At the End... Niftykin

Is a Nifty Friend... indeed the Ideas are slime molds… re-routing previously fucked up things back to the way they were intended. The All plans all to plan few. The few to all plan many… times to rhyme with lime but spin on a dime. Only then to turn and wanna cry wolf to the lion about a hurt paw… it was then that I realized something wrong with your jaw… something wrong with your talk… the spells that you speak. I realized more than most would expect realization from thee… themselves in a bog of despair while I roam… through fields laced with dreams. I fell in love with the nightmare to conquer the spell… what ways do you use the fires of hell?

GO THROUGH ONE MORE TIME… The 3rd Time :)
something special about that… who knows…but...

I need to get this out on the page… something not so much about rage… no I passed the storm and am enjoying my eye… listen or not the big man never lies… trust in yourself and watch their demise… fact is we lazy… I was that guy that maybe… would reach up on that shelf… high… feel around for a wealth vibe… treasure my health tribe… temple my spell god. You laugh and rebel when the me in your skull, twists traces round lost nerves serve your self with the mission that I am worth… when you life your life your way you will only find a friend in me! Live yours free… because the energy been in me, fill-in and fall in to a tasty fabric of... some lines that mad wick… traced from the edges of space… walk magic hat black mat with facts fringed with fabric… watch me do a bat trick. Slam the ideas mad that the delivery driver chose… instead to mash the pedal and speed… masterfully slipping trap doors to floors that you know you need… to find if your mind ever wants to be free… then take it from me and do what you feel is aligned with the best me… and let your fucking freak flag fly free. As long as you know… we adjust and advise our own great misfit cricket… that knows a tune to spin full moon loony tunes with bare knuckle brawls with Annie Maniacs… I'm smelling BO-Lony in some sacks… something about slacks?… MK-Ultra Rats… FINE-men doing stacks… seem to be dim-witted bats… of papers worth of my search for verse worth my, course-of-course… this horse was hoarse… The very edge of danger became my new major… attraction to matching the one that is matching… frequency that speaks to me… meets with me… leaps with me… fall all the while, into the one- that knows thru me... the book and the movie… the reason for living and reason worth losing. For waiting and choosing... For gifts we all find, when we only give ourselves time… to live a life in the present-So- yea… I am an advocate for living… creating and being...in the moment... with a lens of being self-aware loathed motion cloaked in clay etched basalt chosen… vessel of water molten… copper and self accountable in a self sustaining way… then you can ride this fucking ride… until then… I will make… and from the Christ-oil take, actions to crucify with, be myself, become I with… Listen and heed… or do out of greed… I have made room in this song for it all. Now watch… as the micro-foam stalls…foam breaks through your walls as a phone.. you press pause… as stalls falls and breaks walls of perception worth electing and erecting… ideas that are indeed… quite fetching.