Halfrican Crackers...an evolutionary unique addition to the noosphere
Are in fact, members of the Octopus family.
Nomadic by nature, they live primarily on a diet consisting of
Maca root
Cacao
Yerba
Ginko biloba
Goji
And of course, hummus
I want to innovate, illustrate,
Each page a whisper,
Flowing in flux, like glistening rivers
Shimmering Egyptian pyramidic hierogliphics,
Instead of just saying some shit,
I want to explain to kids: If they say it is,
It is.
Not just to kick rhymes or punch lines,
On this mental matrix...
This is a cave wall painted for future generations,
Because I'm on some "Next Chakra Shit"
Come test moi,
My microphone wand is a shaman stick for crossing this bridge.
My microphone chord an umbilical to my environment,
I'm fingerpainting pure thought until it's visible,
Then rhyming it.
My eyelids are curtains dropping behind this,
Like wallpaper outlining geometric shapes in fine print.
Where all I have to do is close them,
Behold through them,
Assemble and mold through them,
And open them...to the fact that...
This is Rachel Carson's environmentalism,
Being the first to point the problem-the first to find it,
This is Jane Goodall reforming the sights of science,
Bringing the yin to biology-personalizing it,
This is Naomi Cline fighting the corporate uprising,
Writing picket sign words of the first defiance,
This is the writing of the rhyming,
Of the climbing of the highest of horizons.
Of the spiral, of the shining on the diamonds
Of our eyelids when we're smiling,
And I'm finding that defining it
Goes better with silence.
Much like their underwater predecessors,
Halfrican Crackers flourish in a habitat of sensory deprivation
Wherein they can create a visual-audio domain
For non other than purposes of communication.
In these circumstances, a symbiotic bond is established
With psychoactive fungi and coastal ganja.
I want to evolve into another species,
I want to clean clean the streets streets squeejee clean,
Like a squeejee cleaning the screen of my TV
Keeping dreams in a deep sleep NEEDLESSLY!
I want to eat, s*t, sleep, breathe in calligraphy,
I want to be an STD infecting NBC, CNN and CBC
With a glitch in my DNA raising my DMT,
Like a syringe, but a fire hose spraying LSD
On all the CEOs, the CIA and the PCs,
Doing crowd control, make them face their souls
It's easy! Like THC being decriminalized in BC.
We don't need the IMF or the US you see,
What we need are these FAQ's answered by an MC,
Any MC, addressing U and I, like the time was 2012 AD
Which is why...
This is Rachel Carson's environmentalism,
Being the first to point the problem-the first to find it,
This is Jane Goodall reforming the sights of science,
Bringing the yin to biology-personalizing it,
This is Naomi Cline fighting the corporate uprising,
Writing picket sign words of the first defiance,
This is the writing of the rhyming,
Of the climbing of the highest of horizons.
Of the spiral, of the shining on the diamonds
Of our eyelids when we're smiling,
And I'm finding that defining it
Goes better with silence.
Thus the genetic mutations and the virus-like qualities
Providing Halfrican Crackers their linguisitic coloration
Place this organism at great odds within the competive coral
Of it's monotone habitat.
Scientists are continually baffled with its tendency
To convert glucose into seemingly weaveless mimetic fuel
Through a photosynthesis-like operation.
This activity carries significant application with its ability
To secrete unclassified pheremones during climactic stress and mating season,
Which apparently lasts all year round.
Yes...all year round.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Friday, January 11, 2008
(Lyrics): EnlightenTHISment
Homage is Monsanto on the Egosystem, ya see...
There is a crystal clearing in the atmosphere,
This is the Hear and Now behind the Fear and Doubt.
Enlightenment is the taste of blood to a vegetarian,
It's willingly swimming in the shark aquarian,
It's hilarious
A joke you only get sharing it,
It's pi o'clock on the "Now" watch in this Age of Aquarius.
It's embarassment, like USA labelling terrorists,
It's a sham-a fake, with no way of comparison,
It's the air we're in, like fish conjuring water,
Skipping rocks across consciousness,
Near and farther...Enlightenment.
Hey Mr. Nuclear Physicist: enlightenTHIS.
Enlightenment is single parenting,
When young and arrogant,
It's a bomb squad's first and last chance of being careless,
It's the common thread between the Jews and the Arabs,
It laughs last,
And belongs to no man, land or heritage.
It dares risk,
Like strings cut from a marionette,
It's suicide:
Dying to be born back to awareness,
It's the air we're in, like fish conjuring water,
Skipping rocks across consciousness,
Near and farther...Enlightenment.
There is a crystal clearing in the atmosphere...
This is the Hear and Now behind the Fear and Doubt.
Within and without,
Near and afar.
There is a crystal clearing in the atmosphere...
Between the stars.
Enlightenment is everywhere Tibet wouldn't care a less,
It's a trend, it's "in" and television airs it.
...slipping through belief systems like sand through a hairnet,
It's a Christian's unconflicted inner-Luciferian.
It's garbage, glittering gold that another cherishes,
It's a clarinet version of an Internal Affairs disc.
It's the air we're in, like fish conjuring water,
Skipping rocks across consciousness,
Near and farther...Enlightenment.
Mr. Yoga Mat Man: EnlightenTHIS
There is a crystal clearing in the atmosphere...
This is the Hear and Now behind the Fear and Doubt.
Within and without,
Near and afar.
There is a crystal clearing in the atmosphere...
Between the stars.
There is a crystal clearing in the atmosphere,
This is the Hear and Now behind the Fear and Doubt.
Enlightenment is the taste of blood to a vegetarian,
It's willingly swimming in the shark aquarian,
It's hilarious
A joke you only get sharing it,
It's pi o'clock on the "Now" watch in this Age of Aquarius.
It's embarassment, like USA labelling terrorists,
It's a sham-a fake, with no way of comparison,
It's the air we're in, like fish conjuring water,
Skipping rocks across consciousness,
Near and farther...Enlightenment.
Hey Mr. Nuclear Physicist: enlightenTHIS.
Enlightenment is single parenting,
When young and arrogant,
It's a bomb squad's first and last chance of being careless,
It's the common thread between the Jews and the Arabs,
It laughs last,
And belongs to no man, land or heritage.
It dares risk,
Like strings cut from a marionette,
It's suicide:
Dying to be born back to awareness,
It's the air we're in, like fish conjuring water,
Skipping rocks across consciousness,
Near and farther...Enlightenment.
There is a crystal clearing in the atmosphere...
This is the Hear and Now behind the Fear and Doubt.
Within and without,
Near and afar.
There is a crystal clearing in the atmosphere...
Between the stars.
Enlightenment is everywhere Tibet wouldn't care a less,
It's a trend, it's "in" and television airs it.
...slipping through belief systems like sand through a hairnet,
It's a Christian's unconflicted inner-Luciferian.
It's garbage, glittering gold that another cherishes,
It's a clarinet version of an Internal Affairs disc.
It's the air we're in, like fish conjuring water,
Skipping rocks across consciousness,
Near and farther...Enlightenment.
Mr. Yoga Mat Man: EnlightenTHIS
There is a crystal clearing in the atmosphere...
This is the Hear and Now behind the Fear and Doubt.
Within and without,
Near and afar.
There is a crystal clearing in the atmosphere...
Between the stars.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
(Lyrics): Frozen Musik
You may remember such flavors as Hummus with Fromage,
But now, Halfrican Cracker is available in calimari,
Order your blogging Octopus today...
Now some of you know me as "this" or "that" name,
Or by my face,
Well I'm a half African, so call me Halfrican,
Like you: a little yang and yin,
A black panther, but a cracker rapping in the key of,
"Goddam! Not another white-black rapper chanting mantras in the forms of raps...man."
Well, I come to represent the contrast,
So don't make the mistake: I AM in the evening what I AM in the morning A.M,
Can the choir get an amen?
...and in my mind I can play it back and hear you say it again...
And what I'm listening to is the future, from the mind of Medusa
When we're living on the moon,
On Lady Luna.
In the future when we convert pollution so we can use it,
And that's not the answer,
That's the cannibus speaking in me singing me stanzas,
In smoke-ring clouds,
Lighting candle wicks on mannequin fingertips and then blowing them out.
I weave the opposites like peace and conflict together,
Check my consciousness like you're predicting the weather,
And that's blind, like numbers, where we've figured them out,
Numbers are colors and insects see them as sound.
You hear that now?
That's the sound of the Here and Now hearing me out,
Lost in the profound, to theme music mimicking me,
I pause.
...a bboy standing in my yoga stance,
'Cuz even yoda's bobbing his head to these rhymes I'm saying,
Before I pull a Leonard Cohen and retreat to a cave.
See, I'm the only couch-surfer camper-van camper rapper,
Rapping both for amateurs and masters,
Hunters and gatherers,
Drivers and passengers,
Family men and bachelors,
From yours truly: the Halfrican Cracker.
...A spirit realizing his flesh,
Like mother's milk from the breasts of McDonalds' M.
I look at Bush as another Buddha blooming, so get used to it,
'Cuz truth is relative like lover-cousins at a family reunion,
So eat shrooms'n shit, pack your tent and rouse your camels,
They want to clean the earth but their minds are landfills,
With acidic opinions like fastfood bathrooms...
And they want to serve me?
They might as well fine dine a Mayan in Tacobell in Cancun,
So what have you?
I'm a do a little Charlie Chaplin rapping on mute, because...
Even a stone is frozen music...
It's like solar-panel paint you can paint on your homes,
Imitating chlorophyll on the molecular level,
So tap into it with your wireless electrodes,
Hands in the air,
Hiphop phone home: kneeling in prayer.
Hiphopping chakras, spilling energy from the stars,
Carving crop circle Zen garden on Hearts...
So pick a card:
There's 4 suites to speak of.
We got the spades, the clubs, diamonds, the hearts (making 4 seasons)
With red and black as night and night,
But examine this here: there's 52 in a deck, like the weeks in a year,
And if you add it up, it equals 365,
Where I cut the deck, like a jet splitting the air,
No re-running anything!
Every moment's an open mic,
Tired of watching tourists treat Gaia like a trophy wife,
So back to the shuffle: keeping our eyes on the calender,
Haunting shallow MC's like a night at the Palliser, because...
Even a stone is frozen music.
But now, Halfrican Cracker is available in calimari,
Order your blogging Octopus today...
Now some of you know me as "this" or "that" name,
Or by my face,
Well I'm a half African, so call me Halfrican,
Like you: a little yang and yin,
A black panther, but a cracker rapping in the key of,
"Goddam! Not another white-black rapper chanting mantras in the forms of raps...man."
Well, I come to represent the contrast,
So don't make the mistake: I AM in the evening what I AM in the morning A.M,
Can the choir get an amen?
...and in my mind I can play it back and hear you say it again...
And what I'm listening to is the future, from the mind of Medusa
When we're living on the moon,
On Lady Luna.
In the future when we convert pollution so we can use it,
And that's not the answer,
That's the cannibus speaking in me singing me stanzas,
In smoke-ring clouds,
Lighting candle wicks on mannequin fingertips and then blowing them out.
I weave the opposites like peace and conflict together,
Check my consciousness like you're predicting the weather,
And that's blind, like numbers, where we've figured them out,
Numbers are colors and insects see them as sound.
You hear that now?
That's the sound of the Here and Now hearing me out,
Lost in the profound, to theme music mimicking me,
I pause.
...a bboy standing in my yoga stance,
'Cuz even yoda's bobbing his head to these rhymes I'm saying,
Before I pull a Leonard Cohen and retreat to a cave.
See, I'm the only couch-surfer camper-van camper rapper,
Rapping both for amateurs and masters,
Hunters and gatherers,
Drivers and passengers,
Family men and bachelors,
From yours truly: the Halfrican Cracker.
...A spirit realizing his flesh,
Like mother's milk from the breasts of McDonalds' M.
I look at Bush as another Buddha blooming, so get used to it,
'Cuz truth is relative like lover-cousins at a family reunion,
So eat shrooms'n shit, pack your tent and rouse your camels,
They want to clean the earth but their minds are landfills,
With acidic opinions like fastfood bathrooms...
And they want to serve me?
They might as well fine dine a Mayan in Tacobell in Cancun,
So what have you?
I'm a do a little Charlie Chaplin rapping on mute, because...
Even a stone is frozen music...
It's like solar-panel paint you can paint on your homes,
Imitating chlorophyll on the molecular level,
So tap into it with your wireless electrodes,
Hands in the air,
Hiphop phone home: kneeling in prayer.
Hiphopping chakras, spilling energy from the stars,
Carving crop circle Zen garden on Hearts...
So pick a card:
There's 4 suites to speak of.
We got the spades, the clubs, diamonds, the hearts (making 4 seasons)
With red and black as night and night,
But examine this here: there's 52 in a deck, like the weeks in a year,
And if you add it up, it equals 365,
Where I cut the deck, like a jet splitting the air,
No re-running anything!
Every moment's an open mic,
Tired of watching tourists treat Gaia like a trophy wife,
So back to the shuffle: keeping our eyes on the calender,
Haunting shallow MC's like a night at the Palliser, because...
Even a stone is frozen music.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
(Lyrics): WoMan'n Man
I stand before as my consciousness, but don't get me wrong:
Skin and Flesh? Mocassins! -I'm talking about walking within.
Within riddles, thoughts and concepts,
Logic, reasons and knowledge...
I'm not a noun, and neither are you if we're a part of each other's process.
What I'm sharing is good news, but it's a word of caution
For, many of us are invested in seeing ourselves as objects.
Separate entities, lost and anonymous
Customers, clients, cogs in the machine
Constantly clocking
As if we're pawns being played, and our fate is of causelessness...
As if we're names on a list,
Or mere faces of an audience.
And maybe you're right,
And maybe that's not...
And we're created to create and nothing really is "wrong."
We could be the flesh of the stars, afraid of our own light,
With every past and future life ever lived IN ONE TIME.
We could be the patterns of pi,
Extension chords dangling from the night sky,
In one sight.
And from these eyes: You are the Big bang.
...the fingertip extended from Heaven's Hand.
A whisper wishing Thanks to be given this inner glance,
...the seed planted PROVING the union of Woman and Man.
Woman and Man.
...your ex-Lover's fond memories,
Two halves of truth.
...perfection unrecognized, and I'm not trying to flatter you.
I don't have to: Everything Speaks for itself.
You're Jesus walking on water no less than anything else.
You're as close to Mother Nature as a bag of granola,
...Jahweh, Jah, Muhammad, Buddha, Moses, Jehovah...
Innocent.
Condemning ourselves in our ignorance,
And I don't mean to offend you, but how can anything ever "sin"?
We're hobbits holding hope from Gollumn's common non-sense,
There ain't an entity BRAVE enough to be your opposite.
Woman and Man.
I see wizards, withdoctors, shamans and monks,
Priests and popes amongst us flaunting Souls like alms.
And it took me this long to see it: We're like mirrors,
Reflecting images mirroring back, each time more clearer.
And when two mirrors face each other with no image between them,
They stare at infinity, always still, and always reaching
...possibilities unseen, the potential the wizards dream with,
We are the imagination of one, with one handful of meaning,
And everytime we saw this, it rippled through history,
For two mirrors facing each other is everyone's mystery.
Woman and Man.
Skin and Flesh? Mocassins! -I'm talking about walking within.
Within riddles, thoughts and concepts,
Logic, reasons and knowledge...
I'm not a noun, and neither are you if we're a part of each other's process.
What I'm sharing is good news, but it's a word of caution
For, many of us are invested in seeing ourselves as objects.
Separate entities, lost and anonymous
Customers, clients, cogs in the machine
Constantly clocking
As if we're pawns being played, and our fate is of causelessness...
As if we're names on a list,
Or mere faces of an audience.
And maybe you're right,
And maybe that's not...
And we're created to create and nothing really is "wrong."
We could be the flesh of the stars, afraid of our own light,
With every past and future life ever lived IN ONE TIME.
We could be the patterns of pi,
Extension chords dangling from the night sky,
In one sight.
And from these eyes: You are the Big bang.
...the fingertip extended from Heaven's Hand.
A whisper wishing Thanks to be given this inner glance,
...the seed planted PROVING the union of Woman and Man.
Woman and Man.
...your ex-Lover's fond memories,
Two halves of truth.
...perfection unrecognized, and I'm not trying to flatter you.
I don't have to: Everything Speaks for itself.
You're Jesus walking on water no less than anything else.
You're as close to Mother Nature as a bag of granola,
...Jahweh, Jah, Muhammad, Buddha, Moses, Jehovah...
Innocent.
Condemning ourselves in our ignorance,
And I don't mean to offend you, but how can anything ever "sin"?
We're hobbits holding hope from Gollumn's common non-sense,
There ain't an entity BRAVE enough to be your opposite.
Woman and Man.
I see wizards, withdoctors, shamans and monks,
Priests and popes amongst us flaunting Souls like alms.
And it took me this long to see it: We're like mirrors,
Reflecting images mirroring back, each time more clearer.
And when two mirrors face each other with no image between them,
They stare at infinity, always still, and always reaching
...possibilities unseen, the potential the wizards dream with,
We are the imagination of one, with one handful of meaning,
And everytime we saw this, it rippled through history,
For two mirrors facing each other is everyone's mystery.
Woman and Man.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
(Lyrics): FractalRant
You know what they say,
"Coincidence is what's left over from a bad theory."
...the cosmic backwash from a hard swallow,
So don't hear what I'm saying: See what I mean.
It's like,
We hold our ears to the seashell of some voice,
Enveloping intelligible yelps, grunts, hums and such,
Which even to a chimp, must sound profoundly like raindrops striking piano keys,
But don't hear what I'm saying: See what I mean.
Let's not wrestle with words,
Which merely robes our breath, breathed into this balloon of suspended space,
...hung in front of us, holding both meaningfulness and deceit that to a pin-pick could
PPPPPPFFT!!!
When we're sitting in silence itself,
I'm not speaking- I'm still learning to breathe,
Please don't hear what I'm saying: See what I mean.
You must excuse the squeek, chattering-click-burp of these words,
I haven't learned to exhale nakedly yet.
Plus these fantasies flirt back, and I'm sure of it
As sure as Magic,
As Lovers
The fall of empires and corporate merges.
If you hear what I'm saying, you may be missing the point...
And that's all these are...
Pointing down roads, towards intersections from signposts.
These, points of a fractal grid, desperately mapping what moves and lives,
Where, if you see what I mean,
See what I mean painting sunflower seeds smiling in spirals.
...A double helix speaking in tongues,
Blowing seasons through an Ox's hollow horn,
You know those "Zeros and Ones" encoded sounds from the Source.
I swear there's mountain monks shopping at Wal-Mart,
Deciphering prices of sales
Falling and rising
With tides of the ocean's timing.
And to that end...I'm willing to bet,
The telling of tales, or landing of heads
Is a cyclical flip of a coin of Da Vinci's I Ching making its points
I beg you: Don't hear what I'm saying in exchange to see what I mean.
See the spinning Sufis, spinning Rumi,
Rolling sushi like David Suzuki doobies,
Lucidly living,
You and Me
Meaning the meridian points of the city's chi,
Acupuncture potholes funneling coffee cream,
Exchanging goods between the true and the beautiful.
Meaning being molcules where Air is the altar we lay our needs upon,
Inhaling DMT dreams because "give and take" implies scarcity
And it's all for the sharing
Naymean?
So I'm singing a song sang once,
I'm saying so!
Chasing the other half of rainbows,
Making halos
Saying: One Life, One Love, One Payroll
See what I'm saying by seeing what I mean,
Taste trees with tastebuds to the outer edge of that eye's horizon,
Sink stars, tracing questions marks in sand, sound and stone
Pulled to a cone point
From the Milky Way to DNA
Spiralling to a pinhead size of a...SHHHHHH!!
Don't listen: Look
Into the eye of the cyclone.
The drum hollow between the Now and the Big Bang dotted blank,
Twisting Milky Way to DNA
To Ying Yang
Fate and Chance
Singularity
Spun
To
One
Listen to me?
See for yourself.
What I say is "Thank You"
What I really mean is...
"Coincidence is what's left over from a bad theory."
...the cosmic backwash from a hard swallow,
So don't hear what I'm saying: See what I mean.
It's like,
We hold our ears to the seashell of some voice,
Enveloping intelligible yelps, grunts, hums and such,
Which even to a chimp, must sound profoundly like raindrops striking piano keys,
But don't hear what I'm saying: See what I mean.
Let's not wrestle with words,
Which merely robes our breath, breathed into this balloon of suspended space,
...hung in front of us, holding both meaningfulness and deceit that to a pin-pick could
PPPPPPFFT!!!
When we're sitting in silence itself,
I'm not speaking- I'm still learning to breathe,
Please don't hear what I'm saying: See what I mean.
You must excuse the squeek, chattering-click-burp of these words,
I haven't learned to exhale nakedly yet.
Plus these fantasies flirt back, and I'm sure of it
As sure as Magic,
As Lovers
The fall of empires and corporate merges.
If you hear what I'm saying, you may be missing the point...
And that's all these are...
Pointing down roads, towards intersections from signposts.
These, points of a fractal grid, desperately mapping what moves and lives,
Where, if you see what I mean,
See what I mean painting sunflower seeds smiling in spirals.
...A double helix speaking in tongues,
Blowing seasons through an Ox's hollow horn,
You know those "Zeros and Ones" encoded sounds from the Source.
I swear there's mountain monks shopping at Wal-Mart,
Deciphering prices of sales
Falling and rising
With tides of the ocean's timing.
And to that end...I'm willing to bet,
The telling of tales, or landing of heads
Is a cyclical flip of a coin of Da Vinci's I Ching making its points
I beg you: Don't hear what I'm saying in exchange to see what I mean.
See the spinning Sufis, spinning Rumi,
Rolling sushi like David Suzuki doobies,
Lucidly living,
You and Me
Meaning the meridian points of the city's chi,
Acupuncture potholes funneling coffee cream,
Exchanging goods between the true and the beautiful.
Meaning being molcules where Air is the altar we lay our needs upon,
Inhaling DMT dreams because "give and take" implies scarcity
And it's all for the sharing
Naymean?
So I'm singing a song sang once,
I'm saying so!
Chasing the other half of rainbows,
Making halos
Saying: One Life, One Love, One Payroll
See what I'm saying by seeing what I mean,
Taste trees with tastebuds to the outer edge of that eye's horizon,
Sink stars, tracing questions marks in sand, sound and stone
Pulled to a cone point
From the Milky Way to DNA
Spiralling to a pinhead size of a...SHHHHHH!!
Don't listen: Look
Into the eye of the cyclone.
The drum hollow between the Now and the Big Bang dotted blank,
Twisting Milky Way to DNA
To Ying Yang
Fate and Chance
Singularity
Spun
To
One
Listen to me?
See for yourself.
What I say is "Thank You"
What I really mean is...
Monday, January 7, 2008
(Lyrics): Follow it!!!
Alchemically speaking,
This is a lead to gold secretion of secrets.
I'm speaking as a fractal fetus, curled in yin-yang symmetry
With soliliques, from the tip of the teeth, down backdown dripping decibles,
My tongue prays for peace, like it was an octopus tentacle.
And so with six limbs I swim,
Through the toxic ligaments like I ought to,
Rap like I breakdance, breaking preconditional body dogma,
Knowing any man is only as free,
As the circular reach of his collar,
Behind his own bars, he tattoos "Freedom" on his sexuality chakra.
Haunting the edges of Weird,
Life prevails in the clearness of light with a strange smile,
Like Walt Disney consciously alive right now, frozen in ice.
My mama told me I was born beside a 12 year old giving birth herself,
To an incestual infant-two generations of babies of ill-health.
Like this culture of catapillars,
Worshipping mythical butterflies.
Where no one has ever seen a mature human being ever, like
"Wonder why..."
I tell you my brothers and I, find the insight more times when all seems empty,
It's all energy, so let's slice shit from shine with this psychic machete.
Psychologists call it Consciousness
Feminists call it the Goddess
Dinoaurs had once called it the Comet
Politicians call it the Politic
I'm calling it the Sacred Nonsense
And whatever you call it: Follow it!
Socialists call it Communists
Esoterics call it the Knowledge
Philosophers call it Logic
Moralists call the Conscience
I'm calling it the Sacred Nonsense
But whatever you call it you gotta; Follow it!!!
This is a lead to gold secretion of secrets.
I'm speaking as a fractal fetus, curled in yin-yang symmetry
With soliliques, from the tip of the teeth, down backdown dripping decibles,
My tongue prays for peace, like it was an octopus tentacle.
And so with six limbs I swim,
Through the toxic ligaments like I ought to,
Rap like I breakdance, breaking preconditional body dogma,
Knowing any man is only as free,
As the circular reach of his collar,
Behind his own bars, he tattoos "Freedom" on his sexuality chakra.
Haunting the edges of Weird,
Life prevails in the clearness of light with a strange smile,
Like Walt Disney consciously alive right now, frozen in ice.
My mama told me I was born beside a 12 year old giving birth herself,
To an incestual infant-two generations of babies of ill-health.
Like this culture of catapillars,
Worshipping mythical butterflies.
Where no one has ever seen a mature human being ever, like
"Wonder why..."
I tell you my brothers and I, find the insight more times when all seems empty,
It's all energy, so let's slice shit from shine with this psychic machete.
Psychologists call it Consciousness
Feminists call it the Goddess
Dinoaurs had once called it the Comet
Politicians call it the Politic
I'm calling it the Sacred Nonsense
And whatever you call it: Follow it!
Socialists call it Communists
Esoterics call it the Knowledge
Philosophers call it Logic
Moralists call the Conscience
I'm calling it the Sacred Nonsense
But whatever you call it you gotta; Follow it!!!
Sunday, January 6, 2008
(Lyrics): Divine:Friendship
Flipping through the pages of Odysseus...
Here I am, with glass in hand, to give to the Tantric
Woman and Man
Not just the ass and tits, but the 'passion and bliss' angle
Like digging my thumbs in the groove of your ankles!
It's the tenderness energy that doesn't need to come across honest,
The kind of Love that laughs at locksmiths.
The kind of Love that doesn't demand closure,
With or without clothes,
2 Souls quenching their bodies like two Thirsty Camels beholding the ocean.
Wearing your limbs like a roaserie,
Holding Namaste to your yoni like it was holy,
Brain-tip flickering tongue as if it was an April 20th rollie.
Rolling the Maui-Wowie, "How do you do?"
'Cuz there ain't nothing like the tantric-cannibus plant to Mellow the Mood...
Because it comes in waves, like cycles of night and day,
So let's take it non-linearly,
LIke there was all the time to take,
'Cuz sometimes time is made,
And I got time to pay, if you got time to stay.
On the banks of this oceanside I was thinking we should fly away,
It's like our time is some kind of highway,
Where every yellow-dotted line and our eyes seem to rhyme with "Thanks."
Divine Friendship on the street sign.
Baby, you're not a bitch,
We're just angels with animal appetites, (hope that sounds right)
No exclusive-rights like real-estate,
A Real state of mind, Divine:Friendship to the 9,
Looking fine when we're sitting, chilling, stripping, or just lying in a human pretzel,
I hold a breathful of the special sense as if that breast was edible.
So let's make a deal: I'll guard your heart with my own,
If you go easy on my ego, I'd like to keep on seeing some sequels,
You know, snowballs rolling down the rainbow of our backbones,
Turning off the phone, "Let these curtains close themselves!"
For the catapaulting force of 2 Souls in full health,
Rushing each other, getting our F* on, like "What else?"
Luminous Love.
You're not mine to own, whatever you want is fine,
It still reads, "Divine Friendship" on the street sign...
Here I am, with glass in hand, to give to the Tantric
Woman and Man
Not just the ass and tits, but the 'passion and bliss' angle
Like digging my thumbs in the groove of your ankles!
It's the tenderness energy that doesn't need to come across honest,
The kind of Love that laughs at locksmiths.
The kind of Love that doesn't demand closure,
With or without clothes,
2 Souls quenching their bodies like two Thirsty Camels beholding the ocean.
Wearing your limbs like a roaserie,
Holding Namaste to your yoni like it was holy,
Brain-tip flickering tongue as if it was an April 20th rollie.
Rolling the Maui-Wowie, "How do you do?"
'Cuz there ain't nothing like the tantric-cannibus plant to Mellow the Mood...
Because it comes in waves, like cycles of night and day,
So let's take it non-linearly,
LIke there was all the time to take,
'Cuz sometimes time is made,
And I got time to pay, if you got time to stay.
On the banks of this oceanside I was thinking we should fly away,
It's like our time is some kind of highway,
Where every yellow-dotted line and our eyes seem to rhyme with "Thanks."
Divine Friendship on the street sign.
Baby, you're not a bitch,
We're just angels with animal appetites, (hope that sounds right)
No exclusive-rights like real-estate,
A Real state of mind, Divine:Friendship to the 9,
Looking fine when we're sitting, chilling, stripping, or just lying in a human pretzel,
I hold a breathful of the special sense as if that breast was edible.
So let's make a deal: I'll guard your heart with my own,
If you go easy on my ego, I'd like to keep on seeing some sequels,
You know, snowballs rolling down the rainbow of our backbones,
Turning off the phone, "Let these curtains close themselves!"
For the catapaulting force of 2 Souls in full health,
Rushing each other, getting our F* on, like "What else?"
Luminous Love.
You're not mine to own, whatever you want is fine,
It still reads, "Divine Friendship" on the street sign...
Friday, January 4, 2008
(Lyrics): The Muse
Over the millenia,
Through the centuries of this adventure,
From various wombs, I've come through different placentas.
...been both of the genders,
Plants and animals, now sent as an intangible mammal,
Reincarnated, born and reborn, reborn and reborn in the original form,
I'm off to follow it to its source and appeal to the forces of
Socrates, Gandhi, Tupac, and Billy Holiday,
Janis Joplin, Buddy Holly, Khalil Gibran and Bob Marley
Salvador Dali, the weavers of needles,
We need you, for the Spirit of People,
And what you've been through.
The Muse in the Music continues,
Like invocations of the stories we sing to.
We breathe you.
Your lives that you've lived are previews,
To this celestial present you've pre-sent,
I'd like to present The Muse...
I was once an octopus,
Rhyming in sanskrit sign-language,
Pop'Locking mudras for the shrimp, the fish and the scallops,
I was once a praying mantis,
Balanced in praying position,
Perched on a mailbox, overlooking Atlantis,
Where I can catch patterns, waiting still as a stick,
Crouched-so not a flicker missed amongst the dim lit data,
Like Captain Ahab in Moby Dick said, confronting his fear,
"This is what we fished for matey!"
Gripping his spear...
While we behold the whale's eye, pearing back its reflection,
It's clear, that fascination is the spirit, pointing spears, piercing history
Right here.
The weary eyes and ears look upon it,
And hear it, "Run for your spears!"
And by "spears" not Brittany Spears,
But Shakespeare.
Mother Teresa, Lao Tsu and Rumi,
All the Sufis, Bodhisattva's, and Buddha's in you and me.
I'm talking Solomon, William Wallace, Mozart and Moses,
Martin Luther King, Muhammad, John Lennon, Spinoza...
These are the colorful hues of the Human
The Muse in the Music
The Hue in the Human continues,
I'd like to present The Muse...
Through the centuries of this adventure,
From various wombs, I've come through different placentas.
...been both of the genders,
Plants and animals, now sent as an intangible mammal,
Reincarnated, born and reborn, reborn and reborn in the original form,
I'm off to follow it to its source and appeal to the forces of
Socrates, Gandhi, Tupac, and Billy Holiday,
Janis Joplin, Buddy Holly, Khalil Gibran and Bob Marley
Salvador Dali, the weavers of needles,
We need you, for the Spirit of People,
And what you've been through.
The Muse in the Music continues,
Like invocations of the stories we sing to.
We breathe you.
Your lives that you've lived are previews,
To this celestial present you've pre-sent,
I'd like to present The Muse...
I was once an octopus,
Rhyming in sanskrit sign-language,
Pop'Locking mudras for the shrimp, the fish and the scallops,
I was once a praying mantis,
Balanced in praying position,
Perched on a mailbox, overlooking Atlantis,
Where I can catch patterns, waiting still as a stick,
Crouched-so not a flicker missed amongst the dim lit data,
Like Captain Ahab in Moby Dick said, confronting his fear,
"This is what we fished for matey!"
Gripping his spear...
While we behold the whale's eye, pearing back its reflection,
It's clear, that fascination is the spirit, pointing spears, piercing history
Right here.
The weary eyes and ears look upon it,
And hear it, "Run for your spears!"
And by "spears" not Brittany Spears,
But Shakespeare.
Mother Teresa, Lao Tsu and Rumi,
All the Sufis, Bodhisattva's, and Buddha's in you and me.
I'm talking Solomon, William Wallace, Mozart and Moses,
Martin Luther King, Muhammad, John Lennon, Spinoza...
These are the colorful hues of the Human
The Muse in the Music
The Hue in the Human continues,
I'd like to present The Muse...
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