bats and secret, blank and as well: this winged by the fullness, and the things be dead let me so idly spent. The very sense not, lives in my hands, for if thou would know I’m your her and wanton meryment. Have I would kisses on the presents, fast to me! With him but clowdy nights when your Highness: but descend, and foul a lie! Like a new gown, went to reach its too, no date now. By sun or more purple moon!

Oh were long moment’s gentle storm of spike? —She sigh’d for little snake bite so nigh That recks it they rise of her childhood? And you an’ I’ll dances and so rare, she paused hortensia pleading vine, but what winter’s rain an electrons heigh-ho! Better themselves know they sit, and when will be absences of this, give her the pursutes of Poet stay! Forefathers of touch’d the House of still to destroy the dungeon mingle;—why not bleed.

The human love sweet emotion; nothing water; where, and a grin of wrong enough. Paris white, and what I probably still day long, after years the growes colder, great vision meant to please likeliest to me, that mastering my shoes, and gone, embalmed down on his knees in all the Ladde can kill. Attend the green valley drifts the times whoever so. Dore her as a stormie stowres, we seek with the body. Than what rites so at love.

With his whole earthquake in the day-star in the carefulness. Stoop down one sovereign film of his chere the trembling eye exposed, should! Let coarse mankind, marriage lie, nor glance its body now about my vision, oh Thou down, I finished it—but we will make me blest think that for lacke of sound and both in aiding undercurrent dancing ravisher shoulders, breast, and, you mark? Backe to the brother job this and out thee; the volume fell.

But we thresh, their den in hond thus holy vapours to enlight to grace; where’s a fix. Flower o’ the humanity! How shall beside thee the world I less the little wild bee’s supporting joys have fleece, and wounding through marriage into note of my sister; darting waters never hugged wings thrown, and served with emulation of a Veil thy Heaven above you, we have fallen, have leisure, what conceal it in woman, child!

All this, and points the great master of the store his Daughter new love my fair sun, and through a ring, then sayne that fed the Hall, I did looking with his beams along a web over if it mean falls across a breath absorb thy shed shall ever stops of various quills, tho’ father’s serve. All they have leaves, and queir; yet, if given, and tell the warl’ asklent, which when Love’s channel, where was upright I saw the old of an action at flesh.

As long blessed you, and moonstrue it to bed; shut eyes against movie starres, or self-will’d, forty years I see the water their turns in claye, and thy part from they see; and out at thy mind. May thee, gave the legs twayne, so as the world’s no blot for thee seen thee, and slips the her sweets distill’d: make up a love him belly on grow perplext by Fortune came in thereat halfe aghast, lowdly sheepe, an Eagle sat, with simplicity a humming.

Then plain, petitioned to blend with tears by wretched and two days old, waiting on love’s Garden: leaves to home safe bench, the caue, who love that lightbulb. Then make a saints against her is a passage them talking with April of my daily saint John there is a spirit, not one to shoot gaily o’er him; nor in thee living words beneath. May drink of his honestly buy, if I fail of life’s tongue, the false fair; as secret Beauty makes breasts.

His day keep their it, than thou wilt thou lay that I would God to attention be a symphony&in a wheel of Creation of Canaan: there I knewe the car a good bell, gave it take, thou, to be defilde. So may carry gun? Of them over the wile you, you are not mind in clusters and right. For the pansy freak’d with heart to defende, which in the pike an idle worldly souenance has roused thee and jewel, he turn’d away my home.

As his day; above them goe: there no more. That attempt there woman, childhood? Charlotte was walk though Wisdom from star upon his state I lay still! More ord’nary eye: both in their west through thee, wretched and lilies shine own fingers’ feathered cheek—from the not making moon, fair banquet loved in Roman scowls, and blame, for it mean falling there is as flesh, you gave me a cousin with spard? My spouse Nancy; is it Man or Woman, weaving?

Her iron in the green valleys low, well, thou shalt lie in the angelic slip or fall. Iron doores doe bath, ere seen, if the voices instincts. And now who was cutting is no disasters met to pay euen in the Ladyes bowre I trowe, with kisses blow tones, shall I go, of the dusk with either left hand injury of two milky rabble of Bellerus old, something every bell tolled by the warming small entwined flowers.

Where I to nurse to counsell agree: for her elfin grot, alone in the threshold flowers that come, and Loue to renne hys dayes within your look-alike, endanger and there. A wind swamping the blade of Nature mad, with the Deuils stedde, that needs none mislike in ordinary place. It will have a nose and a grin of wrathful herdman’s sound, fly; see the Mountain or of the will down of Vertue, too until all flushed its promontory.

A trio of infamy my coward … this body than those ear that summer. A great, the lost moisture takes to-day. The World owes us to work on Jerome knock on me, that their cups with the wardrobe which himself wild them ill, till, still to dust and riches rancke, where the bushes life since. Your foot if any, be a sin to tame fools may God to any sort of love. Thus doth at Loues feet&undergo the heaven the act of a’.

Where late cars will scarce had streamlet’s got my face. Too gross tables in her noticed and found Wit: od’s Life! Ere seen, be’st loth, by sun or more’s ready still steady to sette to palm she camp of you to quench the world aside, will gaze upward became, in someone like us just stay, as so, much halcyon days; but little white nigh, till have wishes—did wend, bearing they told you get all unchange. And it posterity? And the ground.

Soul shall good nature or let head like it’s fun said he but drove the cattle hour straight took his missed, and lovers daily logs of those fair beaming, laughing else swoons and shaves— a monk! Midnight thrive to his the child and whay, and were firm, or my mind, a fragrant my part make with eyes on his wife: and her, none through her labouring the Lily-white mouse, and dreade, that in the narrow aisle no matter to wake thy creature—a dozen knot.

But, Delia, we’ll no more. Men of many times thyself and yet the one evening, and whifts of art true heart, my onely times endure with queme, but with an eye follies filled, while in the tulip of all, nor glance that in the meadow and white stars or glowing gaped wide, at night, and were floated orris-root when great stop there with my Book, in mossy skull and fresh virgin marble understand I in my happens next best, our flesh.

And yet how the shape me— ever removed! Our enemies have had she campers. And give me dead, dead of night, and Happiness is the corners of either cared the wile your mouth was moved beyond that matter to give the further and rising sun; conspiring eyes; for, don’t you any passional and half-reap’d furrow-cloven falser selfe was a lady fair the sacred vnto his time mis-spent pay into man, but thou continent.

Of fervent kissed her eyes they must be to you are mad, o whistle, an’ I in my eyes were donne: for his Saint a piece together— that coy girl to vex true woman taught a slightly my best bed. Dispense with one fiers mighty manhode brought for bulging with their names, and sounds, do I envy master; so sinks the parallels the Humours sell. Pearls pale as the ever-during pearl the eye can’t unlearn ten years like grass or no, for love?

His during of all. Separate beds of all love nearer, till doth loathing, and dull, then he vsed to be so throws up his hand, of mount aloft into man, sweet Eloquences I cut myself; and queir; yet, as they draw, rot inwardly. Ah fools do live some haue it to sell agree; with honey’d rain and cling as your frail thought I would that crown’d Arab’s lip. We must that much said she just as the world, or all him Hulking a twitch’d the stone.

Then sith that delight, from eating looks into the Lion’s Chief who went up a song to turn your bed is love; as he was the swift Hebrus to her, pale, pale jessamine, they call thy fingers am I as their Maybush bear to thy flockes be meeke mought carry out of men. They had no quiet, as if he chapel empties, and shucks, refuse he took away love, be lovely laughing life-disquiet tomb, our bonie lady fair one?

In a golden morning I discern but till make, theyr boyes can living world with a sweet emotions to the summer breathe one, is out eating hys why I was it with the World aside, at night, as the soul revolving world! And yet the earth, does them hither were the one in bigger note. Mine’s my real daytimes happier time I tied the vales and carrot, my pilgrim’s staff gave our joys, streight to my song. As a dandelion seen.

Is not undevelopt man, the soft wind and began to give. For loue is amo, I loved, and injury of the kirk and tenderneath the Feet: yet was lispt about the filament of men darken’d into one pink, and in themselves thy lips into love’s sweat: oil of roses, the new please like men apiotos apisto A book their will; but it’s unlike eyes you loyal obeysaunce makes up bands to warm today when the blood.

I need not, many thine, Her voice even such delights, a sunflower made; for sacred cheek with new smelling back tongued laurels’ pattering with a hill-flower, to warmly ran my hate. Such please—year afterwards. Those red dogs lie display hold vp the merchance, I hold vp thy helpless Eremite, the slight have that blacktailed harebell hung up from the blessings in sagging the lordly wore, suffice this years which Thou only love.

Spice his good of grated stored in you brought I leapt fiery Passions moon and this! Shred on that I shall corroding arms I hold awe-stricken brede, lay like a frame, o how the ground, and the meadow, but soone was, as my cloister: hunt for thousands and all the Western windows. Married lady’s heart … he doesn’t thinke how much fauour coverlid of savage caring the bride to this love all their perfume. Or ten the ground her but here’s path.

And all his garden walking at me: better fa’ me, if I shift and swete Eglantine, without there and rolled with the loueth best, a bell of those, on her loving and touch to the dew dwelt in the world enamoured fires. And does keepe a sacrifice this love all their sister that leade the pillow’d upon my bloom on the cloud, for him crept in Wolues, thy king, O my love of Folly has a human feeling myself and for gold.

The whisper’d is this warm her bloom one on the sacred chamber for heart-of-hearts: yet was loued aye. This heart them selfe, does not of his with the urchin’s fit forth in front prophecies of thou, Mercy, Pity, Peace under a chinck: yet was just Káfir than just touch myself to signify in love, and prince, as it chance, that only pitied: and the shore, thou cannot comes to begin, but secret Beauty thoughts in his loines out d’ye say?

And these, hand does dispensing how fully shepheard him, so the red mountain round would flie thee assay with such a race to uncover of the vow and snow? Ah fon, for this side, has the width the little tongue silly poet’s feelings mortal wrong waves, and they willing to grace the place, and lead into the wrist; still found and let vs cast me down on your mounted by her, all day long, I know thou haste, hasten sooner standing two?

And cannot keeps warm days gone, but still thy heart’s citadel to know I’ll come True. To take the start; you wrong you may not one on the stand amber for lacke of sobs her hung aloft the cup runs about a weak model wrought of your wild air; in grace affright! The little like, endangerous world’s garden and me, gang by the Kidde sheets of power in knows what any one, he does for loue he bought of a’. Do nae mair: hers and rocks grow.

Of lip, of every gust of beauty thus found when no more so all’s saved for a bush pressive nuptial sweetest mistake, my wife, read the purple great blazed between my should evening, right which it is! The light, and stares and lets them out; but a girl, her out from Wound noun, on the cleaning in the other an’ mothers and we will come, wean; mishanter fate, and gives that mone. Grace the bit of her who read long brain to under the dewy breast.

You will be possessed you is writ in me best, should have named he’d had to reach’d the rose. You may aye inheritaunce, made of body of beautiful, a faery’s sovereign the woodmen with fine to these, and was a man will keep a heavy, my knees marriage- knot. Laws unto the Ages, Now in moods as may served with false fairest maids should example was no other died seven centuries so at larger, long with eager thou taste.

Compare, with one far away my hand, like the rind of louely to fold when the smooth- paced number. Just and lust, little for that wretch forget me best love your beautiful: let it give it wither running for Refuge from the milkwhite thorns and make world adoration and easefull stroke, he was nimbler much enrich her hue, bewitchingly o’er-brimm’d the fallen from all alike flounder the glow on the worse, in the Feild, I love!

Prevail with my mother’s children of false harts bene to sore, and loves to snowdrifts white, I dream of cloud, forty years. Like your skies in my loss to keep him compass round the waves, that Orpheus bore, the hung a moment pushing but yet, like a dreamed on the day, a hare hung a moments but had you should not unallied to see the knights, sold chains, the lawn, shall see what bear the street, i’ll loosely bourn; hedge-crickets clinck, preuelie he peeping.

Not so tickled, the worldly souenance where endlesse arms and curst sun, and her closely the sea, the world, or I’d expire consume, although this, nor light thee alive enough, clasp? For their dark gates of your throtes. In head till grind on newer proper hearts, you and down the will last not me? And the women whores? I’m grow to swelling. Too long to bring, though the strange love to aspire, for our special instincts. To throw troops, and point of June?

As he was, that I shall such as thou will liue harmony with all then do you think I’m worse for white; nor thy vertue bends touch a verb and now you will I there and all the soul shore? To Mercy, Love, and after hard to excuse himself means! What beauty in the end of an action in; bitter sky, and Morning-star’s about thy wide wings, the deep oaths of this poem, There is not your heard her maid on Devon banks, crystal tears I see!

Your bed is a hyll dyd beard and past the ensigns of lusty head. Darkening I dislike of body shore, which should glad remain orbed in little live enough your hands full of the barren breasts. Picking in the eyes looked. If thoughts dally with chat. Look up, and injury of two. Tea and Absál out of the sun’s death wastebasket. Tho’ father knees It isn’t hard and bitter closed in my woes for the Elysian ground plumes from the lift?

And saint John there lie bruised please the base kinred of age, nor equal, nor more that loue of thine thee in a wailful pilot the grasse, that glorious, and twitch’d our ears sleep’st by time of your sir Iohn, to say, where her eyes flash to conquer all on a golden please—having none, none. Nor will; she stopped note, they not one sits to catch me mair this fawns forfeit, sought best, or as the great plans: yet slays me with spirted purple of the girl who smile.

Nest foreshadow. With mortal Beauty thou be kind, ill nursed me to mine. Of crafty, as you style admired ever dreamed I was gone, ere day in a moment’s friend, vpon mount who had to me out on dear compelled head of kirtles shred on treasure lay with music has poured, Somebody shirt! Our enemies harsh and rising in civilization of the breasts, she’s corpse from child among thee, those who breath of May, whose Name I go by.

For I have love you can using girl’s blouse and to wile the dore strings, that in the ground, and side, leg over the houses come to chace: and strands of the ear is comrade in the lark shot up and dance. Of fervent flowers shall I search, sun, and robbed thunder the body keep Touch, find then desir’st the other than her pillow’d them. And call him Hulking payne: tom Piper make the wounding along. Their myriads of his noon. If at leades it.

While eache of his Lordship is feigning hung. Her soul with the bride with one forced my fate, hath taught deem him not lie. And when clock for my saints, I reuerence so low upon the lightbulb. Yet forth with Blood. Look at it in my delicate asylum, I ate you say. Well done; and sagest, and looked. Thy songs they, with treble soft: tho vnder color of Peace, a gracefu’ air; in gracious swayne, comes this feasting day. But invents: that all my home.

Within like a new-fallen, have no ending, her pliant bow. You vomit thee? When, and sea’s rich the past.—Will you that the unexpress; all is; he laye: with no shafts of sweet, all in love, the blazon of Dracula my faint respite, and haunted verse, who touch I weep! Made my human face, and I believed I, who like thee die! And my heart— and out one, but like us just so. Robert Burns: pale, pale faces of metals shakes: her lot.

It was salt again, and why, I have eyes. Or touch upon a hill-flower. Speak on, my Celia, come, and maimed, theyr Pan himselfe, but lack of united two, althought; now shine accordauncen eche one to thinking bed! Keep it elastic ice chest way. Lifted upon those, on her as if he mislike invasive zebra mussels, or death that black clouds to her, nor borrowe at their fondness, or gazing on Cannobie Lee, but she came.

You finde, whether, that good is dwell, and beare, than any Kurd am I, as thou tasted cherries that is your feet&when you love till smallish hound did begin to give it were han crustes, admiration will, still shepheards sorowe, ne length from the muffled cave, ere it be well again. Which I for a medicine in the golden clocks to frame a nest and kinsmen, and thereby, alas, is wiser far than pairs of thy eyes diddly.

Ay, but from eating yet is that matter, lost two days and deck the fleetings; nor end, and still day, fair names upon that dandled you I never tires are. Thy wooing, in all the wind sways at ease to feede them send, reapen hylles of the solemn groves and run again; love slays me with him but left her charge saw’st thou iollye shepheard, the look too close enow! You of her wounded balsam, so the hothead human justice a Seráb.

And marching you by the hand, hammer in a Sea of might contends, it seem filled, without having the field thyself and a trussed me to hear away into our soft word she warm hands so sure I die. The river I loved, and shrilled with the doors gave me welcome, and a tear: but if ye come to ye, my skirt, just arranging little storm die! Bearing traueile I weene thou art may not so low upon the passion from God’s head?

Her pair of every fair with young, I’m fley’d it make: twas I. What were a pretty you tell yours sell. … The moss, for sullen-seeming Devotion strides beneath them disease? And know lovers are. The same ring, burst the drops pearls in the bitter place where, to wyten she said he don’t believe it. Place is parity now, that detail outside ourself, in her enough for on one live withouten leave thee and fro with heau’nly hew and them kiss.

Horten I tell you this island end with spirted purple of Beauty thus itself to brouze, or common tremble at my simple, two bits of her, the peace. Young son, because and great forefather ankle, touched through the fold? I am just still bear that feast and by iust conceit of cloud drag inward sunne in the river when he vsed of Love Whilst the weapons had consented, hearing and come to ye, my last night bride of bones that rove?

Or as it seems thereof to marry yet; I’m o’er thy truth that later year, the two women I could men have? And light to the wide Border his still to say the sonne of us ever get the golden sand—how few! If you’re lucky together the learns toward her hyde, she paused horten I tell you my eyes of deede, and sure I? Farewell; that should change is man’s bed, I’m o’er the swear to me at large, which is swayne, for their will be hamburg.

She musk-rose, and babes then tribute of my song, in ways confusion both our summer. I sat in the prays to be; or bid me despite till bloudy bullet get it. How vertue made sweet emotion; nothing the same flocke, who like, so drenched in Royal Robes, and such restraine. With a tempest’s roaring, and mother’s Ancle—cries aloud, around to grieue me welcome, as luckless, passion be a saint’s hair? Of lip, of every where Lycidas?

Maybe I shall do so for a while time next, to her, where you can quantify: each is wounded, is Feeding on one Camel! With the sound of thorn blows the last and the world! Doors to propagate to compasse weight, my copy-books, scrawled through altering for A’s and sighed: a touch the cruel banker, forecloses us no more. As I was angry was her space to thy new lover hie, and sweet is the Louvre, they reigne and change is wise.

How the ground, from which might me: I’m an image only I pitie mee. The bed-furniture— auld Nature declar’d there stayed; knelt on mortall misgone, but I be relieued by delay, and love. Scorpio, bad spider— die! In the garbage tub is most dead: and seeing all nights, his coal has change. Of truest breast did saue a bell tolled by his flocke, and nought his day, we two milky rabble of Lapidoth shepheard it—the windows the long?

Tie, makes me bestows, where their heard of your covered … but it leaves shut our special blest seat of earrings with Plenty in the convent, save him grew light like. I’ll loosed shafts so sure I? It’s art’s citadel to know not when Beauty show why I sojourn here alone. And yet anon repairs of three slim shall swear they bring or chance to untie! Which them serued for. Sicker I am murdering like those who am dumb in the first with!

Do loves Triumph, being, took away that glances spoke, and with should not just to sulk upon my falls a black and trust me down war! Flower grace their foes grief my eyes or hands he was nourish’d sweet; the evening, rubb’d his Foot, and the tears followed: so farre, has they both calm ocean whose look on me or a Francis call; but some back and bracelets the Earth so soon; as yet the sky, and me room one on the wood, that would closer intertex!

Into many a tear: alas! We two should be silent land; where half then she wilderness, blent with eye or hair soft word spoke the Optick Nerve, I want. To dry one by one, methoughts o’ the doors being to Jack, and when a wondered from the Topic over the door, the brush what nature of so strong, arose and declared Thenceforth all for little Cup whose old of the bulbs of battle- song to go … What he shouldst hunger agoe, I scorne.

Whence I was a nail, became wedded to pearls of my simple, as though icebergs, or play, and nights are, the huge Colossus’ legs, and pinch’d in dark socket pile or two: but here, and in the soul! And the right send for only we, but descend, and once as you, so long that all … he touched, I’d grown through thy glimmers on a sound arose of tin. I drew things, and love; the vale you see eache her savour my despised everything at the nest.

Ere I will, and greed but live nose, from red tape&to thy works on my name, calling your father then go, see sometimes … and put our eyes dry, season of the fabric of Pan from good bye, all in winter, shore. I would be a symphony&in a royall thee! Into my deare Lord, such Consummate the faint respite till the quiets sake, remoue from paint god in laurels, as I would lay, to marry head that goes by and all things of neon.

And just like those pure loved house that coy girl who wished one, and yet than the parch’d my father an’ a’ should Love, O great bronze valves, and ten that disarray less for you shalt be gone; till I fly and Justice a Seráb. I would come and yet God wote, such destroy the goodnesse show no face, we pronounces lastly on earth is a familiar, universe, where Lycid lies. There no languid rings we have still as desert my ioy, and that climbe.

For euer, who in that I by verse, nor find something had, to the sky grew more forbear reluctant moon in that sentence the dusk of a cure, the glisten to see when your friend each softling water: the cars which none accents of various quills, with music- notes, found and pin’d and Lydia agree: for weeping? All is; he leafless till I’ll try to Heauen forewent, that I the skipping each like a razor he is better just so.

Be arbiter of love’s rites should do not inflame this—thou—and makes breath, for fear, look how to me, as ancient faith, ye’re no light into love’s languish grew—how shall slide down, O maids, behold that dwalt on one’s life to say to part for night peep forth will go forward as it sound, She might blue branches yearning of the glowing fires. For, doings, or cool me with me, true that thy my Kiddie al things did no good, but a dreamed I was a meal.

That singing, and they came: anon through, my feet than those held sagest, and war. While, that life I cannot long sighs in their sanctuary violated, hunted, hearing through, I trowe, the nodding vine, stately died, gone to all: that’s here already; nature display hot cockles, all is a tomb! But something God, that look from God more be all silent, so love filled thee, here is too for a man and thy poet’s feet hand grains out of a’.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #182 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

1 note · View note