Blank

I’m on a journey where things just tend to get stranger,

I have a stoic face on, from a chemical brain changer.

my emotional range has been strictly maintained

so I stare down bliss the same way I look at danger.

I’m a feather, slowly floating along through sweater weather,

whether the winds are weak or strong, I’m just gone

and the song in my mind is on a short loop, perpetual,

It’s the same time of the day, no matter when I look at the schedu-al,

Third eye’s view is laser precise, cuz all the colors of emotions are void,

I can only see in a sharp black and white, I can hear a loud silence, I can feel the noise;

each moment is vivid, from the inside out

But I’m on Saitama’s vibes all day, without a doubt. – RSM

A Note for The Gardener

Know that you did your best, and it showed.


The love by your side is what grounds you, she is your earth;


how else could you rediscover these roots and water the tallest trees while planting new seeds?


El jardinero – you did your part, and more.

Think of yourself less as the bridge – a hard, flat, steel, man made vessel that gets run over in both directions.


Think more of yourself as the garden and the gardener, cultivating your growth, and the growth of those around you, just the same.

– RSM

Hydro-Electric Chemical Mind Maintenance

It’s a chemically engineered substance intended to ‘hold back the dam,’

with these damn chemicals that build up in your body and brain

to prevent other ones building up in your body and brain.

In circles we go, to obtain these little circles that are meant to

quell the rapid cycles that spiral within the mind,

and ’round these parts, you better have some funds flowing

to keep up with the up-keep and keep this dam damn flowing..

Sometimes it feels like a maze that keeps changing.

Make all the right turns, and you’re left back at square one, gazing –

into the void, with an old, folded, yellowed hydro-electrical manual,

and the poor foreman is expected to fix all the innerworkings,

but the methods and materials keep changing, re-arranging

the arrangement made on how to maintain the body and brain.

Trying to read the manual, the foreman gets lost in words that repeat, repeatedly

as these treacherous whirlpools pool words into destructive spirals with infinite curves:

“We have the best tools for hydro-electric concrete retention, pushing back on the water’s natural forces and pressures of the body of water it holds back, to regulate hydro-static pressure…” 

Word soup boils hot while the dam cracks, but doesn’t break,

for the consequences are just too great for it to take; given, say,  another sudden earthquake.

The dam bares it all with repairs to the walls.

As another new expensive method starts at phase one,

and the foreman begins to question whether any of these new materials help at all.

Maybe it’s all just in the foreman’s head? The dam might be holding up fine, instead –

but the thing is, I’m the foreman in the walls, making sure the water goes,

and whenever it feels like walls are closing in or ‘the veil is thin,’

it feels like another referendum on the synthetic circles, these,

things that-are-supposed-to-combat ‘rapid cycling,’ or ‘feelings of worthlessness.’

But what does the foreman know? The dam walls are concrete, but sometimes feel hallow.

Nevertheless, I refer to the dam’s manual to make sure it all-flows. – RSM

Keyboard Rapper, Vol. 11

Critics claim I’m ‘creatively bankrupt,’ but I got mad mental guap under my Uncle Tony’s mattress

I dig a few bills out, write what’s on my mind, and pray that my prey still thinks I don’t have shit,

I got multiple mind-cores from the ceiling to the floor, third eye disguised, I let you think I’m a halfwit

but I’m emptying banana clips into this rough draft, I’m tuff with the craft, which –

I’ve been proactively practicing since-I-was-a-damn-kid;

I’m on chapter eleven but my credit is untouchable

I ruffle feathers like windy weather while my words go out and hunt for you,

my writtens got you smitten, these scales are always tipping

with my heavyweight phrasiesz,

I’ll put you in a daze for several days until you’re pushing daises, I’m

ur flow wolf, Ru; reverse-unorthodox, my words give birth to pregnant ladies –

In my world: all the shoes wear socks, workers know their worth, and creatives aren’t written off as ‘crazy,’

The best people are bonkers, bro, I’ll bet mad hats on it,

my rhymes’ll black swan your whole dance hall and grind you all the way down

while scoring 100 easy on your most difficult scantron –

my creative currency is off the books, just crypto-palabras

put your mind on a rollercoaster, drain your brain like a hungry chupacabra;

Volume’s on Eleven, even Jane Hopper couldn’t help you,

I’ll let your mind catch up, before my words melt you. – RSM