Conquer the world with your kindness Mateja
let your beauty shine
with music in your head and your talking shoes
you'll always be doing fine
Love the night, the light the life
dont run but explore your mind
and smile and sing and share that joy
with anyone you find
play me a song on your guitar Mateja
let your beauty shine
with music in your head and your talking shoes
you'll always be doing fine
Remember to love them all Mateja
the interesting and the bland
Even Britney is looking for beauty in life
and she'd be proud to shake you hand
Conquer the world with your kindness Mateja
let your beauty shine
with music in your head and your talking shoes
you'll always be doing fine
******this is a silly and stupid song, but this 14-15 year old walked up to me today and asked to take my picture. I said fine as long as i could take hers, and we sat and chatted. She was pretty sweet, i wish i were like her when i was 14, and i listened to her advice hoping to get tidbits from the woman she will become. good times... anywho i was just happy to have met a nice young amazing*****
Saturday, April 08, 2006
silly poems from Zagreb (spring 2006)
____A__________________________________________________________
When the flock flees a feared and scatters
The child stands trumpeting triumphant
The parent stands idle not realizing it matters
To correct young sadists before their screaming announcement
____B______________________________________________________
If you are in Europe in any town
There is a statue of a man on a horse
This is the man who nobly led
And who was victorious in war
Around the statue will be some birds
Who happen to be the source
And upon his noble majestic head
Will be what these birds know the statue is for.
____C____________________________________________________________
When you see the lonely Babushka selling flowers
With her “help me?” sales pitch
Don’t be deceived by her cunning powers
For in reality she is quite rich
With basement full of hydroponics
Her flower fields bloom in the coldest of winters
And the Babushka Mafia pushes out competitors
While their corporate alliance never splinters
*****
A and B seem fairly self explanatory, C is a silly hypothetical, and of course isnt true..
When the flock flees a feared and scatters
The child stands trumpeting triumphant
The parent stands idle not realizing it matters
To correct young sadists before their screaming announcement
____B______________________________________________________
If you are in Europe in any town
There is a statue of a man on a horse
This is the man who nobly led
And who was victorious in war
Around the statue will be some birds
Who happen to be the source
And upon his noble majestic head
Will be what these birds know the statue is for.
____C____________________________________________________________
When you see the lonely Babushka selling flowers
With her “help me?” sales pitch
Don’t be deceived by her cunning powers
For in reality she is quite rich
With basement full of hydroponics
Her flower fields bloom in the coldest of winters
And the Babushka Mafia pushes out competitors
While their corporate alliance never splinters
*****
A and B seem fairly self explanatory, C is a silly hypothetical, and of course isnt true..
Paris Riots (spring 2006)
And when at last they get their way
The protesters become violent
So amassed to seize the day
They amuse in the power of the defiant
So amazed with the power of what they say
They fear a return to being silent
And thus the few set streets ablaze
But most go back to being compliant
And we in turn debate the right
While when at home we sit and spoil
Recognizing the fires that bring the light
But not the sacrifice of being disloyal
Can we relate, not having felt the bite
Of not knowing security while you toil?
Is the present, cause to fight?
When fires bring the future to a boil…
*****Paris riots, turn on the news... me and Rachel were having a friendly little chat about the situation... she feels that the students are going to far and it will end up hurting the country more. I think its hard to judge when our own students dont do shit and should ******
The protesters become violent
So amassed to seize the day
They amuse in the power of the defiant
So amazed with the power of what they say
They fear a return to being silent
And thus the few set streets ablaze
But most go back to being compliant
And we in turn debate the right
While when at home we sit and spoil
Recognizing the fires that bring the light
But not the sacrifice of being disloyal
Can we relate, not having felt the bite
Of not knowing security while you toil?
Is the present, cause to fight?
When fires bring the future to a boil…
*****Paris riots, turn on the news... me and Rachel were having a friendly little chat about the situation... she feels that the students are going to far and it will end up hurting the country more. I think its hard to judge when our own students dont do shit and should ******
sidenote
(*(*(*(*(*(*
I will try to fix the spacing on some of those old ones as soon as i have time..*(*(*(*
I will try to fix the spacing on some of those old ones as soon as i have time..*(*(*(*
Friday, April 07, 2006
the black one (fall 2005)
Everyday, I run across that magnificent Arab
At the end of the line
He greets me with a snort
And paces…
Showing his Displeasure Ears Rolled back
He wonders bout his Safety…
Cuz in Solitude he stands…
Separate
Distanced from his pleasure
His pleasure
Where’s my food? My shelter?
Where's my security?
Where's my sensation of a safety net?
Where's the Attention I once Commanded But never demanded
He breathes heavy
Shouldering bricks of dissatisfaction
Where’s my pleasure?
The leisure to lead, proceed, exceed our desires
Where are you? He breathes heavy
Where are you?
Oh He breathes heavy
As if the Air in his deep chest
Don’t compare to what was once there
He breathes So heavy Comparing air to air yet still he feels it lacking
Lacking the comfort of someone to roam with, talk to, and moan with
Someone who shares his discomfort so that it hardly seems there it all!
Distance!
Distance is what he feels now
So Distant he’s defensive
That’s right he breathes heavy now Ears rolled back
He retaliates
Please you? I please me now!
He reciprocates
So insecure he presumes fear now!
And pacing like a true stallion
He’s
Heavy breathing
Heavy and impatient
Heavy breathing
Heavy without complacence
Heavy breathing
Heavy with fortitude
Heavy like he’s been fractured
Heavy frightening heavy fierce and flagrant
Heavy deceiving all so he’s not perceived as stagnant
Heavy breathing like the world owes him something!
Heavy breathing facing down his fear of something - something
Unfelt in So long and he got used to not believing it
Or maybe faithfully
He chose to remain ignorant
So faith-lessly he’s a feared of being alone while
He’s questioning all that he believed now
And Wondering
Why He’s not the one you need now?
*****This is once again, more of a performance, and im sure the spacing will be messed up but the old stuff should help get the point across. reading this even now, i was so lost, so heartbroken..
there was this horse in the stable who would pace with me when i was upset.. he would stare and snort and stomp his hooves and i felt like we knew exactly what was going on... later i found out he has some sort of breathing problem... which kind of ruins it... but at the same time i cant tell you how connected he was to my emotions...******
At the end of the line
He greets me with a snort
And paces…
Showing his Displeasure Ears Rolled back
He wonders bout his Safety…
Cuz in Solitude he stands…
Separate
Distanced from his pleasure
His pleasure
Where’s my food? My shelter?
Where's my security?
Where's my sensation of a safety net?
Where's the Attention I once Commanded But never demanded
He breathes heavy
Shouldering bricks of dissatisfaction
Where’s my pleasure?
The leisure to lead, proceed, exceed our desires
Where are you? He breathes heavy
Where are you?
Oh He breathes heavy
As if the Air in his deep chest
Don’t compare to what was once there
He breathes So heavy Comparing air to air yet still he feels it lacking
Lacking the comfort of someone to roam with, talk to, and moan with
Someone who shares his discomfort so that it hardly seems there it all!
Distance!
Distance is what he feels now
So Distant he’s defensive
That’s right he breathes heavy now Ears rolled back
He retaliates
Please you? I please me now!
He reciprocates
So insecure he presumes fear now!
And pacing like a true stallion
He’s
Heavy breathing
Heavy and impatient
Heavy breathing
Heavy without complacence
Heavy breathing
Heavy with fortitude
Heavy like he’s been fractured
Heavy frightening heavy fierce and flagrant
Heavy deceiving all so he’s not perceived as stagnant
Heavy breathing like the world owes him something!
Heavy breathing facing down his fear of something - something
Unfelt in So long and he got used to not believing it
Or maybe faithfully
He chose to remain ignorant
So faith-lessly he’s a feared of being alone while
He’s questioning all that he believed now
And Wondering
Why He’s not the one you need now?
*****This is once again, more of a performance, and im sure the spacing will be messed up but the old stuff should help get the point across. reading this even now, i was so lost, so heartbroken..
there was this horse in the stable who would pace with me when i was upset.. he would stare and snort and stomp his hooves and i felt like we knew exactly what was going on... later i found out he has some sort of breathing problem... which kind of ruins it... but at the same time i cant tell you how connected he was to my emotions...******
Tainted Nation (2000-1)
This land you live on now,
First found by ice age cavemen,
Overdeveloped gorillas, didn’t know who, or why, or when,
Their only goal to hunt, and survive,
Evolution steps in
Tribes of humans start to thrive.
Alien men show up in the water with the sun.
Funny looking clothes,
Skin as pale as ghosts.
Bright colored hair, fire sticks, 2 x 4s set in a cross,
War breaks out, plague takes out, mass population loss.
False treaties signed, war kills still,
The body count at hundreds of mil,
White man assimilates; try to break the will,
Of the people who stand proud till they killed.
In Africa colonization begins with slave forts.
Europeans trade goods, for slaves at every sea port.
Middle passage is hell,
Made worse by the smell
And the “goods” lives end way too short.
Tortured in a small boat, like a dog in a cage,
“Make em sick and malnourished, to keep them from rage.”
No energy to fight back,
And the whip stings when cracked
But the land brings hope,
Until they realize “nope.”
It’s just another fort to be sold at.
Fat white man with a hat
Demands they speak English
For their new found master.
“Too slow!! Speak faster!!
Cuz that strong one looks like a laster,
For the tobacco fields”
But the master still wields,
The power,
In the form of a whip,
Like back in the ship,
It’s a never ending pain trip.
War with Mexico or Europe seemingly long past
With the first signs of industry popping up fast.
Civil war and the outcome, a good day in theory
But though things change a lot, they still don’t change.
Racism runs rampant through the hills through the streets,
Still a white power nation in control at the judge’s seat.
“You drank from a white fountain, used a white bathroom?”
KKK will get you wake up dead in a tomb.
19th amendment in history pretty rare,
all of a sudden selfish men learned to share.
Things may have changed with women’s votes
but the great depression left people without fuel or coats.
Early 20th century, world war shocks the ground,
Gunfire, bombs, and stomping boots are the sound,
You hear as you walk on the decaying streets
Of any European town.
The cities are in shambles, the camps
Reek of a horrible smell,
Though this time its decaying bodies, hurting people, burned to hell.
Gas warfare, and napalm,
Destroy everything that’s calm.
Radio reports of bombs hitting pearl harbor,
And machine guns start blazing.
Nuclear warfare; people burning while gazing
At the mushroom cloud in the sky
V-day a semi sane world dies.
Society suddenly thrusts into a place,
Cold war threatens, “Children cover your face!”
“Under the desks when you hear the alarm.
Don’t know much about it but a nuke will do you harm.”
Still today people can’t cross a hill, fence or street,
Why do they need to cross just to survive, just to eat?
We sit here watching TV in a leather seat,
Ask yourself this one while you eat that tasty dairy queen treat,
Has America been tainted by cheaters trying to cheat?
Minorities always struggling
On plantations they felt the heat.
Or modern day society
Feeling police dogs breath on their feet.
Always fighting back cuz they know they can’t be beat,
We never ever except defeat.
Society is made up of people so this is what I ask of it,
What’s up with this past and present pattern of bigotry us hypocrites?
Discrimination aint got no place in this people or from our governments
We cannot sit here doing nothing nor just talking all about this shit.
******this was my epic history poem... i think i got some facts out of order... but i cant tell you how long i worked on this... and like much of the stuff i did sophmore and junior year it has that activist theme.*****
taking the time (spring 2005)
What would happen if she took the time
Instead of showering and masking her self derision
To show the world her beauty
By showing it it’s beautiful
And I confident to criticize
Without contemplating my motive
If I took that bitterness and instead
Started a movement
She the buck forty five for coffee
to jumpstart her heartbeat
and I the energy spent denying the lying
she the time spent procrastinating
I while anticipating
Somehow denying she’s trying
We play games instead of taking chances
Like when I play risk instead of risking
And she when defensive starts the dissing
****oh you know****
Instead of showering and masking her self derision
To show the world her beauty
By showing it it’s beautiful
And I confident to criticize
Without contemplating my motive
If I took that bitterness and instead
Started a movement
She the buck forty five for coffee
to jumpstart her heartbeat
and I the energy spent denying the lying
she the time spent procrastinating
I while anticipating
Somehow denying she’s trying
We play games instead of taking chances
Like when I play risk instead of risking
And she when defensive starts the dissing
****oh you know****
the other sort of comfort (2001-2?)
Somewhere in-between joy an depression
Right before numbness and full of confusion
I found words that could melt ice____
Felt their delicate curves, the texture and taste
Left in my mouth
Yet once spoken the words lost all meaning
Lost or taken for granted
Forever unused crackers going stale in the back of the cabinet
No hope of a future other than that of all broken, once spoken, phrases
Having realized this and its always bitter harvest
I felt betrayed by the world and sympathetic to
The words
But found with time they
Were incapable of feeling the same
Creating little but boredom
The light shone, words were a falsehood,
A magnificent façade a glamour a touch
Of sweet in a bitter world of cold, but
They are not warmth, not fire nor
Sun, a flicker a night light bright shock
At most and incomprehensibly dull in
Themselves
But who’s lips and tongue touched
Them moist and loving not even caring
About the words spoken the feeling placed
In them, the cozy comforting touch
On you heart as you listen
Goosebumps
Shiver
Never felt so loved
*****this is about words and poetry and such... the differences between trying to express emotions that mean something and writing for beauty's sake... i dont know when i added that last line, and im not sure i like it.*****
Right before numbness and full of confusion
I found words that could melt ice____
Felt their delicate curves, the texture and taste
Left in my mouth
Yet once spoken the words lost all meaning
Lost or taken for granted
Forever unused crackers going stale in the back of the cabinet
No hope of a future other than that of all broken, once spoken, phrases
Having realized this and its always bitter harvest
I felt betrayed by the world and sympathetic to
The words
But found with time they
Were incapable of feeling the same
Creating little but boredom
The light shone, words were a falsehood,
A magnificent façade a glamour a touch
Of sweet in a bitter world of cold, but
They are not warmth, not fire nor
Sun, a flicker a night light bright shock
At most and incomprehensibly dull in
Themselves
But who’s lips and tongue touched
Them moist and loving not even caring
About the words spoken the feeling placed
In them, the cozy comforting touch
On you heart as you listen
Goosebumps
Shiver
Never felt so loved
*****this is about words and poetry and such... the differences between trying to express emotions that mean something and writing for beauty's sake... i dont know when i added that last line, and im not sure i like it.*****
worries (2000?)
In a suburban city,
In the U.S of A
Young girl talks
On the phone all day
About material things
Abercrombie and shit
She worries about the dance
How she’ll pay for it
She wants to know
What should she wear?
How to do her hair,
Does he really care?
And how to walk in a pair
Of 4 inch heels
She wonders how he feels
While another girl
Worries about her meals
Out in Africa
She sits in her bed
Cloth on a dirt floor
House the size of my shed
And she’s crying
Cuz her family is dead
The police came
And shot em in the head
How will she get fed?
Now she has to wed
Just to get by
She saw her family die
Still wonder why she cries?
OK now here’s a change in pace just to help you get along
If you’re listening to this song
Ok now, you know we all worry about many different things
Its what this life brings
Pleasure but it stings
Its our freedom held in by steel bars
But lets look to the stars
Where we see an alien race
With worries on their face
A complicated case
Cuz there is no longer any trace
Of the base-ic solution
Of their energy and pollution
This once great institution
Has now fallen to a panic
The leaders insanely manic
They cant understand it
Why didn’t they start to manage
Now the planet is all damage
And their civ is done
Leaders on the run
People got the gun
Anarchy beneath the blue sun
This will soon be our situation
Planets got its limitations
But people got the motivation
To chop it up
and fill their cup
with polluted water
from dirty nations
the planets a living thing
its gonna die someday
we got to slow it down
not help it on its way
****I wrote this when i was a sophmore, reflecting on the differences between people in different places. i had gone to tanzania earlier that year.. I was starting to become involved in SOS (our environmental and social justice group at school)
it wasnt meant to place judgement on suburban girls just to note the differences, but i think my prejudice probably shows..*****
In the U.S of A
Young girl talks
On the phone all day
About material things
Abercrombie and shit
She worries about the dance
How she’ll pay for it
She wants to know
What should she wear?
How to do her hair,
Does he really care?
And how to walk in a pair
Of 4 inch heels
She wonders how he feels
While another girl
Worries about her meals
Out in Africa
She sits in her bed
Cloth on a dirt floor
House the size of my shed
And she’s crying
Cuz her family is dead
The police came
And shot em in the head
How will she get fed?
Now she has to wed
Just to get by
She saw her family die
Still wonder why she cries?
OK now here’s a change in pace just to help you get along
If you’re listening to this song
Ok now, you know we all worry about many different things
Its what this life brings
Pleasure but it stings
Its our freedom held in by steel bars
But lets look to the stars
Where we see an alien race
With worries on their face
A complicated case
Cuz there is no longer any trace
Of the base-ic solution
Of their energy and pollution
This once great institution
Has now fallen to a panic
The leaders insanely manic
They cant understand it
Why didn’t they start to manage
Now the planet is all damage
And their civ is done
Leaders on the run
People got the gun
Anarchy beneath the blue sun
This will soon be our situation
Planets got its limitations
But people got the motivation
To chop it up
and fill their cup
with polluted water
from dirty nations
the planets a living thing
its gonna die someday
we got to slow it down
not help it on its way
****I wrote this when i was a sophmore, reflecting on the differences between people in different places. i had gone to tanzania earlier that year.. I was starting to become involved in SOS (our environmental and social justice group at school)
it wasnt meant to place judgement on suburban girls just to note the differences, but i think my prejudice probably shows..*****
the next chapter (spring 2003)
Flinging off responses so candidly
Emotions like blood spill from the flood
A retrospective, introspective
search seek and deny
My flights aren’t good enough, so why am I?
I speak upon the journey of two fortnights past
and I pass it away
Pass over it in conversation.
They tell me to write about it, as if it were the pivotal moment in this
man’s life,
but for me just a flight,
more comfy than papers, math books and college applications, examinations
of who I am.
I’ll take them on my own time, in foreign lands, thank you.
Soul Searching
My natural rhythm
Enlightenment my natural drive.
Rejection my fear,
Decades making this transition
This trip, my last attempt at an intermission
Before life in their eyes,
becomes mine.
*****this is about my first trip to europe... i wrote it afterwards when i realized how much i was afraid of moving on... the trip made me ready. people told me to write about my trip for my college application so I wrote this poem about it and then spoke about how the trip made me realize what was important to me, but initially it was just me running away.*****
Emotions like blood spill from the flood
A retrospective, introspective
search seek and deny
My flights aren’t good enough, so why am I?
I speak upon the journey of two fortnights past
and I pass it away
Pass over it in conversation.
They tell me to write about it, as if it were the pivotal moment in this
man’s life,
but for me just a flight,
more comfy than papers, math books and college applications, examinations
of who I am.
I’ll take them on my own time, in foreign lands, thank you.
Soul Searching
My natural rhythm
Enlightenment my natural drive.
Rejection my fear,
Decades making this transition
This trip, my last attempt at an intermission
Before life in their eyes,
becomes mine.
*****this is about my first trip to europe... i wrote it afterwards when i realized how much i was afraid of moving on... the trip made me ready. people told me to write about my trip for my college application so I wrote this poem about it and then spoke about how the trip made me realize what was important to me, but initially it was just me running away.*****
circle entities (spring 2002)
Circle entities leave me feeling left out
out of time out of rhyme with no feelings of sublime
why when caring gets involved are the walls brought up and who complains in
the rain if the suns still out?
Artistically challenged brought to the form and formality
constantly waiting for a new surface reality
ever emerging, the Earth and the sorrow it bred
ever submerging new thoughts in my head
uplifting the guilt I've been shifting and fitting it into the next womb
who's next to be consumed
ripped through, but danced with
please interact with those feelings you've displaced you brought them to
this place
showed them with your face
its aggressiveness formed from the shape of your brow
and the flared nostrils still wondering how?
get rid of it you don't need but still repeat it end up once again with
everyone gettin cheated and you ask how to beat it?
I already told you once why much I always say things twice?
don't you think a single moment of pure truth should suffice?
but in the end I'm not representing nothin but vice
so I say it with forgiveness and the roll of some new dice
Circle entities leave me feeling left out
out of time out of rhyme with no feelings of sublime
why when caring gets involved are the walls brought up and who complains in
the rain if the suns still out?
I got my cloud my chair but my air is still missing
still waiting for breath and some life to be kissing
like the girl in the dream that I had last night
she was strange and deranged but left me feeling so light
my heart heavy with thought as I search and wonder
mind displaying and betraying all the secrets I ponder
my deliberations in the morning will be of life and reward
instead of reality, a life I cant afford
not that I couldn't get it, I mean I could If I tried, and I would if I
thought these gentle visions were really such a bad ride,
like the truth in your eye, shows you know I never lied, until the day I
came to you for help and got denied.
still
Circle entities leave me feeling left out
out of time out of rhyme with no feelings of sublime
why when caring gets involved are the walls brought up and who complains in
the rain if the suns still out?
I been dancing round in my head for a day and three nights
dissecting and rejecting looking for the cause of these fights
the flights from reality, my mind just one fatality, not worried bout
punctuality, the truth in its totality
Is what I got to find when I do I'll bind it to my brain
all these fools looking at me askin "is he insane?
does he pick a lane, or swerve from left to right?" tryin to do it all
mindful of police and stop lights.
stoppin school yard fights, up all night in search of new heights,
picked on by big dogs with loud barks and harsh bites,
Could I be the one in the alley shootin smack?
more likely the shy and sober one standin in the back
thats the way I play cuz all around me
got the pale imaginations of a crazy monkey,
always seems to be one guy who's convinced im a junky
sorry to disappoint I'm just a bored student flunky.
Circle entities leave me feeling left out
out of time out of rhyme with no feelings of sublime
why when caring gets involved are the walls brought up and who complains in
the rain if the suns still out?
*****I wrote this song for the band "Hung: with two johnsons" back in highschool.. the band name was because one of our guitarists name was kevin johnson and we were trying to get his lil sister to play bass for us... but anyway... I wrote this shortly after breaking up with Nikki while in class "writing a paper." I showed it to foulkes who i was back to getting along with and he said "aight," but basically this is my life in highschool. a lot of it is actually frustration with being a "caretaker" but also just realizing that i wouldnt want it any other way despite feeling like it didnt help, or that it didnt make my life easier by any means. I kept feeling like advice I gave got brushed aside and then turned out to be the right advice... but no one ever came back...
oh well its very egotistical.*******
out of time out of rhyme with no feelings of sublime
why when caring gets involved are the walls brought up and who complains in
the rain if the suns still out?
Artistically challenged brought to the form and formality
constantly waiting for a new surface reality
ever emerging, the Earth and the sorrow it bred
ever submerging new thoughts in my head
uplifting the guilt I've been shifting and fitting it into the next womb
who's next to be consumed
ripped through, but danced with
please interact with those feelings you've displaced you brought them to
this place
showed them with your face
its aggressiveness formed from the shape of your brow
and the flared nostrils still wondering how?
get rid of it you don't need but still repeat it end up once again with
everyone gettin cheated and you ask how to beat it?
I already told you once why much I always say things twice?
don't you think a single moment of pure truth should suffice?
but in the end I'm not representing nothin but vice
so I say it with forgiveness and the roll of some new dice
Circle entities leave me feeling left out
out of time out of rhyme with no feelings of sublime
why when caring gets involved are the walls brought up and who complains in
the rain if the suns still out?
I got my cloud my chair but my air is still missing
still waiting for breath and some life to be kissing
like the girl in the dream that I had last night
she was strange and deranged but left me feeling so light
my heart heavy with thought as I search and wonder
mind displaying and betraying all the secrets I ponder
my deliberations in the morning will be of life and reward
instead of reality, a life I cant afford
not that I couldn't get it, I mean I could If I tried, and I would if I
thought these gentle visions were really such a bad ride,
like the truth in your eye, shows you know I never lied, until the day I
came to you for help and got denied.
still
Circle entities leave me feeling left out
out of time out of rhyme with no feelings of sublime
why when caring gets involved are the walls brought up and who complains in
the rain if the suns still out?
I been dancing round in my head for a day and three nights
dissecting and rejecting looking for the cause of these fights
the flights from reality, my mind just one fatality, not worried bout
punctuality, the truth in its totality
Is what I got to find when I do I'll bind it to my brain
all these fools looking at me askin "is he insane?
does he pick a lane, or swerve from left to right?" tryin to do it all
mindful of police and stop lights.
stoppin school yard fights, up all night in search of new heights,
picked on by big dogs with loud barks and harsh bites,
Could I be the one in the alley shootin smack?
more likely the shy and sober one standin in the back
thats the way I play cuz all around me
got the pale imaginations of a crazy monkey,
always seems to be one guy who's convinced im a junky
sorry to disappoint I'm just a bored student flunky.
Circle entities leave me feeling left out
out of time out of rhyme with no feelings of sublime
why when caring gets involved are the walls brought up and who complains in
the rain if the suns still out?
*****I wrote this song for the band "Hung: with two johnsons" back in highschool.. the band name was because one of our guitarists name was kevin johnson and we were trying to get his lil sister to play bass for us... but anyway... I wrote this shortly after breaking up with Nikki while in class "writing a paper." I showed it to foulkes who i was back to getting along with and he said "aight," but basically this is my life in highschool. a lot of it is actually frustration with being a "caretaker" but also just realizing that i wouldnt want it any other way despite feeling like it didnt help, or that it didnt make my life easier by any means. I kept feeling like advice I gave got brushed aside and then turned out to be the right advice... but no one ever came back...
oh well its very egotistical.*******
Apartheid (1999-2000)
In Apartheid he was beaten
Told he wasn’t human
You can guess how he was treated
He didn’t have the power
What was he to do man?
He told me this childhood story
Of what they had him thinking…
He walked up to a white man’s shit
And if it wasn’t stinking
He would taste it
Told it was like honey
Shows what haters do
with money,
And power.
They didn’t let him shower.
They took his friends and beat them,
For doing nothing wrong
This went on for far to long
how can we let em
turn rich country into nothing
raped the land of precious resources
held the people down, with white power forces
guns and tanks, with European sources.
Torture victims scarred for life,
They killed her husband and his wife.
The children grow up broken
Their parents were hung choking
Boiling water enemas
And no one stopped to say
HEY!!!
What you doin there?
Acid may cut hair
But it also burns ya!
And now I meet this great man
Who suffered through it all
And now I meet this great man
Who saw this evil fall
And now I meet this great man
Who turned from hate to heavens call.
****this is about a preacher i met once, who was from south africa, and basically all these things are things he spoke about... about how horrible it was... but also how important it is to forgive and make things better*****
Told he wasn’t human
You can guess how he was treated
He didn’t have the power
What was he to do man?
He told me this childhood story
Of what they had him thinking…
He walked up to a white man’s shit
And if it wasn’t stinking
He would taste it
Told it was like honey
Shows what haters do
with money,
And power.
They didn’t let him shower.
They took his friends and beat them,
For doing nothing wrong
This went on for far to long
how can we let em
turn rich country into nothing
raped the land of precious resources
held the people down, with white power forces
guns and tanks, with European sources.
Torture victims scarred for life,
They killed her husband and his wife.
The children grow up broken
Their parents were hung choking
Boiling water enemas
And no one stopped to say
HEY!!!
What you doin there?
Acid may cut hair
But it also burns ya!
And now I meet this great man
Who suffered through it all
And now I meet this great man
Who saw this evil fall
And now I meet this great man
Who turned from hate to heavens call.
****this is about a preacher i met once, who was from south africa, and basically all these things are things he spoke about... about how horrible it was... but also how important it is to forgive and make things better*****
simplicity (2001-2?)
Simplicity ran around, wild through the streets, lifting her skirt and showing young boys the wonders of nature, then running away before they could leap on it. I suppose in this I both loved and worried about her. Spent constant hours trying to find her in the dead of night, summer and winter alike, putting off piles of homework, studies, and all they said I would need in life just to find her gentle arms. They taught the nature of taming the temptress, progress was her tears, her screams against the slavery the feeling of guilt we would have instilled in her.
"Shame her, disgrace her, watch as she draws ever closer to you in civility and abandons her pagan beliefs. The crow and squirrel drones to the coin, the light of a shiny new car catches the eye of any passing deer. Make simplicity say "dear" to you and you have simplicity caught and bound and never to let go, and the captured bird will be well worth the struggle the fight for her. Buy simplicity a drink but make her sip next to you in the bar, instead of wandering the streets of night. That way you won’t have to worry, wont struggle anymore, won’t find yourself in rage and jealousy won’t find displeasure in the pleasure of those who have chained her. Or spend the night in madness looking for her in the jungle, the alley, the bathroom at the tavern, the couch of your cousin's mate. Spit up your food in Lhasa, Jerusalem, she won’t find your spirituality smooth at all. She finds farming hysterically funny, camping in the woods a mysterious self made hardship. Your fisherman's village and quiet desert town, lose their charm too quick to keep her there long. Your idealism is hell, if happiness is found with her, than make her your whore. Taint and devour, toss when it’s old or less of flavor and buy a new one."
Yet as she dances across the street, this nymph who is so unafraid of yellow taxis. Who's warmth turns each little hair on every man and woman's skin so gently to her, like fall flowers in the sun grasping for one more spring time fling. She with stamina so great all young poets and adventurers have to stop for breath a dozen times during the chase, all to give up for the night, lonely and cold. She who's beauty alone brings joy, and anger, and exhaustion, and pride, and embarrassment, and all the world's feelings combined in a second, who leaves one smiling and crying and frustrated night after night. As I see her escape me again, above all these thoughts and feelings, is the passion the desire to keep going, the urge to live on. In the pleasure of pursuit one can learn to love all the things that give him the strength to pursue. She shows you the life of the world with each passing glance as she guides you through it, her warmth its love, her freedom its true beautiful state.
****this is one of my most shameful and yet one of my favorite things I have ever written. It describes so many things in such a short period.
The influence of patriarchy and feminism, the love of beauty, love, innocence, the desire, the lust, the excitement of adventure, the desire to find the meaning of life, spirituality, everything I love is in this poem…
Its wrapped up in this concept of wanting things to be simple, all the horrible ways they teach us to enslave when all we want is to be at one with this chaotic and beautiful world.
untitled (michelle?) 1999ish?
She always smelled like cigarettes
And I never saw her eat…
But it didn’t bother me (well a little)
Because she radiated warmth
Even in tears
Even in anger
And she was self centered
But no one noticed
Because,
She was a little
Cute puppy
Lost in the alleys
She cuddled
With strange boys
In dark places
But felt no guilt for it
Nor took any, though many tried
They couldn’t rob her of
Anything she hadn’t already had
Ripped away
She brought with her,
Treasures
No one could see…
Though every time she wrote in them or read from them
You could see she was proud of them,
If not proud of herself.
****the spacing on this will probably get screwed up ----this is the second explanation because I think the first one was a little bit too down on her. I guess in hindsight, and in writing this poem I was doing what I always do with people and tried to show the beauty of this girl who tried to be a woman. She was beautiful, I had a huge crush and never wanted anything from it, it was enough to hang out. I realize now in so many ways I was scared of her, scared of that amount of hurt. I was 14-15 and going through my own shit, I could handle my friends and adored my stragglers who everyone gave me shit for…. But this girl I knew was too much… maybe she was a broken caretaker… maybe that’s why I loved and feared her.
But she was beautiful all the same and I wanted everyone to know that they should love her too. This was published in the Mandala my junior year I think, I was on the art staff so I couldn’t have influenced the decision****
And I never saw her eat…
But it didn’t bother me (well a little)
Because she radiated warmth
Even in tears
Even in anger
And she was self centered
But no one noticed
Because,
She was a little
Cute puppy
Lost in the alleys
She cuddled
With strange boys
In dark places
But felt no guilt for it
Nor took any, though many tried
They couldn’t rob her of
Anything she hadn’t already had
Ripped away
She brought with her,
Treasures
No one could see…
Though every time she wrote in them or read from them
You could see she was proud of them,
If not proud of herself.
****the spacing on this will probably get screwed up ----this is the second explanation because I think the first one was a little bit too down on her. I guess in hindsight, and in writing this poem I was doing what I always do with people and tried to show the beauty of this girl who tried to be a woman. She was beautiful, I had a huge crush and never wanted anything from it, it was enough to hang out. I realize now in so many ways I was scared of her, scared of that amount of hurt. I was 14-15 and going through my own shit, I could handle my friends and adored my stragglers who everyone gave me shit for…. But this girl I knew was too much… maybe she was a broken caretaker… maybe that’s why I loved and feared her.
But she was beautiful all the same and I wanted everyone to know that they should love her too. This was published in the Mandala my junior year I think, I was on the art staff so I couldn’t have influenced the decision****
Shame and School Work (2005 fall)
What ridiculous silliness, longing for belonging, clothes shed, no secrets held and parts lost to the fragrance of excited desire, languid strolls though I’ve repent, exhumed the somewhat presumed lack of strength, disgusted meekly given in, finding I’m repugnantly backwards bent, and invitations for reclamation soon find stamps missing, though signed and sealed, the date is un-commissioned and unapproved of, and of shocking disposition, control lacked, to shame submissive, placated derision intellectualized -just in time to grab a book, head off to lecture, lacking: motivation, completed homework and self direction.
secrets (fall 2005)
The secrets she held
wove and strung so
tightly
twisting
winding
the string binding
her breath, her
free range
her stomach
tightened and leather bound
the secrets so intricately wound
her own heart beat the kick of a gun
like
bang Bang BANG BANG!
and with each beat she is frightened again
and with each breath she sucks in and tightens again
and through this trend, stumbles and yearns for a friend
but her hand is cold and numb
and with out feeling,
so she don't believe her eyes and assumes that you lie
her secrets too shy, to release
and so the pressure increases
shakily she stands alone till her trembling
overworked heart
ceases...
***this is just a twisted little image of the things I think about. I wrote it the day I met Alexis actually while i was talking to her(in the way I meet people-as in the day I first had a good conversation with her) but it had nothing to do with what we were talking about. I think the urge, the panic stricken ness of the piece reminds me of Nikki (my first girl friend), the image was just something I had in my head, I think maybe I felt like too many people were wrapped too tight…****
wove and strung so
tightly
twisting
winding
the string binding
her breath, her
free range
her stomach
tightened and leather bound
the secrets so intricately wound
her own heart beat the kick of a gun
like
bang Bang BANG BANG!
and with each beat she is frightened again
and with each breath she sucks in and tightens again
and through this trend, stumbles and yearns for a friend
but her hand is cold and numb
and with out feeling,
so she don't believe her eyes and assumes that you lie
her secrets too shy, to release
and so the pressure increases
shakily she stands alone till her trembling
overworked heart
ceases...
***this is just a twisted little image of the things I think about. I wrote it the day I met Alexis actually while i was talking to her(in the way I meet people-as in the day I first had a good conversation with her) but it had nothing to do with what we were talking about. I think the urge, the panic stricken ness of the piece reminds me of Nikki (my first girl friend), the image was just something I had in my head, I think maybe I felt like too many people were wrapped too tight…****
Siren (2001-2?)
Siren
She sang like the wind howling through dusty mountains
The tone reversed seasons
And shattered the glass walls
Of our eyes
The feeling was cotton candy
and nails
and we consumed
it despite the red of the rust
warm tears of pain flowed freely
No, tears of joy
She was a chamber of
Chaos
And
Forced it through holes
like a hose
Trying to direct a waterfall
The red light of analysis flicked on in us
Disturbing the weak in
The crowd
She ripped the organs from her chest
And gave them to us
The screaming of gentle abuse
The microphone began to choke her
Still she refused to give up
But Dry screams
Die out
*****this is sort of about a certain woman who’s voice I died for, she had that Janice Joplin style give it your all approach, most people couldn’t stand her screams, and for me they were climax. But every night she sang she would lose her voice, and I think in a lot of ways it says a lot about her as a person, and the things she is going through. but I shouldn’t overplay that this is only about her, there are a few musicians who got me through my high school years by doing this, maybe it got them through too.***
She sang like the wind howling through dusty mountains
The tone reversed seasons
And shattered the glass walls
Of our eyes
The feeling was cotton candy
and nails
and we consumed
it despite the red of the rust
warm tears of pain flowed freely
No, tears of joy
She was a chamber of
Chaos
And
Forced it through holes
like a hose
Trying to direct a waterfall
The red light of analysis flicked on in us
Disturbing the weak in
The crowd
She ripped the organs from her chest
And gave them to us
The screaming of gentle abuse
The microphone began to choke her
Still she refused to give up
But Dry screams
Die out
*****this is sort of about a certain woman who’s voice I died for, she had that Janice Joplin style give it your all approach, most people couldn’t stand her screams, and for me they were climax. But every night she sang she would lose her voice, and I think in a lot of ways it says a lot about her as a person, and the things she is going through. but I shouldn’t overplay that this is only about her, there are a few musicians who got me through my high school years by doing this, maybe it got them through too.***
space knife (fall 2005)
The brutal process,
ripping,
thrust
forced expansion
the scream of flesh
of combatting the stretch
and on a smaller scale
like the antarctic snow dunes of the parking lot...
I think it would be possible
to see the creation of a galaxy
space doubling, tripling infinite with each new
stab
and withdrawl
what we call destruction, death
the expression of space dividing and expanding
reaching beyond the encaptured limited form of body
and with each prick, the opening to more
released longing creates the "bang"
with every cut a new universe
****This is not meant to freak anyone out, or entice anyone to do anything possibly harmful to themselves or others, but I got caught up in the idea of a knife, the blade that creates, rather than destroys (maybe too much american psycho*****
ripping,
thrust
forced expansion
the scream of flesh
of combatting the stretch
and on a smaller scale
like the antarctic snow dunes of the parking lot...
I think it would be possible
to see the creation of a galaxy
space doubling, tripling infinite with each new
stab
and withdrawl
what we call destruction, death
the expression of space dividing and expanding
reaching beyond the encaptured limited form of body
and with each prick, the opening to more
released longing creates the "bang"
with every cut a new universe
****This is not meant to freak anyone out, or entice anyone to do anything possibly harmful to themselves or others, but I got caught up in the idea of a knife, the blade that creates, rather than destroys (maybe too much american psycho*****
little town (spring 2006)
Oh little town on a hill,
we have over run your barricades
of shady dealers, sketchy, meager monstrosities, fantastic glow façade with closed curtains
bombarded you again with the sweetness we call freedom
Oh little town on a hill
why does thou allow our unsavory ways?
Oh little town on a hill
sacred and cherished, delightfully lighted
why are your alleys full of hash and coke dealing baddies?
Oh little town on a hill
So distinct with magnificent fury
Wrap yourself in the paint strokes
The piano notes, the mystic made fashionable so long ago
Oh little town on a hill
Have you grown old, accustomed to our banging and brashness?
Have you slept through the days, spent all of your nights ecstatic?
Oh little town on a hill
Your moat seems to fill quick with men
sneaking behind those dark velvet curtains
Oh little town on a hill
I swear it almost got me, but claiming artist I snuck by
And wonder if it’s a lie
Oh little town on a hill
Passion has been your disastrous decadence
Is it still, and is it our will?
Oh little town on a hill
Capped and domed to surmount your mount
We catch glimpses from far off distances and
Dreamt of sacrosanct asylum in your presence
Oh little town on a hill
Forgive a pleasant dreamer,
Smile serenely but don’t hold my squeamish hand
Oh little town on a hill
Your cobbled roads are rag tag riches,
Don’t pay them for the face lift
Oh little town on a hill
Pull bread from your pockets
These bondsmen have our
Precious passes
and we have spent our loot
on your fine wine and grasses
Oh little town on a hill
Is your love as strong and
Would you wrap us in it for we have been walking all day in the rain
and need your calming bisou greetings
Oh little town on a hill
Proclaim once and for all that you are no madam,
neither the whore
And let us in to fool around some more
Oh little town on a hill
In grace, your star burned bright boheme
spill life on to us and our hearts may weep with joy again
***** this is about Montmarte,
a little hill side area of Paris, surrounded by strip clubs and sex stores. Trying to fulfill the hopes and dreams of those seeking bohemia, but not quite making it…too much beat poetry influence... but they do inspire*****
we have over run your barricades
of shady dealers, sketchy, meager monstrosities, fantastic glow façade with closed curtains
bombarded you again with the sweetness we call freedom
Oh little town on a hill
why does thou allow our unsavory ways?
Oh little town on a hill
sacred and cherished, delightfully lighted
why are your alleys full of hash and coke dealing baddies?
Oh little town on a hill
So distinct with magnificent fury
Wrap yourself in the paint strokes
The piano notes, the mystic made fashionable so long ago
Oh little town on a hill
Have you grown old, accustomed to our banging and brashness?
Have you slept through the days, spent all of your nights ecstatic?
Oh little town on a hill
Your moat seems to fill quick with men
sneaking behind those dark velvet curtains
Oh little town on a hill
I swear it almost got me, but claiming artist I snuck by
And wonder if it’s a lie
Oh little town on a hill
Passion has been your disastrous decadence
Is it still, and is it our will?
Oh little town on a hill
Capped and domed to surmount your mount
We catch glimpses from far off distances and
Dreamt of sacrosanct asylum in your presence
Oh little town on a hill
Forgive a pleasant dreamer,
Smile serenely but don’t hold my squeamish hand
Oh little town on a hill
Your cobbled roads are rag tag riches,
Don’t pay them for the face lift
Oh little town on a hill
Pull bread from your pockets
These bondsmen have our
Precious passes
and we have spent our loot
on your fine wine and grasses
Oh little town on a hill
Is your love as strong and
Would you wrap us in it for we have been walking all day in the rain
and need your calming bisou greetings
Oh little town on a hill
Proclaim once and for all that you are no madam,
neither the whore
And let us in to fool around some more
Oh little town on a hill
In grace, your star burned bright boheme
spill life on to us and our hearts may weep with joy again
***** this is about Montmarte,
a little hill side area of Paris, surrounded by strip clubs and sex stores. Trying to fulfill the hopes and dreams of those seeking bohemia, but not quite making it…too much beat poetry influence... but they do inspire*****
too long (2005)
Oh its been too long, singing songs about our where abouts
but not quite knowing about where we’re from,
still giving shout outs.
Placing a significant pressure on our self esteem
Blowing our studies off till we know that we have lost our dreams
Sacrificing self and soul and sound for outer confidence
Placing our pride in piles producing crap
cuz we can’t accomplish shit.
Panic stricken we lose lust for life and start in with the sedatives
Look around, all are down, realize the pain and hurt is relative.
Oh its been too long without a rebound, a sound,
Something to do at the burial mound
Up town, down town west east it’s the same
The places change only cuz we call it by a new name.
Forget the pain girl you been carrying it too long
Sing a new song, change the lyrics and move along
Your soul is in a new position rich vulnerable and delicate
Still holding bricks on your shoulders cuz u think that shit is relevant
Personal style and such aside, we need a new source of pride, ability to bullshit compounded by the fact that I lied,
Pretending were not the same, is a vice a source of shame and if you want my opinion well in laymen’s terms I think its lame
Its been too long since I had something real to talk about
I write to think things through but find that I cant figure these things out
What joy to bring courageously to enhance the setting the table
End up adding imagined circumstance to this already imagined fable
Perplexingly we shout out loud and scream and shoe our security
Duct taping as I go, as if these things were new to me
impunity a guarantee we got purity in need
feeding lies to the sovereign as if we lead
*****there are some sage francis lines in here, basically this was an attempt to write when I wasn’t feeling good but couldn’t think up anything to write about.
A break down: most of the first paragraph is about being down and not wanting to do anything to the point where it gets worse and worse, and part of the reason it gets worse is because we are afraid to work through it, but then when we do (especially when with others) we realize that we are all going through the same things.
The second paragraph is about what I was going through at the time, and wanting things to be better.
The third is about my struggle to put things together.. when im down, I tend to pretend that im still good, and can help people but when im truly down im incredibly lost.. at the same time I always feel fake when im down, because I often know why and cant change it, so I feel like im faking life at the time… as far as the last few lines they don’t fit and I don’t know why they are there. Except maybe that I felt like I was trying to help people who seemed a lot more put together than I felt.
but not quite knowing about where we’re from,
still giving shout outs.
Placing a significant pressure on our self esteem
Blowing our studies off till we know that we have lost our dreams
Sacrificing self and soul and sound for outer confidence
Placing our pride in piles producing crap
cuz we can’t accomplish shit.
Panic stricken we lose lust for life and start in with the sedatives
Look around, all are down, realize the pain and hurt is relative.
Oh its been too long without a rebound, a sound,
Something to do at the burial mound
Up town, down town west east it’s the same
The places change only cuz we call it by a new name.
Forget the pain girl you been carrying it too long
Sing a new song, change the lyrics and move along
Your soul is in a new position rich vulnerable and delicate
Still holding bricks on your shoulders cuz u think that shit is relevant
Personal style and such aside, we need a new source of pride, ability to bullshit compounded by the fact that I lied,
Pretending were not the same, is a vice a source of shame and if you want my opinion well in laymen’s terms I think its lame
Its been too long since I had something real to talk about
I write to think things through but find that I cant figure these things out
What joy to bring courageously to enhance the setting the table
End up adding imagined circumstance to this already imagined fable
Perplexingly we shout out loud and scream and shoe our security
Duct taping as I go, as if these things were new to me
impunity a guarantee we got purity in need
feeding lies to the sovereign as if we lead
*****there are some sage francis lines in here, basically this was an attempt to write when I wasn’t feeling good but couldn’t think up anything to write about.
A break down: most of the first paragraph is about being down and not wanting to do anything to the point where it gets worse and worse, and part of the reason it gets worse is because we are afraid to work through it, but then when we do (especially when with others) we realize that we are all going through the same things.
The second paragraph is about what I was going through at the time, and wanting things to be better.
The third is about my struggle to put things together.. when im down, I tend to pretend that im still good, and can help people but when im truly down im incredibly lost.. at the same time I always feel fake when im down, because I often know why and cant change it, so I feel like im faking life at the time… as far as the last few lines they don’t fit and I don’t know why they are there. Except maybe that I felt like I was trying to help people who seemed a lot more put together than I felt.
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