blessings // buttons y'all ~ here is where you can push the buttons of meaning and poetic interpretations of angel & angle windows of insight. peek around, there's a lot to see. (you may discover a key) For me? To sew is bestow! (buttons are like seeds) my aim is to frame THAT name : my sight is to ignite and thus write N2 PARADISE CLARITY. (for what is understanding if not for the s3arch & struggle to get there?)
caring wears a visible garment. love being an action word, that means it is most realized when in motion / demonstration. ideas set in mind only, ain’t got nothing on the tangible material. reality responds to a set of conditions which dictate the frame and name of any particular phenomena.
the all seeing eye does not spy but it does try
figuring out what set you off into this abyss a clown’s kiss regarded as a pleasurable mischief
entering into crowns & tiara’s glory should mean a head being chopped off – cuz’ that’s a class struggle story.
like a cat tickling the glass lofty bushes will fall, & when this inevitably comes to pass: will you go to the party or a parade in the green grass?
as you left the party, that was throwing confetti by breaking away first, as if to start but you still ain’t ready
darn the surprise and damn those eavesdropping eyes melodic boom bombs ministered to me in psalms
with every page i was radiated by their finesse their soliloquy fully weighted with a thin press could it be either their style? or delicate galloped mile?
everywhere they went? my change quickly spent! (as in) easily transformed with focused attention to their scent, while unselfishly paying rent
a smile wide as the moon frown as arduous as using a fork instead of a spoon making the differences difficult to reconcile
feeling impatient while waiting in line:
“can i get 10 breakfast platters, with extra biscuits and honey?” said the mf in front of me at the fast food joint, they probably didn’t order that much but the wait proved a ridiculous point.
the metrics upon my thoughts land in a planned dream you appeared in a multicolored dress i confess: it was tempting when you came my way in the midnight gray when you suspected my thoughts were distant reminded of our touch which subconsciously i missed very much even as long ago weeps for a much desired sleep action is misplaced on the table of distant seas waters placing us a part while the heart attempts to start my standing still wishes for you to move near to alarm my every symphony so that my vision can hear the word spoken back then, i still understood when we lived in the same neighborhood i neglected the requested chance i was too nervous to dance embarrassed by your movements and step i kept all my rhythm enclosed until the water flowed to the seeds, i then arose froze but dripping to the splendid occasion wherein this invasion became translucent (upon the metrics of these same thoughts : this summary of a melodic swoon my fullness was regarded as the moon walking like mj backwards to the stolen tune yet we sang with fascination, admiration & rightful sensation! (memories restores faith and hope; the contradiction in this is that : memories needn’t be rushed to be created.)
Acknowledge the space around you and LOOK at those FACES, in public SPACES! Let your EYES : REALIZE, the activity of your surroundings! Notice the detail, and take sight at the array of any possible dismay Pay attention to what’s happening!
Get out the way (or stand in the way) of a flammable aggression Put pride in your steps and alert yourself to the upcoming succession! Be a student to the way of the odd smirk! AgAin : set your feelings aside & commit to doing the work!
Can’t you hear them :beating those tambourines DOWN? it’s all AROUND! Trembling SOULS flustered but they still sound like prayerful mediation Tibetan BOWLS all of the while they are harmonizing between their FLUTES & anointed BOOTS ! attempting to make a WiLd SCENE cuz the GREEN stays OBSCENE !
(You’d think i’m being MEAN!)
it’s starting to look frfr aBsUrD : the performance is the DRIP that was once a SLIP N2 the action that gave it all the LIP. it’s a TRIP! Now y’all probably gonna be exhausting trying to connect all the RHYMES and TIMES you once heard, how you could fly or float. irrespective of the algorithmic ILLUSION or the perplexing CONFUSIONS parroting as GOLD. It’s all still SHINNY & WHINNY due to all the lies that are TOLD. I AM MISSING MY MAKEUP! A face that needs to ‘BEAT-IT’ like Yum on the STREETS. Consider me in HEAT as i show up as the GOO to the end of your SHOE. SURPRISE Mother fuc****! i’m the GUM that returns your face twisted, in sight, & NUMB. Because they decided to spot you; by artificial and AI sequenced WIRE. burning by FIRE hot as NERVOUSNESS is at your SERVICE. SENSITIVE cuz this is a FESTIVE ITCH. Like a Content WITCH on a broom stick. like the CLOCK contradicting the TICK TOCK. but yet? scrolling ENDLESSLY. You care not to take IT ALL IN? To fizzle out and SPIN. because you’ve been curated to a menu of potential ENDS. being hosted by superfluous FRIENDS . You hAve laughed yourself WELL! So, take a SWELL, gallop into the deep dirt ROADS. DON’T YOU feel THOSE poly rhythmic CODES? listen as they are blowing with the mist of the black and white KEYS. now PLEASE: understand this was an intentional long extended word salad, intending to CONVEY what you SHOULD HAVE GUESSED ANYWAY!
“what was once a party is a frivolous CHARADE until a festival PARADE revealed it all to be, an ambiguous MASQUERADE !!!”
speaking softly to the village dame he requested that he be chosen to play her game odds and perpendicular chances were in his favor desiring the allure of her symphonic narration and for the tour of her harmonic salvation to be met with a qualified or undignified correction (even if it meant subjection or rejection!)
this was his fate at odds by an uneven gate broken belonged to the lock, though pigeons remained on top with a wailing gawk superstitious anomalies affirmed vacant policies none bearing the condition of a playable rendition NOT TO MENTION: this is what perplexed him the most their sway held in the everyday of her disarray , eager for aligned scenes with multi-lingual tongues from the south and to the north of queens
if one could redeem a summary that is a recovery of time spent, sleeping indifferences would allow transgressions the space to vent his longing for the belonging of qualified amends may lend to slanted cut pieces cuffed by enemies instead of friends
returning back to the neighborhood of playmates and athletic ends meant being denied the sport and the elasticity which guaranteed material bends
the risk of being dismissed became the challenge accepted as with a chaste and hardened heart, wisdom afforded the incumbent appeal, neglected
the sigh that lent unspoken words, no one has ever heard. whispered prose which stirred sought to answer the blank space.
Featuring a scandal made righteous:
come here! You righteous scandal, I think you are a bit more to handle!
But I’m willing to catch you, if you stand in the way of getting got.
cuz’ you’re smoking hot _ I rather be denied than to not be given any chance.
to imagine of our sweaty dance – it may be a proven “righteous scandal.”
a candle much too hot, that soon it’ll burning.
melting by the woe of learning.
how can’t eye see? what’s lit up right in front of me.
I have no choice according to the inner doubting voice.
but my eyes clothes with fashionable express, textures and buttons draped with incomparable dress.
a feeling I can’t compare, as your colors endeavor to void the unfair.
if given the opportunity , I’d renew my immunity
to refrain from the masquerade in order for a fair trade N2 a memorial street, even with callused feet – I’ll greet your direction to a formulated and poetic perfection. (even if it meant potential rejection!)
your bounce is far to like jelly. it’s making me realize why eye turn off the telly.
choosing to instead read what lies in between.
as nuance reveals what all of it may mean…
like a multi-colored photo book, my mind is far too curious to NOT look.
those succulent thighs, make me yawn thirst trapping sighs.
natural to my instinct , I can’t help but think into a deep fantasy.
basically? my testimony is a desired ceremony in a transitional rhapsody !
featuring both you and I congregated together in full supply…
embraced by the supplication of your face your canvas, strokes are embedded with grace my appetite requests plural and singular taste fed by the mercies of your wish your pallet contains variations of flavors to dish with your laughter being a festive occasion and that smile stirring all the persuasion it’s no wonder : i have been summoned as a timeless recall, at a futuristic dream ball dancing by the beat of your clairvoyant signature i hope to be extended as your acceptable visitor ringing like your heart while singing: songs draped as sonnets and meaningful conjecture enough definitions and rhymes that’ll soon lecture… Not into sleep, but unto passages of paragraphs that’ll keep you kept into the deep if you’re wondering what all of this may mean? pay attention to my intention to make you scream as i shout: powers and seasonal flowers that may awaken your planted tree with rain and gain, until you can clearly see i’m on a roll, as i measure the graph around your whole every part of you, wrapped like cellophane on a prestigious gift my rift is a draft, encouraging you to pass with humor that’ll make you laugh carrying weight from your outstretched hand collecting all the specs of sand holding onto you with a promised note while floating to your hidden canals with my love boat consider this a cruise, one in which i heal your every bruise kissing softly the sprain, so that like a train you understand how my language is tracked with luggage already packed irrespective of the transportation this narration may become too much, but that’s the danger of surrendering to your touch while looking to name this piece in honor of your PERSONALITY FEAST i think of your beauty revealed by prayers of the holiest priest which is to say : your glory reaches to my inner poetic story sometimes too long and abstract to be said, but you’re in my spirit like fine wine awakens the dead
(THIS POEM IS DEDICATED TO THE NAME OF THE BUTTERY PECAN : MAY IT SERVE YOU AS YOU HAVE SERVED ME! 🧈🦋🌟)
This is a conversation, (May of 2022) I had with my dear friend Sannia! She shares her story about growing up in the church and how her ‘Angles and Angels’ contrast to mine. Listening back, I noticed, I did a lot ranting over the topic :p but Sannia adds a delightful perspective which puts in context our rightful place in examining where we are. May you receive something good out of this!
The first part of my interview with Keti, is available now for your listening / watching pleasure! it was so wonderful to be able to have this conversation and share some of my foundation behind my recent book ‘Wait / Weigh The Minute! TyPo oR fAiTh? Keti is an amazing philosopher and artist whose skills and talents speak for themselves! Check her channel out and subscribe for future endeavors !
in the backyard of my confusion, lied a remedy buried deep. Hidden far away, where even the soil keepers have fallen asleep. locked away as a time capsule, with a sturdy and indifferent axle. And absurd words tweeted by flightless birds.
one or two from three and nine : a stage to mine. encrusted with the rust of the earth. faced with festivals of mirth. saddled by the passages of my struggle fence. I stand in court as the devil’s advocate-seeking recompense! for my living right, avoiding the night, shadows hiding in plain sight!
far back alongside the distant seas! scented flowers and trees blow with a breeze, gathering my attention. not to mention the rhyme slime. that’s probably already a grind to your ears as an annoying past time. shooting stars , passing cars : energy misplaced _ fitness gone to waste. broken on the spine, foundation soon to be base.
maybe i’ll walk with a oak shillelagh, in hope that my step will be careful and true.
maybe i’ll dance with a wooden canopy while yodeling on the who!
maybe i’ll plunge with a strong and sturdy stick to penetrate through the concrete brick.
maybe i’ll be ran over by the impatient ones in the grocery aisle, with vampire teeth as their smile.
maybe i’ll count the time it takes to be 10/10 fine.
maybe i’ll mount the stacks on a dime.
maybe i’ll have a stable case to shoot the mace.
right inside their eye, a bright fiery potion, swallowing inside their ocean.
sheeeit, maybe ill strut with an oak shillelagh, and beat my drum with my wand and ukulele.
i find it curious, that when folks check in on you, they continue with wonder: “how have you been? what have you been up too? long time no talk too, what’s been happening?” however, those same people can’t / wouldn’t / haven’t – taken anytime to press play to engage in your latest creation.
if you want the message to relay; indeed all you need to do is press play and LISTEN! (i would really appreciate your feedback / criticisms especially if you make it through the whole thing!
this project was originally released 2 years ago as a written text, featuring 10 chapters with a lot of colorful poetry and allegory. i’ve done the difficult arrangement of writing, editing, and recording it all. There’s no ‘physical’ copy of this book yet because i really want folks to listen as opposed to flipping through the pages and missing something.
Typos notwithstanding, there’s a message! May you get through! Whether through the Angel (😇) or Angle (📐)
Blessings and thank you for everyone that has taken the time! This was done at no cost to you, but if you wish to give a love token and donation :
Wait (Weigh) The Minute! TyPo Or FaiTh (Fate)? IS OUT NOW FOR YOUR LISTENING PLEASURE!
This Audio book is the first of which i’ve ever done and the LONGEST project I created , running in at 2 hours and 12 minutes and 40 seconds! it makes sense it would be about the length of a feature film! this is also a project i’ve been working on for the last 5 years. My first book (Paradise Clarity) is a poetry opus of 460 pages conceptualizing the framework behind my writing since 2013.
Whereas, this book is a recorded notion of my past, present, and future. It speaks to the awareness that comes with being balanced about the things that happen to us on in our journey through life.
This book has 3 narrations : First of which is narrated by Balaam’s Don_Key found the scripture in Numbers Chapter 22 wherein Balaam is stopped in his tracks after his donkey ‘BRINGS HIM TO HIS ATTENTION ON WHERE HE IS GOING. ESSENTIALLY, HIS DONKEY MADE A TYPO* OF HIS USUAL FATE. Secondly, it loosely follows the life of Tomson who grew up in a Pentecostal Holiness Church of God in Christ. Much of which is my personal story (alongside with many who’ve had similar experience with the church.) Lastly, this is an audio search, which attempts to explain the reactions of such dispositions of both the Angle and Angel!
May you enjoy and listen in your own time!
TABLE CONTENTS (LIST OF CHAPTERS) : 00:29-01:24
INTRODUCTIONS: ANGLES, ANGELS, & THE DON_KEY -: 01:25-04:19
ASLEEP // ALARM: 4:20 – 8:25
(CHAPTER 1: OVER HERE? AIN’T OVER THERE!) : 8:26-18:01
(CHAPTER 2: DIFFERENT LENS, DIFFERENT PENS) : 18:03-24:20
(CHAPTER 3: WORLDS WITHIN THE WORLD) : 24:21-38:03
(CHAPTER 4: TELL HIM YES!) : 38:04-50:35
(CHAPTER 5: TRANSITION OF TRADITION): 50:37-1:09:35
(CHAPTER 6: CONGREGATIONAL SONG? ALL TOGETHER NOW!) : 1:09:37-1:16:08
(CHAPTER 7: TITHES AND OBLIGATIONS) : 1:16:09-1:26:18
(CHAPTER 8: THE BIBLE BELT) : 1:26:20-1:33:30
(CHAPTER 9: TRIPPING ON YOUR TRIP?!) 1:33:31-1:42:58
when eye look at the the full moon tonight, I’m reminded how my life was changed this day 7 years ago at Paisley Park. i’ll never forget that conversation and feeling. it was spiritual, all aglow, and all encompassing : much how the moon has 8 phases, various stages in between.
This was a night of correction _ a reminder of where I was standing.
i’ve never seen myself as much of a ‘fan’ but appreciator and admirer of his music. it was very clear i admired and some may say even ‘ADORED’ Prince’s music. (Shoutout toThe One!) ❤
I downloaded /purchased all of his (and related) albums and remembered all the lyrics! the music just connected with me. it’s like Prince knew how to ensure all the instruments including silence, we’re always so clear to hear and feel. to this day, truly i am moved. something about that Purple Music!
it was this night where i gave a private tour of paisley park alongside with TrevorGuy to journalists from Europe (pictured above) it was also announced to me for the first time that, Prince would be doing a solo Piano and Microphone Tour all across Europe in 3 weeks!
Alongside with MonoNeon (Bass Guitar) Donna Grantis (Guitarist) , Adrian Clutchfield (Sax & ewi) , and Kirk Johnson (Drums). As for my position? I‘d be working the teleprompter! he assigned me this position because he had watched my videos and was aware of my knowledge of his music and aware that i could keep up with his sudden musical transitions.
this was all so unbelievable to accept. And while this ultimately did not occur due to Ticket Scalping, and him deciding to have the first show at Paisley Park – the mere invitation was enough to transfix my anticipation.
amidst my glory and elation : it was reminded to me by Prince himself _ “You are in this position because you carry a light, you needn’t be shocked; you are here because you belong here!” i had smack myself out the fog of disbelief – it’s like nah man, take another look of what you have and USE IT! You don’t need to be surprised, just go with a smile and do the work!
Share your light and don’t hide it – ‘LIVE OUT LOUD‘ was after all the first song that I received from him in an email. it all became clear to me and my figuring out became glorified, it was like I had seen and walked into the light. Only after being guided by a mentor and oracle. I remember smiling and holding onto this revelation because it was that exact affirmation that encouraged me to continue with my soon to be released project ‘Characters In The Wind‘ which was going to be in New Zealand of that next year in 2016.
It all came at once, much like this memory. I’ve just returned from seeing Metallica in Hollywood, Florida! I’ve been listening to Metallica for about a year now and this being my 3rd show of theirs : it was an amazing experience. Much of it reminded me of how it was like being in the Prince community however this scene is totally different! Ha! They’ve been around for over 40 years and the sound just hits you. Especially when you peep into the different changes they’ve experienced throughout their career. The show I attended was for the ‘Trues’ as it was only songs played from their first two albums on the MegaForce label : ‘Kill Em’ All & Ride The Lightning’.
It was a special experience and I got to share it with my dearest friend, comrade, and sing-out loud to bad songs homie: jamilah! it was a electrifying night with vibrational intensity. From the conviction in Lars Ulrich drum playing, to the emblazoned passion in Kirk Hammett’s guitar playing. Matched with the throbbing resolution of Rob Trujillo’s bass guitar playing, harmonized with James Hetfield’s rhythmic guitar swagger – they bring something signature and sincere.
Experiencing music is all about connecting to the thing which can’t always be explained. It causes you to re-evaluate where you stand in the great congregation of life. All Together Now! (more or on that later in the Upcoming audio book!)
Everyone on this planet has value and importance. Don’t let this backwards system of Capitalism convince you otherwise ! they are constantly feeding us lies all based in individual and backwards ideology that serves only the interests of empire. We can and should work together, how else can we build if we are stuck in our own individual vacuums struggling in silence?
to hell with that! Realize you are a social being. you are breathing air. you desire community! all of us do. even introverts who prefer the company of themselves, still understand the necessity of contact with the other. it can’t be just you. it’s not just you. it’s never just one person.
Connecting with all of the forces that join in harmony is what this struggle is about. It’s not going to be easy because correction is hard to swallow for a lot of folks. Why? Because of liberalism. For those who do not know what Liberalism is a great text on this is by Mao Tse-Tung : in Combat Liberalism he writes:
“To let things slide for the sake of peace and friendship when a person has clearly gone wrong, and refrain from principled argument because he is an old acquaintance, a fellow townsman, a schoolmate, a close friend, a loved one, an old colleague or old subordinate. Or to touch on the matter lightly instead of going into it thoroughly, so as to keep on good terms. The result is that both the organization and the individual are harmed. This is one type of liberalism.”
THIS IS WHAT WE HAVE TO FIGHT EVERY DAY! Because we are all trained and socialized to be liberal on maters. Conflict avoidant. “I don’t talk about X Y Z” All of these avoidances are a result of how the system of capitalism trains us to silence ourselves when we are confronted with truth. We have to fight against that and struggle for a better world.
ALL of that to say : looking at the Full Moon reminded me of some of these notions to also weigh the minutes that have been counted before me! It has been written and said. I’m basking in the glow, the fullness that is to know.
all i’m saying is : a lot is about to change! (👛⛅️🛣️)
WAIT (W3IGH) THE – MINTUTE! TYPO OR FAITH (FAT3)? COMING SOON!
By golly, The Svengali of it aLl, how many rubber bands, they putting on that BaLl?
How many steps are leading to that HaLl?
deception’s VaSe – seeking an uprooted FlOwEr in CaSe there’s pOwEr to TrAcE.
‘rEaDiNg’ is our brain’s ‘FeEdiNg’ to the ToP, it doesn’t sToP.
If you’re WiShInG maybe you should be DiShiNg all the candy, salad, and nuts allowed in cLoVeR,
<<<<<<<<<<just know it ain’t OvEr !<<<<<<<<<<
sometimes you gotta ‘set the rhyme of LaW’ which is merely, calling out every presumed fLaW: if you wanna TRY ME, i won’t 🐝 SIGHING OR WONDERING WHY ME? i’ll just give you a reason to SEE! I ain’t about that life, cuz’ while assumption may cry the eAsE, for the ‘WhEeZe’ of the uncommon 1nE, that sees it ALL as sin and ‘uNdOnE’
i AiM to FrAmE that ‘nAmE’ how about we : start at those OfFeNdEd … their minds are often AtTeNdEd (to secular CoNcErn, preferring to BuRn) in contempt of the NoTiOn, to that which they’re AgAiNsT, like a guarded and barbed wired FeNcE.… they rather cut and ShOcK, than recognizing their judgment acts like a defensible bLoCk.
so here’s to setting the rhyme of law! mustard GrEeNs$ for absurd MeAnS : in order for a cOnDiTiOn to meet the ReNdiTiOn of fruitful AmBiTiOn: we must at first be given pErMiSsOn.
(if you wanna get heated in sTyLe, here’s a read worth your wHiLe…)
ALUMINUM DRESSING TO KEEP THEM GUESSING)
micro fancy, but with expensive and expansive designation for flossy ApPaRrEl with attention to details, so sTeRiLe with loaded bullets down the BaRrEl. it’s about as ReAl*** as the word could mAkE it, as hot as the baker could bAkE it.
unable to be put in a microwave as the waves radiate and ExPoSe. thereby fluttering the one with the RoSe. if peddles could speak : would they cut among the WeAk?! Ha, sad thorns built on the oUtSiDe, as thunderstorms rolls over all the starry eYeD. wavering inflictions swoon my addictions to higher LaNdS. greater and stronger cOmMaNdS. thus, i’m flipping through the elementary and university sTaGeS – as the pAgEs turned has been suited only for livable WaGeS!
*A POEM DEDICATED TO ALL THE KITTENS, CATS, AND MEMBERS BELONGING TO THE FELINE PERSUASION (TIGERS, LEOPARDS, SPHINX, ETC) EVER HAD A CAT CHECK YOU OUT FOR A WHILE FROM A COMFORTABLE DISTANCE, UNTIL THEY FOUND IT NECESSARY TO SIT IN FASHION AS A LOAF ONTO YOU? eXaCtLy.*
in stealthy gardens, she then parades with shy fluctuation
compressing down my blossoming appetite, extending my editing time to starvation
like a kitten, she comes with exciting jubilations, as yarn persuades by rotation & duration
intending to string me along, as if i could sing in harmony with her song
bulging expressive eyes, their playfulness surrenders me : to fawning sighs
life ain’t that fair, when kittens are resilient like a stallion to their chosen pavilion
until suddenly, the kitty….while prancing by :
thought enough of me to lay loaf, on my thigh
of course i’m not mad, more like excitedly glad that’ i’ve been honored with their beauty, command, and grace
their kitty cat pussy face, is like a bowl needed to be licked clean, and that they do
not for me or for you, but because grooming is a necessary act of self-care
they wouldn’t dare, ignore this allure, as their purrs causes all the stirs
all the feels, all of my wills : are to the spirit of the cat!
yeah, i said all of that!
i heard somebody say once : “cats don’t have owners, they have staff…”
and you can go ahead and laugh, at the work i’m willing to do on their behalf
you can consider me the x to their y on the graph
for this feline strikes with precise skills, revitalizing my company with aww glowing thrills !
like a stallion made resilient to its post, cat’s are too cool at doing the most!
*this was a poetic piece I created for IGF (Irreducible Grace Foundation) in collaboration with Ms. Jane and Dr. D : they both helped me to reach into that place within me – to convey sincerity and honesty through the power of breathing amidst the search of discovering who I am… this is the poetic piece I wrote out describing who I am. it has typically been difficult for me to name specifics of who I am but now, I am more assured in the discovery of ‘what’s in a name’ that I have no reason to be ashamed. blessings y’all! ❤ *
i am : Arican. who like most of us, were raised on colonized and stolen lands. (If not in location, in mind bands )
i come from : radical and religious sentiments! an environment which reinforced to me that my questions : were far too deep! that my interrogations of life’s contradictions were far too steep! The church, the Bible, and the Holy Ghost was our daily bread and butter, because if not in the name of Jesus – every other voice? could stutter!
when you look at me: you see – brown skin, large buttons, and thick locks of hair – they’re not dreadlocks, that would imply they’re dreadful and they’re not. you will also see, your own confirmation biases, but ULTIMATELY what you see are scattered remnants of survival.
When I look in the mirror : I see a man attempting to advance a better world through struggle and the sharing of joy through creation and revolutionary politics. I see a window at odds with dialectical history // worlds interlocked unfolding, the deeper and reachable mystery.
What you don’t see is : a man seeking to heal trauma that has flustered me. My ‘First & longest relationship was with someone who used the language of love but never matched practice with theory. I was 18, freshly graduated from high school : ready to move to another country to escape the command & rule.
I get stressed out : when I neglect to see what has been proven to be within me. when in stress, my will is often a mess out at every express, I soon begin to digress. All of these things and more can be the case, which is why instead i take a pause ______ and breathe, to make space.
Itake care of myself by: breathing within and remembering the various tools i have for access. Just as sewing and writing pens are tools of connection : so is breathing. i like to breathe using the 4 for 4 method.
Take 4 seconds to INHALE (through your nose) HOLD your inhale at the top for 4 seconds Take 4 seconds to EXHALE (through your mouth)
*4 counts in between each breathe !*
when you take deep breath it activates the vagus nerve – sending a message to yo brain that you are calm..
we win when we breathe from within. There is no end, only the will to perpetually transcend! whether your at 0 or 10 – i recommend, you find that space and begin.
::: “i say this to you, so that you know that : ACCESS is from within, when placed in an uneasy or stressful situation, remember that you have the tools and can get to that place of healing and rest.”
i often use this tool when i am stressed about something i can’t easily each or obtain. this technique is often used in combat – to calm the fighter before and after a situation. May you find it useful in any stressful situation!
one filled with many luxury and used vehicles, may one of them get you through.
spice it up and get through the caption – otherwise the meaning is a fatal faction of a thicker extraction. season if you would like to maintain flavor, but please remember to SAVOR!
tactical rectification knocks at my despair asking me which clothes i wish to wear?
ice sparkles on the frosted apparel / that’s sterile, for water drenching the stenches of my mentions. cleaning up all the empty and forbidden space which longs to occupy foreign taste. the degree to which we belong is congregational song : may we all now sing along?
“ our time and labor is being exploited by the ruling class – this may seem like the only future to come to pass, but that’s all the gas! we can fight against the line which draws us crossed and undermined!.”
they’re not going to show you the revolution! anyone assuming that, hasn’t understood organizing is the solution!
with this, that and the third being said (here’s a few reminders for the mind and head)
thinking is just blinking (from within)
writing is just linking (paper to pen)
reading is feeling (your brain)
comprehending is seeding (exchanging memory lanes)
remembering is retaining (information studied)
patience is primary sources (no longer hurried)
shoutout to the remnants, of those remaining: remains, tags, pieces, lint, to be brushed strings left at lush the fluff, stuff! the around and found, all of the miscellaneous means at gathered ends, shoutout to their memory and sins! special regards to the : split creases and dinosaur leases! all of the crumbles and mumbles left at your tables and sold through their fables. every single etc etc and dot dot line and thing all the cotton, satin, and polyester fling! every scribble, chop, plot, and missed out line : here’s to acknowledging your presence in the blistering winter time! here’s to your frosted and forgotten remembrance! here’s to your effervescent transcendence!
2.) = the 2 hole buttons which act as one straight line. (:)
1.) = the invisible shank where there’s a wired loop underneath. (n)
4.) = the 4 hole buttons which can be sewn as (X) or (::) these are most common on dress shirts which often come in 7 buttons going down from top to bottom.
buttons INDEED connect and the ‘gesture’ of button therapy is the search to bring clarity! if not for buttons on our clothes, we wouldn’t have a united force which harmonizes the divide. buttons are blessings, y’all! in the same way, every one of the blessings in my life have united me to a deeper connection and understanding.
they counted it all joy, to set the fire ablaze and destroy!
it mattered very little to their anguished mind : all of the memories now spoiled rotten in time.
‘it’s just a book’ : why would one insist to read it as if they could look? thus, they burned the pages alive – claiming what was left over, was made broken, abused, and unable to thrive…”
the ghost of this feeling?
seeks a remedy of healing!
the spirit of those words cried, after the flame once stole their flesh and the pages dyed…
into a thick smoky black ink….
staining fingers until blemishes could think:
towards the water and richly lathered soap,
attempting to wash away unfettered desires, and forged hope!
what was taken may be placed again!
through a loop, appearing now and then…
by a vision or through the dream portal:
charms enlighten briefly, yet remain mortal.
a sound that went unheard, until the smoke choked the air and their third eye vision became blurred!
paying service to the record which made them nervous : they’ve relinquished all possibilities : although nearly drowning in the deep blue seas, all of the flees couldn’t hurriedly leave their dog. Was it the surface or the smog – which stalled the cog to a destabilizing fog?
this happened to be the case for Deaf McCoy!
they not knowing : the heat could extinguish their joy!
” ‘cuz what about, all of the work that was put in?” as the 3 out of 5 recommend : the enemy and friend – to sit at the table of consumed ends, the start of which may transcend, with a flamed wire which only until now has to expire!
🔥🔥🔥to all the pages and names which were written in search of the answer. they found the dancer, grooving within the melodies of a boiling heat! a burning revival – reaching towards the back alleys and crowded street!
i repeat deaf mccoy : they not knowing the heat could extinguish their joy !
PARADISE CLARITY is the conceptual statement in which poetry and symbolic ‘gestures’ comes through : to the reader by random and uniform means. It has been divided into 7 Volumes (Years) Starting from ‘Z’ (2020) To A (2013). THIS IS A 460 PAGE JOURNEY! (GOOD FOR ON COFFEE TABLE!) Most of these writings were available online via blog posts, videos, and other forms of multi-media but never given the full moment to be absorbed as a whole. Whether you choose to RaNdOmLy or uniformly flip through the pages : the search to get to transparent destination is open to whichever destination you find most useful!
*PRICE INCLUDES WORLDWIDE SHIPPING. PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR SHIPPING ADDRESS OF WHERE YOU WOULD WANT THE BOOK SENT* if you have any questions or concerns : please send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org
CARE NOT TO ONLY READ BUT DIVE FURTHER FOR EXPLANATION? WATCH THIS INSTEAD :
what is ‘paradise’ if not for the s3arch for transparent understanding!
i’ve randomly been writing poems and symbolic gestures starting back to 2013 – in this collection of writings you’ll be able to s3arch through the many ramblings of my mind! i’ve spoken about everything from : SPIRITUALITY , food, and dREaMs & ThEir WaKiNG LiFe CoNtRaDiCtIoNs!
reading my own words have been a revelatory insight into the reason i began to seek higher understanding. it all began in early 2013 after leaving a relationship that had significantly transformed my ‘Process’ of what understanding looks like.
many o’ times, i thought i KNEW FOR SURE what i was going through. only to soon realize, my eyes missed the lies passed right in front of me. it took being told the same thing by close friends, family, and strangers for me to somehow think i was getting through…
UNTIL : I WAS LOOPED BACK INTO BACK INTO A THE WIRE! a GPS programmed to a circular circumference! here i was // saying – i got it, this time! i didn’t have the proper correlation or the education which comes with learning about love but also LIVING with someone whose narcissism is cloaked onto them, similarly to how a robe can cover a pulsating throb.
i didn’t see what was ahead of me because i didn’t realize : RaNdOmLy…the same begins with a name not belonging to a disposition of shame. IT TOOK 8 YEARS * & some change* for me to GET THROUGH!
i was searching for ‘X’ – the unknown but yet known ; cycles of stained decoration, left me in constant hesitation. refusing to move on, assuming i’d become the same pawn – set adjacent to the queen who would guess that ‘chess’ was better played if it ALL was made into a beautiful & toxic Mess!
PARADISE CLARITY has shown me out of the deepest enclaves – i can reach to understanding through the work without feeling the need to justify every correlation that led me to ‘Y’ = ‘X’ has occupied so much of my figuring out. throughout all the years and tears wherein i feared – ever knowing the peace of being alone. believing that ‘home’ – could be understood distant and way out overseas. now i see it all began with me…
except it’s not just ‘U’ but the ancestors who have always paved the path! one can easily do the math : they told you that it was a hard to do! that numbers and shapes couldn’t be understood by you! but that’s a damn lie – one can try. to reach a higher place ! where grace is already marinating in space!
THE S3arch is how one may get through! (uniformly or RaNdOmLy)
FINALLY releasing this has also allowed me to MOVE ON AND AWAY – from the pains and gains which left me bound to reason (& seasonal treason) against the truth that deeply remains.
herein my celebration, salvation is retained !
IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN PURCHASING :
PARADISE CLARITY is the conceptual statement in which poetry and symbolic gestures comes through : to the reader by random and uniform means. It has been divided into 7 Volumes (Years) Starting from ‘Z’ (2020) To A (2013). THIS IS A 460 PAGE JOURNEY! Most of these writings were available online via blog posts, videos, and other forms of multi-media but never given the full moment to be absorbed as a whole. Whether you choose to RaNdOmLy or uniformly flip through the pages : the search to get to transparent destination is open to whichever destination you find most useful!
*PRICE INCLUDES WORLDWIDE SHIPPING. PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR SHIPPING ADDRESS OF WHERE YOU WOULD WANT THE BOOK SENT* if you have any questions or concerns : please send an email to email@example.com
cashapp & venmo: $gesturegreen
i would like to thank 3v3rybody who has taken the time to read and invest all of the words i’ve spoken within 7 volumes of time. so much has already been said, factors and predictions already laid…all of y’all, everywhere n everything : BL3ssings!!! ✨✨✨
while sleepwalking the dream deferred I was then sewn up, folded down, as my voice went unheard my spirit yet sought to eat the written word as my midnight repentance’s slurred…
to underline the meaning of the said pitch jars of stones, drawers of spells, are requesting a stitch placement – where could the key abide? if not in a enclosed location – where memories are kept far and wide!
meanwhile the coattail of their foundation proved genuinely steady but the camisole was see through, collapsing my bashfulness, surrendering me ready…
as wavy fiction produces depictions of various inflictions many of which attempt to make clear sense or else the pot is in need of a rinse for the container can only contain so much, before spilling over it’s been said : reality is a four dimensional clover.
so i’ve come to the same conclusion. a route destined to a recurring confusion. like a cul-de-sac – the ‘whereabouts’ ain’t amounting to jack!
i’ve test drove many herbs & clusters: for it provided a pleasure i dreamed to be the case. flowers rooted in the soil but soon destined to be inside of a vase.
the memory of life wishes to revive. but in between my closing eyes, this departure must contrive. to a place I’ve known? i’m kept grown!
when the aura comes around once more – what then, is left to be obtained?besides allergies from the flowers which have left me pained! maybe some visualizations are better seen within the dream? it need not be for real, otherwise my hesitations will scream!
upon the alarm, my trepidation returns deferred sleeping and waking life diffusing my fears into me like a songbird
but i missed the motion sought to keep me dancing instead my spelling was silenced to restless nights romancing sliced by the cut : as to excite the allure of the jiggly phat, what?
“ease on out of that pie!” or else you‘ll DYE : teeth darker than mud – ruining those pearly whites for a musty crud! wouldn’t that be a shame? ha, i can explain! :::
as forces are sent to convict – the mind of the infidel because they dared to call out the BULL, which would have otherwise continued stubbornly stool. buried underneath, allowing advantages to be traced!some have already gone to waste, others?are lurking by at an inquisitive pace!
thus, this dREaM DeFeRrEd requires a writing down of every emotion stirred to embrace : the flower & vase
before it goes away into withering decay. knowing that this transfer must occur, despite the lines which will inevitably blur! ….
as you were, The Game is Over for my Coeur… blessings and light to Yael Naim & David Donatien for all of their timeless offerings. this one goes all the way ❤
To believe what is actual, not being deceived by how it appears. Sure, our frames of perception can be colorful and wide; but if we are gonna make a factual statement about another subject….It’s best to be sure to check the mathematics of your analysis.
Look Twice, Homie!
In the best of passion, we are often arrested in our own thrills. Caught in the rapture of our meaning and forgetful to the other side of the pole. This happens to the best of us. Our voice and more (visibly) our words are devices of construction. We are building a universe by the words we speak and by the intent we set. When having a conversation fueled with passion and dedication, remember to share the ball. If not, conversation becomes a sport and we begin to rectify Shakespeare’s Monologues. Caught up in our own whirlwinds of speech, cutting aimlessly in the air, making all of the scores.
“Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief thetown-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and begeta temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumbshows and noise: I would have sucha fellow whipped for o’erdoing Termagant; it out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it.” – Hamlet: Act 3, Scene 2
I remember having to remember that monologue in theater class, and it’s always stayed with me. 😀
I could only imagine those on stage back then, would sometimes get caught up in the drama of the moment. Going way too far into their passions, and using their hands and body with too much weight and detail. Which Shakespear was not too fond of. He understood the need of temperance, which would allow a sort of smoothness. He wanted to avoid at all cost, the act of ‘Trying Too Hard’.
Maybe Shakespeare knew, people could see right through the act, and it was determined to sway through the disappointment of overdoing it.
This sets a remarkable parallel to the act of exercising on our madness. We can be thrown into our own passions at quite the cost, and this gives way to Sonic Blisters.
What are Sonic Blisters?
Sound trapped in some kind of emotional cut, and when we feel the cut, we scream. We act on the drama that we experience and are honest to whatever the feeling brings forth. If it’s frustration, it’s frustration. If it’s kindness, it’s kindness. Sometimes we can bleed too far into the outrage and it becomes overwhelmingly too much – but these blisters are controlled through sound.