work-in-progress

a spoken word piece written in under half an hour after being stood up for my birthday (10-Jun-2006) -- after I used the frustrated energy to create this, I went out and had an excellent night! Also found, read by me at www.youtube.com/watch?v=caYas7qrd3k

the sound of the profound never actually reaches my fingers..
it drips and slips away from where it may have once lingered
but here I hold strong and bold my mind inside this case of glass
just a life-dancer without any answers to the questions that I ask
and now your prophets perish inside your trophy parish
while the children refuse any longer to suffer in silence
the streets cry - the rivers run dry
and all conscious thought ceases
to prevail the veil of commercialistic devices
lost to our own vices...
the smoke, the drink, the pill ..
just one more and i'll forget yesterday and tomorrow
will be just another blue-collar day
wasting away
inside
the red of my mind
of my eye
of my thighs
I'll spread them wide
once more for your dollar bill, against my inner will, but I need that pill, so dont let the condom spill, I dont want to kill this child that hides inside my brain, never again, to see the dawn of day...

just let it all come crashing down around you
just let it all come smashing through
just let it all come crashing down around you
and one day you'll see - one day you'll know - one day is all you've got and one day is all it'll take ..

for you to fall, fall, fall, fall-away-from-here
if only you'd call, call, call, call-and-I'd-come-near

so dont let your fear hide in the mystery of the blind years of history
wake up your ecstasy from the fantasy thats alive in the idiosyncrasy of our failed monochromasy, the cybernetic theocrasy
we all must reside in the hypocrisy of society and no one can glorify the gority of suicide

the here, the now, the never again and that one time, just one time, it only took one time to addict the sick right from the quick and get stuck in the thick of it, the mix of it .. the trick of it is how to untangle the web we weave around our wounded walls of defense and in a sense, innocence to allow our mangled self a means to climb down from the shelf with comprehension of the wealth of information we possess.

just to be. not to be me, or to be you or to be sated or to be fated, but essentialy to be. to be alive. to breathe. to see and hear and watch and listen. merely to add to the chaos and subtract from the overall loss

and there I leave it, as it sits.. for what matters is this.. I am today. Come be, with me?

Reviews

[Mr. Deft Diction]

I'd love to hear this, because I think this is absolutely GREAT! There's a rhythm that just grabbed me and it all just flowed. These are the best pieces...ones that come from within after a let-down, disappointment, etc....or a great triumph.

Nice, NICE piece.