IMORTALITY

The route to true love

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 14:02:00 +0000

The taste of silence, the feel of absence, the sound of isolation, and the smell of solitude, is the route to true love, and the root to a greater appreciation for its miracle and essence. It's the cookbook to self value and a well filled to overflow in sharing.

~Atiim Chenzira

The Wind Blowz

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 00:51:00 +0000

The Wind Blowz

Written by: Atiim Bomani Chenzira
February 2004

Chorus 1:
The wind blows,
the leaves flow,
the world goes,
round and round.
The Sun Comes up...
the Moon goes down.
The wind blows,
the leaves flow,
the world goes,
round and round.
The Moon up...
the Sun goes down.
(the world goes round and round... Moons up... Sun goes down)

Verse 1:
The winds blow...
Leaves fall from family trees.
Birds and the bees.
New seeds, and seasons change things.
Light to night...
Wrong to right...
We're caught in a globe doing a dance...
There's a knock!!!
Here's your chance!
Romance the pain, or take a chance to gain.
You don't have to strain, just follow your heart, and use your brain.
Stained souls hold guilty chains.
Let it go, and give it up...
that's eternal flames.
Everybodies capable of transforming their scripts...
Water damage to manage...
and sometimes they rip.
Sip! from this cup...
Flesh of my flesh...
Blood of my blood...
There's a rainbow at the end of the flood.
Dirt turns to mud...
Mud feeds the seeds...
Roots sprout up with new routes,
but can you believe?
Check your bags at the door, then come on in.
After wiping your feet... we're gon' do it again.

Chorus 2: 1x
(everything changes... all you have to do is stay focused... The wind blows, and... everything changes.)

Verse 2:
I DO's mean I will, till their fed up now.
They throw in the towel...
Leaving with child...
saying it proud!
Wow!
Committed to themselves, and nobody else... Selfish.
Once I believed the pretty girl was selfless.
Maybe it's for the better, or maybe not... Who knows?
I'll tell you one thing, I was fight Life with Judo!
Karate chops and back flips to Meditate...
Tai Chi now...
I'm getting ready here to levitate.
Inhale... exhale...the bad to the good.
No more knocking on wood...
(instead I'm) Walking in faith like I should.
Letting it go...
and if it boomerangs back...
(I'll) call it Life's tax.

Chorus 3: 1x
(Arms are too short to box with God... You gotta' let it all go. Everythang' changes. You think you gon' do it?)

Verse 3:
The wind blows...
seeds get sowed...
paper folds...
finger tips lose grip...
some let go...
Letting the pressure cook books of story lines.
Plots get shot down...
Goals get paralyzed...
Walking in a valley of 'Grim Reap'...
The peepers move first!
Waiting for a chance to quench their thirst.
Burst, like a water balloon in hard times...
waiting for a new leaf's flip...
stripped of all shine.
And at a drop of a dime...
ready to unload!
Fatigued with thoughts of greed!
Minds deletes souls!
The Moon vanishes...
Suns appear...
One mark on the wall, but he's got 24 more years...
Couldn't wait for a knock at the door...
He's gotta' have it now.
Rags to body-bags...
A ghetto child.
Lost like the leaves that flow by...
A tatted cry...
Stuck in a wasteland game-plan...
Now time flies.

Chorus 4:
(Think this things set up for you to survive? It's supposed to change. If you ain't trying the help the process of change... you get blown like those leaves.)

Rage N Anger

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 00:48:00 +0000

RAGE & ANGER

Rage! Anger!
Rage! Anger!

Verse 1:
My days been crossed up. My thoughts been tossed up, and I’m a wreck of a man trying to understand this playerhaterism damn!
You can run but you’re wastin’ your breath and energy.
Goaltenders pretend to be friends and even family.
Sanity! I’m close to edge goin’ nuts.
Life is a struggle, I strive, but I’m headed for a nosedive.!!!
Mayday! My payday’s short of a check.
$5o dollars from the street with this tension in my neck, and my next step is bread and water; pawn shops, to cop money for my needs.
Lord I’m prayin’ on my knees!!!
I’m getting hotter than lava drinking my guava and gin, making my head spin.
My anger’s no stranger to a secular sin.

Chorus:

Verse 2:
I feel like I’m about to explode.
Loaded with this drama and pain.
Echoes of isolated thoughts bounce around in my brain.
I treat others how I want to be treated. They don’t comply.
I’m fed up constipated with this anger and I want to cry.
I try dealing with my feelings, but they deal with me.
Fluid runs from my eyes, and I can no longer see.
Being the bigger person hurts when everybody’s got pride, so I swallow every grudge and hope to God that I die!!!
Maybe a corpse will make the blind see what I think.
Maybe I’m better off dead is what I feel when my hearts sinks.
Blinking, thinking, feeling, dealing, knowing that I must…
Calm down in the silence of sound thought before I bust!

Chorus:

Verse 3:
I’m trying to get a grip on it, man before I perish in flames.
I’m through jumping through hoops, hurting, playing everybody’s games.
I got to maintain.
My sanity’s close to the edge.
I took a deep breath and spit all that needs to be said.
I can’t take it no mo’, fake it no mo’, forsake it no mo’.
I feel relieved from my head to my toes.
Family and friends act like leaves in the winds, treating me like I’m a stranger, but we don’t need to pretend.
The truth hurts. In spurts I grow.
My eyes open to see a frost bitten drama thawed out to my reality.
Insecurity dies, wounds heal and steps get maid.
I can't afford to be consumed by anger and rage.

Spoken Word:
Through the flames of pain emerges the truth.
Ignorance shatters and new growth drinks dew.
Renewed in faith after the Anger subsides,
Rage disappears like tears from an eye.

Chorus & Build out...

Demon!

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 02:20:00 +0000

I want to unleash all that is unholy, unsacred, blasphemous, awkward, screwed, evil, mean, angry, vial, volatile, disfigured, aborted, contorted, distorted, abominable, merciless, self-centered, and all that is unpronounceable...

but...

You are not a Demon!

I see the exact opposite in you and cherish the lessons I hold back like vomit. I love you. I see you. I understand.

My Lower Mind curses me. My Body screams at my Spirit! My Soul embraces me and whispers...

"...embrace the pain..."

First High

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 05:50:00 +0000

Lookin' for the first high again...
She got loaded and addicted.
She got hiiiiiiggggh and can't leave it alone.
She got everything and wants a greater high.
Lookin' for that greater hit.
Searchin' for the magic that makes your eyes roll back and your head spin...
Wantin' the lift that makes you floooooooat away and forget all your pains...
Lustin' beef and the milk without the Calf or the Cow...
Lookin' for the wings without the cacoon...
Without the crawlin' and eating of leaves...
Such a tiresome and boring thing to do...
Too mundane to work through the difficulty and stress...
I just want to fly...
I just want the honey...
Give me the support, but...
keep the work.

Why do I feel like this?
Where did the ecstasy go?
I can feel myself...
I don't want to feel...
I just want to fly...
This isn't workin' anymore...
I only want the euphoria...
Someone stop this train!!!

Transition

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 14:18:00 +0000

Morning calls for my attention.
Bridge leads the route.
Beach embraces routine date.
Fog fades and clouds play peek a boo.
Light shines and waves curl with welcome...
Water baptizes locks in bliss.
Companion barks with obsession ~ "throw it again!"
Shoes fill with magnetic star dust, nano-diamonds, and ground rock...
Feathers whisper, "make me into something."
Clarity washes melancholy into oblivion.
Breakfast eases a rift.
Conversation lightens mood.
Music sooths every nerve.
Drinks transform vibes.
Dinner with jazz.
Sleep brings me here.
Work takes me away.

SPEAK!

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 06:36:00 +0000

In a rush...
where the bubble bursts...
Emotions expand...
over floors...
pouring reality...
Cleaned up for more.
Feeling sore...
heart aches...
obsessive...
these ideation's.
Frustration is tangled with changes.
The bait was clearly a lure.
Explored futures are riddled...
with family ties...
and stress.
The will to stand firm...
is cut and RE-pressed.
The boundaries are Grey...
and will be until MADE clear.
With or without the present...
That time is ever near

You can
Say wha'chu' mean
Be rejected
But Respected
OR
hold your tongue
and prepare
It's in the waiting room.
So,
NOW is the time to
Eleviate the NEXT
Just
walk all that talkin'
and liberate your breath
SPEAK!

09/14/2008 Atiim Bomani Chenzira aka Blackulah

Transparent Passion Trance Poem

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 19:50:00 +0000

TRANSPARENT PASSION TRANCE POEM
we went to Yellowstone...I can't even begin to say it, it was so astounding!!!
the last day was like being on the most brilliant peyote high...everywhere our eyes lit, was litto the point of stupifying the critical mind I went beauty blind (as in snow blind) my eyes and heart ached...
Antelope trotted across the sloped plain looking back over it's shoulder
I said "Watch the animals, look where they look."We had seen many signs warning of bear activityWith my eyes I followed the prong horn's gaze thinking a bear might be approaching saw a flurry of beige to my right over a ridge
suddenly locked eyes with coyote on the hunt
I must have looked small maybe the red I was wearing looked like blood
his ears forward, a quick crouched pace...predator directly towards me, his approach filled with intent
Alarmed, I exclaimed "What do we do, it's a dog, it's aggressive and it's coming right at us!?" you said "It doesn't even see us."my attention held to coyote's dead eye contact I declared "Yes it does! What do we do?"you said "Don't run."I said "Get a rock."
at the beginning of this I had turned my video camera on and focused it on coyote during all of thisI could feel his fangs tear my limbs clamp down on my flesh taste my blood this is what I saw through his eyes
you found a large rockwe turned to face coyote ready to fight
coyote came near looked us both overyou are so tall and we were ready
coyote thought twice veered to the right of us, skirting our stand changed his posture to a gesture of "'JES KIDDIN!"
but, as he looked back over his shoulder he bared his front teeth and snarled a quick one "FOILED AGAIN!"
then, coyote sat down and scratched just like any other silly dogand continued his pursuit of antelope
who was by then, LONG GONE!
coyote we are linked in three phases
driving, soon after that we passed a coyote trotting nonchalantly across a meadow of tall green grassesfull of intent, once again in pursuit of antelope, maybe doing what coyote's do in their world
then, all of a sudden coyote was at road killon the lines seperating the lanes seconds ahead of us
you mumbled a quick cursebut, wisely did not swerveavoiding an accident probably avoiding killing coyotewho was so quickhe spun around and tore off to the right our bumper just missing himonly the tick of his tail tapping our fendertold of coyote's near fatality into the desert he had disappeared
we saw everyone's babies in Wyoming we saw a 3 day old moose 2 gangly and homely cute teenage mooses lanky elk baby bison children sucklingmountain goat kids appearing from nearby cliffs bleeting and playing just a few feet awaya teenage black wolftearing at a large carcass of white ribs sticking up from an ice cold riverso close we glimpsed a blonde grisly digging near the highway and a black bear grazing on a hill, limping it's paw injured
We saw a mother black bear with brown & black twins she bathed in a spring beneath a tree exhausted from raising her two babies tumbling, then scrambling up a tree like a flash you could barely seereally close, really mellow I have footage to share with you
we saw every kind of wild land formation...things to make me aware of my limited imagination visions beyond me
we saw god
the Universe spoke behind my ear pulled mewhere there is no hearing pure presence
to petrified trees on a mountain slope above signs that warned of eminent death to the left "BEAR ACTIVITY, DO NOT ENTER, MANY PEOPLE HAVE BEEN KILLED!"
humbled, I surrendered
I was so stoned!!!
I am transformed, purified "Stoned emmaculate!"
if anyone asks my religionits Wyomiac
i wept to leave
and when we did, I wept again...
The week after we returned home our very good friend, an incredible musician, comedian, philosoper, literat i and compulsive a homeless person who proudly slept on the beach played for coins at the Bart, gave his life to art...died...
his coyote got him...he probably OD'd
it could have been you, had you not made the decision to fight for your life to do what it's takes to have your life in a right way
he was one of those brilliant stars that streaks across a lightless sky he was like "Into the Wild" mana truth seer and sayer
his unique brilliance was over come by his circumstance and conditioning
I got footage of him performing two weeks before he died
it's on the Youtube website
The weekend after he passed we were digging in our yard the wind was blowing a different and particular kind of wind fabulous, wild not cool not hot shooting and curling, playing buffeting and tugging at you from every side
things were bright, alive filled with motion and breath
I felt extremely exhilerated, awake the world was full of charged energy, esctatic presence complete connection
I believe they stay around for a while you can talk to them they talk to you you find yourself staring off just staring off
LISTENING
seeing pictures feeling them
He was there.
he was the windthe leavesthe grasses and weeds the bugs and flowers the sky the dirt
I was filled with amazement, joy
and I felt "He's in everything!!!"
my face lit with surprise I turned to you, whose very close friend he had been your body filled with grieving I looked all around us and said"NOW, HE'S IN EVERYTHING!!!"
He's in everything!he IS everything I am in every thing I am in him I breath him in he's in me, us
ALL OF US
transformation
he is no longer confined by the matter which focused himthe flesh through which he gained experience, felt pain the matter which manifested and reflected him, expressed him
he is freeand still will be missed his; him and only him perceptiveness, wit and bouyance
he has returned or evolved
it makes sense we come from everything or the nothing thing we all return to it all re-enter and become IT ALL
the trees, the leaves, the water, the dirt, the airthe windf illed with spirits is the breath we breath
energy
transformed I no longer have fear in my heart.
My surrogate mother is dying of cancert here have been deaths of elders in my tribe recently I dedicate this to her, to them, to him...to you...to all of us!!!
Thank you.

Sheva Brachot under the chuppah

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Sat, 23 Feb 2008 02:30:00 +0000

Sheva Brachot under the chuppah – interpretive translations by Yoav Potash

ONE & TWO (read by Amy Hordes; creative expression by Sharon Hordes)

Blessed are you, Adonai our God, spirit of all creation, who plumps the grape and makes the scraggly vine into a sapphire necklace of gleaming fruit. Blessed are you Boundless One, who created the fruit of the vine.

Blessed are you, Adonai our God, source of all life, whose whole creation testifies to your glorious everpresence.

THREE (read by Beth O.; creative expression by Jon Astmann)

Blessed are you, Adonai our God, spirit of all creation, who formed humanity from this earth, and filled every man and woman with the life of your breath.

FOUR (read by Liora Kahn; creative expression by Dave Plotkin)

Blessed are You, Adonai our God, spirit of all creation, who has shaped humanity as a reflection of you, patterned after your likeness, and enabled humankind to perpetuate this image, yours and ours, out of our own beings. Blessed are you Adonai, shaper of humanity.

FIVE (read by Jen Shaw; creative expression by Lenice Cally Smith)

May the barren and the unfortunate be gladdened with an ingathering of children and an outpouring of laughter. Blessed are you Adonai, who gladdens Zion with her children.

SIX (read by Liz & Keelan; creative by Nachman Weitzman)

Grant joy to these loving companions as if they are first setting foot in the Garden of Eden. Blessed are you, everpresent God, who gladdens the bridegroom and the bride.

SEVEN (read by Atiim; creative will be communal singing of Hebrew)

Blessed are you, one true God, divine force of the universe

Who created the joy and gladness we feel inside,

Guide the steps of this groom and this bride

With merriment, song, dance, and delight

Love, harmony, peace, companionship, and light.

Adonai, our God, may we soon hear them

in the cities of Yehuda and Jerusalem,

the voice of joy and the voice of celebration,

the voice of gladness and the voice of jubiliation

the voice of the bridegroom and the voice of the bride,

may the rapturous lovers be encircled with the pride

of friends and family – soon let us feast and sing

let us lift them high on angels’ wings.

Fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers,

Let us bless God who unites the bride and groom to rejoice in each other.

SPINNING ME STUPID

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Tue, 02 Oct 2007 23:22:00 +0000

fuck you hero!

I'm supposed to give it all up
for just one moment in your arms

the hero
the man
the next che
the next ghandi
the next who ever the fuck you might be

the next hero
of all our dreams
COME TO SAVE US FROM OUR PATHETIC REALITIES

charismatic
with a touch so soft
a smile so warm

able to work 16 hours a day
six days a week
and still make love like a god

Fuck you hero

I'm supposed to
level myself

prostrate
at your feet
worship you

do me do me
DO ME

next....

fuck you hero

hero worship
I was never into it
did my stint following in mothers steps
a momentary groupie

devastated by fame
living for proximity
to tell me
I'm someone

FUCK YOU HERO

I'm the hero
I'm the hero of my dreams

I'm the hero
up on the horse
facing the foe
that ruins us all

I'm the hero
on my horse
riding with yall

all you men
of myth and fame
all your words and glory
the struggle of all your story

MEN
I've been taught to put above me

on ur horses
singing the charge
counting cou

while women wait at home
with kids and gruel
picking berries
warming sherrry
for the home coming

putting their dreams and talents on hold
supporting you in your endeavor

mrs pollack did she have any other name
and all the others
did they ever exist
shadows in your flame

you with your words and thoughts
and deeds
her pregnant with your seed
waiting by the fire for your return

keeping the money straight and coming in
to fuel your battles and performances

shit on that
what about MY PERFORMANCES

sit your ass down
and support me

gimme, gimme, gimme
your blood and future
so I can go forth and slay golliah, america, godzilla

and make me the hero

so, I can
run the miles
to keep in shape
build the muslces
to kick ass
have the time
to think the thoughts
that change the world

hey, man
you carry the fucking baby
stroke its head to sooth it's crying
as I leave it and you
one more time again
to pursue the challenge

you
do the laundry
clean the cobwebs
warm the bed
for my heroic return

you
spend all your time
and creative energy
chasing the kids around the house
making peanut butter and jelly sandwhiches
for their lunch
feeding the dog

YOU DO IT

you be humble
and thorough
you be humble and homely

as pretty women line up
to touch my hero's hand
to glean just a little light
of my rage and fury

as pretty women
offer themselves as trophies
and delicacies
to tempt my pallat
stroke my hero's vanity

rewards
to gorge in
to peak
the peak
of blood shed
frenzy
to release me

back to exhausted and
normal

a day with the kids
sensitive sex with the wife
who has
of course
remained
celibate, mother mary and matyr
longing for my touch
my return
my success
while I've been so, so long away

always looking to me
with those eyes
filled with
devotion and
gratitude

calling me on my shit
for this I respect HER

she knows me
and I can count on her honesty and
care taking

my risk making
every hero needs
a home to come home to

every hero.....................

.needs
his unsung
MARTHA

FUCK THAT

fuck you hero

get that fucking kid
up off me
and the fucking laundry

I want to be the one to play
the one to fight
the one to bleed
the one with light
to give
to the lines of waiting devas
whose only desire is the touch of my hand
the brush of my lips
on their cheeks

and

FUCK me
all stupid and star struck
all stank with hero worhship

girl,
fuck me
ain't nothing real about it

the attraction
all confused
all messy
and fan based

I don't see clearly
the one before me
its all
tossed with massage oils of glory
no real story

I don't live with the bastard
like you do
put up with his shit
like you do
clean his fucking toilets

listen for god knows how many times this makes
to his
rants and rants and rants
and raves

I don't put up with the shit
you do

girl,
what I think I'm feeling
ain't none of this real

I haven't seen him like you do
all hung over and stinking of bile
curdled and sick on the bathroom floor
odorous with another woman's pussy
and lies to cover

and fuck that!!,
you can have it!!

I haven't seen him like you do
haven't had to live the role you choose

and he hasn't seen me
IN THE MORNING
my hair sticking straight up
my brows unplucked
looking all scarecrow and frantic

girl,
it ain't real
its all from the audience
all from beneath the glorified stage
looking up to see something
bigger, BETTER

than me...

illusion
I don't know him

MR. HERO

I'm just here
star struck and stupid
some teenager waving her panties high over her head
waiting by the stage door
sucking the bouncer's dick
just to get in
and be able to suck hero's dick

give him that quick boost
of power
to see it in his eyes
when he comes
to pretend its mine
for one moment
one second

that's all he'll give
for the reassurance he gets
for the suck on his egodick

notice me, notice me
lil fuck that I am

fuck me silly........
then what

SHIT!
fuck me, girl
I'm full of shit

ain't nothing real about this

and...
fuck you hero,
fuck you!!!!

fuck me with all my dillusions
fantasies and pathetic teenage infatuations
bought and sold by the hype
the package
the shine

fuck that!!!!
fuck the hero worship
all sides of it
women dripping everywhere
home and abroad!!!!!

I'm the hero

I'M THE FUCKING HERO
THE HERO OF MY FUCKING HERO WORSHIPPING DREAMS

let me sling MY panties up on the stage
of my own performance
get my own goddamned attention
and HAVE SOME OF THAT FAME BRUSH OFF ON ME

to make me more than I feel I am

let me
be my own fucking groupie bitch
sucking on my own hero's dick

repeating insatiably
anything, anything!
to be with you hero
for just one moment
just one second

proximity fascination hallucination

let me apologize to my own wife
sitting faithfully, dutifully, guiltily at home
let me say to her...
sorry, girl
I don't live with hero's shit
clean hero's toilets...wipe hero's dick

so sorry.....................to over on what's yours
in reality

IN REALTY
it's a role I don't want
a play I don't seek
from any side

and fuck this sense of powerlessness
that motors it
this helplessness
that makes me need a fucking hero, anyway

fuck my humaness
my goddamned vulnerability

fuck the need
the need to be
a hero

#2
Hero, HERO!!!!
people need heros
heros
to look up to
to stand up and be brave for them
to be an example
to be more than they can be
to manifest what they could never

to go through the pain
and come out unscathed

survivors
to save them from the inevitable

to come back from the dead
with just a quick shot of adrenaline

human flaws and weaknesses transcended

super heros, Jack Bauer's
healing from life taking wounds
in a second

and we need real life hero's
real people to lead us

gomez-pena's making songs of our fears
voicing what we could never find sounds to
making sense of what haunts and elludes us

leyba's, confronting taboos
BOOOOO!!!!!
and miasma's of flesh hysterias

coyotes in the sheep's flesh
human's confronting humans

real hero's
but, none the less
bigger than life
bigger than real
bigger than you
bigger than me

and buffoon heros
like the Tick
all stumbling bumbling
unphased unscathed
innocent, ignorance
wise and foolish
all dumb luck
inhuman luck

that's me
in this fucking hero worship delerium
dumb and where's the luck in it

a woman
vulnerable
trying to find the courage
to stand here
to sustain your gaze
for one instance

and not run screaming
in shame
of my helplessness

related to you, what you do
or don't

related to my powerlessness
in this world
the immensity of it
this life

a small creature in the vastness

ready to bolt
naked
unprotected

bared
waitng for cruxifiction

a human being

standing here
not running screaming inside or out

standing here
biting her lip
bleeding

standing here
not being something else

standing here
exposed

standing here
naked in surrender

trying to connect
with another
human-being

through the haze
the maze

the overwhelming need to be
a super hero, in a suit

so no one will see
the real me

especially not you

#3
to be a hero
is to be
simply honest
real
flawed

to stand it

to suffer, struggle

feel

and not deny it

this takes a hero's courage

all human's are hero's
simply to live through a day
one day to the next

in denial and faith

accidentally finding
strength
a moment of courage

to face themselves
in the immensity
that confronts them

each moment

#4
to my cat

who I rescued from the streets
at four weeks

I'm a hero

she suckles the blanket in my lap
confident of this

Posted and written by:
Coy @
Decoy.com

"Why words matter"

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Fri, 27 Apr 2007 01:54:00 +0000

Titled "Why words matter"

Is hate served by microphone humorous or as ignorant as people running around in white sheets?
Category: News and Politics

Monday, April 16, 2007

Is hate served up by microphone humorous or as ignorant as people running around in white sheets?
Category: News and Politics

When human potential is not valued enough to talk to the people we disagree with, hate, killing, and conflict are inevitable outcomes. If we are unwilling to talk people we are at odds with how much are our values worth? I mean the values that we want to share with our children, and they will share with theirs.

Protection of life is different from protection of a point of view, or monetary resource or a piece of land. This is all very difficult in light of the losses at Virginia Tech today. I am sure all our hearts go out to the students, their parents, the Virginia Tech administration, and their community at large. There has to be a picture of America where everyone can see a future for themselves and their children, and killing each other is not part of the formula here or abroad.

Monday, April 16, 2007

Is hate served up by microphone humorous or as ignorant as people running around in white sheets?
Category: News and Politics

Never forget that this is suppose to be a land of officials giving voice to THEIR constituencies concerns, and hopefully the higher ideals within their communities. For democracy to work people have to be willing to FORCE the machine to work. Like a bicycle someone has to be working the paddles. If the problems that we see in our proximity are not a call to action then what will be? Is silence the prize that we are all struggling for to pass on to the next generation? I don't believe so. The market place is a democracy of sort in that people vote with their dollars, and are held accountable for the places they spend their dollars.

So, why are the calls for silence from those who would protect Imus over the young women he accosted? Those voicing disdain with the comments in the Imus case are taking to task the words he freely and without coercion put forward. Not even Imus called for silence on this issue himself, or through his wife who personally called for an end to people send hate mail to the Rutgers women's basketball team - much to her credit.

Young people are the hope for this world. Talk to people, discuss what you see and confront ignorance where ever you can with friends and without personal attacks. Some people may listen to you and their hearts.

Robert Fischer

Stuck on Safety....

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Tue, 27 Feb 2007 03:45:00 +0000

Well... I think bobbing at the top is better than being submerged.
Unless I had a yellow submarine or green herbs...
These words are blue but I'm tired of the current strokes.
I meditate, toke and always go for broke.
=I Am=
The creative elements combine...
And I've been chasing my cheese blocks in government lines.
This is a set-up and I'm fed up, but I'm living my dreams.
I don't have the means to pay, but I have the means to play.
And I'm ready for a scenery change, So I lock on how to bang!
and I load to shoot higher with all my fire for fame.

I'm on safety - Stuck
and I'm ready to burst!
I take it off and put Chance in a hearse.

I rewrite, rehearse, redo and I'm ready to flap!
I take a leap to put the crew on the map... or don't come back! (Click Clack... Boom!)

Checkin' you out...

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Tue, 27 Feb 2007 03:34:00 +0000

I see you watchin'...
Avoiding the fire of attractions I pause in thought to dance a little more and buy myself some time...
Time elapses and bodies part to corners of the plot, where buffers exist.
The drum beat pulls me back.
The dancing engulfs my mood.
Like a Lioness on prey you pounce and grab my vibrationz.
The smell is overwhelming...
The moves are synchronized...
Lyrics asking me "Don't you wish your girlfriend was a...like me? Don't you?"
The outside air calls our names to break from the crowd.
Reality settles into my heart and mind.
I'll take your email, but I can't spend the night planting seeds of another galaxy.
Lingering in temptation and smelling the sanity...
I'm checkin' you out.
Retreating to a pitched tent to sleep off the attraction that remains a drum beat in my adrenaline.
I cannot shake the virus in my cells that whisper "emmmmmmmmmmm".
The night is over and the new day has shaken me to release...
Alone.
I drive away in the moisture and ponder the lost opportunity or the great job... the missing taste and the guilt free feelings I protect.
"emmmmmmmmmmm".

The Balance.

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Tue, 23 Jan 2007 04:13:00 +0000

A vortex of simple emotions and situations...
unfold to reveal complexity...
only a perfect birds' eye view of all times can provide.

The awareness of each millisecond...
Creatures of moments...
Vibrating on a frequency that our Mother Earth has increased...
Our Universe supports...
Our senses can translate...
We can only speak of what we know.

Beyond our reality are infinite vibrations and possibilities...
ideas that dreams can only introduce with its' conscious and subconscious flow...
With its' mystifying similarity to the state of non-existence in our conceptions of life.
Living matter matters.

To accept any notion that cannot be measured by the tools in the moment of our existence is insanity... used in its' slang form.
Everything is linked to what mattered before in its' idea and physical form.
Evolution occurs and creatures look different, but are they smarter than before?
Different they are in many measured ways, but essentially different and/or identical?

A place where everything exists and all things overlap like the spiral of DNA...
Concentric cross-word puzzles or a grid of infinite numbers combining and colliding in every conceivable manner.
The look of random chaos in the moment may be...
only a glimpse of something so big we can only interpret it as such,
but it may be a well orchestrated experience with realms our non-matter Souls
can explain in the context of the moments we experience and with the tools we presently have available.

Seeds are planted as the Universe once was no bigger than a grain of sand.
Expanding like our understanding...
Preparing our Souls...
for another experience...
A fleeting moment that recycles our every atom and energizes our existence beyond the realms of understanding into a vortex of symphonic purpose.

...the places on the outside and in between the Yin and Yang of our ideas and collective experiences...

?What

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Sat, 04 Mar 2006 00:17:00 +0000

substituteif you can't get therealconnectionwhat will you settle forwhat WILL you settle forhow will you play it outwhat will you doto make yourself feellike you're in thereback in thereor in the general vacinity what will you settle for?how will you playitagain again againback thereits all you ever wantedall you ever forgotI WANT YOUI WANT YOUi want meto bemyselfagaini want you to bewhat you neverrememberwhat will you takeinstead?????what colorwhat shapewhat sizewill fitwhere it outa behow fasthow hardhow shinylook at melook againin therein youin mesurogatea pilla popa dicka cunta touchthat ain'tthere at alla pill a pop a dick a cuntthis face that onethis place and therewhat will you settle forwhen its not heresomething brightsomeone nota tripor securitywhat face will it havethis powerlessnessto dowhat needs to be donewhat color size shapenamefeelthe way it stealsyoudistractionsonly this only this ONLY THISbeforethere was beforeyou name itcall it to menowpowerlessness to connectreplaysreenactmentsfrom way backeverythingeveryoneeverythingeveryonecodeand before thatbefore thatbefore that...what was yourswhat was oursalways wasisalways wasiswasiswasiswasiswasiswasisforgetforgettingtouch

Processing...'Luv'.

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Tue, 28 Feb 2006 20:00:00 +0000

despite all i've said
and seemed to have decided
nothing would prevent me from
jumping right back into love
with you, if the door was still open that is

the yo-yo effect is still fresh inside me
and I feel its intensity
pulling my thoughts
north to south
my body still with the war inside
the energy is coming -
then ebbing and i wonder if it is you
the ache in my heart muscle alerts me of the pulling away
I try to hold on to my strength
for i have given so much in so little time
carried away on your sea of fantastic excitement and deep beauty

it is better to feel
to be open
and give what's real
then to wonder what could
have been
no regrets to ponder

reeling from your see-saw
a piece from my jigsaw falls off;
i pick up the pieces
they'll mostly fit the same,
Only a little shaving
of the edges to make them smooth again
the broken pieces leave
shards of glass behind
the big pieces can be mended
they can be glued again
in time for the grand re-opening
the key is on my chest
i am an open book, ready to receive again
ready to find love like i've never been hurt

there's a tugging and a pulling -
that means I'm still alive
from my center is always the desire to love
if not blindly,
then carefully, but passionately

It was a Near Miss
But more so a Near Hit
Eyes spoke with great Understanding
and Happiness at their meeting
they Feel In Love
but, They Missed.

Bands and rings of passion
still remain
seeds of love as well.

-DivaSonic www.myspace.com/divasonic

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Tue, 03 Jan 2006 09:00:00 +0000

Main writer: Atiim Chenzira
Contributing writers: Bekka Fink & Sheryl Membane
Performed By Bekka’s frogland Orchestra
12/31/05

SETTING: bowls of water, water gardens, and ferns in a few spots on the stage. 1 or 2 bowls with dry ice for steam. An atmosphere deep in the land of Mother Earth.

Follow spot on Squirrel or Hummingbird, as she moves to the side of the stage, busy-busy style, whispering...

SQ/ HUMM: pssst, pssst...
there is a sheet on your seat
that you will need
so keep it neat keep the sheet on your seat!
keep the sheet on your seat! (fading out as stepping away)
Bass (DOLPHIN), heard playing sparsely in blackout Quickly into Pools of colored light, in this order, up on Hummingbird (purple), worm (pink), Squirrel (gold), Dolphin (blue), and Dragon (red), and green wash over the stage grows , as others join in musically. The sounds form a village, into the tribal song. A community in action, a festival of peace. Dolphin plays the rhythm, slowly building as each animal introduces him/herself

HUM: (HUM PLAYS) I am Hummingbird. Joy medicine. Love charms. I cannot be caged, for if I am, I will die.
HUM continues, stops as…

WHALE: (WHALE PLAYS) I am whale I am the primal sound of creation, the potent energy and vibration of the undivided waters.

WHALE, HUM stop as…

DOLPHIN: (DOLPHIN PLAYS ALONE) I am the keeper of the sacred breath of life, carrier of rhythm. Layers and stops continue…

WHILE Frogland-themed song begining to form

SQUIRREL: a whirling dervish devilishly packed back into a tree, waiting out the winter to a disco groove unfolded in the solitude of storage, waiting, sustenance from opulence by way of squirreling. I am Squirrel. I know how to survive the winter without getting fat...how to take that nut you dropped, to save and burn it to keep us hot in cooler times.

WORM: I am worm. The dragon of the dirt. Earth, death, dissolution, cringing. The simplest form, the beginnings, the ends. Stop for Dragon…

DRAGON: I am the Dragon. The keeper of stories and ancient secrets beyond remembrance. I have seen the Wormland shaped from words with spirit, words that brought light and darkness from and breathed life, and before that… The light and darkness that created motion… Everything was All and All was One!

Then MUSIC IN FULL MOTION…Fogland chorus chords with call and answer words beginning as DRAGON continues…

There was a time that Everything and All were and lived as One on the One, and All lived in and with Peace and All hadn’t known the fruits Worries Tree, nor have they seen his face or known his name. It was a time of great and magnificent explosions and creations.

Key change to F#, staying in Jam, then…

Slowly the music begins to change into CHAOTIC FORM, and builds to a cacaphony. DOLPHIN leads an abrupt end.

The lights transition into some darker place, some flickering, a change.

A long Silence.

Dragon: When the sky fell, Everything and One stopped remembering how to understand the Spirit and words had no meaning. Worry brought Confusion and Confusion brought Paranoia and Paranoia brought Greed and War infested the Wormland.

A repetitive theme begins on the bass.
Dragon and Worm move together in some kind of 2-sided coin.

WORM: Dragon, What do you want to stand for in this world?

DRAGON: What is your biggest fear, Worm?

To audience

WORM: Dragon, What do you want to stand for in this world?

DRAGON: What is your biggest fear?

HUM or WHALE: Now is the time to use the sheet on your seat. On one side write one word that is your greatest fear, the other, your divine purpose. Then pass it down to the aisle for SQUIRREL/WORM to gather.

ALL : (Chanting, layered over one another, in a whisper) one word. Stand for. Biggest fear. Write one word.

Then squirrel gathers, gathers gathers...

When SQUIRREL/WORM leaves to crete poem,
WHALE begins CHAOS AMONG US groove.

Drum beat is cue for full stage of light with a pool of color DS Center

DRAGON: There’s been a war for since I can remember your existence, since before your grandparents and your parents and family could remember.

WORM/DRAG: (together speaking)The world was created in Light and the Light is always present with Darkness, for they are twins.

DRAGON: Now… The balancing is in motion and the Wormland is in War, struggling to remember the name and face of Peace and remember the one.

DRAGON and WORM dance. A bit of singing

SQUIRREL: (returning) I dart down the months which running and dodging overtake, puffy tail whirring. The storing of lint (no protein), of poison (too slow), of pain (also), of pointlessness, dismissal, daily attrition, I cannot bear, cannot hoist up the tree and into the lairthis squirreling burden of collection, thoughtless care. I drop the weight and grab the treasure. Words we made together I voice. Squirrel reads the weaved words from the audience. ALL echo/ improvise some words as SQUIRREL/WORK reads

DRAGON: The many in the Wormland will either cleanse or destroy themselves….Create or destroy themselves…
In….In beautiful

ALL: CHAOS!........

DRAGON: In beautiful

ALL: CHAOS!.......

All sing/PLAY CHAOS AMONG US.

THE END

Aspectz Of Me.

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Sat, 03 Dec 2005 16:54:00 +0000

Aspects Of Me…

My Shadow smiles at my Character and challenges my Norms to an arm
wrestling match at every given Opportunity.
Echoing Whispers creep out of the darkest corners in my Heart and
Mind to spark Paranoia’s attention.
The Sun shines on who I am while the Moon is still visible;
the Night
In my Woods will surely be completely black.
Fear runs naked, howling in tongues, and Calm holds me with
Reassurance.
"You are in the moment", Life says with an AS A MATTER OF FACT tone.
Panic, with its quivering hands, stands nearby waiting for the Chance to embrace me.
Faith grips my shoulders and Trust rubs my back while they stand in
careful watch of Imagination, whom drinks with Passion.
Those two can
get easily carried away with Logic, who is convincing enough
on his own.
Frozen stiff in my Mind and slivering into my Body,
I breathe deep to avoid drowning in Isolated Thought.
Unknown is omnipresent.
The flames of Rage and Love emit from my Center, casting Light on my Shadow,
for Surprise is always in his company.
In a world filled with unquantifiable Possibilities and
Miraculous Norms, Anything can live.
Patience overwhelms me after Pain visits my camp for warmth, but my bonfire is limiting.
Reflection meets with Assumption, but I ask them for Silence.
Still...In the night I sit and let my Senses relax in Meditation.
I stop Judgment from joining in and go with Time to Understanding.
On this path through the darkness with aspects of me.

By: Atiim Bomani Chenzira
(last edited, 09/29/08)

WORLD

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Sat, 26 Nov 2005 15:37:00 +0000

WORLD

World, you burden me with your sleep.

That blue fly, grooming itself next to the mattress reflects back to me my time as an exile, walking the streets of the town, showering kindness on the elderly, alcoholic cripples, the poor, the homeless-a time when, without a place to relieve myself, the clouds did so on me freely.

In the streets, I used both straps of my pack, went without a jacket in the cold, pretending to be a tourist
Still, then, as now, no one would touch, much less hold, my hands.

Pretenders to cleanliness, what did I get from you, who are so different from me?

( who eat for pleasure, not survival
communicate as a passtime, not from anguish
buy for leisure, not to find shelter
whose phobias are accessories, not birthmarks )

In the old days they called it woe. In modern times, it has no name, is just a presence, inescapable, greedy as a tapeworm, but with a more advanced brain

-itch of malaise in the rectum.

Ladies and gentlemen, come forward, bring your appetizers, refill your glasses-the eyes, lips of the head on the spike have been cut away, the heart rests in a crystal bowl of potpourri, the phallus, slit down the middle, spread, has been muzzled. As for the restI dont want to say.

Excuse this outburst from the pit. Dont be alarmed. Step around if you can. Please.
Go on with your toasts, your slow moving pleasantries.

Submitted: Friday 25 November 2005
From: Anthony Cooke

Georgia Kathleen Griffin's Poetic Contributions.

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Sat, 12 Nov 2005 18:16:00 +0000

http://www.gkg-arts.com
info@gkg-arts.com

gkg - georgia kathleen griffin

A resident of northern California, hoping to head south with my partner of 21+ years, Max Strycharske. We have two boys; my son, Adrian Eames (22 y.o.) and Max’ son, Peter Strycharske (25 y.o.). We are eagerly anticipating the birth of our first grandchild, to Adrian, and Wendi Byther, in May 2005. May there be peace on earth for this little one.

Miniskirting around

Miniskirting around like some dime store ice pop
Any color you like, no flavor but sweet
The cool dripping off your wrist before it hits your lips
Who are you with when you lay in my arms
Do I register in your mind as you caress my flesh
What do you hear when you render me senseless
Is there anyone with me in the heat of the night
Silent as death and twice as lonely
Sex alone with the one you love
Where are you going with me in your pocket
Am I with you or just stuck in the seams
Miniskirting around like some cheap ass whore
Any type that you like, no scent but sweat
The sap dripping off your groin before it hits my lips
Slime encrusted mattress memorial to the night
Broken clock, broken table, dead bulb, dead bug
There’s an ache but I can guess where it came from
Can guess it was you, who ever you were at the time
Pain, stone, fire, rage, ice, ice pop, ice queen
Ice cream in your hair from lapping the cone of some
Some dime store ice pop with his hair down to there
His pants full of melt in your mouth, not in your hands promise
Miniskirting around like a sad tired breeze fighting
Working its way from the shore to the boulevard with
The mist dripping off the air before you hit my lip
(c)2004 gkg

lemons
they hang
an embarrassment of riches
golden and swollen
rotting on the branches
they are no good
for lemonade
they work for cooking
they call to you
entreating you to
taste the sweet tang
they promise
they lie
(c)2003 gkg

“win the peace”
i keep hearing it - the new catch phrase
from both sides of the aisle, as they like to say
this is politics - where things break down neatly into
two sides of an aisle
bombs don’ fall so neatly
lives are not so cleverly dissected
reality isn’t so compartmentalized
there are more than two sides to any
argument, fight, battle, war, love, peace
how do you win the peace?
is there a method? a trick to it?
would it not have been bloody well better
to not have started the war than to struggle to
win the peace? especially since that peace is
looking a hell of a lot like the war? like
war with a new label?
if i put on jeans, and call it a dress,
am i wearing a dress? or am i just a bit
confused? it would be natural. confusion.
in a world where bombs fall and people are shot
as we try to win the peace, having declared the
damn war won as soon as boot leather hit sand.
a war no one believes in - in fact those shouting the loudest
in defense of the war (an odd concept if you ponder)
seem to be the ones who refuse to think about
it long enough to feel how foolish we are.
how cavalier with the lives of others.
our sons and daughters. their sons and daughters.
both sides of the aisle. and everything in between.
(c)2003 gkg

Weary eyes water, peering into the glare. Purple smudges deepningas the days grind on. Hands dry and cracking, grip
rifles, shovels, children, rubble, microphones. Dull aches, searing pains, exhaustion and despair weave an endless tapestry
of nights of mourning. Dreams of horror or bliss that cannot be. Never again.
Never again, we say. Everytime. We say it. We mean it. Every time. Another tin god, another street paved with gold.
River of oil. River of sorrow. River of tears, feeding a sea of grief.
Life is a fight from the first breath to the last. That which does not break us merely serves to strengthen us, no? And yet,
need we force futher strife? Need we shorten a child’s life? Blind him? Maim him? Rob him? Of love? Of peace?
River of oil... River of sorrow... River of tears... feeding a wallet of green.
(c)2003 gkg

black and blue day
hope glinting weakly
through the merest of cracks
nothing seems possible
everything
all too real
“this too shall pass”
it’ll all f’cking pass
we will pass
not fast enough
not nearly fast enough
(c)2004 gkg

let election day be open season on the f’cking neo-con right wing hyperventilating anti-Christian
christian coalition and evengelical liars - show them this country belongs to all races, all creeds, all
religions, all walks of life, and not to the very few self-anointed keepers of their faith in the almighty
dollar - stanch the flow of blood, stop the might makes right heavy fisted fisting of any unwilling
nation sad enough to be in need and weak enough to fall prey to them and their bombs and their lies
and their massive preemptive strike into the heart of another soul crying out in the darkness that has
become our global anguish - they preempt an innocent nation while the terrorists are freely recruiting
righteous youth to their side and we - we drive those children there with pistols aimed at their feet
forcing them to dance and run to the nearest safe haven where they will be taught to fight back to fight
the almight American weaponry our own insurgency commandeering their nation as a foothold an
stronghold and handle on the oil pump on the vast open lands on the dusky young backs of those we
rape and spit on whose hearts and minds were so willing to be led toward light and love but found
only death and shame - if death is inevitable then let it be in martyrdom to something higher than the
almighty dollar - what an easy way to sway the youth when they are already driven mad with fear and
fear can so easily become rage and hatred bred so swiftly if you know the way into the soul.
(c)2004 gkg

the posture foment
great pith and moment
the soul sucking surge of the heat
and the grasp that leaves me
bruised and alone
with nothing but a memory
on mammary on flesh
but nothing penetrates
the soul
you moved on
after you moved in
and the silence that was
poignant becomes a death knell
an annoyance
a contrivance
and i long to hear the children
the noise
the laughter
that might have been
if i had been
something and someone
i cannot be
i tried to give you everything
by taking away me
but that gave you nothing
but emptiness
i tried to give you security
by taking away me
but that gave you nothing
but questions and fear
i tried to give you happiness
but the pills keep taking away me
and that givees you nothing
but the shell of me
the me that is not me
the me that has no fire
no soul
no rage
and the moment has passed
i’m done licking your ass
and crying when you no longer call
for i know that some how
somewhere
there is me in your soul
that when the pills have finally done their job
and taken me away for good
i will yet remain
in your posture
in your rage
in the love that you give
uncontrollably - improbably
to the ones who need it most
who give you the least
because that is what you will give
yourself
because that is what you give
me
i gave you life, burt you never asked
why
i gave you life, but you never asked
why
i left your life, but you never asked
why
because
you know
because the pain
tells you so
or so i console myself
i don’t really know
because my brain
stops the flow
(c)2004 gkg

more than things we fear
stifling who we are for the sake of the other
more than the acid that floods my eyes at the oddest
moments like listeing to Cyndi Lauper singing
“Llittle one, little son
All my life I’ve wished you welcome”
and i have, I did, I do... and I mourn for the loss of you
loss of my own making, letting fear sweep me like some
torrential rain, waiting for the earth to swallow me
swallow my pain, swallow my heart as it burns in my throat
willing myself not to say the things I feel lest I drive you away
he did this - he and I together - though he is love - I tolerated
like an odd aunt who smells funny gives nice presents and may
some day leave something cool in her will or assuages the
guilt of a child fearing they were not worthy of love
how can I convey that you are worthy always were worthy
yet I was not able to fight for that which I wanted most
more than air more than light Iwanted you your love your heart
your time and feeling yet you go out of your way to meet his needs
to worry over his issues while he is the one who made you motherless
the one who drove me away no respect no love or effort to do a damn
thing to keep us together
self centered self possessed self involved self lost in the world of
self pity and woe is he for the dreams he never realized never bloody
tried to reach the potential it was supposed to reach him you can’t live
that way you can’t wait for it to find you it has to be searched for it has to be
desired and courted like the finest woman you’ve ever imagined
what you desire is not about money or fame
be the creature of light and air that pushed its way from my being
into the world with a joy thatI rarely see now, rarely know myself
if I fade away will you miss me
more than all of these, I have loved you.
(c)2003 gkg

This piece inspired a short musical interlude by a terrific young musician in
England, Chris Moss. If you’d like to hear it go to:
http://www.gkg-arts.com/creative_flow.wmv
Music by Chris Moss hi-fi ninja (c)2004 Buddy-on-a-slab musicTM
For more information on Chris, got to his website:
http://www.iminthehuzzi.tripod.com or to http://www.fletchlivesproject.com

rent flesh
sexual phrase, that
rent = torn
rent = paid for the use of
he rent her flesh in his passion
she rent his flesh btween her teeth
she rent her flesh slowly
he rent his flesh with one stroke
very flexible phrase
very suggestive
leaves me wanting
(c)2004 gkg

welcome
to the sisterhood
of broken dolls
knocked from the shelf
mangled
broken
torn
soiled
scarred
rage
pain
chaos
small hands clenched
pulling, ripping, gouging
punish dolly
bad dolly
if you weren’t so bad
I wouldn’t
have to do this
wouldn’t
have to feel this
wouldn’t
have to
wouldn’t
hurt
(c)2004 gkg

words drip from your toungue like honey from a roll
sweet and thick and enticing me to indulge
though i know, oh yes i know
there’s nothing good for me in there
nothing i need or actually want
just a base instinct to suck
at the teat of a sweet thing
to clutch the warmth and shove my face
headlong into your lies
muffle my mind with the heady
sweetness of your words
damp my lips with the heat
of your implications
i know i am lost
madness envelopes my soul
as i long for the words you say
to ring true
(c)2004 gkg

you’ve never heard me
you’ve tried, but you never really listen
I fear and I hurt and I rage
but you’re deaf
believing I am as you prefer me to be
I am sweet FA to do with that
I can act it - do act it - all the damn time
but I’d love, before one of us is gone,
for you to know who and what the
fuck I am all about
I fear and cry and ache
at the thought of moving from my corner
I boldly run about in full confident facade
but most places I am
I’d rather be any-fucking-where but there
(c)2004 gkg

i am the void
empty blackness opens within me
consuming me
engulfing and subsuming me
rage fills me, but it’s too much
too much work to release it
no focal point to aim it toward
sadness seeps from my pores
pours silently out in tears
unable to work out a sob
i am less than that
less than the dreams i have
less than my fondest hope
i am less than i project
far less than the image you see
i have faded from existence
darkness and ground glass
a home for my soul
bleeding in self pity
aching for the hate i feel
hate and rage within myself
for myself about myself
it is all about me
what i am what i am not
who i am who i am not
i am no one i am nothing
i suck
i am the voice of reason
of logic and pain
i am the hand of temperance
pulling back on the rein
you are nothing
you suck
you are the swirling void
sucking your soul
through a straw
blowing it out
a dripping red globule
splattered on the window
as the rain spits but cannot
work up a retort
(c)2004 gkg

your patience has an edge of rage
your generosity imposing unspoken demands
lying in your arms is an active phrase
nothing taken for granted, though
everything is taken for granted
your eyes have a depth
your soul a breadth
your mind a vision
your hand a thought
i can’t keep up
can’t stay abreast
of every new thing
you see want feel need
detours take you away
detours bring you back again
to a deeper calm with finer rage
an openness that bars all entry
a gentle touch that rips my heart from me
(c)2004 gkg

http://www.gkg-arts.com
info@gkg-arts.com

Theres A Bomb on the plane!!!

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Wed, 09 Nov 2005 18:54:00 +0000

There’s A Bomb on the Plane!

There’s a bomb on the plane!

There’s a bomb on the plane!

Kodabo aka Kobain:
There’s a hit in the sky!
Screamed why…Me?
Naw, naw, can’t do that.
I’m an old school trophy.
I dig that, but I’m thinking, but it didn’t work that way…
Peep the situation!
Some crazed cat said he had something strapped to his back and his chest-plate and not to make his fuckin’ day.
A nigga thought he was bluffing, so I asked him to see the explosives, so he exposed them.
It wasn’t a bluff card.
I paused…waited and thought, “what would MacGiver do?”
Plan 2, rush the fool.
He just hit a flight attendant too.
What am I to do?

Chorus:

I came to my senses.
Muttered under my breath, “man this is ridiculous.”
Took a stand. Looked at the crazed man deep through his eyes and seen his soul.
He knew that ‘it was on’.
He only had a couple of seconds to protect his thrown.
He didn’t make it though.
I’m thinking, “If I was fast enough for the hit…”
Soon as I thought this…TURBULANCE!
Threw him off of balance.
I got kids, trying not to get my tupee split.
It’s the worst that can happen thirty-five thousand feet in the sky.
No one wanted to die!
Atiim aka Black Bomani aka Blackulah:
I woke up early and I’m ready for a leap of faith
Into the skies…
I’m packed and ready to leave the gate.
The vibe is stale and everybody’s looking strange.
And I can’t put my finger on
it.
But that’s okay
It’s a sunny day
And I’m ready to leave.
Lift Off!
From the runway
The most dangerous part of a flight
At least I hope
But heeeere we go
Nose up
And I’m looking out my window
10 minutes pass.
The seatbelt light turned off
And I’m ready for some coffee,
Or maybe a beer?
I don’t care.
Man it’s cramped in here!
And then I heard a cat scream…. LOUD & CLEAR
“There’s a Bomb on the Plane…
“What the fuck?”

Chorus:

This is a muthafuckin shame!
Is this really happening GOD!
=What the hell is going on?=
Today I didn’t beat the odds.
Now should I accept my fate?
I can’t do it!
We won’t all die in vain
I won’t complain.
If it’s time to go...
Then man I’d rather go out fighting.
The plane shifts and dips and people cry and scream
This all a damn shame like it’s out of a movie scene
We’re headed for the White House
Although I can’t stand the games,
I can’t let these highjackers rain down the pain.
So we rushed em all and now were headed for the dirt instead
Today’s a really good day to die, and I’m already feeling the red.
I’m a second-class citizen…. But today I’m first class dead.
It doesn’t matter if there’s a bomb cause their cause ain’t fed.

Chorus...

Show me what your working with baby…

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Wed, 09 Nov 2005 06:29:00 +0000

Show me what your working with baby…

Chorus:
Show me what you're workin' wit' baby I wanna know in the worse way...
"Show me what'chur' workin' wit'!
Show me what you're workin' wit' baby I wanna know in the worse way...
"Show me what'chur' workin' wit'!
Show me what you're workin' wit baby I wanna know in the worse way...
Hey maybe we can put that to work say...
I'm at attention and I'm feelin' you vibe.
Doin' it live... If you come close you're doing it right.

Show me what you’re working with baby I want to know in the worst way.
Hey, Maybe we can put it to work it to work to…
Say…
I’m at attention and I’m feeling your vibe.
Doing it live.
If you come close…
You’ll be doing it right.
I want to see you shake it off
Break me off a bit.
Turn around and baby girl
Show me … what you’re working with.
I have to see it to believe it though.
So give me a taste.
And let it all hang out for Bo.

Chorus:

Turn around and let see you from the back.
Oh yeah… Like that…
Shake it baby cause you’re tightly rapped.
Touch your toes and let floor meet your bottom.
Your hips, I got em’…
My eyes, you caught em’…
Now you’re doing your thang.
Let me rearrange the flow.
Come close to BO.
Now give me your hands…
Pretend I’m your man…
Give me what you can…
Working overtime….
From your lips to your legs.
Your hips to the sweat…
Flinging and flying.
Shaking and baking.
Cause your making me move…

Chorus:

Me amour your just a sight to see.
A fantasy.
Enticing me.
A dream moving…
In reality.
Whispers In My Ear
Let me know where you want to go.
But we have to take it slow.
Girl you have let me know.
Show me on the floor right here.
What you’re working with.
Give your best.
I want to invest.
This here is a test.
I’m loving it all.
I can’t stop staring at what you’re wearing.
It’s treat to me.
Your skin is glaring.
And I have to see.
What you got for me.

Chorus:

Feeling the grove.
You’re looking so smooth…
Out here on the floor,
But give me some more.
OoooooowWeeeeeee
I Like The Way you flow.
I really want to know.
Do it on the floor.
Shake it baby.
Don’t be lazy.
Drive me crazy.
Ya Know.
Put your arms around my shoulders.
You smell good.
Girl I have to get closer.
The rhythm has us in a hypnotic state.
A trance.
A dance.
Haters looking at me crazy…
Cause they all want a chance…
Take a step back.
As a matter of fact.
Shake it baby.
Shake it baby.
Shake it just like that.

In pursuit of happiness...

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Wed, 09 Nov 2005 06:29:00 +0000

In pursuit of happiness...

Chorus:

In pursuit of happiness...
So nobody's home.
Their outside on a corner doing right from a wrong.
Counting every single second like it might be their last…
Looking up, but it doesn’t trickle down that fast.

In pursuit of happiness,
So nobody's home.
Everybody’s looking for it
So they’re all in the zone
Looking for chrome
And lavish thangs
A picket fence American Dream
Schemes and plots but it hangs on string.
And they dangle it in front of you
With a stick and a bet.
If you really want it baby you gon have to go fetch…

In pursuit of happiness
So nobody's home.
Their outside on a corner doing right from a wrong.

In pursuit of happiness
So nobody's home.
Their outside on a corner doing right from a wrong.

Counting every single second like it might be their last…
Looking up, but it doesn’t trickle down that fast.

In pursuit of happiness,
So nobody's home.
Everybody’s looking for it
So they’re all in the zone
Looking for chrome
And lavish thangs
A picket fence American Dream
Schemes and plots but it hangs on string.
And they dangle it in front of you
With a stick and a bet.
If you really want it baby you gon have to go fetch…

In pursuit of happiness
So nobody's home.
Their outside on a corner doing right from a wrong.

I’m looking for a trap door
Maybe I can climb outside
There’s no peace to what I’m feeling when I’m dealing with pride.
I’m shackled to debt
And waiting for a chance to rise.
I’m feeling pain and my brains got a glitch inside.
How the hell do I make ends meet?
When it takes money to make money?
Yall, I got to eat.
In over my head…
Trying to make my dreams come true.
My ladies ready to leave
=Now= what should I do?
I’ve been raised in fucked environments
Where the tumble weeds blow
Where a vice is the only grip to life that we know.
People lose their minds daily trying to feed their kids
And kids try to find a way up out this shiiit.
Living in a ditch
Trying to get rich
By any means that pay.
Man the whole world is stuck that way.
Fuck that way
The globe is addicted to the glamour and glitz.
So I’m in the studio trying push out hits.
In this web that was woven just for me and you
It’s a shame, but I gotta do what I got do
And it’s true...
I’m a slave to the dolla bill too.
So I’m a wade in the water till the day that I’m through.

Chorus:2xs

Waiting for a better day's tiresome.
People Hold On!
Fingertips hanging on a cliff got to be strong.
If God don’t save ya, then who will?
Have faith for a little bit of time to kill.
When the world turns everybody burns a bit.
Some greater than others
And that’s all, that’s it.
Being content is hard as hell
When you’re watching everybody else live on high.
Asking God for a piece of the pie?
I’ve been plagued with American Dreams.
Low self-esteem
In a city where the cash is king.
Arguments fill the air in neighborhood
Everybody struggles hard for a piece of the wood.
Some folks I know have more than they need
Try getting it on their own for their sanity.
Families keep a tight grip on all they do
So they’d rather be broke just like me and you.
On the streets people pass by
Riding on chrome.
While I walk to the bus stop trying to get home.
If I look at my life through the eyes of greed,
Envy all of the people who have more than me
I would never have a heaven in the life I live.
So I got to keep my focus with the heart of a kid.

Chorus: 2xs

Thomas Jefferson said life and liberty too
But how does that mix
With the thing we pursue?
In a maze trying to find a better way to live.
Like a dog chasing it’s tail
But when does it give.
Dealing with overseers
Egotistical men.
Paying chump change for the back I break and I bend.
Only giving up the minimum to people who work.
So a corner jobs tempting even though its in dirt.
It’s a shame.
How this game got us living a lie.
I aspire to live higher
And do more than get by.
So I have to keep two jobs to make it ahead, cause a man can’t live on only water and bread.
If I want to have material and lavish things
Midnight candles burn and the crickets sing.
Two suns pass by like the days don’t end,
For apiece of the pie, I’m gon’ do it again.
I wont pretend that I don’t want money to spare
If I had it
I could be almost anywhere
Living life with my liberty and doing my thing.
Happiness is equivalent to freedom’s ring.

Chours:2xs

Happiness isn’t money it’s what money provides
Some come from the green, but still aren’t satisfied.
In somebody else’s pocket
Under control and stress
So they’d rather flap or fall to leave duress.
Most don’t really have it, even though it may seem…
Credit cards got em’ slave to their brand new things.
Some don’t front they only deal with boulevard cream
And the street life liberty is their daily routine.
Gamblers take chances with the shake of roll Hookers hook for a buck on the midnight stroll
Players play the field looking for an okey doak
And the rest get caught up for a hit of the blow.
Some wait for the opportunity to come
Others chase their goals until their days are done
Round the clock at the bottom of this pyramid.
Living life in pursuit, that’s just the way that it is.
On a routine slaves wake up to the sun,
Working from 9-5 and then 6 to one…
Looking for way out of this ignorant bliss
Broken spirits shatter like glass pursuing happiness…

Extra Lyrics…

1) Many are content, but you know that’s a lie
If the chance were presented they would do it and fly
Writing in a room with my ear phones on
Think of a better day
When will it all stop, I can’t think of anything.
Waiting for a sign and I’m tired as fuck
Counting every single second and I don’t believe in luck
Sketching up a fantasy
Paint it with dreams

2) The futures bleak
Who the hell wants to burn for a chance at a dollar and a lesson learned?
Working hard only gets a meal to eat tonight. Stars on momma and your cousins too.
Every body's locked and loaded in this thang that we do.
The aim is so true
Get out of special circumstance
Circumvent this and collect 200 at go.
I’m feeling the blows when I shake and roll
But I suppose I should be more practical.
I’m just trying jumping ahead.
Cause I’m fed up with the situations my loved ones live.
Maybe I can be the one to give…
I’m tired dealing with bullshhhh

3) Kats get caught up in the streets looking for the rainbows end
Pursuing greener grass and their work day
I guess they never heard Houdini when he spit the definition
Sitting in a jail cell hoping and wishing

Parasite

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Sat, 22 Oct 2005 17:10:00 +0000

Parasite

The singer
The poet
The verbal angry screamer
Throbbed his way
Into the angry red eye
Opened to unveil him to thousands.
His white cotton skin
Already soaked with sweat
And the unknown
Gaped open throat
Showing snarling pubic-like chest hair
Lightly peppering
Soap untouched, sun unseen
Skin—skin that caged him in.

The instruments of his melodrama echoed
Tuning with tension
The tension of strained séance,
Bursting bras, and the eerie catcalls
To an otherworldly
Purely single-minded
Single-lit messiah.
He shook his head
And its unbathed mane
Concealing eyes gone insane
And with a simple profane
Pelvic thrust
The beat it began.

The dead man came alive
Fury fire futile weaklimbed
And body shaking epileptic
His head torn back tendons tightened
Mouth agape an infinite “o”
And he howled
An electronically amplified mumbled moan
To which he ground his body
Tight against the steel rod that was his mistress.
The audience moved in upon him
Hyenas on a collapsed lion.
He was choking through freshly drunken tequila
(He freshly drunk)
Everything moved around him
Round n round, round about
Our man suffocating
In-out, in-out
And everything was heavy
Everything was at its peak,
And then the lights went out.

Shawn Connor of San Francisco, CA.
3-31-99

Oh Pretty One

noreply@blogger.com (A Thousand WordZ) — Sat, 22 Oct 2005 17:08:00 +0000

All join now in lament for the death of my cock
j. Morrison

Oh Pretty One

When she was alive, she was cold like one dead
Now she is room temperature, or heated by some other.
She is a blowup-doll reborn
Bloodless and bored with regrets inanimate
Once she was an actress like Marilyn, but in polar black
Nights too many, in indulgence like material eaters orgasmic
Constant and unsweet in cool copulatory carelessness
now, with that softness
And those amber glass eyes
Glaring empty in opacity like two marbles lost
In what once was flesh and beauty exquisite and admired,
An indecent Madonna to whorish hordes like jollywood millions
iconoclasticians holding no faith in virtue.

They don’t see her now
Or hear the beautiful absence of her quick intakes of breath
As his or his breath heats her neck fog on plastic and shiny
In this steamed release, she takes the pounding of his muscle
Without waking thoughts, and without the pressure of waking
Till’ tossed aside always wishing for some other
Or passed like the cheap and tawdry heirloom
Of the loneliest family.
A decoration,
Dressed up pretty.
To be fucked by, or propped up against
Any and all that would hold her
Now, in her new life unlived and as eternal as Chinese hard plastic
She lacks movement and the warmth of a woman
Displaying only preternaturally perfect breasts
Tight against cheap French lace,
The low culmination of her charms to be abused.
And her blonde ringlets were stained red like fall maples burnt
After her twenty-four story fall, skull cracked and broken
Because she was so high and careless
Now in this body so used, so careless
the blonde ringlets written from her scalp suggest tragedy,
as the only physical testament of her life neglected,
a memory fallen, limp with regrets inanimate.

-Shawn Conner of San Francisco, CA. 10-22-2005