CRUMB SOCIETY

we are living in a CRUMB SOCIETY, numb to sobriety but constantly fed with intoxicated waste renewing the insatiable taste.
skyscrapers in the city, with flashing lights and parking entrances lit pretty.
surrounded by security brick walled fences, spyware and firewalls for instance: while surveillance is factored in, just like a factory setting comes programmed from within.
production is on the line, labor exploitation becomes the pantomimed.
puppets and strings, relationships or flings?
like CRUMBS, falling from the bite of the cookie, mere CRUMBS.
that’s what we are offered.
ALSO BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT THEY WANT US TO SEARCH FOR.
WHO IS “THEY’? = They are the capitalist and corporate ruling class; the same ones doing all the stealing, and the wheeling of propaganda to keep you confused and pledged to their will. it’s a diabolical and violent ill, because they give us the snack crumble, while they keep the whole pie! AS if they could provide you a valid reason why?
HERE IS ONE : WE ARE GIVEN THE CRUMBS: JUST ENOUGH TO INDICATE THAT SOMETHING WAS EATEN AND LEFT OVER ON OUR FACE.
OR WHICHEVER PLACE. BUT THAT SOMETHING DOESN’T MEASURE TO EXACTLY HOW MUCH WE ACTUALLY ATE.
you know how crumbs are left forgotten on your chin, when talking to a stranger and no friend?
when ain’t nobody tell you, those CRUMBS were left at the corner of your mouth’s turn?
those CRUMBS have spoken for a desire to LEARN.
they were left elsewhere, found on your shirt.
just like dirt, hidden in between all of your forgotten nooks and crannies, some of y’all : even got crumbs in your panties!
yikes : the cross contamination & intersected damnation, at a location not too FAR from your teeth biting into this struggle BAR.
quite soon it’ll melt & stain! wouldn’t that be a shame ?
but it ain’t just you, we all belong to this CRUMB SOCIETY.
handkerchiefs, napkins, and tissues, come to the rescue in remedy of this issue!
whether jelly, spaghetti, or sugar confetti.
or like a photo seen on GETTY!
Why wait to be ready?
to acknowledge and do something about these CRUMBS : in the suburbs or slums, we are the sums of intentional wage theft.
but with ongoing Political Education and Organization, all of their CRUMBS will exit, stage left!

“I am” : u.r.i.s.o.p.c (statement piece)

*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 )

Shoutout to the AAPRP!

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!

Weigh The Minute! Typo Or Faith?

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.

Uniformy & RaNdOmLy : in Search of Paradise Clarity!

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.

I take 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.

4 4 4

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!

Storage Ghost

my eyes roll like dice, scattering probabilities spiced!
the cost of a gamble?
is scratching my head as i ramble !

whatever to the never,
‘cuz it’s not like IT intended on ever really coming through ( at least, FOR YOU)

their languished, weary confusion, was then
re-billed to my mirrored delusion!
i can either pay it, or let it go, overdraft?
after which, the picture and frame would both laugh !

‘cuz what a scene that would be, ha –
to portray : my dismay, on the table of their concern?
i much rather burn!!!
until i’m left crusted from the flickering flame...041421 SG

fire, plants, art decor
peeling away at this smoke and ash –
forgiveness is requesting to come to pass,
but i’m too stubborn to ever remember,
that my preference for Spring is not tantamount to your December!

so i choose to remove myself like a fly, chilling against the wall.

but if you were close to my ear, i wouldn’t dismiss your call.
neither, would i smash at the annoyance of your disposition.
irrespective of how preciously, you may regard that ‘position’.

i shutter to believe : we could shoulder next to the grudge
‘cuz it wouldn’t be long until we succumb to the nudge
but,
by storing my memories to your ghost? i’ve relinquished our odds to the abyss and uttermost!

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!

08072020 TPOJMB

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!

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!

SPRUNG UP EMOTIONALLY

041420 SUE
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.

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 !

BLESSED I N D E E D

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WE ARE BLESSED IN – DEED!

FOR WE HAVE PLANTED THE SEED!

AFTER COMMITTING AN EGREGIOUS DEED!

THE KIND YOU’D HAVE TO LAY DOWN BEFORE THE ALTER!

AFTER WHICH, THIS INVITATION WILL CAUSE YOU TO FALTER 

D
O
W
N

RIGHT INTO THE DEEP BLUE SEIZE – MANY COLORFUL KEYS TO PLEASE!

HOW BLESSED ARE WE? – JUST COUNT THE MANY WAYS WE MARVEL & HOWL!

A REALITY LIKE THIS IS CRASS AND TRAGICALLY FOUL!

SO –
BLESSINGS YALL, BLESSINGS!
CUZ
LESSONS HAVE FORMED – INTO SUSPENDED TORRID DESIRE !

A JOYFUL SOUND LIKE THIS – IS AS PROFOUND AS IT IS A CHOIR! 

.
,
.

NOW THE FIRE BURNS WITHIN YOU & ME!

WATERING THE ABILITY FOR ALL OF US TO SEE AND DECREE – THAT WE ARE:

BLESSED INDEED! BLESSED INDEED! WE’VE SEWN THE SEED – FOR WE NO LONGER NEED. WE ARE TRULY, BLESSED INDEED!

Perpetual Sink

040419 PS

“filtered so you can drink…”

my love is like a perpetual SINK.
this water has been filtered so that you can DRINK.
this is more that my mind having a THINK.
i’m here to make minds LINK!
eyes WINK!
& jewelry CLINK!
but
what rhymes with noTHING?
KNOW TING, so that you can make it BLING and spill it but not onto your SHIRT
for coffee is the color of DIRT
you know black without the CREAM?
my itch is so nervous you might think imma FIEND
my FLOW is so WHOA if you keep listening you’ll become a FIEND
come through without having to see
cuz I need you to FEEL, 4 WHEELS
without a gamble or loud noise that may CRACK
silence is golden you fool, rest on easy without a nervous LACK
fumbling, mumbling, and stumbling
oh, darling – I know this may all seem like too much of a BORE
but it’s meant to tickle your eyes, yes you’re on the right FLOOR!
whether on the table or free from the GROUND
let me hear you make a SOUND!

Premonition, Paranoia, Fear or The Heart?

Can it be Premonition, Paranoia, Fear, or The Heart?

I feel something coming. It’s coming to arrest me. To lock me up inside a cell of confusion. I don’t want to get lost. I only want to be found at the bay of safety. I’m being stalked by the shadow. Everywhere I turn the light follows me but so does this shadow. I have no secret place away from this troubling feeling. I am taken away by the travels of fear and paranoia – they are driving me further into my shadow existence.

My feelings are witnessing to a Premonition that something is gonna arrive and it will leave me without reason or answer. Listening to the heart means sometimes doing the unthinkable. The heart might as well be our inward eyes. It sees what reality is for what it is made up out of. It can’t unsee what it sees. No matter how we try to put on the shades to protect ourselves from the radiation of what we see.

The longing for something better has once again returned.

I lie awake at night on fire, my core literally burns.

That familiar voice that is my own tells me to run and hide.

The only problem is that there’s nowhere to go; how can I run from my own insides?

Is it so bad to long for what’s unknown and simultaneously known?

I cry out, asking for help, asking simply to be shown.

Is it selfish that I want recognition for what it is I’ve done?

Even if I give all of the credit to the Ultimate One?

Is it selfish that I want it to be my name that is spoken?

Is it selfish that I want some appreciation, even a small token?!

It seems the only thing to do is wait until the end.

I must wait until our eternal lives are slated to begin.

Only then will these questions asked be answered with no bias.

When these notions of an ever-dwindling time are simply put behind us.

(Timeless Burning – Sylina D. Black)

This poem totally rhymes with my heart and the overall direction of this piece. Thank you again Sylina – for remaining right on time with your subject, motif, and genre.

The heart never lies because it’s beating to keep you alive. Navigating through the multilayered sound of the heart can confuse what fear, paranoia, or premonition offers. It’s best to start off with love because love returns everything to focus.

When you don’t have love to back things up, you are literally screwed. If love ain’t the backbone and foundation – you only have curse words and empty promises. Nothing ahead of you can make a clear path. You are destroyed with only memory and fainted desires to build with plastic wood. You can’t move to a safe place if love isn’t already your safe place. If you build with weak tools and equipment, eventually everything is gonna crumble and retire back to inflated wheels.

This is why love must be the champion in a relationship. If it doesn’t keep you coming back, love was never there. You believed falsely. You thought it was true only to find out you were robbed of honesty. You got hoaxed. Fooled by the enormities of emotion and pleasure.

You believed in what was real in the idea but false in reality. You gonna have to pay for this sacrifice by offering another promise. You won’t win this time, you’ll have to replenish it again. You lost but only to gain again consciousness. You gotta hit harder but only to the right target.

 

Psychedelic Vibration (A Spontaneous Night With Shpongle)

 

Lately, my experiences have been spontaneously laced with a riddle. Last night was exactly that. (3/27/15)
4d62ad74ae38e5762b67142ab90bbf4e1deff2731d21e739b1c5610b737b3e54

I’m not entirely familiar with Shpongle but by the recommendation out of a conversation with my homie Jeremy. He makes music himself, which has several different styles incorporated.

 

Check him out on: http://jeremygarnermusic.bandcamp.com/

The both of us, have collaborated in times passed, and we have recently paired up in the near future (AFLW). I value his taste and interest, as we connect on a similar level, as it concerns sound and the ways in which vibration is understood.

So, when he mentioned to me, that Shpongle was actually performing in MPLS – I found the opportunity worth seizing. I wasn’t exactly doing anything and I know what experience he had when he witnessed him. Granted, his experience was not just music, it was more of a trip. We both ended up experiencing the similar effects.

Several different tides occurred which made the concert even more eventful. For starters, Jeremy wrote a book out of inspiration from listening to their music which he mailed off to me months ago. We were hoping maybe, I could pass it onto Shpongle himself. On my way out, I ended up carrying the book in my backpack. Although, I was told there was a strict NO BACKPACK Policy. SO I had to unwillingly place the backpack underneath a car, as I was not wanting to go back on the train to bring it back.

To my surprise, I arrived extremely early (About 9:20) because Shpongle was not set to perform until midnight. Overwhelmed by the anxiety of my bag being underneath a car, and the sweat and energy of drunk people besides me. I decided to leave, to only return back closer to his set. That also meant, getting something to eat! Which was a win, as I was extremely hungry!

I ate and made my way back on the train back to the event. (No backpack with me, as I managed to put the book in my coat) As soon, as I arrived back to the venue, there was an overwhelming amount of people all seemingly within a trace, responding to the master Shpongle. The music was different from anything I had ever experienced. Usually, I would be against going to an event like this, because it’s Electronica for the most part. A music genre I am extremely critical of in the POP sense. (Maybe if it wasn’t so dominating, and if there was a mix of it on the radio) But Shpongle manages to translate his sound in a unique vibration.

 

Firstly, everyone, there was all invested. Some of them with lights on their hands dressed with individual gadgets of lights. SO many different kinds of people and it seemed that all of them came with a purpose. All of them responding to the music in their own way.

On top of that, they were intoxicated, and many of them were smoking. Yet the energy was somehow plural and singular. Plural in that, all of them were consciously speaking the same language. BUT singular in that, all of them spoke the way they understood it.

The bass and sounds were entering into me with a baptizing effect. Like I was drinking in all of the sounds. At one point I had to move to an isolated part of the room because some people were banging their heads on me.HA!

 

Once, I managed to find an area, I closed my eyes and noticed the unpredictability of the music. There were very few loops, as I was always surprised when the next stab came along. For about an hour and 20 mins, Shpongle became an instrument. It was a very detailed experience filled with visuals and trance. I think, if I was alone experiencing it, it would be a very abstract experience even more so. With all the people there with me, made it a very collective journey. AND once again, all equipped with different clothing.

I was mesmerized by the vibration, and really glad I managed to make it, even as I felt very alone. Alone, in the sense that I was limited in my expression of the vibration because I was trying to understand it. I tried to find Shpongle after the show, but security was heavy so I was not able to give him the book, but ALL things in perfect timing!

On my way home, the whole thing took a greater turn for confusion. So many people were drunk – cause it’s the weekend, and people want to have fun with the spirits. While waiting for the train, it arrived about 30 minutes after the show. (So about 2:46AM) I did something I never thought I was capable of doing. FELL ASLEEP ON THE TRAIN.

Granted I was tired, but I did not expect to respond to my sleep by actually falling asleep! I woke up at the airport terminal, and I had to wait about 3 and 1/2 hours before the train came. What made it more an eerie experience was that one of the guys there tried to attack me. He failed. Yet, he succeeds in that he got 8 dollars after I threw it at him. It amazes me how spirits engage the personality. I really started to feel for him as I noticed his pleas.

I was not harmed, if anything it woke me up. There was ultimately no threat, only an invitation to what’s around me.

I really enjoyed the experience overall, as now I have a better understanding of how that particular sound is understood for me. I’m studying my reactions and becoming more aware of what psychedelic vibration means.

Just another story, I’ll be able to share! BIG shout out to Jeremy for helping me experience Shpongle! I have a feeling, I’ll be able to carry out the vision more clearly when I check them out live again.

It’s always cool when multiple colors are able to congregate and minister within an individual yet collective vision.

Psychedelic Vibration is Shpongle.

The Tao of Pimpin’ By Blue!

TaoBluePimpin

Well, damn!

That’s been my reaction after reading the wealth of knowledge engrained in the book ‘The Tao of Pimpin’

It’s interesting how, I met Blue (The Author and pimp herself) It was through a post shared by a mutual friend of ours, Jamilah. I noticed her posts, and she always seemed to make me laugh and think. However, it was her social conscious delivery that made me realize too. She had songs like ‘Don’t Get Your Ass Beat By The Police’ which still, remains one of my favorite jams even now. From then on, we kept in conversation through Facebook and her website.

When I realized she was writing this book, I did not think twice about putting my order in! A couple of days later, I picked it up and I was simply overwhelmed by the knowledge in this book. It’s not the most important if you read it from Z to A or some letter in between — the point is the same. ‘It’s Pimping Baby’

If you’re looking to determine some secret formula to pimping, you’ve already forgotten the Dynamic process.

Throughout the book, you are minded of this process.

Pimps, Ho’s, Hustlers, Scallywags, Outlaws, and pigs are apart of this process.

You must be wise and discover, Real Pimping’ is when you overstand. Real talk.

Real Pimping.

Through the passages of this book, I’ve been aware of the system of pimping in my own walk. She brought out a wealth of points which are revealed through your everyday living.

I recommend this book, to the youth! Everybody needs a closer examination of a system that has been in existence since the genesis.

Pimpin’ has been around longer than you imagine. Look beyond the cane, rag, and cup. Your inner pimp is reminded through the code of this book, how to thrive in the midst of everyone else.

She sheds light on how to respond to everyone. The wit in this book is unbearable. It makes you literally THINK, but it is given in such a way a child can understand.

Literally imperative, by the notion that it keeps you awaken to your inner pimp. Everyone has this pimp, dying to be fed. Here is the letter, and spirit, in which she delivers these formations. Her knowledge is understood, with no contradiction, but with the marriage of essence.

IN light of my appreciation of this book, here are 7 of my favorite quotes which have helped my next steps.

“Real Pimpin’ is like water. Water don’t fight. Water don’t flee. Water don’t compete with the powers that be. Water don’t need no music. Water don’t need no pro’s. Water flows where no one goes. Water is subject to the way. The How. Water stays at peace with the Tao.”

“Hos never ho by force. Hos ho by choice. When a ho chooses a pimp, a ho made a ho decision. If a pimp uses force to get a ho, then the pimp doesn’t have a ho. The pimp has a slave and slavery is a violation of the 13th amendment of the United States Constitution and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights declared by The General Assembly of The United Nations.”

“Stay cool. Let all things take their course. If a  pimp isn’t holding on, a pimp has no attachments and therefore, has nothing to lose. So why force things? Why resist?”

“Fear is the greatest illusion know to human beings. When people get scared, they start preparing to defend themselves; searching for a fight. There’s no greater  violation of our oneness than the preparation to fight one another”

“A wise pimp won’t brag or boast, yet still receives due credit. she doesn’t celebrate her work, so she has no need to self edit.”

“Real Pimpin’ has no agenda. She thinks with the people, loving the lover and the haters. She’s kind to the good, and she’s kind to the bad. she trusts, everyone, whether they deserve it or not.”

WONDERING WHAT THE TAO IS?

“The Tao has no definition. You can define other things in terms of the Tao but you cannot define the Tao in terms of anything else. To define The Tao, you would have to define it in terms of itself. That’s like defining “Consciousness” using  “Consciousness” in that definition, At best, you just said what you said, but you ain’t said shit for real.”

So, I encourage you all to find the passion and lesson in this book! You can order right here!YOU WILL NOT BE MISLED, BUT FOUND.

Also, check out her website!

The Map

“Nobody ever said that a map is ‘proof’ that a certain place on the map exists – but if they are curious enough to follow that map, they may discover for themselves that it does in fact exist – after which they can then speak from experience and claim that the ‘map’ is in fact accurate….Someone who looks at the map and then says ‘that place doesn’t exist!’ before they have even followed the map – is to me, more foolish than the one whom they are mocking for having followed the map…”

– Jeremy Garner

The Prayer of Depth

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My prayer is that you will awaken and assure me in my most dire attempts. When I falter between the influx of my intention and your will. You are the answer! All of my hope is in you, my faith is because of your faithfulness. Truly you’re so great and wonderful, all majesty which is truly in you! You beckon at my seas and you roar with grand love! You’re precious and you’re my own! I am yours and our relationship is kept by your power. Thank you for the continual grace. You pour into me such beauty and love. I truly love you because you love me!  It never ends because your love has no beginning or end. It goes on forever much like your love continues to awaken me in my most hopeless hour! Within, I can speak to you and you listen! All of my roaring depictions are heard in the tempest of my frail frame. As I look onto the others which cover the pursuit of their own, without navigation. I can’t help but see a portion of me, a glance of my own covetousness. I endlessly sought my own conjecture, to beckon of a need, that is greater! What becomes known in the depth, is my unique fingerprint. Many voices which are crying out, and I know we should hear them call.

 

Voices cryin’ out in the night hear them call
Voices cryin’ out, hear them call

It’s a night like no other night
It’s a day almost turning gray
It’s a heart like a broken heart
It’s a wheel at the end of day

It’s a life of a boy who’s scared
Of the waves rushing out
And the wind in the air
It’s a sight of one longing to taste of life

Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore

Visions that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more

Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices crying out hear them call

It’s a song of a love unsung
It’s the pain of just being young
It’s a cry of a voice unheard
Of a face speaking silent words

It’s a hope that the time goes by
Take you upon a wing
Teach your soul to fly
It’s a wish that you’ll live your experience life

Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore

Vision that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more

Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices crying out, hear them call

Oh, do you know how it feels to be free
Walking your path of life
Embracing destiny
One day at a time

Voices cryin’ out
(Oh, can’t you hear them)
Voices cryin’ out
(Listen please, listen to the future)

– Donna Summer

Vexed Panting

My blood is panting like on an African Safari.
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I was kept on a journey that tasted like a volcanic fantasy and destination.
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My body raved of a secret understood only between the curves and a rising agent which belong to me.
 
Silently my eyes remember what great presence your sincere frame belongs to.
 
The life which is being witnessed by the balanced giving of your charity.
 
You bite just enough to keep my mind on a vexed motivation.
 
I’ve known you to be a seed planter, and you carefully drop this amidst the growing perimeters.
 
You speak with a delighted gesture of peace, and a piece of me is grand as it is aware.
 
This is not a flaunted boasting of your most tempting rewards, rather humble auctions of your sensual blessings.
 
Actually, I’ve become familiar with the ground as I am grasping for air.
 
My body aches as it conveys a breaking down of carnal indulgence like I’ve never experienced before.
 
Messages are being tracked within the vessels of my words unto you.

Spoiled Oasis

 

ImageSalvador Dali

 

Salvador Dali always manages to express his power through so many illustrations. It’s a quite sensual piece. Safe to say, I am truly and remarkably moved by the meaning! I wrote this a while back, being inspired after I had awakened from a dream of being drowned by an oasis. I also found a lot of inspiration from Martika’s ‘Coloured Kisses’:

“You give me, give me colored kisses
Colored kisses for my lips to taste
You lead me, lead me to an oasis
An oasis where I can lay
My head on your shoulder and pray”

It’s one of my favorite jams, I love how colorful it is. It’s safe to say, being spoiled by a beautiful oasis really grants my thirst!

 

Just a fountain of forever – a waterfall of regeneration
Wisely laying beside the water brooks
I am thirsty for my lips to taste the freshest springs that run into me
This oasis is my home – as I was born into the spell of the waters
Once it was then possible to drown my veins
As I tried to break free from the liquids of eternity
It isn’t so easy to harmonize with the rushing waters because the waves cover and cruise the motion of the ocean
The heart of my livelihood
Rests at the sleepless sounds of the night
Come to me and arise with a crush of transparency
Find yourself at the foundation of all living
Organize the species of all life and silence the scientific hypothesis of the origin
The rivers yearn for the spoiling of fresher rainfalls
The drought captivates the deadly sting of rotten righteousness
Blades are becoming rusty as they cut the lengths of watery pastries

Currrent Ascension

H3r3 it is, the number that qualifies the selections of joy!

Piercing and exciting is the revelation that you are inside of. A L I G N M E N T

A L I G N M E N T

Stepping into the lines which are graphed onto your own variable.

 

The strength is inclined to pick up what you are unable to carry!

7 + 7 is 14.

But what does it all mean?!…2+0+1+4

The moment of NEW WAVES OF POWER!

Feeling light grow and glow in All My Dreams!!

It begins!

Herein the ascension…

THIS IS THE YEAR OF ALIGNMENT

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Throne

Excuse my slander and pardon my speech. I’ve traveled to the streets of gloom and have become arrested by condemnation. Steadily, I walk to the throne, wherein I am given full access. I sob in the love that is poured onto and into me. Forgiveness is given again, in the journey of my growth. 

Mathematically, I am unable to reverse and calculate the measures I have written down. Miraculously – I am yet given the sleep my spirit anxiously longs.  The peace that passes all understanding comes from The One. This peace serenades –  in the midst of war and challenge of resolution.
I remember writing this down, during a period that really brought a stronger realization to the Throne. I felt like I slandered my own name, and my speech wasn’t according to the wisdom that was embedded within me. I traveled to the streets of gloom and was arrested by this condemnation. Knowing, that truly there is no more condemnation. The ‘SIN’ Problem is no longer in effect. Those things were taken care of years before. Even as my forgiveness was met unto me –  I am living in a miracle! Truly we are all given this miracle. The throne has truly enveloped me to the place I now stand.

Possessed Silence

In the quality of my time and definition, there is room for space and to acknowledge silence. When the voices of my inner desires motivate a sense of repetitive actions. My silence falls into an unpronounceable recitation. The fashion and infallible gestures are those things which come from what is primitively ethereal.

Summarized Notion For Thought: Allow the possession of space, to design the silent utterance.