EvErYwHeRe n’ EvErYtHiNg

this writing has scheduled me captive
a release of this feeling, caging me adaptive :
to all of the colors of misery left to display.
(you can expect nursery rhymes, idioms, and fantasy – hooray!)
these tones and fixtures dressing my shadows are compromised by a flaunting spark.
it flickers like a flame 
but the accountancy checks, marks?
are signed by a fraudulent name!
to what end does this despair carry?
unspoken abbreviations which can no longer tarry…
the marriage of the dichotomy between liquid and gas
prompts offspring of the physical and spiritual heir to come to past.

 

everywhere, n’ everything started to sing
people, places, n’ ideas, signaled a RING!
a chance to be answered by sweaty and out of breath dancers – fancying the occasion, to respond to this decadent persuasion. in which all NOUNS had to recite their lines, up beat, crushed, & entwined !

but,
instead of facing the consequences truly,
their cowardice became unruly.
outside of the inside and around the down and found – traveling at a speed where their nebula can reach before the flashlight could click. 
right before, my feet met slick
like an x – rated flick
now there’s a drip
providing a spiral confession
wherein this tale reads as my succession
everybody readily ‘revels’ at the bounce.
a party filled with jello and colorful hellos.
it would be seen as circumstantial- to not undress and dismantle.
so here’s to the cutting – right to the chase – windows perplexed and mirrors gone to waste. 
a price of vanity, is an impending transaction.
these muscular trophies, have been attained through repetitive tension.
filled with cyclical-calendar-commitments-reimbursing-the-worked out-pension.
here are a few, (commitments) which make due :
turtles n’ gloves.
rubrics n; doves. 
magic and mind.
candy at influx with rhyme. 
calories and added fat. mistakes and cute cats. soothing the reminder of yesteryear, reminding very clear as to what it means to be free.
a collective university
wherein the masses accompany 
– in struggle and in harmony!

for..

many are displaced.
figuring out what caused their mind to go ace. stricken from the eyespassionate lullabies.
tread with light feet.
colorful slides? mesmerized!
roasted junctions in heat as the sun turns to direction of the west
a light recurs to test!
a bedazzling agent provocateur,
inviting lace scented webs stringed to allure.

shall i continue or go on?
back when, n’ again…

everywhere, n’ everything started to sing
people, places, n’ ideas, signaled a THING!

singing tunes of the clown and a smile that became a frown!
not all answers went down.
some went around.
others came to only fly.
i could try.
but i can’t explain the withering refrain

for..

the pedigree of my registry
left me aligned with a succulent pleasantry 
i’m hungry cuz my motions have been left starved
as structures became carved
medicine was then pulverized
to escape the large n’ embodied surprise 
cuz that pill? was built ill!

everywhere, n’ everything started to sing
people, places, n’ ideas, signaled a RING!

HISTORICAL FACT*

it is a historical fact! that the story has been played like an act !
there’s indeed a synopsis and sequel  …
but the characters and setting are not equal !

troubled is the fragrance that left me stained
reminded, tossed, inactive remains? spiked n’ chained !
i wish to train the cross left for me to bear
the markers are legislated : docile and unfair

it is a historical fact! that the lines are studied, written, & tracked!
there’s indeed a subject and plot …
but the producer failed at hiring the director’s slot !

whose forrest is being destroyed and whose lawn is in need of finely cut grass?
besides the mercenaries who only seek to exploit the working class?
BUT we’re kicking the glass so that it may fall
for this sound is a recall
that the shattering deposition of restricting forces may withstand even within an arid and calloused land/hand

it is a historical fact! that the story has been cracked!
there’s indeed hammers, screws, and drills ….
but the complex is yet incomplete, exempt from all the thrills!

we’re pumped y’all! ! 
cuz we’ve already been captured by a blood sucking thief
thus, certainly there’s no peace of mind or bodily relief
when in war – one can not simply refuse the score
only until the pedals and bullets are scattered on the floor
will the meaning of such sacrifice bum-rush the door

it is a historical fact! that the story has been stacked!
one coming in after the other, now the room is packed!
there’s indeed a selling point and central theme
one in which may create a distraction or a humorous meme ….

ScRiBbLe dRriBbLe…

turn on the lights!
escaping my window frame is a horizontal gaze,
extending itself onto a perpendicular praise.
the numbers outweigh
the substance and sway.
tho ‘the dough’ is rolling on by cylinder finesse.
by wood crafting, but the ghost of sawdust is no mans fool.
this tool,
is blunt with dull edges, yet it does chop.
from bharal to
bunny hop –
distance merely invites a motion or silent still
both of which can move a mountainous hill
further above, beyond and predictably ahead….
inquiring neighbors lounge, the graveyard of the dead.
though, the sprinkler system alarms the yawn to spawn a reactive measure,
set adjacent to the milk, honey, & pleasure
it is by outdated refrain,
i have foreseen the capable and much needed dream.
by neon surprise, this sleep has counted my weary and western eyes – however, the food has expired where there are now fruit flies.
sweet and stingy cuz i’ve survived the reaction which reckons with pickup and sorted decay. awakening my languid latitudes by drifting with the longitudes which have left me fed as prey.
yes, my hostage is hostile and unkept
by stratified emotions in which Jesus Wept.

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aLl Of My ScRiBbLeS???

dRriBbLe !!!!
through the language of many sounds.
echoes and whispers which arouse my ears with devotional candles and incense.
assuring a moving dissipation to condense.
i’m drawn with a holy supplication – errors now joined with practiced theory.
So what if : the marks of progress are torn by eternal struggle and engulfed dreary?
the ancestors have empowered me to soften my hands to their stone – the vow is kept and made home,
despite imperialist forces set to cast us alone.
the work continues to service my spirit ready for war. hands and feet, thickly covered with blood and tar. safeguarded by tactical drones and made stable by a dichotomized satellite
we shall soon gain our second sight !
bringing the masses closer to liberty and peace
the awakening bells provide a feast
wherein all fears and inhibitions can surcease !

c3L3bRaT3, DiSrAt3!!!

i’m distracted by an invisible, obscene light! it’s beams have blinded my flight, my knees encapsulated very tight, as to not refuse this surrender in near sight. historically, the scenes have been rewritten by bourgeois state, propaganda page – it is of this unprecedented age – wherein our search for truth, has lost its REASON. yet, others mention : ‘tis the SEASON!

 

&…as much as i can appreciate ‘ALL OF THE LIGHTS’ which come with this very spirit and time, unfortunately the cookies and sweetness do not adequately rhyme. my *c3l3bration* is displaced _ for the pages have been spoiled through revisionist stains, an aroma so abhorrent it confuses your BRAIN!

they got you SOLD, through mere packaging and characters TOLD. Santa or Jesus come quickly, for the time is nigh! what stands to reckon with the shoulder and thigh? most of everybody seems to reside on the ‘merry fairy’ – hands full, chugging with a chug of hot cocoa and cider! they got their stockings full with Rudolph on call, if ever they’re in need of a rider. meats, staggering eyes, and holiday cheer! for ‘Christmas and ‘Knew’ is often wrapped as ‘The Most Holy Time of the Year’.

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but i’m feeling distant and enclosed, like an envelope that never reached across the shore. up and around with star clouds circling rain, crowning promises with heights capable of steady gain. stretched from bone to rock – appealing for breathable fiction to arise and flock. gathering clusters of ancient and mystical craze // finding delight in sensory history – wedged between mushroom and daisy blistery. according to a will that’s real and not faint. one couldn’t paint this taint through lecture of structure but by a compelling deal. which is what’s real. real as in real ISOLATION _ dislocated memories rewritten by highjacked and embezzled CONSTELLATIONS.

it’s been in the works for a long time! forgotten is the said formulation of demonstrable protest and awakening. narratives are then created to depict a revisionist herstory. changing the form from body to glory : extinguishing the spirit and orchestrating the story, thus leaving the remnants of this TALE – engaged in dichotomy, fought tooth and nail. with the essences of all that is taught and unlearned : i request of the guest of my soul – a quest that may reimburse the TOLL. for my mercies have been SPENT, bruised and hidden from the ears in where my whispers could VENT. 

 

for : the veil has been torn but also worn. through the mention of its appearance, you’re soon subject to its absurd adherence. we wear *with despair’ all of which, spontaneously comes our way. it is with this notion, that we fluctuate and dismay. but are we tempted to disguise – what may be left to surrender or arise? from out of the dark, hallow, and encrusted flame, our integrity is sentenced to return to a place where there’s no name. it rhymes with real but it’s not a shady deal. tho, invisibly embodied as spirit and intention, there is no mention – of the friction and tension – of the thin sheet which misplaces ones attention.
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N2021 – for 3 months, I shall rewind from Z 2 A and i must say: what was already said, remained laid – bare and uncovered on my bed. words which were misplaced and spoken and saved as a lifeline, have now been forged by the consequential flame of a spoiled vine – one that can be followed through***- one that can be played AHEAD. if you follow along, the buttons will connect with embroidery THREAD. so follow along with me from Z 2 A – many more animations and symbols to display!

010321 URISOPC RUISOPC

**** RUISOPC 3 MONTHS (3,7,10,14,17,21,28) // sunday’s, wednesday’s,saturday’s // instagram live, twitter, twitch, youtube, str3aming s3rvic3s, 3tc…***
UP UNTIL ‘URISOPC’ is released!

PERSONALLY, O B V I O U S L Y

have you ever heard the story of the PERSONALLY’s? OBVIOUSLY, they belonged to a PERSON who did not POSSESS their belongings UnLeSs – stored inside of their purse!

some regarded the chapters WoRThLeSs as their VeRSeS were viewed as stringent cUrSes…nonetheless it did not fancy the PERSONALLY’s much at all. for OBVIOUSLY they were rarely, if ever oFfEnDeD – for their lives were only aTtEnDED – by what laid inside of their PuRsE. miscellaneous objects which would often quench the ThRiSt – of anyone suddenly in ‘NeEd‘ one could OBVIOUSLY always find a prediction worthy of sTeEd, with the PERSONALLY’s.

for PERSONALLY it would seem OBVIOUS – that the oblivion which guided their FaCeS – were blessings extended by insightful GrAcEs – a searching hand inside of their pUrSe! could they be looking for a nUrSe? or a rhyme with signature FlAvOr? one that others could not contest but sAvOr! notwithstanding, the PERSONALLY’s OBVIOUSLY made their purses cLuTcH – preferring to go dUtCh instead of paying one BilL. (*this indeed gave them time to KiLl)112820 PO

Pursesonally? Obviously!
it was not that the PERSONALLY’s were so OBVIOUSLY ChEaP! but they could not afford to lEaP – too far of a distance worthy that could KeEp – their essentials next to them at all TiMeS! if their arms could not reach inside of their purse // they felt they’d be certainly committing cRiMeS! the PERSONALLY’s held many animations to DiSpLaYOBVIOUSLY the privacy of such collection did not always rElaY.

folks still trying to figure out what exactly was contained in the PERSONALLY’s PURSE? well, OBVIOUSLY: that’s PERSONAL.

p.s

this is also dedicated to Moon Child, she and eye are often ALWAYS PERSONALLY or OBVIOUSLY something : D

FiReBlOwnWhEnwInDaScEnDeD

HERE IS NOT OVER THERE BUT FOR NOW – ENJOY: A FLAME COMES AND THEN BLOWN!

when crying a river, fountain, and sea – I began to seize : the fire here and then no longer.

35 mo’ days until ?! + // – : i’m excited to unfold from Z to A! that means – expansion and reduction. it’s as E-Z as the sir, who came but as to come! no longer rigged but trigged by the finger which flicked off the notion // now i serenade oceans! Calculators come free!

P.S

BLESSINGS TO Sananda Maitreya – THIS was done in celebration of his music and rhyme flow. He is never short of inspiring and flowing free!

R I G G E D CIRCLE

the dice? LOADED! the formula? CODED!

the GPS has been glitched – unable to be stitched cuz there’s no Urkel to solve the circle!

I guess you can say that STEVE wanted to LEAVE…

Jester.Model

UrKeL WhO?!?!?!?

but could KNOT because the circle was programmed, all along – to be wrong.

the DonKEY spoke through numbers – now the Kong must prolong – the intended congregational song :

the cIrCle HAS BEEN rigged!

TRIGGED BY THE FINGER THAT FLICKED OFF THE NOTION TO HOLDING THE GUN!

now we all can’t help but repeat and run – around the circumference locked in a LOOP.

our basket balls must attempt to SHOOT – but it is necessary for them to lAnD!

otherwise – an alien and encrypted HaND may select the defense, bypassing the aim to fRaMe!

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360 is the nAmE : of the rootless caricature, known as repetitive and outdated ReTuRnS!

Sickening all of the avenues, streets, and boulevards as our wheels run a fever featuring 4th degree bUrNs!

by – hook and crook the sir as it were – came but as to come – for again programmed, hEnCe – the circumference was no less DeNsE.

one can wash and lather but must also RiNsE 
like a LOAD inside of the washing machine 

it went over & over

& on and on

& again & again
as
when, wind wishes to suspend, but can only flow and ascend

it’s been told now and way back then : the system is all a RIG! 

didn’t the shovel hear the message from the shoulder which jolted and screamed : DIG!

but like a zag – it must also ZIG!

so what is the recurring case of this circular FIG?

with no redeemable function and incongruously sunken loose ShApEs…

the vines that remain : produce neither streamline or fine wine, but those of spoiled gRaPeS???

QUEEN H Y P O T H E T I C A L

these two poems are collaborative efforts : the first portion was created by the one and only Sylina Black! she’s a favorite writer of mine *not to mention – PERSON and best friend!* she managed to come up with this in very little time. she stirred the motions in the little information I gave her outside of the title. It flowed and struck a match to the very fire I needed to bring out the rest. may you find something of merit and thought from it. 

 

In a lone world
Where the whole world
Is not the sole world,
Queen Hypothetical reigns supreme.
A land where fantasy meets reality,
Queen Hypothetical is allowed to dream.
And in those dreams, creation fills a void otherwise unmet,
What if’s and possibilities run free, unrestricted, solely for the Queen, and yet,
In this lone world there lived a young duke ,
Who would not allow possibility to go unexplored.
He would not allow anyone to suffocate his dreams, no Queen nor King, Lady or Lord.
Day and night he’d dream, sharing his adventures with no one,
Fully aware of what the Queen had done.
Traipsing through the land that the Queen had called her own.
He found that in this land, the what if’s had only grown.
In love with the power of creation,
The ability to imagine if things happened only the way she’d seen,
Queen hypothetical outlawed exploration of the dream –
Barring her subjects from visiting.

– Sylina Denise

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lashes as long as the century, some of them fell into the penitentiary!

for what is the worth of a memory, which longs to be retrieved?

the profoundness of that experience, is what causes lamentation to the bereaved !

her eye lashes were as long as the century!

*jailing her hair cells into a penitentiary!*

that’s a hunnit (not a hundred – a hunnit!) years – of lashes and flashes!

for, many of her hair strains , would often and randomly fall into her eye.

thereby, prompting her brain to spy.

for she needed to remove the burning itch inside.

she knew she had to enlarge her pupils far and wide!

she by blinking – always made sure her subjects never stopped thinking!

day by day – swaying throughout the Winter and May.

for every season, she remained with a reason.

Queen Hypothetical or King Heretical?

The measures of possibility drawn – excites the spawn to yawn.

when it comes to kings, queens, and everything in between – the state of royalty can begin to be seen:

indifference is now made ‘qualified’ by the subjugation of the rulers of this nation.

rulers which set measurements of potential realized fiction!

though the lines appear straight, the path of least resistance is not too shy from affliction.

a hypothetical equation? may fancy a decadent persuasion!

can one still crumble as the words falter and begin to mumble?

endless are the seas that begin with the question!

for the search is indeed dressed as ‘HYPE’ and the aesthetics of every queen, king, and everything in between is worn through every impression.

queen hypothetical makes expression, the lesson of any and every imagined possibility.

this may serve to remove us from the gaze of docility.

juice n’ serenade

my, my, my & mercy me : the wind has blown through the branches of her sugar maple tree!

her fruit asking for a squeeze honoring my appetite with many more sonnets to please.

that’s my honey & ohh how she drips leaving sticky notes fastened to her perfumed flavored hips.

she got the juice! n’ i? the serenade! the kind of cut that spreads marmalade, on a switch blade.

a cut not too kind but one that resembles a portrait in your mind.

a picture contesting to be wrapped by fruits glow one that does not concentrate for too long or pretend to know.

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instead, the wish of this blossom cherry berry, is to be held by an airy and charmed fairy.

one that is dime sized and incredibly scary.

frightful for even as angels guard & protect they have a head, displaying many frightful faces.

after traveling too many narrow and wide unknown spaces.

these angels demand: that we not rise in fearalthough the writing is on the wall, the pen did not call.

no, instead it flowed through the ink of my tears.

swelling deeply into the vessels of my fears.

these tear drops commanded that we come near:

to hear a word that can be seen and made more clear.

ENDEARED, we are beloved by the moving motions REVERED.

now :

i can’t help but sing and groove, for her juice has moved all my senses – her taste renewing my lenses.

to her, i must – serenade.

all of my typos? now outweighed!

by her honey shade & succulent blade !

KNOWLEDGE BY FLOATING // MARSHMALLOW OF CONFUSION

for all that can be known – floating seems to be the only option when you’re in the sea of interrogatives. you’ll never land because there is no seat in the game of life. ain’t no couch or love seat. there is only ascension to go higher. when you start to read about the rules of the game, if you’re taking the game serious, you’ll be motivated to change your tactics and plan.

knowledge is a tool and one that is given to us freely if we open our hands. the state of knowing is a process, but it is what you do with the knowledge which transforms your state of being. the key to swimming is floating but to do this you must be comfortable with the water. i was afraid of water since childhood, because i had a few occasions where i nearly drowned. i would float on poor floatation devices and always landed in the water struggling for air.

it was Bruce Lee who said: “Be like water, my friend.” 

water flows and water goes // where? who knows! 

the idea of being settled in certainty can be very demanding. as water keeps going and flowing – an eternal destination can seem confining. it’s commonly accepted that knowledge is power, and power should be fun! superheroes are fascinating and appealing because of the special ability they have which transcends the barriers we are commonly subjected to. superheroes can fly. blast into a sudden telekinesis. become invisible for a spell.

this is power. power endowed to them with the strength to defeat whatever may come their way. yet, something this powerful can’t be taken too seriously. it must also be fun. although, when having too much fun, people tend to think you can’t possibly be serious as well. why is this? why can’t we have fun and maintain knowledge at the same time? when i found this new wave of knowledge of floating people started to think i lacked morals and principles. i’d constantly be told that people were praying for me because i lost my way.

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every school of thought has their own perimeters with their specific laws, uniforms, and ethics. even those who profess ‘free thought’ still seem to have a rubric about how free your thinking can go. as free as i believed myself to be – i still restrained myself and put on a different uniform of thought. how different can we be when we still borrow the same tools our ancestors have passed down to us? a change of course can appear as life changing if you never gave it much thought previously. 

Yet, the knowledge of something new doesn’t always guarantee that you’ll stay above the water. While we get out of one box, we place ourselves in another. i have now come to accept that it’s not that we don’t like boxes, we just prefer the boxes WE put ourselves in. If we’re comfortable and content that’s all that matters.

at least, up until the point when we thirst for something new and driven to irritability because it’s tew much!when you come to some uncongenial truths, everything slowly starts to change. This can be an uncomfortable truth. probably a bit more uncomfortable than the results that proved to be of the nature that you preferred.

to be misunderstood or even challenged doesn’t have to mean our demise. if we are all encrypted with a special combination of sorts – whose job is it to understand the key? how can a computer know which mode to follow if it did not make the individual choice to respond to the code already established? When you discover life is more nuanced and complex than you believed – you think of all the people you judged and made responsible through your ignorance and misinformation.

maybe they’re floating on a marshmallow cloud? when one can see what they once were – judgement tames like a saucer in the waters. floating because you’ve been filled WIDTH measures beyond what they can see!

while growing up, my grandmother always had a bag of marshmallows around the house. (just because she knew how much i loved them) i could eat a whole bag in a one setting. she taught me how to make rice crispy treats with them. i never quite gave up my fascination for the comfort of a marshmallow! i loved how soft and buoyant they were! they were comfortable and tasty. it’s the one of the only things we can eat that resembles a cloud. much like how marshmallows are capable of resonating with our humor. i crack myself up! nobody gets it but me usually. some say it’s my wit others just think i’m confused. when drawn to the absurd of reason – i find a mellow seat. confused only as it relates to knowledge and where i could potentially go…

 

here we are: resting on a marshmallow puff of confusion. a pretzel cloud resembling animalized reality and dystopian illusion…

At the heart of confusion tends to be a yearning for the heart to understand what created it in the first place. When you know, you take that knowledge and ultimately create a path towards understanding and then applying that said knowledge. But we already knew that as I’ve already repeated various things by only changing the dress. The tailor remains the same, but different kinds of fabrics, colors, accessories and details add a whole new approach. If already at this point it appears to have gotten redundant because of the same things being said differently – don’t wallow in your confusion. Eat a marshmallow by the fire and get comfortable. If there’s no fire, get comfortable wherever you see fit and allow this comfort to hit the acceptable target of your desires.

O D D L Y SPECIFIC

1. there’s what is obvious and then there’s what’s true – both of which rely, on a perceived notion: according, to many and thereby just an ocean!

2. + it’s very pacific – beaucoup water be overfilling the glass, kicking all the beaches and lakes ass! i’m talking about one that has a name but nothing short of terrific! could i make it even more oddly specific?!

3. once eye saw a pink rhinoceros reading a thesaurus! i asked : why not read the dictionary instead? “cuz decaying definitions are less savory than cinnamon synonyms + reading for too long is a double dread for my nose-horned head!

4. if you ant’ red? you dead! ya heard what i said?” if not, life will seem desperately more horrific revelation and elevation, evolving more and more into something that’s oddly specific!

5. ant’ you socialist?’ i’m balling up my fist if you ant’ get my gist!

ant’ you working to bring that plate to everybody’s table?! *you are most certainly able!* hoarding and controlling the goods for a select few – ant’ ever make any one’s due! get a clue!

 

6. IF YOU AN’T READINGYOU’RE SPEEDING but without a fluorescent END. may your eyes absorb this message and TRANSCEND.

7. This is not a message intending to be weighty or prolific – i aim only to move you closer to something more or less oddly specific!

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rhinos and ants read the thesaurus for better understanding…

8. specifically odd but also allowing the heart to nod – to something a bit irregular and somnific.

9. could this sleep allow us to dream? *if by only writing it down we may learn from the rip in the SEAM!*

10. a split honoring our freshly exposed skin – this follows through to a remedy, which could make one perplexed, disturbed, or cause an odd grin.

WHEN MARBLE FELL FREE AND WHEN 3 FEELS GOOD TO ME

“excuse me…but i gotta retrieve what’s FALLEN. tho, i never assumed the marble was signed up to be ALL IN! *at least not in those POCKETS! after all – what’s adding fuel to accelerate or suspend those ROCKETS?* the most shocking, is how hard it SLAMMED on to the concrete FLOOR – it stopped rolling, only after hitting the DOOR. it is of no wonder, the mirrored marble continually marveled; all of those who held true – the SPHERICAL WONDER which confessed : “the only way out is THROUGH! through the rage of wonder.
through the calming thunder.
through it all.
through the answer and call.

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whoaaaa!!!! is that ^^^ a lot? YES IT IS! one filled with luxury and used vehicles. the price tag depends on the mileage. if i buy a lemon – i may make lemonade, though at the expense of a soon to be regretful serenade. the stench and acidity would be the catalyst – in the courtroom of the lavish and cupidity. the colors present themselves as RED, WHITE, and GRAY. could it be to perceptions DISMAY – that all the other colors have faded ASTRAY? what is it about 3 & why does it feel good to me? some have claimed: this number is a lucky charm! others have stated, this being the reason it’s on my right shoulder, and left arm!

3 is resounding it has brought me here. where I am sharing a poem that came about by not so random circumstance. I used the word ‘Spherical’ earlier which reminded me of a cassette tape I created 7 years ago called ‘Spherical Wonder’.

A7C2809A-F224-4813-8857-C689E859517A
recorded mid march 2013

– it just so happens that I was able to retrieve the original poem never shared before until now for your reading pleasure. may it encourage you to know you very well being in the many but one planet of ours. we need not settle for less – the stars know us and when we look into them we witness springs…

Sometimes I Wonder where the fountain comes from? Its springs are mountains of passion which fully entertain the dimensions of great magnitude! What has become of the nature of the stars? as they shine very brightly in the night. I know that their smile is bright; because they have seen your composition. Even from afar, these stars have focused their light in the direction of your silhouette. This burning grows and intensifies as you dance around the platform of your most daunting ambitions. My smile is aroused by your indulgence of your most immediate desire. Spherical orbits are here reflecting our massive platform of where we stand. we are placed in the niche of circular fantasy. Our globe is now massive around the flow of our fingers.

W.T.G.2.D.W.M?!

*this conversation may or may not have ever taken PLACE. the fact that it happened – makes the opinion often trade its FACE. for a reactive MOUTH or a revolution which can’t go SOUTH. even tho, here is not over there, what follows beyond THIS or THAT – : is a hello or goodbye, in need of vacuuming underneath the mat!

but, what that got to do with me! said the one who was already filled, width measures beyond what they could SEE! everything and nothing replied BACK, the concerned one after just complaining about their missing needles in a STACK. “i’m carrying all these stones, pillars, and WEIGHT – at the very least: you could offer to unload my package and take me out on a DATE. instead you choose : to WAIT, and now i fear, you’ve settled on doing nothing, as your FATE. can’t you see i’m HURT – i ain’t get this far to be played like dirt and a FIDDLE, i suppose all along you wanted me to solve your RIDDLE. how silly was i? silly enough to not hire a private SPY – to PEEK at just how many faucets you allow to LEAK. if i were you – i’d realize that maroon EMPATHY is a grace afforded to those with SYMPATHY. you don’t even bother to CARE – you’re sitting in the lazy CHAIR. or should i say : lazy BOY – all you do is polish your TOYS. it’s fudged up! but that’s the usual coming from somebody like YOU……………..

hello!

did i get THROUGH?

yes you did but if you were any more LOUD, you’d excite thunder from my CLOUD! I stand barely AWARE of what it’s like wrestling with a BEAR! you ask me – could I CARE? well, my concern has never been so much of the MATTER – my lassitude is only getting FATTER. why, you PRESUME? cuz – I gotta ZOOM! ZOOM! ZOOM! in your ROOM! ROOM! ROOM! (it’s like BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!) all the freaking TIME! if only you could spare your 20 nickels for 10 DIMES! you crack a lame joke but still be asking me to LAUGH – demoting me here where you’ve sacrificed me as a golden CALF! YOU COULD HAVE JUST, SPLIT it IN HALF! a base and STRING, even when the phone does not always RING. i am expected to call and to talk but what more can I say? I have been beaten & preyed, across your desert SEA – BUT, WHAT THAT GOT TO DO WITH me!

081420 WTG2DWM
BuT WhAt tHaT gOt 2 dO wItH mE?!

you  SEIZE (C) – THIS very thing —-> THAT is belonging to ALL belongs to NO 1. it’s like when, wind shows up right behind each other in a sentence, only the ‘D’ is silent in the latter. “when” shares a close fellowship with “ever” but this spoils “anything” from ever arriving on the scene, if there is no clear distinction of timing. the difference in yours and mine, is perception of that said thing. it’s very much yours and mines – it’s ours! however, hours and seconds couldn’t be further from each other but still, they’re united both one and the same! we are connected to the grand zer0, all of the substantive numbers are now made a hero! just because the invisible n0thing stands on their side! ain’t that enough to make your mind open WIDE?! Thus, there is company in ALL AND NONE ! WE : *THOUGH AT ODDS IN THE RAGING SEA* can’t help but ask EVENTUALLY : BUT WHAT THAT GOT 2 DO WITH me!

THE PARABLE OF JARGON M’BELLISH

when you’re lonely – you’ll search every languid hall for an expired season – bumping into the very reason, which provide no alibi…only treason! as i walked astray, i’ve beaten up the innocent and have accused the elderly fray.

this is a transition, which leaves me on a mission to find the utility. i contemplate whether i should continually swallow, this pill of lonesome arrival?

the system has not yet processed, the last byte of sand that’s been witched! my digital frame belongs to a name, not remembered or savored by fame. although, some scream loudly and capture with fallacious print and distorted light. my feet returns to the outdated announced fight.

here it goes again! wher3? over there – just a little closer to the edge, where i’m already hung up over the ledge. the overwhelming plea of this frequent Kabuki theatre, sends worms onto Shakespeare’s SKIN. the mere speech from these actors, makes the mind THIN!

it’s TEW MUCH! a stew rush! the bowl is full and the servings are plentiful but if i eat any more slowly, it’ll grow cold. a flavor equating to mold, cuz the code is just THAT grotesque. your tongue guaranteeing the taste of the silver screen burlesque!

when you’re lonely – you’ll sit in the rocking chair covered in a heated sweat, crying.wetting the face, which begins to trace, all of those smiles hung up and broken, into a stubborn place.

angles and angels pas(t) around you with present pretense (the future while *dense*) still bribe the clock to rock according, to a tune that is funky, or one to mock!

when the dreary seas brush you into the mush, which cause you to daydream – flush the stream and entertain the obscene! (LIKE JARGON M’BELLISH) then you will be awakened! to the siren inside your head, the remembrance is enough to awaken the dead.

as spirits of old, wander in search of a body to poke – if your bees start leaving, it’ll soon begin to feel like a joke. hocus pocus! did you look twice or not focus? herein is a story : which wears the dress of the clown, with colors magnified featuring whistles, pizzazz, and bells on your gown!

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On one breezy sunday afternoon, Jargon M’Bellish had a thirst for spirit. before Jargon left their home – they made sure they had the following items on:

  • hot pink n blue boho tunic (with green apple squares on each sleeve.)

  • bright orange gloves with marshmallows stickers threaded onto them.

  • royal purple shade trousers with patches of magazine cut outs, featuring various celebrities.

  • sunglasses with beige fuzziness on the handles!

when, they finally walked out onto the busy downtown street // they presumed critical eyes glancing. they were right! cuz their clothes were so peculiar. *could, Jargon M’Bellish be a distraction to passing pedestrians watching? *one couldn’t readily tell! the presumption thrilled their function. suddenly as if possessed, Jargon M’Bellish jumped 22 times, before spinning in circles, only then proceeding, to kick their right knee in the air and moon walk backwards to their destiny which was only a few blocks away.

*** not long after Jargon M’Bellish was handed their spirits and charms – they suddenly realized they didn’t bring a backpack to hold their spirit. would anyone think of them to be a drunk, while holding the brown paper bag? could that be the explanation for their boisterous behavior previously? would Jargon M’Bellish attempt; such randomized delirium before returning home again? i suppose it depends on the impending desire to be SEEN! ***

cuz when you’re lonely – you’ll scream at every voice thus silencing a life saving choice. again i say, REJOICE! for even, when words are emptied and bleak cities are filled with waste – our feet are scorned to pick up and make haste! : with the time that’s still in the room, although it lives on the ceiling – loneliness steadily pleads for healing.

when we are torn a part but simultaneously structured, our dispositions shake and we remain flustered! our feet must slow down to the yellow mustard! we’ve already stopped at the RED LIGHT, while speeding through GREEN – our vehicles ran out of STEAM.

as one shuffles through the sheets and profiles of the stranger. the destination in front of you, can’t hide from a very imminent danger.

the unusual mystery of the antediluvian tree – yields blurred mirrors screaming :

“DO YOU KNOW me?!”
WHY DO YOU FLEE?
Do YOU kNOW Thee?!”

with much more added text, crippling my speech to rhyme & flex. a formula is needed to graph where this goes next…

The Parable of Jargon M’Bellish is about what it feels like to be lonely.

JARGON = language that is characterized by uncommon or pretentious vocabulary and consulates syntax and often vague in meaning

M’= MYTHOMANE (🦷) – a person with a strong or irresistible propensity for fantasizing or exaggerating

BELLISH = to enhance / beautify (a statement or narrative) with fictitious additions, to ‘ish’ it up!

ELBOW G R E A S E

you gotta work through to abstain the stain!
don’t, elbow refrain! don’t, elbow refrain!

when the smudge fudge is far too tough to LIBERATE – jolt yo’ joints to make the path STRAIGHT!

release yourself from the grit that has spit itself in your FACE – work with the strength guided by the essence of GRACE!

you gotta work through to abstain the stain!
don’t, elbow refrain! don’t, elbow refrain!

you may have to get on your KNEES – cuz spraying disinfectant when too close will make you SNEEZE!

072820 EG
it’s funky when you kick it joint to joint!

SCRUB it UNTIL it FADES AWAY!
SAW it UNTIL it CLAWS ASTRAY!

RUB it THROUGH UNTIL – it CAN NO LONGER SIT STILL!

FIRE it OUT BEFORE – it BEGINS TO FEEL AS A CHORE !

you gotta work through to abstain the stain!
don’t, elbow refrain! don’t, elbow refrain!

lEfT to write ! right to READ! brush to break a part the fat & GREED! UP & DOWN, side to sLiDe – foam through the mix and gLiDe!

take a lease on the GrEaSe – and work to ReLeAsE with no will to ever CeAsE – sauce your elbows and keep the pEaCe !

YOU GOTTA PUT ON SOME ELBOW GREASE!

TONGUE NIGHT

all morning, all day, and all of afternOoN – tons of tongues that night, spoke way too sOoN!

though, we’re a little BeHiNd – our lumpy shadows have tWiNeD!

now the lightning has written in cursive, a shape that’s murky & UnLiNeD!

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“all morning, all day, and all of afternOoN – tons of tongues that night, spoke way too sOoN! though, we’re a little BeHiNd – our lumpy shadows have tWiNeD!”

today : tomorrow, & tongue-night ‘twas trapped ’ to tasting troubling trauma that’s terrified towards trickery ToMbStOnE!

yesterday night, our eyes witnessed which flavors returned to the tongue, some foreign: others? uNkNoWn!

we could only wish to be saved by the already said SpEeCh – our rocky mountain climb could only attempt to rEaCH!

the census have reported which civilians have been robbed of all tenacity and InSiGhT! by reckoning always, the control and misery buried in the fiction of the wHiTe!

forced fed like animals inside of a platinum ZOO – these crumbs were paid for by the authoritarian ran hULlAbAlOo!

it had to be this tongue kNiGhT! the mid-evening militancy empowering swords to FiGhT!

for it was suited & armored with humility, chivalry, and decadent adjacent ClAsS!

‘tis this tongue night which swirls against those vulnerabilities, shattering myriad mirrored gLaSs!

tongue night is the evening in which there’s a twist and ScRaPpLe!

when our sentences are bewitched in a tangled n’ luscious gRaPpLe!

while being whipped into the lash of the word and InTeRpLaY – this tongue tonight undresses the nerve to quietly sTaY!

INSIDE OUT // outside in

this poem is an exchange between and Sylina and I! her writing is of elephant magnitude – in terms of the weight in how it compels me to carry through. you can find many more of her writings here: http://www.4eyesopened.wordpress.com/

All change ain’t good change, and boy have you changed
From the inside out you’ve transformed,
Not much remained the same.
Sure you still look good, you’ve kept yourself up…
But some of your inner beauty has faded, could it be because you lie so much?
Could the change have come about because your principles and morals have gone bad?
Because you’ve cast away the good memories, the good times that you’ve had?
Because I’ve noticed that you focus on the negative, spinning narratives into a new light.
A new light that turns things darker rather than highlighting the bright.
The pessimism doesn’t help to brighten up your smile.
The old one that I truly loved, I haven’t seen it in a while.
This new one exposes jagged teeth and a crooked tongue that flickers when you lie.
Stupid things you wouldn’t need to say, it always leaves me wondering why.
Why do you feel the need to lie to someone who loves you so?
I say loves, not loved because my love for you would never go.
Not away at least
It’s tried to stray, for peace
To get away from the beast you’ve become.
But I know who you really are
I know that change comes again, and that you’re transformation isn’t done.
I’m holding out hope that this next change reminds you of who you are,
And that this transformation is beautification and doesn’t leave any scars.
All change ain’t good change, and boy have you changed, but then again so have I.

i used to think washing clothes from the outside in – would be the sure way to win?
if threads can be exposed from the inside – the crush of the waves would forgive the sin.
at this exact moment it’s hard to know when to play with wrong or right.
we can both take the courage to board this complex flight.
but by then – how could your memory ever forget or know when to remember?
there’s been a disgrace at the surface –
all knots have not been tied by the end.
which ways we fold – creates a fairytale or mystery untold.
when the message came through in a dream, i denied ever living a life full of lies.
eventually, the separated waves birth a crush and brush – these jewels professed such lush!
the magic of this shine – inspired me to reflect this fiery light.
this was only right –
to turn outside right from the inside out –
it fully occurred to me, the duty of the wind blew me
into its invisible but real state.

this is a revolutionized change which bakes the cake without a signature model or make.

– as the truth of this emotion comes around with verifying reflection
times window makes known the view from
the outside in, which comes from within.

just: X’acute!

(here’s a rhyme for the timing of your procrastination whenever it comes around to do something you don’t want to do…JUST-EXECUTE!)

just: X’acute!

when you’ve been holding it in for so long – the PIRATE need not continually get IRATE! the ocean of misfortune has sent WAVES over my promises GRAVE! i am biting off the APPLE of synchronicity’s CHAPEL! who would have ever guessed i’d return back into the mouth of dizzy EMOTION? for i have drank a compromised POTION– i am hardly capable of denying this NOTION!

JuSt: X’aCuTe!

GETTING IT DONE JUST FOR THE FUN! For the mustard green MEMORY // a rising SYMPHONY, is cluttered with risk and calculating UNDERTAKING! this ain’t no fool’s production in the MAKING! you can’t MISTAKE what was designed to correlate to the ACHE! the vision is SOUND by the mercy of your ears INBOUND!

JUST:X’ACUTE!

when our hands have bled – we become HURT! when alienated in our minds – we appear like DIRT! the kind of dirt that magically arrived on your fresh pair of white CHUCKS! you just lost some serious BUCKS! could you be any more HAZY? by your lack of mobility, your insights have curved @ the avenue of LAZY! albeit – the circumstance has spun you out of CONTROL – you’ve casted your ballot in the election POLL! the clearest ITCH removes the sensation and conjures up the WITCH!

jUsT:x;’AcUtE!

ain’t nobody trying to smell the dragons breath. it’s already oiled our CHAINS! how about we pray for the southern REIGNS? cuz we need a BLOW which rhymes with the FLOW! one that is not bound by lock and KEY – but a combination SOLILOQUY! so much for CONVERSATION – we’ve been burdened with emotional EXCLAMATION! feelings and facts both MATTER – for as long as they don’t SHATTER in the FACE of the dystopian ACE!

JUST:X’ACUTE!

070720 JXAC
= JUST? EXECUTE!

‪if the world could be described as CHOCOLATE? we’re FUDGED! the shoulder pleads the hip to NUDGE – our mountains are ran down to CREAM with uniforms and space suits saved for a fables DREAM! we allow window DRESSING, for the benefit of avoiding the real LESSON. a refraction of light missed on the battlefield of a compromised LANDSCAPE! these lonesome roads are filled with potholes and unsolvable SHAPE! if we could really unravel maybe we’d feel the need to X’acute’ – we ain’t gotta be so MEAN – only keen to the revelation OBSCENE!

just: x’acute! 

X the CUTE? Yes! for even when you MUTE – the bankers still LOOT! they give you the big fat BOOT! the finger doesn’t matter as much as the HAND that’s hidden by the obese one in the BAND! some called it the THUMB but it skilled me NUMB! ain’t that DUMB? INDEXED POINTER FINGER WAGGING AROUND THE MIDDLE RING – WHICH SAILS IN THE OCEAN SWING!

JuSt: X’aCuTe!

make a PLAN and make it STAND! write it DOWN! record it change your GOWN! alternate between the zippers and PATCHES  make sure you hold on to those LATCHES! the SCRIBBLE has been DRIBBLED & signed on the back PAGE and therefore the lines are needed – to be recited center and front STAGE!

JUST:X’ACUTE!

mark the BOX – and wear the philosopher’s SOCKS! SPOT THE ACUTE1 AND FLEX WITH YOUR FINEST SUIT!

just: X’acute!

BOOGIE S A L A D

 

NIGH IS THE TIME TO: “GET IT ON WITH THE CRUNCHY LEAVES, BUSHY FLORETS, & MOST OF ALL = THE PRIZED, TOPIARY – VEGETABLE PIE!”

if it’s lives in the SKY – lasso the handles and pull it down with the focus of a BULLS EYE!

 

BOOGIE ON DOWN WITH THE MIX OF SUCH FRUITS, GREENS, AND PROTEIN! 

THIS REFRESHING INTRODUCTION USHERS IN A HEALTHY AND LIVELY SCENE:

RESURRECTED TUNES WHICH HARMONIZE IN MUSHROOM, CARROT, AND PEPPER BELLS! – CAST GROOVY AND FUNKY SPELLS WHILE BUILDING AND REGENERATING CELLS!

MMM-HMMM!

BRUSSELS & CLOVERS SPROUT THROUGH THE BEETS AND PARSLEY GENES!

CILANTRO, ONION, AND BLENDED BEANS !

YUMMY – YUM – YUM!

SALAD FOR THE TUMMY – TUM – TUM!

BUT THIS AIN’T FOR THE MUMMY & CRUMMY ONE!

However for the  joke as it goes – throws us into the kitchen: where the chef was embarrassed cuz his eyes witnessed the salad getting dressed! 

with a flirt skirt made from vinaigrette and herbal concoction :

lettuce thank the garb of this distinguished nutrient carb!

for the law of such slaw is enough to make our money green and our muscles lean!

HAHANHEHE-MF*

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MF*

if you gonna be a HA HA N HEE HEE MF

make sure you reach with the same depth – which called you, when you entered the deep. when you yelled and screamed at the obscene in your dreams! 

MOVE FURTHER

OR ELSE YOU DON’T KNOW SH*T!

you can’t even understand the breath of CONVERSATION.

much less – recognize the different kinds of tracks at the STATION.

you don’t know sh*t.

not all trains are on the same TRACK!

especially since some go forward while others go BACK.

you don’t know sh*t.

before you even listen to what has been said, you didn’t even allow yourself to be FED.

you don’t know sh*t.

FED: THE KNOWLEDGE & INFORMATION NECESSARY TO FORM TECHNIQUE! A SH*T TALKER RELIES ON REACTIONS THAT ARE WEAK.

yeah, you don’t really know sh*t.

yet you think – you know it ALL.

(whispers)

(don’t know sh*t)

yet you: justify your anger for an immediate FALL.

(don’t know sh*t)

yet you: believe you are thinking with your MIND.

(don’t know sh*t)

yet you: are walking BLIND.

(don’t know sh*t)

yet you: camouflage the parts of you – that are ME.

(don’t know sh*t)

this only means we can’t SEE.

HAHA N HEE HE = MOVE FURTHER *

TO ACTIVATE AND DIALECTICALLY ENGAGE WITH MATERIALS- ENABLING AN EVER EXPANDING CONSCIOUSNESS! it’s time to shop for more essentials. how else are we gonna grow? + whose gonna bite off from expired bread and drink the spoiled and chunky milk?
“if you gonna be a HA HA N HEE HEE MF – move further and challenge complicit behavior encouraged by the silence of your laugher. MOVE FURTHER, MOTHER FUCKER!

We have to get there by the silence of our tears. Sadness is a friend of ours. we don’t talk much to our tears as often but we’re gonna have to start inviting those tears to have a stronger communication to us. These tears tell a story that must be heard by the memories that we wanted to bury inside. Our head seeks refuge in the regurgitation of discs that have been scratched. Remembering is a hard deal because life is revived in those sad experiences. Our company is fragile throughout these confrontations. In our youth, we are unaware of the effects it would have on us. Today is payday. Every day we look into the eyes of trauma, we’re coughed with responsibility. we’re paying the toll. It’s worth the investment but we’re not held in any debt. Underneath all of the sadness and anger // unspoken trauma lingers in a dark place.

i’d say one thing we can do as brothers is ALWAYS call out every foul thing we see our brothers do / say. there’s an awful lot of complicity. it’s hidden and a lot of it is either laughed off or justified behind our acceptance of that person. we should discontinue the idea that we need to be told what can we do – when it seems obvious. every appearance of misguided complicity has to be faced for what it is. we have to be willing to really look at ourselves and be willing to hold ourselves and others accountable.

 

POTATO APOLOGIST

061420 PA

the moment is no longer there (it has traveled to here) but the stress knocks on the door. inwardly itching and worrying that the remedy has not arrived. though it has not been so long, the worry is surrounded by the reality of a global pandemic. thus – i hope things get better and they improve. hope things arise like the thunder would in the jungle. we could use an interruption. a lava like lightning – intense enough to overthrow the stagnant itch. the answer to this fire is one that removes the malfunction. hope things are like machinery in the sense that they function correctly. hope that the bugs have gone back to their homes or squished *accidentally*. hope things are as hopeful as you’d have them to be, in a world like this.

FOR SOME HAVE:

fell into a ruthless draw. some being the ones, who could not deal on their own volition. the ones who disconnected and alienated themselves from all of the promises sworn. The concept of G-D became an illuminating paradox. the way up went down. to get one HAD to give. to live one HAD to die. it’s a contrary existence. it seems unlike anything else but is very much the same as the rest. 

“maybe we should rush into the tunnel which has hurt us?” asked those sitting on the couch. they were about as mashed as they could get. “we can become alive through the agony and pain!” said the mashed & injuring fry. these pickings surely pleasured the principle to ruin – facing; the ever so joyful decay!

when suffering deeply – this scorn comes from the contact of the red rose. this crown plush flower stands on a bladed stem. being cut by a tender flinch the question arrived should the spirit in this dress, tempt the mind with a see through camisole?

what happened after this moment – is cut from the same cloth as the bohemian fashionista. this game is set by sophisticated rules and barometers – many of which only settle in quibbling over semantics.

~PAH – TATE 0HH & PAH TAH OHH~

reading through thoughts in comments sections online – quickly demonstrates, how visceral apologies may flow through. it would seem the potato has various destinations of existence. 

if one can find a better explanation to remedy injustice – what invalidates their position? if i’m standing on my side and another is standing on a different point on the map – how do we bridge the gap?

WE LIVE IN A WORLD OF POTATO APOLOGISTS!

a world where we can think of no occasion where potatoes won’t satisfy our taste buds. mashed potatoes. fried potatoes. potato wedges. potatoes baked and loaded. potatoes that are hashed and brown. potatoes roasted with herbs and spices. potatoes panned into a casserole. potatoes molded into a patties. potatoes that make us less crabby. potatoes that are creamy with dill. potatoes complimented with ketchup and all the feels! potato soup! potato chips! potato elves! potato shelves! potato bells!

P – PICKY

O – OILY

T – TOASTY

A – AU GRATIN

T – TATTERED

O – OVEN BAKED

APOLOGISTS !!!

THE GESTURE OF THE EMBLEMATIC

060720 TGOTE

the gesture of the emblematic – pleads a conversation that is varied and considerably multilateral! we also know this by another name : tokenism! it’s dressed up in flashy and vibrant attire. so many aluminum sheets arraying tastes and flavors that are on fire! who is willing to try all of the offerings on the platter? likely one is willing to pass on the lonesome celery in preference for the berries and cheeses!

empty platitudes are indeed vacant of destination or appeal (not to the mainstream propagandist media). to the mouths that spout such occasion, their life karma seems cursed by the immediate and often told joke, one is forced to laugh yet again. it’s an usual and common trick played by the puppet and their masters. *JUST REPEAT THE SENTIMENT AND STRESS WHAT IS KNOWN WHILE AVOIDING SOLUTION BASED ANALYSIS*

42287C23-9AB4-4392-9638-AB7A12764AE4

of course if you don’t have a solution – it’s just regurgitation of paralyzing reality. reality THAT is absolutely crass – the kind which makes you immobile *literally*. it’s not that people don’t want to get out – they simply are in a structured funk. one that doesn’t click on 2 & 4 or lock and key. strings are wired – most of them fired off into the abyss. the vomit of such consequence is reported among many. it’s invitation is shared freely. this rage is fundamentally understood. the juice of misfortune has spilled onto our clothes. the cup that flows will never leak.”

the ANSWER *AND CALL* – to the very real systemic inequalities is the duty of the conscious. when you know, you KNOW! we must face – the many specific ways these lines intersect. the assault of this VIOLENCE is forewarned – it is the history of any imperialist and capitalist nation. is it really so devastating that we receive abhorrent demonstration of frustration? the record has proven we must move forward – in turning the page to the REVOLUTION.

the gift of the emblematic is that it gives us relief. it shows us how something that’s already very shambolic, can still find some sense of harmony and convergence.

things are changing all the time! we should always remember that. the lights are brighter and the burden is no less on the backs of those who’ve been fighting. humans and our relationship to the earth are demanded a change of consciousness. 

green2020

&UMMM
jamilah is da b e s t

S T R E A M L I N E SIMPLIFY

052820 SS
ss

MOBILIZATION // ORGANIZATION
PRINCIPLE // STRATEGY
STOCK MARKET SOARING // PEOPLE STARVING

streamline simplify?
sTrEaMLiNeSiMpLiFy!
S T R E A M L I N E SIMPLIFY…

REMEDY // SIDE EFFECT
PREJUDICED // PROTECTED
MEDIA // DISTRACTION

streamline simplify!
sTrEaMLiNeSiMpLiFy?
S T R E A M L I N E SIMPLIFY…

PROGRESS // ETERNAL STRUGGLE
BREATHING // NECK PRESSURED
PERPETUAL DEMANDS // OR ELSE RELENTLESS PLANS

streamline simplify…
sTrEaMLiNeSiMpLiFy?!
S T R E A M L I N E SIMPLIFY!?

minneapolis, it’s happening … over the world? it’s happening. it’s already happened. enough variables exist in which it could happen where you are. we have to start fine tuning our analysis. we know how this story ending, right? thus – reading THE BOOK is better than a recycled script of reactive complexities.

HF : SR28 JNJEYEILL

052120 HFSR28

IMPORTANT:

ALL OF THE COLORS FEATURED HERE LEAD TO PREVIOUS VIDEOS / POSTS / BY CLICKING ANY COLOR – YOU WILL BE LED INTO MANY PREVIOUS POSTS – SOLARETURNS IN THE CODE OF HF:SR28-JNJEYEILL 🪐🪐🪐

i’ve always enjoyed my random share of frizz and dazzle! ACCENT signatures which can be pinned down. an added delivery because some things are worth the explorative requiem. many wouldn’t attempt – though i am among the class that do. my research into the spectacular is a source for many muses and advent quests.

there’s a lot to discover every and any where – so i’ll continue to identify as a space skimmer. you can catch me as one of the CHARACTERS IN THE WIND – passionately sharing GLORY STORIES! THE LIVING THINGS will always be ThEnDance i’m stepping to. i live on the corner of the TRIPLE S, right across the avenue of POE. i whip as i dip cuz my jargon provides a TIP TO THE HIP! i reside in EDM CASTLES!

some have tasted of this NEW NARRATIVE OF CONSUMPTION! the COMMANDED NORMALITY has shelved me a formula decked with a BLOSSOM CHAMBER. i’ve been the witness to my own creations and recordings over the years. it’s ALL there.

TryMustDiv
IT’S HERE FOR NOW BUT THEN IT WON’T BE – BECAUSE HERE IS NOT OVER THERE

 growth follows us as translation is often lost in the triangle // prism of daily consciousness.

i aim to illuminate via a ( s p a c e ) : entitled PARADISE CLARITY / – this much has been said already at length. repetition is easy when the points are various and the summaries can be explained in a formula. a symbolic gesture – like DOMINOES being explained against representative measures. random are the flows which have gone into the PERPETUAL SINK. time and time again – i’ve spoken to the winds!

asking it to lead me into, streams of glistening action and INVIGORATION! the wind has pushed me down like it did to Pandora! i’ve gone all over the place and i’m still unpacking the vastness of that, which arrives at my garden gate.

i’ve handled VANILLA PAPER TRAILS with pure hands // intending to display a spiritual revelation covered by angel white hands. i’ve broken fragile concepts down by shattering them, into a spec too unfamiliar to many. i’ve gotten deeper into the SOURCE OF INSPIRING FRUSTRATION. carrying extra weight because of the scuba gear added to my person.

in positions of the past – i’ve been a flightless BIRD, flapping my wings with many flights left to climb. i made it through because i continued to hang with intellect – steadily on the wings of the IMMACULATE. my ancestors and strangers cruise by in passing cars – they’ve honked in approval or disgust. their thoughts were mine and mine were theirs. in the search for better days my WEDNESDAY’S favored AUGUST and the weekend’s became May. the written word forms when ‘CRE MET ATE‘.’

the BLESSING is that we are ALL here! the numbers add and the symbols divide into a splattered emergence featuring miscellaneous cotton candy. ETC, ETC = BLAH, BLAH!

PLUNGE THE DISTANCE

i’m not sure what this is going… but imma let it rip! the beast has been unleashed and thus have made the people mad. they are unhappy because they are steadily sad. things have been bad. the easy rhyme comes together like roses are red, violets being blue – this post is about the space between everything and YOU.

what is it about the need to compensate what’s lost? you can obtain a little but some of it (some of the crucial pieces) are left without a home. there’s misery in the pretense to erase what’s flowing out of you. conversations trapped in thought. looking to align some form of resounding clarity – hidden by the ghosted allegiance. once it starts – it can’t be put down. it’s a reckless jump! a feckless chump- dares not challenge with fire and tenacity.

one has to reason : but to what end? to defend? even the most present and persistent ill? to what fortitude is achieved; if reasoning is done to the justification of deeply engraved injustice? the mix of something nice alongside with something toxic, provides enough disillusionment. whose gonna sound the alarm? the push is nigh to revolutionize against systematic task-forces designed to portray the vote blue regardless of who. the work, is not readily finished – time begs the sketchpad to remember the fleeting and pressing metamorphosis. the programs aligned are soon to reboot but the power must be switched on.

the human condition by and large, remains in a cyclical loop, connected to previous generations. whenever we, involve ourselves into any kind of dynamic – chemical reactions fluctuate. these reactions are elected by the intimating methods of various conjecture. no one truly knows the formulas of combustion and why there’s boom and bang! we can study the mystical properties obtained and risk combining explosively or enough to merely sizzle!

this sigh is stolen by the frustrating essence which is uneasy to remove. our power remains docile against the ever changing light. this light is one that brightens awareness of the way things go. they’re going in a way that can’t be controlled by much of anything. the circumstances we tolerate and manage, are usually stemmed in a mutual exchange. however, many times we are held hostage by the supreme and authoritarian rule. we don’t have the keys although we’ve been offered a free tour!

 

when we walk – we embark on a chilly lark. 
from new bees to the west of the seas and trees. 
green pastures from the high and low plains – freeze in the plunged distance. remnants from a broken rock, remind us : the power which comes from
shattering collisions. 
the amalgamation of the things to come are swimmingly dense to the point of pick up. they’re coasting by floating on the top, swarming in the river.

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FEAT. cethree, x, 35, L, m, 1, and bomb!

getting across to this destination, is to go fishing in the seas of waiting: a hook trying to bait with a pole hanging southbound. we don’t know when the link is gonna click until it bites our ear off. loud and unsettling is the message which comes with no invite. bursting and thrusting scenes which sharpen the record! how could anyone ever forget something so dramatic? the boisterous sound is enough to encourage one to listen closely or avoid confrontation all together. the mood is set but it changes with the burning candle. wax burns down and eventually it begins to trickle…

the world needs love. we all need understanding for each other. we get so many shots to get it right. following what inspires us. i don’t know about you but have you ever felt misled? maybe the clues were not adding up to your expectation or probable result?

colors and dreams
what does it mean?
can we question the rule of the obscene – without plunging too much green?

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SUGARY SWEET SUITE

welcome to the sugary suite sweet – where all of your candies reside in a cavity mansion! care to jovially prance down this road? *well – it certainly sounds inviting, however some would dare, that you break free from the invitation and EOI!*

it’s a SWEET SUITE! decked with all the fixings! a chocolate pool. caramel encoded doors. windows laced with icing – mirrors glossed with angel frosted meringue! you couldn’t find a fructose more frivolous; than the fields of folly jolly, harboring these ranches. it’s almost abhorrent to walk into such saccharine corridors. the smell of such crisp invitation is enough to add more bounce to the ounce.

this facility of sugar is fallacious in every appearance. it shows up this way / that way / – after all to display a cone or honey clay. the molding of such delight is one that leaves your feet very sticky. your hands? very icky! your face? a house where you can’t find the mickey!

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don’t worry ! it’s a suite! you will sit on high towers all of which are rushed by endorphins. your brain explodes – this much is true, but you also collapse into a deep coma of activity. your every waking moment – alert and active at the snacks which await your tongue.

When the walls are too sweet, knocking them down is only mandatory – even at the risk of not wearing a parachute. When you’re free falling – you tend to not mind so much the road down to ruin. In the TRIPLE S there is no illusion or masquerade – the invite of fairy marmalade are savory to the search. if you were in need of a savior – salvation is salivating in this…when your enter those heavenly gates. you’ll want to keep it a private bliss, one you can secretly kiss.

it’s so nice, others dare know it as a vice. it’s what keeps you still.

*even in a field of cotton candy*

for some rather be abide in the cavity of sugar!

in the melody of a sweet piano tune.

the curse of this song and dance means never ending, animal like craving from the core.

the graph of subject and the title is doomed to make sense to the reader.

just as the arrangement of what’s in the bowl, seek to make sense if the food is tasteful or completely dry without flavor.

the process of this desire is not yet signed.

a promise is not yet delivered, to the nose of interest!

what can be found in the treasure box stolen by pirates?

the same gold and silver governed by kings and queens (&anything in between)?

the sugary sweet suite will make it difficult for you to solve the riddle of its sweetness. this sugar should enter the election of the affluent cavity – for it bounds you to the visceral and nectarous gravity.

however, if you were to come to this place – you’d find it very easy to chill on the candy pillows. the succulant marbled surface leaves a lot to be desired and that’s only the surface! in this place – you can even eat the dishes! this place is filled with syrupy mediocre wishes! the kind that melts on your mouth immediately while creating a dessert, desert like search for water. it may leave you dry, but that’s the cost for unchecked willy-nilly wonka cream! it’s the realization of living without a dream!

LMNO P

Jester J · LMNOP (The Song)

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lmnopee

ooo, ooh – Wee !

h20 got me buzzing – like – a – BEE!

Could this mean – I gotta LMNOPEEE? 

i been DRINKING and THINKING – while springing – like – a – TREE!

COULD THIS MEAN – I GOTTA LMNOPEE?

i guess you can say – i’m – sipping – too much – of the -TEA?

cOuLd tHiS mEaN i GoTta lmNoPeEe???

juicy equations and – caffeinated – senselessness has deliriously filled ME!

Could this mean – I gotta LMNOPEEE? 

the parking lot is FULL – and i’m urgently tempted to FLEE!

COULD THIS MEAN – I GOTTA LMNOPEE?

cOuLd tHiS mEaN i GoTta lmNoPeEe???

(L)

Listening: to the movement of the ocean, as the tidal waves back. hello again to the friend of my every day and ongoing thirst. on the line but not speaking only listening.

(M)

Moving: into circulation with the wear and tear of the ongoing molded cycle. flowing and going with where the trail leads. step by step the dance is harmonized as space continues to pace in between.

(N) 

Napping: to rest and heal from the ongoing pull of active and stagnant proclivity. to calm the immunity through peaceful zzz’s. sudden bouts of sleep stabilizes the active subconsciousness.

(O)

Orbiting: spinning with my modem ran at a stable speed. going around again to replenish because energy is being dispensed rapidly. loosing but gaining simultaneously as what’s given must also be received.

(P)

P : pressing into the power which publishes the paper I’ve been writing. pulled by the persistent push to spill the pill. i’d be penalized by embarrassment if provoked to sudden punch, pinch, and peal.

B Right back i got to LMNOPEEE

stacked and bloated – I’m just attempting to be free!

B right back I got to LMNOPEEE

DRAGGING THE DRAGON

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while lallygagging do so not at the expense of being a ✨popinjay✨. set the rhyme of law. let it be spoken to you like a ✨visceral✨ temptation. may we all be drawn to the throne of ✨perspicacity✨. our company is✨copious✨ enough for everyone to ingest. as we spend time together, we’ll be able to designate who eats the food that didn’t belong to them in the refrigerator. or the ✨idiosyncratic✨ one who sees it ✨atypical✨ to eat with anyone other than those they know.

if we embrace the benefits of being ✨vigilant✨, we may begin to satisfy the distance between day dreams and sleep-walking. the moment you step inside of knowledge, you will discover libraries which are filled with ✨organons✨ and late night dragons.

some groups find it sweet to ✨rhubarb✨ about non-specifics. fill the space with something transparent but not to peril of being a ✨sesquipedalian✨. they that listen only wish for you to come with sufficient ✨alacrity.✨

 

dragging the dragon – also nicknamed the green lagging – had a terrible wish to blow some fire!!! he did not yet have the access to the wire – but that did not snub his outlandish and steamy attire. the delight that made him smile was the very thing that caused smoke to arise from his nostrils. dragging the dragon meant getting anywhere would take a considerable amount of time.

 

on one late afternoon, the green lagging imagined standing in the waves of the shore – wishing to be drowned and unwilling to move even as the tides were coming close. the dragon was too careless to learn because it was cuffed underneath. seaweed can do that to you sometimes. if drowning means learning to be friends with the water so be it – the dragon thought.

 

when you’re dragging the dragon – the fire takes a longer time to come out until FLAME! FLAME! FLAME! 

 

YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN A TICKET!

 

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SPRUNG UP EMOTIONALLY

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sprung like the fibonacci springs in old beds…

*HERE ARE SEVEN EMOTIONAL RINGS*

when I dream of the yo-yo, I’m 1sprung up emotionally. my middle finger looped in a hole which like a BOOMERANG – is destined to be returned and thrown into gravity. one must hold on”…for the sacred is molded in ritual care and delicate caresses. when your memory savors the undefinable – this taste requires a devouring. a dissecting of each flavor carefully and considerably – taking notes as to what works and what can be taken out.

2sprung up cuz the recall of this truth can’t be denied or traded in for justifiable pretense. the dance has begun and my emotions are the alter in which I falter. i’ve been musically lifted. the sounds of crunchy melodies and syrupy grooves got me out and in the funk. a revival of sounds await for me through the changing beats and 808’s. 

so many emotions. they be swirling, twirling, and orbiting.  my feelings be

*f.s.k.o.w.* feeling some kind of way …. (<— CLICK HERE TO LISTEN)

3sprung up emotionally cuz my feelings are in a wave attempting to reach the shore. what can be done about the reactive state of affairs one is forced to deal with? how do we climb the ladder to safety ensuring the legs do not crumble? shaky foundations certainly make it difficult to stand stable. I suppose my hands are able but the intention is not willing.

4sprung up high up into the mountainous galaxies where the stars laugh at my decisions. looking into them // i see the past. memories which were stained by depraved action. my surroundings perplexed by desert dancers serving me bottled up mirages. i drank of their elixir then, while attempting to make sense out of this perilous advent.

5sprung up cuz i hung up, all my closing demands. i distanced myself like a pariah and the prey – tossing with the wind and never staying. trying to be the pretender and the joker cuz the absurd made life a folly. like a bullet strain locked and loaded, only needing a pull of the trigger. fear like this begins to grow bigger and BIGGER. when life invites you into a fetus like position – so that others can swallow you more safely // that’s when things really start looking shady.

6sprung up cuz i leaped too high. i wanted to meet my ancestors in heaven. some of which decided to come down instead to meet me in the shadows. they never scared me but they never made themselves known to me. even in the still of the night – they never dared to open a jar or fall off the hedges. i think they slept a lot instead of playing poltergeist. i knew they were here with me cuz i sleep and remember too.

7sprung up cuz i’ve been driven mad, glad, sad, and totally RAD. for as much as i wander i squander. time spilled into another day. pages left open but unread. dreams left unspoken but somehow said. this is why I say I’m sprung up! because i’ve been pressed and pushed down into the ground. WHAT has become WHEN. Because WHEN springs forth the map of promise! The restlessness is eventually awakened, as I pick up the pen. *Sew to Bestow* SPRUNG UP EMOTIONALLY ENOUGH TO TRANSMIT ALL SEVEN OF THESE FIBONACCI RINGS. ALL OF WHICH WERE RANDOM PROCESSES BAKING INTO MY MIND. The sound of love and the dream of the yo-yo does not have to return void.

TO THE QUEST FOR THE GEMS

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“FOLLOW THE GOLDEN LEAVES! FOR THE GOLDEN LEAVES WILL SHOW YOU WHERE TO GO.” in this case click the link below and watch this cartoon that I’ve been blessed to be a part of.

I’ve always wanted to be a part of a cartoon and this was manifested out of random collision. there’s something deeper brought out via cartoon animation which can’t be expressed through real life.

Our brains need to bend in wavy suggestive display. we are always better for it! think about how better you feel when watching cartoons? our memories are wavy and solidified by the morning suspense. I’ve been blessed to be a part of something so profound which brings to light much needed joy and enlightenment in such a time like this!

To The Quest For The Gemswas created by the talented artist and cartoonist Justin Macintosh and Jeremy Garner. I could tell you what it’s about but it’s only 16 minutes and 23 seconds – you can spare yourself some enlightenment and uplifting music to go alongside with the various messages told! I am very delighted to be given the invitation to lend my voice and passion to such a creation. This was once an idea. it had no form. no interaction. until the connection was made and we all used (digitally) tools built it up. All from across the world, by amazing people!

the 4 j’s united in harmony ! check out these talented artists and show support and love for the work they putting in.

https://tinyurl.com/rd2uhy4 – Justin Mcintosh
https://tinyurl.com/uwjmzw5 – Jeremy Garner
https://tinyurl.com/rm7p733 –  Jess from Galactic Gangsters

A closer look into rhymes and funky magic can spin us into worlds not easily understood. If you want to gain understanding – fret not by following along with the hacks and hints found inside the symbols.

we can be full without having to empty ourselves of what we’ve eaten at the table of riddles and innuendo. find it clear in your dreams – it’ll make sense as it’s all written down!

P L A N T I N U M ZOO

corporations and OLIGARCHS.
disperse @ the government’s HILL.
begging for a bailout?
STILL!
what was invested is now at a LOST.
dows plummeting, stocks crashing, and all concern for workers – TOSSED!
without a people capable and allowed to SHOP.
their wrecking ball is doomed to fall with a boiling DROP.
gluttons like these – thrive off of protecting the interests of those belonging to the CLUB.
touching any and every surface, our hands should be joined with soap and water in a constant 34 second SCRUB!
to get rid of all of the filth, and germ that comes from their multi-faceted LIE!
they don’t represent the people but they do want us to BUY AND BUY!
this is merely corporatism featured on a marquee of cartoon sciolism!
knowledge like this, proves sluggish and SUPERFICIAL.
for it dares not to concern itself on any matter outside of the profit JUDICIAL.

(profits over people! profits over people! profits over people!) {is the message they exclaim}

the “leaders of the free world” – attempts not, to remind people of this freedom.
instead they downplay the circumstance of real time desperation!
didn’t you hear them say – business as usual in 14 days?!
WE GOT TO GET BACK ROLLING! 
TV RATINGS AND CENSUS NUMBERS ARE STILL POLLING!
THE DICE IS ON ICE !
THRILLS FOR THE BILLS! 
HONEY BUT WITHOUT THE MONEY! 
MARKETS MAY BE CRASHING, BUT THEY WANT YOUR LABOR TO BE LASHING, AND STEADILY CASHING!
they dump billions and trillions for leisure SPORT!
the team-mates, janitors, and audience don’t even own a stake in the COURT!
these frauds deal with mafia stained HANDS!
they handle not with care but with a germ BANDS!
by signing into law – flame throwing missiles dripped in sanctions – it’s all TERRIBLE!
while remaining grotesque, fallacious, and absurd – I could only wish this was a J.C. PARABLE!
ha, but alas – two factions of one party – operating together to protect the business CLASS!!
they’ve already kicked some serious ASS!
& they don’t FLINCH an INCH to give anyone a basic safety NET!
to them we are the captured ones and are the real THREAT!
to them: we are the animals in the PEN!
except, this pen has no PAPER!
no windows, ink, or VAPOR!
do you happen to need GAS?
Well, I’m pretty sure the government will PASS!
for they only give us the CRUMBS!
they acknowledge not the ghettos or SLUMS!
with a thick boot cuffed against our NECKS!
they scoff at the idea of cutting anyone CHECKS!
which forces many to scramble and HAUNT!
this will leave many famished, desperate and GAUNT!
this liquid is clogged and chunky, unwilling to STRAIN.
now the people are forced to rally against the GRAIN!
only to return back to empty grocery AISLES!
remembering and never forgetting the SMILES, which where traded in, for lengthy troublesome MILES!
for we are dealing with misfortune and a HEADACHE!
some of us are coughing and can’t catch a BREAK!
tv propaganda paired with real time DANGER AND PANIC!
the ghost of misery has formed into an animalized MANIC!
we are witnessing a unprecedented MONSTROSITY!
we’ve welcomed a world of new and furloughed PAUCITY!
now we’re all trapped SHUT!
*I for one* am looking to burn down the empire of the GLUT!
although, locked in a CAGE!
featuring bird mentality and all the RAGE,
As for the red, white, and BLUE?
didn’t you get the CLUE?!
HAHA – this is a PLATINUM ZOO !

MIRACULOUS WEB MAZE

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Wh000aaaa? that’s Marvelous! CAN I GET A WITNESS IN HERE? it appears to me that we’ve tapped into the : MIRACULOUS, WEB – MAZE! – but who could ever think that we could be so overwhelmed? how could we ever begin – when there is no foreseeable end? how can we return back the default option – when endless labyrinths exist by the opening of doors and drawers.

“we all have that one drawer which stores random paraphernalia. when looking for a box of screws – you instead see various nails. long nails. small nails, and even medium sized nails – but your hammer just left you screwed!”

according to the national headlines – the masses have drunk the juice of misfortune. after all, what is a story unless it’s laced with some form of:

conflict and resolution!

tabs and windows!

molasses and lighting!

:::

As this key transcends the usual behavior of access, protection is governed to those who created the casualties.
 
Through the passage of confidentiality – this systematic matrix, is initiated by the trusted click of secured relevant information!

They aimed it to be an encrypted casualty – one that in totality gave life to the user and password.

It can not be contained by memory only but written encryption. 

 ::: – ENCRYPTED CAUSALITY 

yet we are still…

*constantly updating*

this Web is hilarious. we’re all stuck now in a Maze which doesn’t point to an end. it’s continuing to feel more isolated. cold. ostracized. overall, things are getting more dusty. whose gonna trace their names and numbers onto the furniture while also remembering to clean their hands afterwards?

not long ago i noticed a spider spinning down nearly approaching the countertop. i attempted to capture the spider by taking a napkin and placing it directly under it, so it would land on it.  however, to my shocking surprise – the moment it barely graced the napkin – it immediately spun all the way back to the top of the radiator. one thing became very clear to me – in real time, one can easily return back to the hard surface – instead of freely spinning out in the open air.

very few things sweep us into the miraculous! when it seems impossible, unlikely, and rare because you were among the first to witness it. if it appears to have never happened before – think of it happening outside of yourself. how often do we allow ourselves to feel the plight of our neighbors?

for the elderly in society – they are rarely visited in their care homes. most of them rely on daily activities such as bingo, puzzles, and live entertainment to invigorate their days. otherwise, Monday is not much different from Sunday. with social distancing becoming more and more recommended – one has to wonder how isolating one feels even more so, now that families are not able to see their loved ones (or gather in groups larger than 10) in fear that covoid-19 could spread faster.

desperate times call for desperate measures. even when provoked at every corner we are persuaded to think of everyone involved. we’re all linked into the night and light. this has caused a fundamental shift in feeling. it’s weird. it’s boredom. it calls for various questions! some of which – I can’t begin to write down. the blues provide clues to the shadows.

 

https://soundcloud.com/jestereyesound/blue-shadows

where words fail, this enduring classic by Billie Holiday seems to capture all my feels concisely. 

Good morning heartache, you old gloomy sight
Good morning heartache, thought we said goodbye last night
I turned and tossed until it seemed you had gone
But here you are with the dawn

Wish I’d forget you, but you’re here to stay
It seems I met you when my love went away
Now everyday I start by saying to you
Good morning heartache, what’s new

Stop haunting me now
Can’t chase you no how
Just leave me alone
I’ve got those Monday blues
Straight through Sunday blues

Good morning heartache, here we go again
Good morning heartache, you’re the one who knew me when
Might as well get used to you hanging around
Good morning heartache, sit down

Stop haunting me now
Can’t chase you no how
Just leave me alone
I’ve got those Monday blues
Straight through Sunday blues

Good morning heartache, here we go again
Good morning heartache, you’re the one who knew me when
Might as well get used to you hanging around
Good morning heartache, sit down

Thank you Bille Holiday, <3!!!