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?)
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.)
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…
i’m welcomed to my own own envelope party! yeah! yeah! yeah! writing letters at the seams multiple colored dreams fantasies and a spelled out intention reading it all out, so that all could be mentioned
tearing open the paper for a surprise the secret in here to advise ::: the reconciliation is closed i supposed it was because the bridge could not be crossed apparel sequencing nonetheless flossed the steps removed and tossed anchoring exploitation is the name ‘bossed’ by recurring screens littered in the eyes of incapable means
when wishing to dethrone the idea of home, my expectations sprint like the legends of rome. emblematic of an extravagant moonlight affair, my apparel crafted a tailored flair. dismissing the evidentiary notion. seeking rivers or oceans instead. as the bed doesn’t lie. the mind can cry opposed to the big picture but verified by in nuance.
seeing what’s caught in between. but begging for the green to be worn like jeans. understood are the roles played. they can’t all relay because their actions play a part. contradictory elements within the genes . bullying the pressure to let go and release the SCREAM. all over and on and on. composed in note and pattern without the visitation of exact correlation or by the planet Saturn!
(this poem / song came to me in a dREaM. i was at my old church, and there were multiple envelops thrown into the air while this song was being sang by the congregation. the dREaM ended by me being toppled over by a woman who sat on me after the last note was harmonized. very colorful indeed but i don’t know what it could mean?) 😂😅🤣
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! 🧈🦋🌟)
seasonal depression is in session the calamity is sizzling in the booth like a rotten and spoiled tooth cold to the touch ailments swollen & such formation takes a scolding seat malnourished and empty is the street past is left open like a twisted rope barefoot in journey seeking hope while summoned to the river naked and exposed, there i stood in a shiver like the roots planted next to me engulfed by the wind and tree before i knew it, i jumped with my flesh slumped inside the cold water an underground battle became a deep slaughter pierced by the freeze shaken by blistering leaves i’ve fallen and only desire sleep though these waves thrust me deep and my dreams creep remnants remain floating at the top the lighthouse flickers as though it may stop with the shine on the line and my mind crossed yet another time for this reason i wish this season to be dismissed as i drown remiss…
i have overstayed my welcome! should’ve been gone but now i’m on my way as here? is not over there! but it’s somewhere, a space on the line, like a frostbite in the mind! or a shackled image caught in between time…
forward ever to the ongoing change, left inside the collected jar. from near and afar. coin may reside, in thin pockets or within a hidden corner tide. clouds are transitory mysteries, containing ancient and new found histories!
anyways…
Any as in: IN KNEE. which stands… in the way, cuz the day is full of gray! a message that can potentially relay!
ever wondered what that could be? with eyes that can’t see. & intentions paved in hell. irrespective of the noise of the bell!
i looked in the mirror and noticed the sleep around my eyes, tears encrusted as tired lullabies… so : i ran the water, to set the starter!
now the essence of my current flower, makes a wish to be empowered (and devoured) by a hungry appetite.
with magnifying insight, my desire runs a surface lap! superfluous cycles sprinting around the map, like a mouse finding the house. or a buzz against the fuzz.
for when both are in want, they can’t help but flaunt, all of their desires laid clearly on the table! touching and seeing, in fact : ALL of their sensors set the match to the fable!
& the burn to return. leaves smoke and ash. they’ve been burned and smashed! no longer here, but transported through the seasons, as if you ever needed a sensible reason?
let’s start with this one : this rhyme is not yet undone ! cuz i wish for all the fun! my crass abilities are sensibilities that ain’t scorn, they’re only roses without the thorn!
a pain nonetheless, cuz the smell is rotten! like picked cotton ! laid out and embroidered like a quilted sheet. with colors and textures providing all the heat!
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 :
Today : is a day of mourning. with the falling rain & ongoing pain…indeed today is one of deep lamentation. if you’re wondering why, there’s a creeping sadness around this season? may it better recognized one reason for this is : the capitalist nature of this holiday.
while the mass media and all of their related pundits aim to reframe today as one of celebration and giving of thanks. amidst the football, cake and pie stuffing, turkey and ham feasts, little to no mind is given to the nature of this day.
Instead we’re forced: Football. Advertisements. Black Friday Sales. the message has been sent. encouraging the tenet to pay rent. but there ain’t no money. only waffles without honey. big time flakey, crumbling…steadily shaky.
one may vaguely point to the native and indigenous peoples; but little depth or investigation is made to their history and what efforts have been made to undermine them and their relentless struggle in gaining their land back!
I AM CONVINCED : not enough pain has been shared amongst the masses of those in ‘ameriKKKa’ / Canada / and all occupied and colonized lands…we’re only left to focus on the remnants of what remained. THIS IS THE CANARY EFFECT.
Not a day of thanksgiving but THANKS-TAKING of LAND, RESOURCES & LABOR which were all stolen, revised, and redirected for the purposes of capitalist exploitation and hegemonic dominance.
dammit i’m mad! (read it backwards) 😂 but still excitingly glad to report much progress is being made on my upcoming audio book ‘WAIT / WEIGHT THE MINUTE ! TyPo Or fAiTh/ FATE ? as it turns out recording chapters of your own words is more challenging than one would imagine. all of lines changing and times rearranging rhymes. this project is both spiritual and mathematical thus various contradictions appear. (here and near) transitions // tradition
sinister // minister
last days // last daze!
But through the work, many correlations are nonetheless teachable moments. It’s all aligned // It’s not so Bad but then again it is not just BAD but BBBBBBBAAAAAAADDDDDDD!
YOSOGO: May you enjoy the different variations of BAD with this playlist!
WHY YOU WANNA TREAT ME SO BAD ? – Prince // In this case ‘Bad’ is just how it sounds. just down wrong. when I treat you so good, but you treat me so bad. that ain’t right yo!
2. WHY DOES IT HURT SO BAD? – Whitney Houston // Back to feeling Sad, thought I let it go, why does it hurt me so?
3. BAD REPUTATION – Donna Summer // Always think twice! Don’t throw your love away and get into public arguments and reactionary interactions. Your reputation can’t be brought or sold but higher to this point ::: Trust your Instinct and LISTEN!
4. BAD BAD NEWS – Leon Bridges // Everything about this is smooth and lifting. The power of transitory style and grace when people get in your face. Bad bad news? nah, I’m about to turn it n2 a good thing.
5. YOU’VE GOT IT BAD – Stevie Wonder // This song is a trip. included with this song is : the flight, destination, and passing duties to ensure you a safe land. The view is ‘O’ so marvelous, so good the bad becomes good. She’s so bad, it’s good!
6. BAD – Michael Jackson // I’m Bad!! you know it AND THE WHOLE WORLD HAS TO ANSWER RIGHT NOW TO TELL YOU ONCE AGAIN : I’m So bad, I’m Smooth!!!
7. AMERICA HAS A PROBLEM – Beyonce // Beyonce sampled this song from Kilo Ali’s song (America Has A Problem (Cocaine) She changes the meaning and says : well the problem is actually her cuz she’s ‘Bad’.
“20, 40, 80, out the trap, hit it with the rap Put it on the map, then we right back Call me when you wanna get high, high, high, high Tony Montana with them racks Ivy P on my bag, double G’s on the dash I’m bad, I’m bad Tell me when you wanna get high, high, high, highBoy, you can’t get higher than this No ‘Cause love don’t get no higher than this No, no”
Now one can for sure criticize this song for its hyper glamorization of why she’s ‘Bad’. Exploitation is definitely in the bag not just birkins and teflar bags. you can’t get racks and billions without taking from those that do the labor to make that possible. That’s the fundamental contradiction in this song, America Does Have A Problem and that’s capitalism and the violence that is required in order to sustain its existence. So how about we get ‘high’ on political education and organization that gives us the focus to change the material realities around us. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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!
Even if you were to listen 3 times, it still wouldn’t take you 7 minutes to listen!
i sat down on one of the loneliest benches in the city amidst the piss, perfume, and upscale degradation _ it is with no hesitation to witness : that, this is a city filled with pretty & superfluous dreams.
all of which are split at the seams because the luxury of such life : bears insufferable strife.
on every corner, folks gather and scatter to enter the markets, to meander and shop!
hoping that their cards and credit won’t flop!
the currency and change makes one deranged through the arrangements of who potentially may be able to try it.
or who is willingly able to buy it?
if the advertising scheme is to beam any light, it’ll glow constantly through the morning, evening and late @ night.
glistening programs intending to influence your thoughts and the framing around them.
the measure is neither bountiful or slim.
as it concerns who gets to feel the impact of this glitter…despite the pockets of litter found in between streets or the desperate cries for consumption via uber eats.
the packaging is more real than the supposed material gain.
the profits remain, only among those that exploit the collective masses.
to this bench, i testified of a memory belonging amongst the lowest of classes.
when having no shelter, clean apparel, or access to a prescription to refill my glasses…
i struggled to see : how social systems could justify this neglect while claiming freedom simultaneously?
abruptly: the loneliest bench in the city – spoke back to me (with these words) : “as cement is drilled into a hole, and wooden wedges are placed inside to fill the vacant sole – so shall the ruling class walk on by, sitting on top of skyscrapers – built up high, like pigeons: it is there that they spy : to maintain their hegemonic & cawing lullaby.
In episode five of : How To Sew A Button – We’re back to the 2 hole button! I did less talking in this one with instead captioned instructions. At the end of the video I also add a short poem alongside with transitionary phrases of outfits.
communication should be easy but for a lot folks they’re wheezy to breezy ‘non-specifics.’ it becomes abstract to the point of distraction. all your numbers swallowed in subtraction. bleeding into a performance ‘extraction’. all of this, to say : you’re expected to do the work for other folks.
if you’ve ever been the one in the class who finished your work first, & expected spying eyes looking at your paper for the ‘answers’, you know very well just what party and what dancers make that scene. with a sly and glean jest, folks be making all the mess.
we should study and hold ourselves accountable as to not be caught slipping, like Jimmy! (YOO & shoutout to Slipping Jimmy, from ‘Better Call Saul‘ – a show I did not expect to connect with as much as eye have recently!)
One of the most enjoyable aspects of the show for me is the display of contradictions. ::: Lawyers // Grifters. DA Streets // Institutions. Ethical Justice By The State // Living On The Ends To Advance To The Top. ::: There’s a lot that can be said about all sorts of life’s thrills and ills. It’s natural to acknowledge the contradictions in all of life. Positives and negatives.
everything is connected // that is to say : related to each other. historically & materially – various lines intersect. conscious & subconscious beings do not exist within a vacuum. time itself is a continuation in and of itself. which is to say : what’s happened, is about to happen , and is already happening. it didn’t stop. nor did it pause, it extended. like a song recommended by additional bells and whistle’s. it’s steadily going because it’s relational.
It’s true, the jokes write themselves, like sinister elves seeking fairy shelves encoded with dust. one could perceive the reaction to lust, as a pie without crust ???
what is a conspiracy if not mass delusion by distracting the masses of the people on learning how systems operate and how everything is connected? whether you’re talking about aliens or lizard people – if that doesn’t involve material conditions which are controlled by forces such as (exploitation, violence by the state, status quo compliance by controlling women and marginalized genders and the like) if your conspiracy is too abstract to understand, it should be discarded or rather shaved to the point of making sense and getting through to the listener. if your ‘conspiracy’ can’t be explained in 10 seconds or less, than maybe it’s best – to say less? or at least study what can be proven by history / her story/ their-story / this being the most profound glory ! one has to wonder? if thoughts leading to silence will speak like thunder! if the wind ascends or if the sound is bound?
the guess of who knows? replied : i found out, what you about _ and it’s clinging to the clout. why chase, if all you’ll do is erase and out pace your need for examining grace. take space….lest your mistake the window for your face !
To This the proclamation was interrogated: Shall I Serenade or Fade?
whether you spend or trade it’s counting to something like a ‘thing’ that would sing
the most common button! the 4 (::) hole button, which usually goes down from top to bottom! ↔️ bottom to my top. this will be a SEVENTY SEVEN episode endeavor – featuring various ways of sewing. wrong ways, right days,a collection of variances and similarities.
this will be a SEVENTY SEVEN episode endeavor – featuring various ways of sewing. wrong ways, right days, a collection of variances and similarities. on the 7th episode – stay tuned ‘here’ for a special announcement !
i’ll teach you how to sew a 2 (:) hole button. it’s easier than it looks, blessings! this is how i like to do it, you may have another way! this is to no dismay, for sharing is caring ! blessings !
part 2!
this will be a SEVENTY SEVEN episode endeavor – featuring various ways of sewing. wrong ways, right days, a collection of variances and similarities. on the 7th episode – stay tuned to ‘here’ for a special announcement!
UNIFORMLY RaNdOmLy in S3arch of Paradise Clarity : THE PHOTOSHOOT! this gives me an opportunity to not say so much (save the captions!) now the photos will do the talking! As shot by Danny L’amour Studios! This is our 3rd photoshoot together (a charm it was) especially after 7 years since the first time we took photos which I used for my poetry album ‘August Feels Like Wednesday‘ in 2015.
Shoutout to Danny, for being such an incredible photographer who KNOWS what to bring out in a photo session. She made me calm and realize the objective I had, could be realized and experienced. This provided a ‘KNEW’ introduction of sorts to who I am and where I am going.
‘WAIT A MINUTE! TyPo Or FaiTh?’ has been in production for a while (released briefly in the fall of 2020 only now to be re-introduced with added context and audio book) It taking full form upon me JUMPING BACK INTO THE FIRE! (Da Souf!) With gas prices going up and with the thick boot of capitalism against our necks? We have no other choice but to organize (within a revolutionary organization) to combat these forces against the advancement of humanity.
These ‘Ism’s’ exist to continue the myth that we’re unable to do anything. However, we can radicalize our ideas about the structure of society and inform ourselves via a historical analysis. We can’t do it alone y’all!! here’s to adhering to a unified mission to fight for our lives!
Part 1: BUTTONS : buttons are blessings and they are like the passengers but instead of ‘gas’ all you need to ‘pass’ is a needle (a vehicle / medium) containing the energy to sustain. needle, thread, and a ‘knot’ is all it takes for the button to remain.
full shot including fanta urange sneakers & yellow hello socks !“ eye got two pens & they’re both friends!”glancing via thread-mancing’look n’ book!here : the invitation couldn’t be more clearerlandscape, water & armamentariummathematical process
Part 2: THREADS : Kaleidoscopic. All Colors! Rainbow. Pan. Across. Energy which can’t be contained Like blood it must flow, otherwise it will pile up and clout. And we all know what that’s about! (it ain’t good) Thus: it must Flow… in this i know!
Multi-Colored Veins7 Quest Held Firmtattoos? to be continued….spiral confessions RaNdOmLy…U R & R Ushoutout to ‘calluses’ as the faithful company to my sewing hands …
Part 3: SYMBOLS : Clear in its meaning and shape. Connecting with relatable interpretation drape. Blank space. Open. Vast. willing to outlast to engage and lambaste.
birthing kaleidoscopically…Hand Over Headtree limbs shaking ‘Knew Oil Leans’ (coming soon!grace to face *in every space*together unified inside held natured foundation hand & hand, do you understand?
i have a reply but i’m unable to share it i got a word but i’m thinking you’re unable to bear it! that’s to say ; this word can climb trees : this word will get you to confess on your knees ! like a fox searches for prey I’m traveling by stealthy feet hoping my capture will widen and greet all of the variations of foods supply, are written true & tasty in my mind’s eye!
i dare not hide the notion that exceeds your ocean !!! rocking and waving, for all the discs playing (in stereo) by the love we’re saving. arriving at a point to say, SCREAM, & rElAy! it’s to no dismay : even with a sad & hardened heart, the response of the shadows, honor light at the first start even when the ‘aims’ do not fully chart…
🤔😕🧐😟😐🤨
popping tums for my stomach ‘ummm’s’ pausing where the growls meet a pregnant wonder so that my thoughts might strike like thunder and the meaning to believe: reaches you : so that you are rescued from drowning under
my heart is beating all at once trying to discover why the race has slurred my visions blurred i wanna know i’m trying gas is expensive, so like the squirrel i’m flying from the sacred antediluvian tree, to the smell of tropical fruits and smoked brie as we walk on native indigenous lands,may our wills be set to struggle and UNDERSTAND!
i’m just remembering to write down what i’m assigned // aligned to do. dedication to the pen is a thrill oftentimes neglected. we don’t even give much time to everything we’ve done. while looking back at the things i’ve done, i still remain in jubilation at the many spaces made to continue advancing a better world.
whatever that looks like for my history. where the future resides. how i’ve come / coming / came to the terms of the spiritual world and the deep dividing of who is what & where meets there at the crossroads…
“until i find my answers, i’ll surround myself with dancers… & i must go & i must go alone you can’t call me on the telephone…”
it’s so many thoughts i have to get through. most of which i’ve only began to scratch. i am committed to redeeming these notions because it’s where i’m found. my heart is breathing steadily and it making me an outlier.
a present alien to foreign ground. it’s my awakening. the beast and flower passing into a truthful power. being strong in disagreeing. the seeing and the flowers of believing. i’ve done many things and now is a time for organizing of every material reality. so that i can see! i’m ready to jump in the 🔥FIRE🔥 and ignite the wire while being fit with a deserving attire.
asé to all the ancestors!
Moon and Sun : resourceful and remorseful is the cry when requirements have been unreached. making a speech to the pupils who are soon capable to teach. yet, always remaining a student and in study of the rule, whereby change constantly occurs. uncovering this answer with jotted lines of smooth but rough stirs.
the pencil is a treasured friend. in it – I can erase with pace the mistakes that are to surely take place. + an ASMR luxury, with mechanical ease, the pencil also sharpens the ears with a delicate breeze. unlike the pen or permanent sharpie : one does not have to outdo the lines with scribble (though the dribble can be one of an honorable threaded typo) leading us into the fate of a pristine date!!! (ain’t that gr8?)
shoutout to the etc of embroidery threads
extension……to be acknowledged in the silence. a retreat festering deep. my soul seeking to be at a place of ‘SEEING THINGS AS THEY ARE’ weighing it all. transforming. honing into the knew me. harmonizing the conscious and unconscious.
in bed, within the inn – i then go, soft peddles of a perfumed floral ring ‘a rose’ in me : the call of a bee sting. entwined in clusters of blue and carpenter’s wood remains flames of extravagance, shouldering between transgression and what’s expected to be good at the cocktail’s hour, happy itself – extends into the pour of a whisky sour!
within this writing – i’m inciting : levels of tiny pebbles ! stuck inside the shoe, solving this dilemma is merely paying attention to the clue! the case of this face is myriad but fallen short of obscene … when the sense became non – i become a breathless yawn. quivering into the distant soft tissue, as my tears are signatures of issues.
ranging from emotional neglect and tortured trauma! but confessions of repentance have been absolved through the teachings of the Dalai Lama! (((it should be noted : the dalai lama and 🧿 DO NOT IDEOLOGICALLY ALIGN, as They’ve worked with the 👀ℹ️🅰️, so….👎🏿 ! i only used their mention due to the rhyme provided on the spare dime in time.)))
i’m kept close by the face of an perplexing ace! while going through this crisis of energy – is not at all unexpected …
yet: it does appear suspected
as so much can be said………….. instead i’ll pause where my whispers swallow the voice inside, is a guide to which i follow
the fiction of the white just might: speak way too soon….. months of turning pages to the crescent & whole moon
still awaiting colors, glisten serene and while the contradictions long to be seen…. dialectically & eclectically : to those that suggest otherwise, by the sight of their reading eyes? lines indeed, align and surprise!
while : in bed, within the inn – i then know, embedded indigo!
I originally conceptualized the title “embedded indigo” after gathering all of my close friends at Benihana’s in Chanhassen Minnesota! I remember I worked at Mall of America at the time, and TrevorGuy called me around the time, I was leaving work. “Prince is having a music video dress rehearsal for Judith Hill with Eric Leeds, tonight at Paisley Park and you’re invited to bring in a couple of folks. Details forthcoming. Are you down?” “Absolutely, I’ll let my folks know!” I was absolutely ecstatic about going to Paisley Park and to add to that : A music video with two of my favorite musical artists!? I told the ‘True Blues’ (y’all know who you are!) AND we were all excited to be there!
For added context: I had only been to Minnesota 3 months at this point and things were already picking up, as only 2 days ago from this point I got 3 messages that a private party : was happening at Paisley Park and me and my friends had been invited to Paisley! If y’all want a run down of what happened you can watch that here! https://youtu.be/zSQWWAwRWgg
BACK TO BENIHANA’S! So we are all there awaiting what’s the scoop! everybody’s asking me, what’s about to happen!? Obviously I would know right? Well no. Prince never gave any information about what was about to happen, he just told you to prepare and that I did. It was at least 21 of us and none of us did not know what would happen. We were all sharing Prince stories and all guessing all what could go down. Clearly, we were all decked in our finest of clothes. I do remember having blue on at the time.
Suddenly : I get a call from TrevorGuy.
ALL eyes are suddenly on me as my ringer is on and I knew it was the call, we’d all be waiting for. I briskly brushed off into a quiet space, leaving them all in lingering anticipation.
I get back to the phone and hear :
“hey, sorry. Prince is not going to do it tonight. some things came up. sorry, will be in contact soon. peace.”
ALL I felt inside was blue. A deep blue. So deeply on me it felt like a deep url code. not just any kind of blue but a mood indigo like Duke Ellington spoke about. It wasn’t necessarily sadness though, just like someone dipped in a ocean of reflection. How was I going to tell everybody it wasn’t happening!? I remember thinking about dreading the walk of shame back to everyone awaiting what would be the next move.
Soon as i came back to the fold, my head shaking in every direction : everyone knew and we all laughed it off. in fact the rest of the night was spent with many other folks who had been to Paisley throughout the years when this was a common occurrence!
“Oh you mean, driving out in the middle of nowhere before there was ‘modern construction’ because you were told there was a paisley park party at -35 degrees and when he leaves you outside for like 3 hours and then decides at the last minute, nah.” Hahaha
Prince. His way about things were not linear. All throughout the night, I can’t say I was really feeling blue as in sad tho. I was very much energized throughout the laughter that ensued & with good eating though we were not a part of the experience. In many ways this is how I feel about Prince and the anniversaries of his ‘transcendence.’ Which is today. There is no real sadness only memories of joy when listening to the “flames of extravagance” that is Prince.
In many ways it all feels like a parallel vortex when this time comes around, a familiar whisper in the shadows. Whispering deeply, but a jovial memorial indigo.
it is cuz’ it has been and will be just as it must return
like a boomerang burned with dragon teeth fangs, it’ll cut with fire like an electrified barbed wire
slicing your attire exposing your repentance of skin and flame… in aim to frame, what exactly is that ‘AFRICAN’ name?
“I’m on my way back home!”
“really? without me, how did you get a ticket so fast?”
-___-
I mean I’m going back to the house!
Ha, ha,
I swore you were a mouse!
Except I caught them packaging the cheese, with a request for MORE PLEASE! a little like a tease, but with a swift breeze, I hereby grant you the keys :::
to return back to the zone whereby you are closer to home in spirit and mind.
don’t go blind to the sound, extend in reach of the palindrome : (remembering not just from the dome) but also the written word.
*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 !
pussy pavilion,
pussy pavilion,
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!
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.
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.
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!
This is a story about Typos and hypotheticals. FIRSTLY: As told through the medium of the ‘Don_Key’ as spoken about in Numbers 22:21-38 when Balaam’s faithful friend was stopped in the way due to the Angel of The Lord. SECONDLY: This is a story based on true events but with remixed names and places. THIRDLY: it is also spoken through the political angle, which when in harmony with the angel of awareness, brings about revolutionary awakening and love.
Thus, this story is a 3-level narration. An adventure encouraging the listener to weigh each minute and to ponder on the material reality around us. The witness of the spirit must be in reliance with the science, the contradiction in life is to know the internal things or the things that are within are just are relevant as the tangible things or the things written on our skin.
instead, humanity at large has been jailed into systematic revisionism and applause is given for a lack of critical thinking and reading from primary sources. hijacked is the reason to believe without challenging the dialectical and material reality to the NOUNS around you. everything is alert and making a sound. One can be asleep but there’s surely an alarm!
shoutout to Jagrati and Gramercy!
asleep (jagrati) // alarm (gramercy) these words mean something !
to not hear it and still steadily sleep or much more to DREAM but to not write it down. recognizes many challenges. the record makes true how the spirit speaks through you. waiting and weighing the moments and figuring out which streets lead to destinies not prepared for. immediately and with urgency one is left to FIGURE OUT WHERE THEY ARE GOING. WHY WERE THEY STOPPED. WHEN THE PATTERN CHANGES AND WHEN IT IS FOLLOWING AN ‘END’ Herein We may Begin….
shall we talk it over, or discuss the matter in silence?
or are you for a government ran by the people, or the system promoting self-reliance?
you know what they say : you can do it on your own!
you ain’t gotta look for home: neither should you ask for help, especially when in need.
SUCK IT UP, don’t cry, just go untreated until your left to bleed!
flesh left open like a party inviting every kind of friend, family, and stranger, which inevitably attracts danger!
cuz’ all them people were gathered in one space : but if not guided by a common grace or principle, their concern is far more scattered and unorganized.
thus, for the people to arise – democratic centralism must be the measure which assures their size!
may our prayers bear knowledge to the ongoing science and emotional feeling.
this type of prayer is an invitation for higher and neutral healing.
to face the very material struggle found in all living beings.
it’s a matter of principally looking in, from within _ examining those contradictions which nonetheless appear as fiction DRESSED in various dictions.
I needn’t recite every line that comes to mind, however it is irrefutably clear – that their lies a wrestle between two opposing forces here and near.
How we confront and deal with one another requires us to call out the whereabouts of FEAR!
depending on the angel / angle, one may misplace the word intended to get to what’s true!
by each clue – may w3 all get through!
When the scenery becomes the garden greenery which enhances the vibration sensation.
what will fill the gap between the bridge that is passed, how can one gather with all they’ve amassed?
Without risking the loss of what they carried, the options are truly unvaried.
going to the ever-turning passage of spitted approval.
as judgements and skeptical glancing seek replacement and removal.
the romancing of the desired beat is to treat a furnished symphony.
for when the kangaroo wishes to land upon a higher stand, because their hump encourages their jump !
how closely do connections cross and feelings tread?
will this interaction be contained or will it spread?
likewise: fungi and real disguised lies, are perplexed in front of truth-seeking eyes.
may we be truthful to the solution, which soothes us to rely on an idealogical foundation and shape ourselves to the real malleable clay.
this is to no dismay.
for when closer to the tears.
and when the mirror reveals all of those spent years…
the pieces are stolen and hidden, returning concerns back to the vendor.
until the push of splendor revitalized the colors left on cluttered tables and midnight fables – convincing that you return to the feeling that left you kneeling….
even at the throne of mercy – you felt deserving of pain.
while being caught in the pouring rain…
you were then released from the choke holds, of spiked ambitions.
your attention would only become knotted and tangled like a geometric spider web.
by thinking you could reach the ebb without the flow, the truth of knowing the invisible structures which are principalities in high places.
when running faces meet the math belonging to shape and angle, the angel once more appears as a lesson to revere.
you did not see it coming, so you ran away.
into a place no one could say?
until you came right back open and barren – as an empty cup intended to be filled to the brim.
although tightly held with muscle and limb – the hour glass slipped from your hands with all the speckles of sand, the sound was as a thunderous command!
for when it shatters it matters because it reaches across all the hard surfaced floor
one can reach the door while answering the bell, for it swells deep in the midnight and afternoon pale.
a noise awakening one to the division of sound and stillness…
disrupting sleeplessness, which was diagnosed as a formidable illness.
the capitulation belonging to the CAPITALIZATION of interests belonging only to the select few? recognizes a RaDiCaL REVOLUTION, which informs scientifically, the work that is left for us to do!
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 paradiseclarity@gmail.com
Blessings!
it’s already been talked about! (& not for clout!) BUT heard of and made stable! (cuz’ the will to come through has been matched able!)
it’s hot! but, hell is hotter than this! it’s a knot – ignorance is touted as bliss! if not, for the kiss? i’d be remiss… to not add water to the pot! a flame to burn – a candle to return, and a fire to rehire & fuel the stubborn mule!
it must carry over via boat , bicycle, or range rover! as long as the theme is put to focus! or else, hocus pocus? with regard to the fleeting attention : it would be absolutely paramount of a mention! for getting through is to also recognize the invisible CLUE! this is why, the eye continues to spy and the hand signals a command…
the plight of such reverie may send one n2 a deeper sleep in search of hidden treasury the enclosed notion which has kept me at bay to the ocean, is one that has been built by the dream indeed : this memory is not what it seems cuz by the actual suffering of a heat stroke, the gestures of the sun’s brush has alerted me woke!
the sweat dripping down my skin? is enough to fill an ocean encouraging one to deep dive and swim! turning our eyes into the waterfall of surprise !
it’s hot! but, hell is hotter than this! it’s a knot – ignorance is touted as bliss! if not, for the kiss? i’d be remiss… to not add water to the pot! a flame to burn – a candle to return, and a fire to rehire & fuel the stubborn mule!
could this be : THE HYPE? a measurable sensation found in the swipe? when the up and down wishes to be found by a glaring animation – sparks begin to fly over the packed out station!
the readiness of the fashionable affair was declared imminently urgent, tho curtailed for the washer was out of laundry detergent. so, instead of being dressed with conceptual and stitched made apparel, it was assumed the instruments should firstly be made sterile
everybody’s supposed to be a certain type? Ha, according to the hype! the wizard is forever beholden to their pipe! said the smoker, who believed the hype! the hardware was made soft and unable to properly function thus soon inviting the technician to work on this much needed junction! but while attempting to stripe each light, the day could no sooner find the night. grapes belonging to the vine deserve to be plucked and eaten when fully ripe! said the greedy fox who was once more fooled by the hype!
it’s hot! but, hell is hotter than this! it’s a knot – ignorance is touted as bliss! if not, for the kiss? i’d be remiss… to not add water to the pot! a flame to burn – a candle to return, and a fire to rehire & fuel the stubborn mule!
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 ….
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’.
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. 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!
**** 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!
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.
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. ifwe 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.
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 READING – YOU’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!
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.
*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 nothingreplied 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!
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!
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 angelspas(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!
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 greenapple 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!
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.
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?