it's a sad state when man is raized to hate, discriminate, and eliminate all things strange, thinking they hold no solid place.
I can never be a hero
foolish things often run deep for me,
my lost thoughts as barren and systematic as winter trees
all subconscious comes forward through lack of dreams
cigarettes and antacids at six a.m.
water and eggs drowning down and coagulating
i feel bad and good all the same
transcending perception, making myself outsane
out in the streets howling to the early morning air
to the sleeping, sleepless, drunk, and meandering
breaking up the spaces between all of us stuck
in this blistering burning reality, with cars and tv screens
with debt and monetary dreams, lotteries to keep em clean
to keep them from destroying themselves
spiraling down the rabbit holes reading gravestones as no escape
only hope lies in the book that says the meek shall be saved
the high, the hearty, the full, and greed will try and repent for deeds
what a load of shit shoveled for the poor to believe
everything is amazing and no one is happy
2.23.2010
2.11.2010
war they said
I used to think of war in the hollywood sense without any sense. I used to see these heroic actions, which no doubt in many cases involved the bravery and willpower of the human spirit, and these actions are admirable from the nature of man, but being that, the nature of man, we aknowledge that we all stem from the same thing, and that thing, exists still beyond our scientific unified comprehension. Man is a warring creature who takes from the violent nature of the very substances which he is created from. The twisted earth bulging hot inside from the still fresh universe, lit up by the burning light of the sun. Earthquakes and Hydrogen Dioxide, wind, volcanoes, we live in a violent, turbulent time in the universe.
__I used to not think about things. I've been watching footage from WWII. The atom bomb and damages done by the US. The hand of god dropped down and burnt you up inside and out if you were even close enough to see it. I think that never in history have so many people been killed at one time. Should we have bombed North Korea in the Korean War, or now? Should we bomb Iran? Is this the problem that constantly faces the American person? What significance do the moral implications reflect on us as a religious, capitalist, warring system? Capitalism ensures a fair society, but a hollow society as well. I don't blame capitalism, I blame greed and the way that power and money make you hollow, what good is there in life when you are on a pedestal and don't have to struggle through the twisted world in which we are forced to exist on? What choice have I to be spurt forth on a warring planet and laying my hands in what guilt and Hollywood manufactured in my youth and what those warring people bought me to do.
I think few of us really have to struggle with the moral implications of mass destruction, but we buy people to do that. Grown old men, lawyers and families of former politicians, we buy them to make our decisions. I was bought young to battle in strange lands and would never again offer my soul. Not with the mysteries of the universe still at large, not with that distrust and distaste still bitter and hot in my throat.
Do we live in fear of the next atom bomb? I'm sure there are still wounds buried deep in foreign soil. Here we are sweeping up history's ever growing mess. Albert Einstein helped find the power of god, now we live in fear. What weapons will the discoverer of the unified theory create? Will we crash the moon down on the earth in a final assault, is total destruction the only solution? The mind makes the world the world makes the mind.
__I used to not think about things. I've been watching footage from WWII. The atom bomb and damages done by the US. The hand of god dropped down and burnt you up inside and out if you were even close enough to see it. I think that never in history have so many people been killed at one time. Should we have bombed North Korea in the Korean War, or now? Should we bomb Iran? Is this the problem that constantly faces the American person? What significance do the moral implications reflect on us as a religious, capitalist, warring system? Capitalism ensures a fair society, but a hollow society as well. I don't blame capitalism, I blame greed and the way that power and money make you hollow, what good is there in life when you are on a pedestal and don't have to struggle through the twisted world in which we are forced to exist on? What choice have I to be spurt forth on a warring planet and laying my hands in what guilt and Hollywood manufactured in my youth and what those warring people bought me to do.
I think few of us really have to struggle with the moral implications of mass destruction, but we buy people to do that. Grown old men, lawyers and families of former politicians, we buy them to make our decisions. I was bought young to battle in strange lands and would never again offer my soul. Not with the mysteries of the universe still at large, not with that distrust and distaste still bitter and hot in my throat.
Do we live in fear of the next atom bomb? I'm sure there are still wounds buried deep in foreign soil. Here we are sweeping up history's ever growing mess. Albert Einstein helped find the power of god, now we live in fear. What weapons will the discoverer of the unified theory create? Will we crash the moon down on the earth in a final assault, is total destruction the only solution? The mind makes the world the world makes the mind.
2.02.2010
Taught and Twisted Creatures
Little memories of a smaller me flash like old film. I've always wanted to learn regardless of where I was or what I was doing. I have big eyes and a big heart and I wanted to know the world from every angle. Now glowing ghosts in dry eyes are manifestations of a complex sadness. Everything rubs off on you. Your DNA learns from everything around you even if you don't notice it. I think we are always changing and cells always rebuilding, maybe we have gotten out of the grips of nature, either that or nature thrives on chaos, given the chaotic nature of the human.
We are not always analytical, and neither are we focusing all energy on survival. What makes us love? Stress and struggle. Struggle to survive and be, persistence, growth, and care. No one needs anyone anymore. So instead we use sex as therapy.
So we outgrew our bodies and our minds had nowhere to grow. Now the thick weed of the mind is crying out to the body through migranes, obecity, insomnia, and depression. It's screaming for more soil with which to root, but physical limitations and the slow nature of evolution leave us dire. As our technology seems to outgrow us, our minds outgrow our bodies, and thus the current insufferable social-economical and political climates throughout the world. Racism, genocide, torture, and war. Nuclear weapons, chemical weapons. Some people and entire societies are barely out of the caves we lived in 60,000 years ago, while the world grows at an unbelievable rate.
taught and twisted creatures
fumbling through the night
the vultures and the weasels
got steely eyes alright
if you don't have any ideas
then why do you exist
the part that you just cant start
is the reason for my bliss
We are not always analytical, and neither are we focusing all energy on survival. What makes us love? Stress and struggle. Struggle to survive and be, persistence, growth, and care. No one needs anyone anymore. So instead we use sex as therapy.
So we outgrew our bodies and our minds had nowhere to grow. Now the thick weed of the mind is crying out to the body through migranes, obecity, insomnia, and depression. It's screaming for more soil with which to root, but physical limitations and the slow nature of evolution leave us dire. As our technology seems to outgrow us, our minds outgrow our bodies, and thus the current insufferable social-economical and political climates throughout the world. Racism, genocide, torture, and war. Nuclear weapons, chemical weapons. Some people and entire societies are barely out of the caves we lived in 60,000 years ago, while the world grows at an unbelievable rate.
taught and twisted creatures
fumbling through the night
the vultures and the weasels
got steely eyes alright
if you don't have any ideas
then why do you exist
the part that you just cant start
is the reason for my bliss
1.30.2010
showroom of compassion
Empires are risen and destroyed within our sonar shores. Everyone has a place but I can't seem to find mine. I see the dark turn of time, and it breaks my inner signals up. It's getting cold landlocked and frozen in past desolations throes. less temporary than the styrofoam cups, broken down cars and pick-up trucks. With whiskey and boredom peace can be found in sprawling lines of anonymous ideas written on pages with simple complexity. Develop the self in rage against the system that betrays me, us. Word is no bond anymore, papers and copies are what spurs the system forward, absent and untrusting as we slip by in the corridors. Be good, be kind, be interesting. I've got a soft spot for anything.
1.29.2010
I have no eyes beating at the door.
Some want it all. Some want it more.
I have no ears, screaming what seem to be words
The American Dream so discouraging. It hurts.
I have no heart beating rhythmic misconception
I use instinctual perception when searching through the voids.
Incarnation of the soul bewildering scientific mind.
You can clap your hands and stomp your feet to the
charging electrical el train beat, down system,
down the roads to LCD youths in tight clothes
fighting the current inside, while going along for the ride
through corrosion of life in blistering sun
beat down, I feel it, you feel it too
I look into the mirror for hope, every time I stare into my own eyes
I have this intense feeling of knowing exactly what and who I am
i don't think it's quite self realization, as being aware and
contemplating your position as a biological self replicating organism
that beats you down the most.
We are the exhausted generation, upon arrival
we absorb ourselves in replication, mass representation
a mediocre modern exile from Eden.
Some words have weight and power, minds are strong
but being what we are, we cannot comprehend the answer.
I have no ears, screaming what seem to be words
The American Dream so discouraging. It hurts.
I have no heart beating rhythmic misconception
I use instinctual perception when searching through the voids.
Incarnation of the soul bewildering scientific mind.
You can clap your hands and stomp your feet to the
charging electrical el train beat, down system,
down the roads to LCD youths in tight clothes
fighting the current inside, while going along for the ride
through corrosion of life in blistering sun
beat down, I feel it, you feel it too
I look into the mirror for hope, every time I stare into my own eyes
I have this intense feeling of knowing exactly what and who I am
i don't think it's quite self realization, as being aware and
contemplating your position as a biological self replicating organism
that beats you down the most.
We are the exhausted generation, upon arrival
we absorb ourselves in replication, mass representation
a mediocre modern exile from Eden.
Some words have weight and power, minds are strong
but being what we are, we cannot comprehend the answer.
beggars delight
We pass through stores, and wait in lines. We cycle our tickets, and walk through the turn-style. Fragments of paper and trash litter the ground as some memory of life and time. I’m in the world, a part of the world.
The tiny strips of DNA trace back to survival. We are surviving, and doing so much more. I walk by the guy on the bridge posted on his milk crate. He laughs at the tourist walking by as they avoid eye contact and shuffle to the furthest side. “Scared” he says with a smile and shakes his cup a little louder.
Fear, I think to myself, is something few people truly know. Those brushes with the darkness that change our perception forever in the new world are seldom seen. I feel connected as the street poet tells me about sleeping on the train and how brushing your teeth every couple days is just as good as three times a day. I feel a connection because at a point I was embracing that feeling on top of a Humvee on the side of a mountain staring at the stars past the brim of a helmet. At least I knew I would eat.
It takes a special kind of person to live between the lines of society, a halfway person melting reality, and some foreign dream. Surviving sleeping above the warm air of the subway grate. Shaking the cup with the tiny metal discs that mean nothing, or everything. They deal with being ignored, brushed off, and feeling angry. From the “heroes” of a nation to the outsiders living on the banks, it’s really all the same.
The tiny strips of DNA trace back to survival. We are surviving, and doing so much more. I walk by the guy on the bridge posted on his milk crate. He laughs at the tourist walking by as they avoid eye contact and shuffle to the furthest side. “Scared” he says with a smile and shakes his cup a little louder.
Fear, I think to myself, is something few people truly know. Those brushes with the darkness that change our perception forever in the new world are seldom seen. I feel connected as the street poet tells me about sleeping on the train and how brushing your teeth every couple days is just as good as three times a day. I feel a connection because at a point I was embracing that feeling on top of a Humvee on the side of a mountain staring at the stars past the brim of a helmet. At least I knew I would eat.
It takes a special kind of person to live between the lines of society, a halfway person melting reality, and some foreign dream. Surviving sleeping above the warm air of the subway grate. Shaking the cup with the tiny metal discs that mean nothing, or everything. They deal with being ignored, brushed off, and feeling angry. From the “heroes” of a nation to the outsiders living on the banks, it’s really all the same.
1.26.2010
Business Kid and The Disco Dogs
10 Fists To The Earth
The rhythm of the fire moved to the music coming out of the solar powered FM radio. The beach was nice and the night had a cool darkness. Smooth like black velvet and looking into it you got to where you felt like you were being swallowed into the ocean. Peering into the sadness that the depths held for you, except it didn't feel bad, it was an adventure. That night it felt like a whale had moved into the darkness and some kind of static energy floated off of everything. We passed cheap wiskey to eachother drawing circles in the sand. I think I was just trying to float. Float on with the wavy breaks and hot currents of lifes deeps. I saw the numbers in your head clearer than you did. It was no trick we both knew. I lifted the rocks into the air, it was scary. I was afraid. But I was amazed, and excited to the point of hyperventilation. All the stories of people who could do it ended terribly. For a long time it was our secret. I wish I could say it still is, but obviously I wouldn't be here writing this now if that was the case.
_____The head person, whom I should not name, has given me this pencil and pad of paper, one envelope and one stamp. I fear though that this will never reach you. I have been imprisoned the past four years by people whom specialize in abnormalities such as mine. These people are dangerous and I assume know who you are fully, so please do not attempt to find me, I fear that ill wll may befall you if you do brother.
___.......................
The rhythm of the fire moved to the music coming out of the solar powered FM radio. The beach was nice and the night had a cool darkness. Smooth like black velvet and looking into it you got to where you felt like you were being swallowed into the ocean. Peering into the sadness that the depths held for you, except it didn't feel bad, it was an adventure. That night it felt like a whale had moved into the darkness and some kind of static energy floated off of everything. We passed cheap wiskey to eachother drawing circles in the sand. I think I was just trying to float. Float on with the wavy breaks and hot currents of lifes deeps. I saw the numbers in your head clearer than you did. It was no trick we both knew. I lifted the rocks into the air, it was scary. I was afraid. But I was amazed, and excited to the point of hyperventilation. All the stories of people who could do it ended terribly. For a long time it was our secret. I wish I could say it still is, but obviously I wouldn't be here writing this now if that was the case.
_____The head person, whom I should not name, has given me this pencil and pad of paper, one envelope and one stamp. I fear though that this will never reach you. I have been imprisoned the past four years by people whom specialize in abnormalities such as mine. These people are dangerous and I assume know who you are fully, so please do not attempt to find me, I fear that ill wll may befall you if you do brother.
___.......................
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