Part of the reason I've been less active on RinkWorks over the last year is that I've been spending a good bit of time over at www.sphereofhiphop.com -- a website for people who are both Christians and fans of hip hop music. It's a little known fact that I dig rap music immensely (okay, make that intelligent, lyrically complex rap music to be specific) ...and have been known to write my own lyrics in that genre from time to time.

Here's some really weird stuff I wrote recently when I was in a mood to do something spacey and a little abstract. I figured it's oddball enough to warrant posting to RinkWorks so that y'all can spend a few minutes unraveling it if you're so inclined.

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Ba ba ba, ba, Baba Yaga,
That's the newest from the Beach Buddhists together with Jon Secada,
Knock back a bock for a buck and then swaller a dollar lager
And you're ready for a cantata of Kum-ba-ya and Abba Father
I'm mopin' round the Copa Cabana scopin' the drama,
'Cause the Ramada on the Autobahn was booked solid for Ramadan
Come in out the summer sun and let your cummerbund come undone,
'Cause where I'm comin' from, comin' unstrung is rule number one

I don't know if this flow streams from all my hopes and dreams
All I hope it means is just that my brain is leakin' dopamines
Through open seams, like I'm either OD'ed on cocoa beans
Or halfway in a coma on the sofa with the Oprah fiends

From effervescent effluvium, I pour off the froth effortlessly
And I'm left with can't-fail, in"F"able edible delicacies
Effulgence bulgin' like effeminate indulgence in non-celibacy
I defeat the effete elite with more efficacy than you ever could see
Do the math: I'm constant like the co-efficient to the left of X adjacent
Neither boasts or self-effacement has an effect on the stellar placement
Of this starry-eyed Sagittarius strummin' a Stradivarius
To see what I mene mene tekel, heckle the Mede preceding Darius

I don't know if this flow streams from all my hopes and dreams
All I hope it means is just that my brain is leakin' dopamines
Through open seams, like I'm either OD'ed on cocoa beans
Or halfway in a coma on the sofa with the Oprah fiends

Iss "now where's all my fake gold chains?" achar