I keep swishers full of pine when im out here flossin
no gingivitus...just flirting with sinus cancer from all these lines i been coughin
chokein
consistently
cohersively
exploring this thesis for morning glory seeds
and without limitations from the overgrowth and the power of my fallen brothers keepers
I live every day like a rave.
I pray even more now.
ive been a bass head since I can't remember
ragin couches since late september
spocking ladies brain stems since M.N.R's taught me
how
to be an undergroundking.
Pirates on the street of DFW to the ATX
there I found my cigarettes...my whiskey habit...and insomnia in the form of art
sleep is harder for me than most people...my body rests...but my dreamscape is far developed
complex
the only reason i trade adderals for tramadols in the winters ending
the frogs are celebrating spring in athens county.
I live for pittsburgh...I live for that city.
so many kind hearted and genuine people...which is funny for a state that also has philly.
So many collaberations on new beginings threw a tremoultus end
to friends love
and relationships
which brings me back to charlottesville...oh virgina...my home
a place where my sensory memory is on overload...
so much so my eyes well up on the top of pride rock overlooking shanendoah
the valley of the dolls
the ones that mother sewed.
where the friendliest houses have bullet holes.
then back to columbus...nights of nitros and bisco
a house full of brothers you meet moments ago
now they pass the toke
they flip a quarter because your broke.
put on some more GZA and rail that last bump...tonight is barely enough to keep our spirits up...then here comes the sun
it shines on 5 lives that have been divided
you choose your own path...as does your muse
everyonce in a while we sit to commune
were afraid of what the darkeness can do
we live life inspite of dablooms
her eyes are as wide as mine until high noon
spoons full of hash make others brew
and conjur ideas of intermediated goals that they assumed were their own
but I travel the path alone
with phone calls from richmond that are the only ones to see HOW I AM
now WHO I AM.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Hayek and Keynes
Hayek and Keynes
Jesse S. Mitchell
I am nothing but noise here,
like organ swells and grace notes, bags of bones with strings of hair, skeletal
rattle rattle
Nothing but noise
Drained and dry…nothing but desert sounds and floods, nothing like sea,
nothing but a bunch of dry words like dust
Dry mouthed like cracked lips…not even words
Rattle rattle.
In fairness, in all honesty, the last word on the matter
Was nothing but bad poetry…not even words
Just drops of something not even liquid,
just drops of liquid
But it is a vow I intend to keep.
Salt water and half-fish eyed clouds…
They keep the ocean up above, no matter what they say
All around nothing but big round sky.
Surrounding the flat world on its back
Broken by weight
Water water water everywhere but not a drop to drink.
Way below me the children and gnomes talk
Money like Hayek and Keynes
But they are 6 million feet down
And I do not look down
6 million miles down
But I do not look down
Rattle rattle.
But I do believe in Blue skies
And I believe in warm weather too
I believe in the future.
Do not mistake me.
But it will not come by gaslight or fission
Torch flame or audacity
Or apparent lack of any or all.
It is a vow I intend to keep.
Magnetic like a storm, thunder and light and hot air
In the atmosphere but the breeze is a shame
Filled all up with swollen rain
With brackish drops, robotic ambiguity
But the wind call still carry words
Empty enough to fly
Hypnotic
“Midas has the ears of an ass”
“Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes”
“The ears of an ass”
“And she will have music wherever she goes.”
Our Copper Anniversary
It’s two months ago.
We are in a kitchen in Rome
And your head bows slightly into the steam coming off the sink.
“Penny for your thoughts,” I say
Which causes the beginning of a smile to be drawn
At Etch a Sketch speed.
I’ve seen this before
A smile you share with your not-so-little little brother
A roguish rue,
That I will go down often over the years to come.
“Keep the change,” you say.
“I don’t need the pennies” and to prove the point, a strand of copper falls down between us.
I realize then that I’ve my sayings mixed up.
“Pennies from heaven,” I try again.
But compliments won’t do at this point
Ears are deaf to the tales hair tells
“Scratch my head, fool” you correct me, still smiling,
You know that only hands really know how to listen.
And so I start.
My fingers follow in time
Each copper string I touch plays a note you’ve written yourself over the years
These are some of my favorites:
At 32 you wrote: Swedish men aren’t worth having to eat pickled herring
At 28: Litter boxes are tolerable as long as each night I can wear its owner like a fur cap
At 25: Spain is cool except in the summer. But loneliness sucks year-round
At 20: I still love Beethoven even though he didn’t write anything for the flute.
At 16: High school is bad. High school in South Florida is unbearable. Hasta la vista, baby.
At 11: Older brothers are mean AND they smell.
At 5: My oldest sister gave me a purple flower and told me purple is best. I agree.
At 2: I’ve decided to be shy.
At birth: In 34 years, I will meet a boy, and I will marry him.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
althea
I could say the right word
do the exact thing that makes you live again
speak no artifical hope
blow nothing but quality dope smoke until my lungs whistle like a train
Ive sprained these thumbs trying to get a ride
night in and night out
ive got a boquet of lies thats nothing to write home about
but you
youve got the most painfully beautiful deep and sad eyes
I want you to ride this crossroad boxcar over the pautomic down to the gulf
spend a night
in cresent city as we drink until the suns been up all morning
spend another night at the levy
armed with trainwreck and a semi automatic weapon
in the morning
coffee and a 7 hour trip down I-10
austin comes quick with no hints of assasination attempts
a glimpse into the daily happenings of a classy gentleman
ease
listening to my heart beat
ive felt my feet tap out relays
nothing stays the same
in these the otts
a rude way to constrict time and space in new ways
ive found odd times where the moon and sun shined so bright ive laid intertwined
in the ideas that i had,finally, lost my mind
though I place these notes into a bottle and toss it to sea
hopefully someone out there is just as confused as me
just as open to turning the course of this water tredding submarine
just as noble as a facade of revelry
no more understatements
only factual agreements that we had been stuck
move
stick
move
glimpse into the overgrowth
do the exact thing that makes you live again
speak no artifical hope
blow nothing but quality dope smoke until my lungs whistle like a train
Ive sprained these thumbs trying to get a ride
night in and night out
ive got a boquet of lies thats nothing to write home about
but you
youve got the most painfully beautiful deep and sad eyes
I want you to ride this crossroad boxcar over the pautomic down to the gulf
spend a night
in cresent city as we drink until the suns been up all morning
spend another night at the levy
armed with trainwreck and a semi automatic weapon
in the morning
coffee and a 7 hour trip down I-10
austin comes quick with no hints of assasination attempts
a glimpse into the daily happenings of a classy gentleman
ease
listening to my heart beat
ive felt my feet tap out relays
nothing stays the same
in these the otts
a rude way to constrict time and space in new ways
ive found odd times where the moon and sun shined so bright ive laid intertwined
in the ideas that i had,finally, lost my mind
though I place these notes into a bottle and toss it to sea
hopefully someone out there is just as confused as me
just as open to turning the course of this water tredding submarine
just as noble as a facade of revelry
no more understatements
only factual agreements that we had been stuck
move
stick
move
glimpse into the overgrowth
Monday, February 7, 2011
ROOTZ
new mission i guess in the new days...so i ask my muse this morning for inspiration..what should i write about...? what armani suit would best define my charecter. How loud should datsik be? the old woman next door needs a little wamp in her being,shit the same as me. were both eatin perscription drugs,mines for her knees,,,just kidding. Hunter S. Thompson covered the whole drug thing..im tired of trying to be old bull lee...ill keep his name though,and smoke ciggarettes for a few more months..sell a car buy an rv,as the souls of mischeif,i give it all i got,thats all i got to give.you got live and let live.
Collective Consciousness of Light and Love
It gets no realer when you preceive what you see as reality. No preaching only questions and,for lack of a better term,an oozie filled with words,which cut wat depper then those hollow tip bullshits. Its so weird how every ones a thug in the 21st year,or century,or whatever label some dude said it is. Sheetz for the kidz is so over played,theres enough drugs around the country to feed a family,but we destroyed the indians customs probaly because Alexander hamilton ate some psychocycliciban,had a really bad trip,and was scared of a headress..its just a theory...but who knows maybe im wrong,maybe the matrix and corporate conglomarates really do know whats really going on,because I sure dont. I see honest hard working americans lending a helping hand to complete strangers,buying me a cheeseburger because im trying to trade a watch some where in west virgina. Compassion isnt dead,self righteousness may be thriving,but even if the money or time or friendship is given for a wrong reason,at least it happend. At least I'm not delivering pizza at dominos,coming home at 4 in the morning ,drinking myself into obliveration,doing lines of whatever the fuck i could score,making beats,then playing video games until the rest of the house left for school and I rapped my lungs out making song after song,pouring out my heart and my soul. I miss you justin calva,man it just feels good to write your name,to cry onto this keyboard,to release that pain thats torn my heart since that day you passed man. You already know him,friends, hes that smile all over the world.Those dimples that look surgically imposed,like kirby in austin,or austin for that matter...still we run,because fear is the heart of love. And I know its a got damn death cab lyric people but give me a break,writings hard when pain fades. It becomes this wild experience,youve felt it in your work...that rush...the accomplishment..all those dirty words you mumble under your breath while you stomp your feet and beat those thighs like war drums. I found myself in florida,oh I wish I could convey to you the holy spirit I felt,it had nothing to do with any religon,just a light and shining flowing energy. Ive claimed for years I belive in all,all religons teach us somthing valuable,but also corporations are like leechs...they know their morals...they know their limits...pirannahs will eat you while your swimming next to so the person youd never thought would push you in..trials by fire light the road by night. Dont be afraid to say hi to a stranger,it may save their life.We all know those chicken soup for the soul books,I used to read that shit on the toilet every damn time at joe kemps house,or brent tittle,probally all of them,maybe none of them...but you catch my drift.
Ive never seen light so pure as i do with my muse,I feel creepy but their are sometimes when shes the only one in the room..for hours ive watched her hoola hoop,no matter who was talking to me,or trying to tell me where to go,because I know in my heart,you travel down your own road,and the best way is to do it naked,cold and alone. NO. One more,two more,three millon more,meet them on the road,trust your heart be weary of your surroundings,never get to comfortable,because we all have limits and to push them is an act of complete rigimortis of ones light they bestow on this world. We use this brain once,so we must share it with as many people as possible,to make it better for people to feel ok about not having to pay a toll for unselfishiness,because it all gets paid forward.We need not to be weary but to look for the signs,feel the love that resonates from each and every eye,wether wide,tiny,or normal sized,every one has a purpose to be alive.Oh dont think its all glitz and glammer,theyll steal your ideas to manifest thier own destiny...especially when I was younger I felt the presense of my elders guiding me as some sort of obi wan...call em guardian angels,call them a manifestation of hallucenations of a small possible schitzophrenia,or call it being so in tune with the energy that flows threw each and every heart that my light shines pure...I dont need riches,nor do I need gold.I dont need hoopdies,I dont need XBOX,I dont need swords.A fishing pole a tenet,an rv and a home base,and a bunch of family members I just met introducing each other to the rest of the gang.Have you ever seen the leprachaun in mobile alabama,you know...I wanna know where the gold at...well the guy with leprachaun flute who had it passed down from his great grandfather many many centuries ago (it looked like a bong I made out of pvc pipe once) said somthing that resonates with me to this day:
"Don't be afraid man...don't be afraid!"
Collective Consciousness of Light and Love
It gets no realer when you preceive what you see as reality. No preaching only questions and,for lack of a better term,an oozie filled with words,which cut wat depper then those hollow tip bullshits. Its so weird how every ones a thug in the 21st year,or century,or whatever label some dude said it is. Sheetz for the kidz is so over played,theres enough drugs around the country to feed a family,but we destroyed the indians customs probaly because Alexander hamilton ate some psychocycliciban,had a really bad trip,and was scared of a headress..its just a theory...but who knows maybe im wrong,maybe the matrix and corporate conglomarates really do know whats really going on,because I sure dont. I see honest hard working americans lending a helping hand to complete strangers,buying me a cheeseburger because im trying to trade a watch some where in west virgina. Compassion isnt dead,self righteousness may be thriving,but even if the money or time or friendship is given for a wrong reason,at least it happend. At least I'm not delivering pizza at dominos,coming home at 4 in the morning ,drinking myself into obliveration,doing lines of whatever the fuck i could score,making beats,then playing video games until the rest of the house left for school and I rapped my lungs out making song after song,pouring out my heart and my soul. I miss you justin calva,man it just feels good to write your name,to cry onto this keyboard,to release that pain thats torn my heart since that day you passed man. You already know him,friends, hes that smile all over the world.Those dimples that look surgically imposed,like kirby in austin,or austin for that matter...still we run,because fear is the heart of love. And I know its a got damn death cab lyric people but give me a break,writings hard when pain fades. It becomes this wild experience,youve felt it in your work...that rush...the accomplishment..all those dirty words you mumble under your breath while you stomp your feet and beat those thighs like war drums. I found myself in florida,oh I wish I could convey to you the holy spirit I felt,it had nothing to do with any religon,just a light and shining flowing energy. Ive claimed for years I belive in all,all religons teach us somthing valuable,but also corporations are like leechs...they know their morals...they know their limits...pirannahs will eat you while your swimming next to so the person youd never thought would push you in..trials by fire light the road by night. Dont be afraid to say hi to a stranger,it may save their life.We all know those chicken soup for the soul books,I used to read that shit on the toilet every damn time at joe kemps house,or brent tittle,probally all of them,maybe none of them...but you catch my drift.
Ive never seen light so pure as i do with my muse,I feel creepy but their are sometimes when shes the only one in the room..for hours ive watched her hoola hoop,no matter who was talking to me,or trying to tell me where to go,because I know in my heart,you travel down your own road,and the best way is to do it naked,cold and alone. NO. One more,two more,three millon more,meet them on the road,trust your heart be weary of your surroundings,never get to comfortable,because we all have limits and to push them is an act of complete rigimortis of ones light they bestow on this world. We use this brain once,so we must share it with as many people as possible,to make it better for people to feel ok about not having to pay a toll for unselfishiness,because it all gets paid forward.We need not to be weary but to look for the signs,feel the love that resonates from each and every eye,wether wide,tiny,or normal sized,every one has a purpose to be alive.Oh dont think its all glitz and glammer,theyll steal your ideas to manifest thier own destiny...especially when I was younger I felt the presense of my elders guiding me as some sort of obi wan...call em guardian angels,call them a manifestation of hallucenations of a small possible schitzophrenia,or call it being so in tune with the energy that flows threw each and every heart that my light shines pure...I dont need riches,nor do I need gold.I dont need hoopdies,I dont need XBOX,I dont need swords.A fishing pole a tenet,an rv and a home base,and a bunch of family members I just met introducing each other to the rest of the gang.Have you ever seen the leprachaun in mobile alabama,you know...I wanna know where the gold at...well the guy with leprachaun flute who had it passed down from his great grandfather many many centuries ago (it looked like a bong I made out of pvc pipe once) said somthing that resonates with me to this day:
"Don't be afraid man...don't be afraid!"
Thursday, February 3, 2011
valium,mushrooms and whiskey..thursday mornings
It seems diffrent these days...no minimum wage
just strange nights with random kids clear across the u.s. of A
I dare ya,nah I double dog dare ya
get out of that comfort zone,and make your home the body you were born of
no televisions no xbox kinects,just good old fashioned swimming,shitting and intercorse (sex)
I thought I was blessed with so many gifts that narcacissim was the only way to converse
look at my status symbols and force a smile over those forced : "words."
now I realize that their are so many flowers in this orchard
their vibrant undertones are an orgasim of sight,touch and intellect
always regret then forget the voice in my head yells
never be afraid to smoke a cigarette with the drunk old smelly bum,who was realised from jail an hour or so ago
hes got as much knowledge as any professer could spew,even if he slurs and stumbles
he'll have a better chance to make eye contact with you.
time traveling back to an anti climatic vortex of trailor trash propaganda known as republican v. democrat
ignorance for anyone whos cast their vote so they could quote un quote change the world
the illusion of being apart of a family
revolutionaries are armed with pens,knowledge and ammunition,and their dielect is so vicious it keeps the upper class ignorant
blind to the orchards of brains hanging from the trees of this so called under belly
dead are the days when the old man labeld himself by his religous prefrence and wages
long are the nights where we find ourselves by candle light,high,discussing the measures we took to be alive
I ride storms as if I was a vulture stranded to the inns and outs of this landmine
no more comfort zones,only snipers and timed bombs line my sidewalk
beartraps in my closet
its
alarming
just strange nights with random kids clear across the u.s. of A
I dare ya,nah I double dog dare ya
get out of that comfort zone,and make your home the body you were born of
no televisions no xbox kinects,just good old fashioned swimming,shitting and intercorse (sex)
I thought I was blessed with so many gifts that narcacissim was the only way to converse
look at my status symbols and force a smile over those forced : "words."
now I realize that their are so many flowers in this orchard
their vibrant undertones are an orgasim of sight,touch and intellect
always regret then forget the voice in my head yells
never be afraid to smoke a cigarette with the drunk old smelly bum,who was realised from jail an hour or so ago
hes got as much knowledge as any professer could spew,even if he slurs and stumbles
he'll have a better chance to make eye contact with you.
time traveling back to an anti climatic vortex of trailor trash propaganda known as republican v. democrat
ignorance for anyone whos cast their vote so they could quote un quote change the world
the illusion of being apart of a family
revolutionaries are armed with pens,knowledge and ammunition,and their dielect is so vicious it keeps the upper class ignorant
blind to the orchards of brains hanging from the trees of this so called under belly
dead are the days when the old man labeld himself by his religous prefrence and wages
long are the nights where we find ourselves by candle light,high,discussing the measures we took to be alive
I ride storms as if I was a vulture stranded to the inns and outs of this landmine
no more comfort zones,only snipers and timed bombs line my sidewalk
beartraps in my closet
its
alarming
valium,mushrooms and whiskey..thursday mornings
It seems diffrent these days...no minimum wage
just strange nights with random kids clear across the u.s. of A
I dare ya,nah I double dog dare ya
get out of that comfort zone,and make your home the body you were born of
no televisions no xbox kinects,just good old fashioned swimming,shitting and intercorse (sex)
I thought I was blessed with so many gifts that narcacissim was the only way to converse
look at my status symbols and force a smile over those forced : "words."
now I realize that their are so many flowers in this orchard
their vibrant undertones are an orgasim of sight,touch and intellect
always regret then forget the voice in my head yells
never be afraid to smoke a cigarette with the drunk old smelly bum,who was realised from jail an hour or so ago
hes got as much knowledge as any professer could spew,even if he slurs and stumbles
he'll have a better chance to make eye contact with you.
time traveling back to an anti climatic vortex of trailor trash propaganda known as republican v. democrat
ignorance for anyone whos cast their vote so they could quote un quote change the world
the illusion of being apart of a family
revolutionaries are armed with pens,knowledge and ammunition,and their dielect is so vicious it keeps the upper class ignorant
blind to the orchards of brains hanging from the trees of this so called under belly
dead are the days when the old man labeld himself by his religous prefrence and wages
long are the nights where we find ourselves by candle light,high,discussing the measures we took to be alive
I ride storms as if I was a vulture stranded to the inns and outs of this landmine
no more comfort zones,only snipers and timed bombs line my sidewalk
beartraps in my closet
its
alarming
just strange nights with random kids clear across the u.s. of A
I dare ya,nah I double dog dare ya
get out of that comfort zone,and make your home the body you were born of
no televisions no xbox kinects,just good old fashioned swimming,shitting and intercorse (sex)
I thought I was blessed with so many gifts that narcacissim was the only way to converse
look at my status symbols and force a smile over those forced : "words."
now I realize that their are so many flowers in this orchard
their vibrant undertones are an orgasim of sight,touch and intellect
always regret then forget the voice in my head yells
never be afraid to smoke a cigarette with the drunk old smelly bum,who was realised from jail an hour or so ago
hes got as much knowledge as any professer could spew,even if he slurs and stumbles
he'll have a better chance to make eye contact with you.
time traveling back to an anti climatic vortex of trailor trash propaganda known as republican v. democrat
ignorance for anyone whos cast their vote so they could quote un quote change the world
the illusion of being apart of a family
revolutionaries are armed with pens,knowledge and ammunition,and their dielect is so vicious it keeps the upper class ignorant
blind to the orchards of brains hanging from the trees of this so called under belly
dead are the days when the old man labeld himself by his religous prefrence and wages
long are the nights where we find ourselves by candle light,high,discussing the measures we took to be alive
I ride storms as if I was a vulture stranded to the inns and outs of this landmine
no more comfort zones,only snipers and timed bombs line my sidewalk
beartraps in my closet
its
alarming
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