Outis - "Cosmic Zombies" Slam Poem

Announcing the release of my slam poem "Cosmic Zombies".

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Lyrics:
I'm caught between introspective flaws and a jagged breath
Because they lack spiritual fervor, they're decrepit and dead
You take the majority and leave me your scraps?!
I'm like a fish climbing a tree, ready to fall down and swim back

While you'll go out on the longest limb just to say "I told you so"
I guess it's a way to get back at me...
because I sparked your internal woes...? Well, it's IMPOSSIBLE
to explain passion because you're an apathetic person

I'm sick of feigning optimism when all hope is illusory
And still my closest friends are merely my enemies

I'm feeling weak and invalidated as a petitioned prisoner
Rotting in a cage with lots of bratty xenophobes
My ego's in 2 places at once, disguised as people I know
As Earth exaggerates its apathy and socializes my anxiety

Feels like hours, but merely minutes go by
They're seen staring at a phone and talking about the weather?
They're highly egotistical, therefore have an eroded sense of self

It was a quite distinct psychopathic, psychotropic indication
To quit hoarding my information and short-circuiting my inspiration!

Outis - "Placebo Heart" | A Slam Poem

Announcing the release of my new slam poem "Placebo Heart". Over time, It has become clear to me that the people who thrive in the western world are those who continuously accelerate the status quo. So long as you're excessively caught up in mundanity, you'll have a virtually bottomless supply of food, property, and a sense of belonging.

In this poem I express my disillusionment of said ways of civilization. 

I enjoyed creating absurdly fictitious sea creatures and mixed metaphors to express my disillusionment and reveal how hypocritical the average person is. 

ex: jalapeno jaguars, artichoke sharks, drowning an alligator, etc.

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Lyrics:

What's a poet to do when he hears music coming out of airvents?

There's a splinter in my soul and no muse can care for it

But is a fisherman off duty considered an empty fine line?

I don't know what to do when questions become answers

Or when authenticity becomes primitivity, stuck in a time warp

I'm just trying to navigate my ship to the ever-changing port

But it's flooded with jalapeno jaguars and artichoke sharks

So I'm stuck with this placebo flashback for a heart

Yo your darkness plagues me with bad lies and artificial experiences

There's no brighter side of the crass, just this rough patch

So I'm paying homage to the art of articulating things

So feel free to see the outside, but ignore the core of it

The top half of me's vibrant, but the bottom feels dead

We're only related in the sense it's biologically accurate

And any problem you got with that isn't my job to deal with 

So I'm smashing the heads of water snakes with golden chains,

Using my bald ego to drown alligators in wailing waves!

Outis - "Name Games" a Slam Poem

Announcing the release of my first slam poem "Name Games". The theme is to comment on the superficial nature of society and how it continues to brew more and more ignorance. Since I choose to be an organic human, not an obsequious idiot, 9 out of 10 people I come across think they have a right to micromanage and patronize me. As if I'm the misguided and confused one. 
If the shoe fits, wear it. But I can't get my foot in, because it's a baby shoe.

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IG: https://instagram.com/itsoutis | @itsoutis

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Lyrics:
Yo I played too dead, they went and put me in a coffin
But chopping up liver’s a task I simply can’t tackle
So call your name on a role, or call you on a phone
It doesn’t really matter so long as your response is socially acceptable

But what’s a hunter to do when he becomes the beast he seeks?
I suppose turn the staged self into the one behind the scenes
So from that 2-legged bear getting mauled by a sofa,
To the messenger shot for taking matters into his own hands

I’ll keep an eraser in my back pocket for the human activity
So I can become an obsequious drone with no semblance of autonomy


Yo, I’m just a shell of a man, trapped around a yolk
That chip on my shoulder has graduated into a boulder
That serpent in my heart’s slithered down to my ring finger
So put your name on a paper, or a tag on your collar

it don’t matter so long as the ownership is superficially plausible
But I’m sweating silver bullets to keep the humidity humble
So from the detrimental perfectionism oiling up my train of thought
To the beauty taunted over me I’m yearning to snatch up

I’ll keep a cradle in my grave to counteract the old soul stamina

And a temperature gauge in my mouth, to measure the freezing empathy