September 29, 2009
Fermented Abomination
I remember being young at the ripe age of 100. Monsters in the closet matter only if I wore clothes. Under the bed I hid out of sheer joy. That, they just might find commonplace. Even though I had never sat with gentlemen. But Saw is on its 5th Irish on st. Patricks. I stopped watching after the dirty rug debacle. Honesty really isn't much in porch gossip. And honestly I couldn't hear you over the nights downpour. With that in mind, I often lie in hells winter. Filling it with imaginary stars is gonna help. Each star to form a truth or ressurect a spirit. But the truth hasn't met our abysmal little galaxy. Siegals album was sweet-nothings at the symposium. Actually it didnt even mean. This room can't fit us both. I was never really a fan of politicians or dancers. AC's are the only things making me waltz in my throneclothes.
And I'm not close to being falsetto who cares. But I wouldn't mind staring in living rooms. Look the opposite way if a black cat fucks up this arrangement. Minus my yesterdays and their strangeness. Tommorows to me rhymes with a body of work. And truthfully I'm tired, quite a paradox. Still waiting on something to drum to huh? Not that I'ma sheer poet to Jim Morrison poems. I have remote control but I only see my flaws. That I can call home without painted claws. No up at bat. No pitcher. No goals that Americans set. But I love playing the field and making you wet. When you get somewhere, the listeners do most the speaking.
Swing For The Fences
A fold-in piece I collab'd with my boy Vince (http://www.myspace.com/slomotion52588) on. He's a dope writer. Check his stuff out. If you know what a "fold-in" piece is, then you'll know what I'm talkin' about lol.
I heard Jim and Jack are with me on a barstool. They both treat me the same again and again. After two shots each please just shoot me down. I start to get a nice high and go, SWOOSH!. That is usually when I talk about the Bush administration. Hate. A strong word, a miracle of saturation. Well needless to say my feelings are absolutely amazing. Overtime I guess they're my starry night ablazing. I'm not a fan of Kanye and I dont dream of Siegal. His music is a story of stupidity and immense growth. But usually hes a egotist munching manna loaf. Or a torn soul depending on your governments control. I've seen it both ways inside a very steep hole. Depending on my mood we both grow up and breathe. I'm not the type of person to make you roll-up a sleeve. Never knew anyone named Judy could down all this vodka. But if you do meet someone before its all over with. SWING FOR THE FENCES.
This story is gonna begin with jack brothers, well fuck it. And end with alcohol poisining the same. I wish someone would join me for a few beers. Around this time the YMCA has a nice buzz going on. And freeworld leaders beg me to stop hating her. Now I'm waiting on a deluxe miracle right. You are pretty normal and feelings for her were far from week. Van gogh is to blame for the setting growing stronger. Hotter than the Nevada desert but I hate Kanye though. I dream of Sinatra and stupidity and thats okay at times. I'll chop down a tree of life for you egotistical bastard. I am a minion and I seek how you look at it. Yes. Now is the time we are pretty much the same. The blue-collar deathwish is making me a person to judge. Pull up a chair and drink a drink named Judy. Make a man out of me with that name. And I'll be sure to swing for the fences.
Might not hit a homerun but only a few run deep. Usually the bitches I meet keep me restless. So they're pretty much at one with their new identity. Not wearing any jeans during human contact. But I hear its My genes, Your panic room. Am. AM, like you can't ignore your manic doom. And just call me a Pro as if you DO KNOW ME. On the other hand, the one that knew me choked on blood. A cover up to hide you being placed in the guillotine. Deep inside hoping the one I knew best won't tell it. The trap door lingers, can you smell it. With hopes I will keep the amnesia of ambrosia. Yes. Thats what rips a smile to a million bits. So with that in mind I take everything you feel. And hope the flavor is already dead or soon killed. Sort of like leftover soups-the meaning of meaninglessness. It always taste best with a deck of shuffled tarot cards. WHY IS THAT?.
I heard Jim and Jack are with me on a barstool. They both treat me the same again and again. After two shots each please just shoot me down. I start to get a nice high and go, SWOOSH!. That is usually when I talk about the Bush administration. Hate. A strong word, a miracle of saturation. Well needless to say my feelings are absolutely amazing. Overtime I guess they're my starry night ablazing. I'm not a fan of Kanye and I dont dream of Siegal. His music is a story of stupidity and immense growth. But usually hes a egotist munching manna loaf. Or a torn soul depending on your governments control. I've seen it both ways inside a very steep hole. Depending on my mood we both grow up and breathe. I'm not the type of person to make you roll-up a sleeve. Never knew anyone named Judy could down all this vodka. But if you do meet someone before its all over with. SWING FOR THE FENCES.
This story is gonna begin with jack brothers, well fuck it. And end with alcohol poisining the same. I wish someone would join me for a few beers. Around this time the YMCA has a nice buzz going on. And freeworld leaders beg me to stop hating her. Now I'm waiting on a deluxe miracle right. You are pretty normal and feelings for her were far from week. Van gogh is to blame for the setting growing stronger. Hotter than the Nevada desert but I hate Kanye though. I dream of Sinatra and stupidity and thats okay at times. I'll chop down a tree of life for you egotistical bastard. I am a minion and I seek how you look at it. Yes. Now is the time we are pretty much the same. The blue-collar deathwish is making me a person to judge. Pull up a chair and drink a drink named Judy. Make a man out of me with that name. And I'll be sure to swing for the fences.
Might not hit a homerun but only a few run deep. Usually the bitches I meet keep me restless. So they're pretty much at one with their new identity. Not wearing any jeans during human contact. But I hear its My genes, Your panic room. Am. AM, like you can't ignore your manic doom. And just call me a Pro as if you DO KNOW ME. On the other hand, the one that knew me choked on blood. A cover up to hide you being placed in the guillotine. Deep inside hoping the one I knew best won't tell it. The trap door lingers, can you smell it. With hopes I will keep the amnesia of ambrosia. Yes. Thats what rips a smile to a million bits. So with that in mind I take everything you feel. And hope the flavor is already dead or soon killed. Sort of like leftover soups-the meaning of meaninglessness. It always taste best with a deck of shuffled tarot cards. WHY IS THAT?.
September 25, 2009
Seven Pounds...
He stood there starin` at what he`d just done
No longer feelin` like it was all against one
In a mist of blood, smoke & ash, the aftermath
Replayed his memories, seein` a flash of the past
He laughed tryna grasp the full effect of victory
Over a world that always seemed like it wasn`t listening
Skipped a beat, heart pacin`, he began to walk, racin`
Toward where? He didn`t know, as he stared in amazement
Had he known a month ago he would be capable of this
The plan was flawless, he thought as he escaped without a risk
Of bein` caught, slowin` down as he began to realize
That nobody would catch him because nobody survived
Slowin` his jog to a walk, he looked behind him and smiled
Maybe this was his destiny that`s been engraved since a child
A slave to denial, never sided with thoughts of impossible
His only enemy was himself and that wasn`t an obstacle
He couldn`t tackle, leanin` down starin` closely at his shadow
Made the step from "boy" to "man", this made him an adult
Breakin` free of the burdens that often paved him in shackles
Holdin` in his firm grip somethin` that made "them" all cattle
But he was far from a shepard, more like a wolf on the hunt
Feelin` the pride growin` inside just from lookin` at such
A disaster, just to know he held other`s life at his will
Proud that he didn`t hesitate when it was time for the kill
Knowin` he murdered sons, fathers, even mothers and daughters
Still not as much of an honor as becomin` a martyr
Bothered by the thought of it not bein` certain or fate
He walked away thinkin`, "the 72 virgins can wait"
For now there was a greater good that he could strive for
The Jihad, and he was willin` to spend his life at war
"A terrorist" standin` with the pride of a "hero" around him
Born 23 years ago, some where, seven pounds, zero ounces
No longer feelin` like it was all against one
In a mist of blood, smoke & ash, the aftermath
Replayed his memories, seein` a flash of the past
He laughed tryna grasp the full effect of victory
Over a world that always seemed like it wasn`t listening
Skipped a beat, heart pacin`, he began to walk, racin`
Toward where? He didn`t know, as he stared in amazement
Had he known a month ago he would be capable of this
The plan was flawless, he thought as he escaped without a risk
Of bein` caught, slowin` down as he began to realize
That nobody would catch him because nobody survived
Slowin` his jog to a walk, he looked behind him and smiled
Maybe this was his destiny that`s been engraved since a child
A slave to denial, never sided with thoughts of impossible
His only enemy was himself and that wasn`t an obstacle
He couldn`t tackle, leanin` down starin` closely at his shadow
Made the step from "boy" to "man", this made him an adult
Breakin` free of the burdens that often paved him in shackles
Holdin` in his firm grip somethin` that made "them" all cattle
But he was far from a shepard, more like a wolf on the hunt
Feelin` the pride growin` inside just from lookin` at such
A disaster, just to know he held other`s life at his will
Proud that he didn`t hesitate when it was time for the kill
Knowin` he murdered sons, fathers, even mothers and daughters
Still not as much of an honor as becomin` a martyr
Bothered by the thought of it not bein` certain or fate
He walked away thinkin`, "the 72 virgins can wait"
For now there was a greater good that he could strive for
The Jihad, and he was willin` to spend his life at war
"A terrorist" standin` with the pride of a "hero" around him
Born 23 years ago, some where, seven pounds, zero ounces
Hopeless Romantics
Hopeless Romantics
Rock
From what she heard, love wasn`t anything more than a word
"The nerve.." she replied to the denies of what her heart has deserved
Since birth, part of her yearned for the perfect companion
Belief that he existed grew to fuel her search for romantics
Hopeful, not hopeless - she hoped that the road back
Would be all she imagined it would, so she laughed as she looked
Continuously, non stop knowing her faith wouldn`t shatter
Turned backs on nay sayers to turn into the face of "what mattered"
Embracing their laughter, thought to herself "they will cry later"
Wiping away the tears, her foundation in faith couldn`t be greater
Paper
Writing her vows, she sat excited with a smile on her face
Happily in love, proud that she found someone to light up her day
Even if it wasn`t rained upon, she coudln`t deny that the sight of
His embrace would take her sunny skies and just make them brighter
Honey mooners hand in hand, they danced and enjoyed the night
Knowing this time would finally come, she knew the choice was right
In the hotel room, candles lit with music in the distance
She sat in bed, patiently waiting she was clueless of what`s missin`
Wondering what was keeping him, anxious for him to come and take her
Reaching over to answer the phone she seen a letter and divorce papers
Heartbreak
From what she heard, love wasn`t nothing but a word
"The nerve.." she replied after saying "somethings I don`t deserve"
Curled up in a ball, crying in the honey moon suite
Clueless to why this happened, hoping "someone will choose me"
She packed her things, switched the light off and closed the door
Depressed her clipped wings held her back, she was supposed to soar
Walked out of the elevator sulking as she headed for the exit
But stopped when a stranger grabbed her arm and said he had a message
"Will you have dinner with me? Just answer, no reason to write back."
She shook her head thinking to herself, "this time I`m on the right track"
Rock
From what she heard, love wasn`t anything more than a word
"The nerve.." she replied to the denies of what her heart has deserved
Since birth, part of her yearned for the perfect companion
Belief that he existed grew to fuel her search for romantics
Hopeful, not hopeless - she hoped that the road back
Would be all she imagined it would, so she laughed as she looked
Continuously, non stop knowing her faith wouldn`t shatter
Turned backs on nay sayers to turn into the face of "what mattered"
Embracing their laughter, thought to herself "they will cry later"
Wiping away the tears, her foundation in faith couldn`t be greater
Paper
Writing her vows, she sat excited with a smile on her face
Happily in love, proud that she found someone to light up her day
Even if it wasn`t rained upon, she coudln`t deny that the sight of
His embrace would take her sunny skies and just make them brighter
Honey mooners hand in hand, they danced and enjoyed the night
Knowing this time would finally come, she knew the choice was right
In the hotel room, candles lit with music in the distance
She sat in bed, patiently waiting she was clueless of what`s missin`
Wondering what was keeping him, anxious for him to come and take her
Reaching over to answer the phone she seen a letter and divorce papers
Heartbreak
From what she heard, love wasn`t nothing but a word
"The nerve.." she replied after saying "somethings I don`t deserve"
Curled up in a ball, crying in the honey moon suite
Clueless to why this happened, hoping "someone will choose me"
She packed her things, switched the light off and closed the door
Depressed her clipped wings held her back, she was supposed to soar
Walked out of the elevator sulking as she headed for the exit
But stopped when a stranger grabbed her arm and said he had a message
"Will you have dinner with me? Just answer, no reason to write back."
She shook her head thinking to herself, "this time I`m on the right track"
Random drunk writin` lol
When I drink, my mind tends to think on another level
Or is it just the fact that I tend to cover levels
Of Nahlidge, to keep you guessin` with no answer?
Or is it because a nigga gets brave enough to stand up?
And walk a little further, nervous, shakin` with my hands up
Or flyin` right above the runway... tryna land it
Handed a hand that handles life a little different
Puttin` my puzzle together, but notice pieces missin`
Livin` on a distant inch measurin` inches
Feathers and henchmen are often on the same lever as vision
So if it don`t make sense, then who am I to understand?
At bat, the waves knocked me off deck, I hope they underhand
A slow ball, toes crawl toward a seperate exit
Severin` sections of loneliness until I`m left with
A message of despair, so I stare until it`s clear
Like day, then I start findin` love in the things I fear
Or is it just the fact that I tend to cover levels
Of Nahlidge, to keep you guessin` with no answer?
Or is it because a nigga gets brave enough to stand up?
And walk a little further, nervous, shakin` with my hands up
Or flyin` right above the runway... tryna land it
Handed a hand that handles life a little different
Puttin` my puzzle together, but notice pieces missin`
Livin` on a distant inch measurin` inches
Feathers and henchmen are often on the same lever as vision
So if it don`t make sense, then who am I to understand?
At bat, the waves knocked me off deck, I hope they underhand
A slow ball, toes crawl toward a seperate exit
Severin` sections of loneliness until I`m left with
A message of despair, so I stare until it`s clear
Like day, then I start findin` love in the things I fear
Look At The Mess You`ve Made
If I said you were to blame, I`d be tellin` the truth
So put your neck on the line and I`ll sell you a noose
And make you feel small, from up here there`s a hell of a view
To watch me walk on your heart until the elephant`s loose
Then we can see him stampede, laugh, torture and shatter
You to pieces to the point that they won`t even add up
To a whole anymore, then I`ll stare as you dwindle
Into a worse version of me so you can see what I`ve been through
And contrary to what Wu said, shit`s never been simple
So those pre-fabricated make-ups, you can throw out the window
Or go stare into a mirror for somebody to vent to
Cause these excuses you come up with really makes me resent you
Tempt you? Don`t understand how you could warp and bend truth
And mend two lies together, guess you pursue what men do
Can`t difuse the stem due to all the built up of rage
Your glass is half full, while mine was filled up way
Before you decided to go off on your tantrums, I can`t stand `em
Everythin` planned is imperfect, we find perfect at random
And by "we", I mean that I`m the one standin` in the mirror
Through these cloudy grey skies that I`m stuck tryna clear up
Where my failures can only blame myself, so I`m in fear of
The final lap, cause when I`m down, it seems nobody hears us
But this bottle in my hand is often my escape to cheer up
And put a smile on, actin` like I don`t really care but
In reality I do, when the buzz starts to fade and hollow
But if today goes bad, we can always try the same tomorrow
Set backs when I`m sober, at times are too big a chase to swallow
So I often stare at life, wishin` that I could break and borrow
Yours for a day, but that just means a new set of problems
That you`re already accustomed to, with your own ways to solve `em
So I`ll just take my own back and try to work my way around
These road blocks, turnin` my uncharted highways into sacred ground
And realize my problems aren`t so bad when I sit and break `em down
Instead of tryin` to run, or be lazy and watch `em pilin` up
Deal with them as they approach, do my best to take apart
The wrong pieces, deal with the consequence with grains of salt
When it rains, don`t stall, just look at it as the NOW
And the WHEN you get through it thought should make you proud
What I`m tryna say is, YOU, yourself are your only real critics
So when you create your own monster, learn how to deal with it
Topic - "You can't create a monster and then whine when he stomps on a few buildings"
So put your neck on the line and I`ll sell you a noose
And make you feel small, from up here there`s a hell of a view
To watch me walk on your heart until the elephant`s loose
Then we can see him stampede, laugh, torture and shatter
You to pieces to the point that they won`t even add up
To a whole anymore, then I`ll stare as you dwindle
Into a worse version of me so you can see what I`ve been through
And contrary to what Wu said, shit`s never been simple
So those pre-fabricated make-ups, you can throw out the window
Or go stare into a mirror for somebody to vent to
Cause these excuses you come up with really makes me resent you
Tempt you? Don`t understand how you could warp and bend truth
And mend two lies together, guess you pursue what men do
Can`t difuse the stem due to all the built up of rage
Your glass is half full, while mine was filled up way
Before you decided to go off on your tantrums, I can`t stand `em
Everythin` planned is imperfect, we find perfect at random
And by "we", I mean that I`m the one standin` in the mirror
Through these cloudy grey skies that I`m stuck tryna clear up
Where my failures can only blame myself, so I`m in fear of
The final lap, cause when I`m down, it seems nobody hears us
But this bottle in my hand is often my escape to cheer up
And put a smile on, actin` like I don`t really care but
In reality I do, when the buzz starts to fade and hollow
But if today goes bad, we can always try the same tomorrow
Set backs when I`m sober, at times are too big a chase to swallow
So I often stare at life, wishin` that I could break and borrow
Yours for a day, but that just means a new set of problems
That you`re already accustomed to, with your own ways to solve `em
So I`ll just take my own back and try to work my way around
These road blocks, turnin` my uncharted highways into sacred ground
And realize my problems aren`t so bad when I sit and break `em down
Instead of tryin` to run, or be lazy and watch `em pilin` up
Deal with them as they approach, do my best to take apart
The wrong pieces, deal with the consequence with grains of salt
When it rains, don`t stall, just look at it as the NOW
And the WHEN you get through it thought should make you proud
What I`m tryna say is, YOU, yourself are your only real critics
So when you create your own monster, learn how to deal with it
Topic - "You can't create a monster and then whine when he stomps on a few buildings"
A Touch Of Paint
Just a touch of paint will wash the rust away
Or at least hide it for a while `til my trust is saved
From the everyday things that try to crush my faith
Must I say... I`m tired of the dust that cakes
Buildin` layer over layer, makes the new seem old
Wearin` thin on the tires, but I choose these roads
Loose leafs hold the voice that makes the rooster crow
I usually don`t but feel like I should choose each goal
With a clear mind, undrugged and untoxicated
I`m a doctor`s patient abusin` all my doctor`s patience
I thought the waitin` would ruin, rot and drop my placement
Takin` me back to sqaure one, connect the dots, and faces
Become names that in time become another memory
Throwin` shots at happiness like, I love the misery
Symphony`s upon medleys of melodies meddling
On the brink of broken hearted, I sing when I`m close to heavenly
Settling near the front gate, it`s easy to choose hope
So when my happiness starts to peel all I need is a new coat
Or at least hide it for a while `til my trust is saved
From the everyday things that try to crush my faith
Must I say... I`m tired of the dust that cakes
Buildin` layer over layer, makes the new seem old
Wearin` thin on the tires, but I choose these roads
Loose leafs hold the voice that makes the rooster crow
I usually don`t but feel like I should choose each goal
With a clear mind, undrugged and untoxicated
I`m a doctor`s patient abusin` all my doctor`s patience
I thought the waitin` would ruin, rot and drop my placement
Takin` me back to sqaure one, connect the dots, and faces
Become names that in time become another memory
Throwin` shots at happiness like, I love the misery
Symphony`s upon medleys of melodies meddling
On the brink of broken hearted, I sing when I`m close to heavenly
Settling near the front gate, it`s easy to choose hope
So when my happiness starts to peel all I need is a new coat
September 22, 2009
Reverse Home Sickness? Lol.
Yea. So I was down in Florida for the 1st week of the month. Guess you can call it my first official vacation lol. And shit was CRAZY down there. Was stayin` in Miami and Hollywood. And didn`t wanna come back home for shit. Since I been back. I just been depressed lol. It`s weird. Like. Even when I wasn`t doin` shit down there, I was still havin` fun. I guess I just like the environment. It`s a whole different lifestyle that I could get used to. And I ain`t just talkin` about goin` clubbin` and shit all the time. My favorite thing down there was prolly just kickin` it on the beach durin` them late nights. Like I didn`t miss shit about this place while I was down there. And I`m missin` bein` down there since I came back. FUCK! lol. So yea. I seriously think I`m gonna consider movin` down there to live. That shit sounds like a dope ass idea. But I`m torn between weighin` my options of New York or Florida. I like both. But right now Florida is takin` the cake. But I guess we`ll see. I just know I NEED to get the fuck outta this hole lol. This shit is just like a downward spiral of depression and boredom bein` back home. But aight I`m done bitchin` about it until next time bitches.
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