Step cautiously, the gravel here is suspect
Subconscious Jargon; an excerpt
…Audio manuscripts inventing audacity or reinventing an ancient art
nostalgia woven within white widow’s web wondering where were saints n’ bards
conquistadors of literature hiding under bedsheets away from the thunder
drowning out the sound o’ chatter and clatter of pots and pans and bent spoons
grasping onto sanity slipping over the edge on an island marooned
organ shattered starry eyed monsters claiming hearts as plunder
pounding at a bed of ice in water solidifying the blood pumping within
puzzle pieces with edges jagged that don’t fit like overlapping skin
summer sun spraying out rays of heat melting the ice
crimson blood spreads onto the page weaving through cracks and passageways
symbols and patterns left behind, trail let out by the fingers packaged pain
stacks of bandages abandoned in asylums once housing the trite
ripped a hole in the grey matter secreting insanity and genius
like used condoms pierced with hypodermic needles, sadly fiendish
feverish expressions as brick walls collapse and fences topple down
late nights filled with discourse far surpassing the primitive
broken promises carving scars into the paved road’s printed wit
a jester juggles the heads of kings subjugated to the legion of clowns
elegant leaves make their final bow and take their leave
auditoriums erupt in applause masking smug pretentious envy…
Hiding behind the veil of anonymity..
masked crusaders hurl out their insecurities
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Joanna Newsom
—Instrumental 1999
Joanna Newsom - Instrumental 1999
Drag City posted this instrumental track that Joanna recorded when she was just 17 years old back in ‘99. “No singing here — no songs per se to be sung yet!” Just 6 minutes of beautiful harp playing.
(via vaginawoolf)
USA2012
In light of ‘trendiness’ of Kony2012 who is down to do something similar with the people struggling in our own country? (United States) Our own invisible children, men and women..the orphans, the homeless, the veterans that came back to a slap in the face.. those barely getting by in the ‘Land of the Free’ where the American dream strangled us while we slept.
Worms
It don’t mean a thing when you state back and forth
contradicting, opposing ideas incompatible pattern of thought
holding the name of manslayer with a reverse blade sword
like the leaders of this country your vote has been bought..
There’s no one waiting..anxiously by the fire place
hoping for my survival, praying that i’m safe
like a mannequin behind the glass watching gas guzzlers pass
there’s a fire within ready to break the cast off at last
feel the blood pump again..to the feet, wiggling toes
poltergeist dancing below hoping rain will show
signalling most but not all of the rain clouds
like the Chinese warning of Mongols invading
winding the morning back for more console gaming
then forward negating daylight savings, bring your aim down
you don’t want to put someones eye out..
chairs and blankets stacked where bandits hide out
dim the lights, gaze at the stars overhead confined by bars of your bed
Screaming for attention, for the love we all search
down by the well with a bucket quenching thirst
first on earth to look down from heaven’s perch
a comet splashes through space particles
with the urgency of a christmas shopper
impacted with a planet as it tried so desperately to stop her
Carnivores eating herbavores, gone in a flash
volcanoes, tsunamis, starving and shit like that
worms crawling in dirt without the threat of birds
insects inspecting the wreck filling their notes with words
Morning Breath
I’m content with insanity, the way nothing goes how you plan it to be
long as while you danced with me,
I was happy as a bandit, thief,
Pulling’ in the big score, I found what it is that I’ve been fishin’ for,
there’s nothing I’d miss more than losing touch with the vagabond gypsy,
Climb to the top of the ship’s peak as the clouds are rollin’ in, the plunder stolen by men, the TV’s shades oldenin’ as barriers are broken, a heart is mended by the friends of Nightingale
Slipping into the sand looking slightly pale
I spoke to you words of sorrow,
Words that get me through tomorrow,
Paisley, flowers, that I borrowed,
The sea of green, speeding from the scene,
Eyes flashed five years ahead
With no strings wrapped around the head
No things to keep me up in bed,
Air piercing skin as its gathering in bundles around my pores,
Play the tunes, now won’t you please, until we feel the air no more
Making a living in order to live is keeping us from really living.
—(via lunanina)
Late Night Conversation
The mind can be a tiresome companion. Mine likes to keep me up..writing is all I can do some nights to sleep, when the anxiety is growing like a virus in my chest, wanting to burst out of my rib cage to release the pressure. Many a night have been spent with ink splattered pages spelling out my thoughts. I can’t imagine what it’d be like if writing couldn’t relieve some of my feelings. The words of my verse. They set me free. They let me be. Unclip my wings. Show me option C.
Music
The keys of a piano can sooth a soul, or set it free.
Cause it to weep, to reminisce, to dwell.
Music has the unique ability to touch a soul,
sometimes..the gentle hand of mother,
sometimes..the clenched fist of a fighter,
penetrating through your defenses as they are momentarily let down.
You can hear a song hundreds of times before you HEAR it.
Each experience, separate and unique while unifying times of life and seasons.
And sometimes..the song without words, affects you the most.
Uses your own experiences and thoughts
to morph into something beyond the song itself, stirring the darkest
and brightest parts of your being releasing profound ideas trapped within.
The creativity which has been repressed from years of society drowning
you with over-stimulation, opinion, lies and cultural propaganda.
We must eat this way. Breath in this manner. We follow rules which dull our senses. We follow guidelines set up by those that wish to see us zombies.
Why has music artistry declined in recent years? Are we already zombies..?
