Fifteen Years of Rolling Stones - Poets are not Posers

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2009-07-01T16:49:00.000-08:00

So you know this girl, but she's never stayed the same
Hasn't been too long since she changed her name
You think you can sum up the whole mess you lived
With a semicolon and a capital D right next to it?
The new world doesn't like you very much
And wants to make sure that you and your dreams never touch
If you've got it made you're living in wonderland
I'm damn sure neither of you understand
Try making me feel like the old gang's new dude
Misconceptions are like a second language to you
You can get it perfectly clearly, not factually
And then dream your lies and spit it right back at me
If I had a nickel for every time
You almost took both of us out of our minds
I could get my licence, buy a brand new big Ford
And drive you to heaven, give you something to live for
With rules of course, you gotta have the rules placed
Wouldn't want to catch yourself running a fools' race
Just fools in love to no-fucking-body in particular
Just that one bubbly feeling that gets you into her
It's like a curse, you speak in these horrible tongues
Don't waste your breath on me, save more for your lungs
Only so many things can go wrong behind those chosen few
Ask yourself, why do you think I chose you?

So you know this girl, but she's never stayed the same
Hasn't been too long since she changed her name
You think you can sum up the whole mess you lived
With a semicolon and a capital D right next to it?
The new world doesn't like you very much
And wants to make sure that you and your dreams never touch
If you've got it made you're living in wonderland
I'm damn sure neither of you understand

Boil the sky just to get those clouds in your hand
And scream that bullshit as loud as you can
I'm living no apologies, no regrets this time
I won't be a star in your life and an extra in mine
Boil the sky just to get those clouds in your hand
And scream that bullshit as loud as you can
I'm living no apologies, no regrets this time
I won't be a star in your life and an extra in mine
Boil the sky just to get those clouds in your hand
And scream that bullshit as loud as you can
If you've got it made you're living in wonderland
I'm damn sure neither of you understand

In Too Deep

2009-07-01T16:45:00.002-08:00

Say it once, say it twice, say it nine times
My life's dying in all five of my blind eyes
And my lifeline is hitting some temporary turbulence
I haven't been heard from since
I barely know the man that I used to be
A useless freak, speechless at my own eulogy
And I'm glad he doesn't come to the mirror anymore
Nobody could have made that quite as clear before
I'm on the highway, skating on thin ice, the safety's in the speed
That may be just what I need
To force contact with you and the unknown
And anything that's gonna keep me from coming home tonight
But don't panic, it's alright
The molotov cocktails will drown your pain down all night
And so far no one's told me what this club's for
And I can't figure out what I've come for, say it

Say it once, say it twice, say it nine times
My life's dying in all five of my blind eyes
And my lifeline is hitting some temporary turbulence
I haven't been heard from since
I barely know the man that I used to be
A useless freak, speechless at my own eulogy
And I'm glad he doesn't come to the mirror anymore
Nobody could have made that quite as clear before
I'm on the highway, skating on thin ice, the safety's in the speed
That may be just what I need
To force contact with you and the unknown
And anything that's gonna keep me from coming home tonight
But don't panic, it's alright
The molotov cocktails will drown your pain down all night
I haven't figured out what this love's for
But it might be exactly what I've come for, say it

Say it once, say it twice, say it nine times
My life's dying in all five of my blind eyes
And my lifeline is hitting some temporary turbulence
I haven't been heard from sinceI barely know the man that I used to be
A useless freak, speechless at my own eulogy
And I'm glad he doesn't come to the mirror anymore
Nobody could have made that quite as clear before
I'm on the highway, skating on thin ice, the safety's in the speed
That may be just what I need
To force contact with you and the unknown
And anything that's gonna keep me from coming home tonight
But don't panic, it's alright
The molotov cocktails will drown your pain down all night
I'm done with this, dare to motherfuck with me once more
And you'll see exactly what I've come for, say it

Your World

2009-06-04T22:02:00.003-08:00

"I know you!" he kept screaming. "I know you! I know you!"
But he clearly didn't. I would never associate myself with people like him.
A man like myself puts his mind in company of other bright minds, not a dickhead to remind himself he's best.
I like making small talk with the soft hearted and the badasses,
And anyone who had a serious story to tell without intruding my space.
But if they drag me down and make me start losing my pace, we've got an issue.
And that's why this guy could never know me.
He pushed it from the awkward beginning.
I hated him, and still he tolerated me. Eventually I learned how to return the favor, and I paid a dear price for that.
But all the time we got into any serious conversation, it never went both ways.
He threw out my back with the constant flow of bitching about his miserable life, his parents, his crushes, and his inane jealousy of me that he could never overcome.
It was then that I knew he'd never really respect me.
People judged him based on everything. What clothes he wore, what music he liked, which hand he jacked off with...Everything.
So my tolerance of his odd style was a blessing to him.
But no matter who his friends were,
He'd never be me. That's not bragging, that's the truth.
And it suddenly became my fault when his eightieth crush had lost the interest in him she never had.

I don't hear from him that much anymore.
He mainly stays silent in the dark back alleys of mind,
But someday soon I expect him to jump out and finally show some honesty.
He'll yell to me from the far corner of my cares:
"I want your lifestyle.
I want your clothes, I want your music, I want your ambidextriosity.
I want to be the person I could never be.
And the reason?" he'd say.
"I know whose world this is.
I want to be the one who steps up to save it."

CUT TO BLACK.

2009-04-15T18:15:00.005-08:00

THE DEBUT.
No serious info, just letting you know it's coming. ;) A track listing or something later.
Peace.

Your Broken Nature

2009-04-13T20:40:00.000-08:00

Excuse me, sir, would you like to contemplate my worth
While I bless you and your very date of birth?
I know we fight but you started it
So rewind, take your life and put your heart in it
Every part in it till your cup overflows with what I need
Instead of harder shit, leaving you comatose
You hold me close through the roughest seas
And then drown me, reply, you owe me dos
Understand my feelings are off the hook
And so is my phone until you stop and look
How your Vodka shook and 1964'd my last name
It's too late, you're never gonna make it to the fast lane
No reparations, it's a damn shame, but it's a man's game
Man I think it's time to make your plans change
Every day, just running from the life you lead
To catch your breath, you still gotta fight to breathe
I might just leave briefly, got no words for Jack Daniels
Guns with black handles, but man you'll see
I gotta live my life right the first time with fluency
And I write my worst rhymes when you influence me
It hurts me to say this, I'm virtually shameless
But versed when you're cursing my playlist
Why stand in the way of what could save your life?
Raise you right, break the lights, make you fight?
I guess I was never really one for criticism
But you had to take some to make one into a living
It's your decision to break, even if we never make up
I'll stand here screaming until you wake up

I'm not a waiter
But it's not in my nature to make yours a failure
And now we finally hit a gainer
You're scared and tortured, unfair but important
If I shatter in your arms will you pick up the pieces?
If it finds you first, will you still need it?

So let's get drunk on life instead of Absolut
Before your boomerang blues come back to you
I can't make rap a wrap that easy
There are otheres than you who truly need me
You freely tease me when I can see you sober
And then before I even knew it it's over
Even when you're not pissed, you're pissed
And people really do some crazy-ass shit for this, huh
I miss the days when we weren't doubtful
How we could speak right between the Bacardi mouthfuls
We need you for real, dude, you're hardly our tool
Even if we go party without you
The cycle's closed, and I'm Michael Jonesin'
For you to kill Bill and fight with the Romans
Right or wrong, at least I'd write this song right?
And when it's all over I'll go light my bong pipe
So all's well that ends in the valley below
Along with everyone else that came at me before
And I hate to sound rude or less polite
But this ends tonight
Cause breaking the cycle is making it right too
And they won't play until I say who I rival
But no one gets between me and you, trust that
I just want your love back

Pipes

2009-04-13T20:39:00.002-08:00

Hard choices decorate the walls of my frame, the halls of my fame. But this was never one of them. Everytime I step into the smoke-filled halls of my would-be future, with all my would-be "friends" surrounding me, it just seems so unrealistic.

I'm a volunteer artist, whether my albums are being sold or not. I don't politic for profit, but anything I put over the airwaves, I'm sure you'll connect with it any way you can, and I hope I can inspire you to do the same. I can pull lines from any of the depths of the world, from baby mamas to crazy drama, and bounce off anything that gave me honor.

I'm molding dudes, holding tools, considering the golden rule. I'm the blastmaster who blasts past the back stabbers and bad actors like back crackers who get their facts backwards... my brother! You're not one of them. There are no imperfect boys with perfect lives, and no one wants to hear you sing about tragedy with your pipe half full. I've managed to have a free life with clean pipes. And I won't rewrite my good deeds to a huge mess of would-bes. That's not why I'm here tonight. No.

I'm here tonight as a witness to the amazing things that can and probably will happen. Tonight we're going back to old tradition, with clean pipes and no cares. And I give myself permission to kick the ass of anyone I see doing homework. Just like everyone else, I've got my anti drug, and she knows who she is. And if you're still direction-less after tonight, don't worry. After all, you gotta be lost for anyone to find you.

Escape (Private Transporation For The Working Class)

2009-04-07T23:07:00.002-08:00

She could handle four wheels without knowing how to drive
But it was the only way she knew she was alive
She could kick, push, like a kid throwing a fit
And if things got wack, she'd grab her board and split
Cause mom and dad weren't about to fall in love again
Wood to the streets sounded like her call, her covenant
Felt good to aim her needle down and let fly
Sometimes she had to get high just to get by
It was amazing, no one gave orders to the skateboarder
She made sure to be the one that never breaks borders
But as a rebel, that was unpreventable, inevitably
There's something wrong with whatever they pulled, they'd never be free
And she'd like a set of arms to collapse in
But the only love she ever knew was in her backspin
So she keeps grinding till her fam grows
Until she sees the light shine from that Jackson Avenue lamppost

Just want to get away...

He had as many living friends as the wheels he would ride
And he barely even knew he was alive
He took it everywhere, even did some flips around school
Praying that a sponsor would come to his town soon
The only family he had was unrelated
Apart from his sisters-in-law, none had made it
Wishing he had gotten the chance to meet Left Eye
Sometimes he had to get high just to get by
Now he's sleeping at every other best friend's house
Till he got emancipated, they left him out
But things started lookin up, one of his friends hooked him up
With new clothes and a new job, homeboy, go look it up
But never a new set of wheels, he'd always feel
At home in his dome on the same chrome and steel
So he keeps climbing life's landslope
Until he sees the light shine from that Jackson Avenue lamppost

Just want to get away...

We just want to get away from the struggle of a nine-to-five
And now we finally know that we're alive
All the pressure and stress we wanna let loose
We even had to get high just to get through
But now we strain for the right things, all the pain that life brings
Is a lot more lame than frightening
So we keep climbing new man's rope
Until we see the light shine from that Jackson Avenue lamppost
And we escape

Dear Right There

2009-04-07T23:02:00.002-08:00

I am so much older than you remember me to be. And if really what you think is true is true, then in high school we either get a good education or get pregnant. So take the ultrasound off my life. You of all people should know that if I'm out of the house for twenty seconds more than I said I would be, it does not mean I took that time to murder my crack dealer. But believe me, I made the best of those twenty seconds. That's twenty times I won't have to hear your "better" half takes out his daily stress by giving it to us. That's twenty times I won't have to smell the alcohol on his breath, fueled by that fucking tumor creeping through his bones.

But we all know he could care less. It's not quite a broken home, but I'm hoping not to be around when London bridge falls down. I'm not growing old in Salem's lot, because I've got plans to put you - and anyone else in my bloodline who manages to live that long - in a better place, far, far away from here.

STATE OF THE HOOD: Real World

2009-03-31T19:13:00.003-08:00

This is the piece I performed at the "State of the Hood" event on April 4th 2008.

I'm sick of pledging to the enemy. I'm sick of being forced to watch so many other foolish souls do the same thing, minus the honesty and plus a world of caffeinated drinks, urbanized media, lies from head to toe, and frantic twitching during a moment of sublime silence. Let me take a moment to honor past dreams, ideals much later than the ten o'clock news, cause none of that shit is all true. I'm not abusing, I'm just musing. Just pull me out of my sentiency for long enough to recognize those children smiling at what will become grim before long. It's like moving to a new town the second you turn 13.

Welcome to Real World. Population: not enough to change your mind, too many to change anything else.

Now we may look like the same people, but we do things a little differently. In the Real World, you are who you are, but the crash box will tell you you are fat, in bad living conditions, poor, and uncool, and also their only valued customer. In the Real World, people will eat you out of house, home and womanhood, just because of their jealous needs for all three. And in the Real World, Spider Man didn't make it out of that burning building in time. Good things don't happen to good people anymore, you must be stuck in the 80s. Where the sellouts were nameless, pointless and showless, and Music Television dealt with real musicians and real music. Where wars would fight for peace instead of leaving our rights in pieces. Where turbulence can shake the past off so sweet, and doesn't shake your ass out your seat.

But who am I to interrupt your fantasies? Ignorance is bliss. So you eat your steak and continue not giving a goddamn. Let's drink to health, let's smoke to safety, let's fuck for virginity, and leave the second guessing to the philosophers. I know the media puts on a face for us, but who cares? I know that I matter, the radio told me so!

And at least this way, I won't have to feel betrayed when the old-fashioned sellouts stab me in the back. Cause in the Real World, we all struggle, for holy and unholy hustles. This is my world, and the state of the hood is in such disgrace that I gotta make that mine too. I can't and I won't live a lie.

Not this time.

Happy Campers

2009-03-31T19:05:00.003-08:00

I'm letting it go tonight. The anxiety. The broken dreams. The times we've kept it cool on the outside when we can still feel the rage and angry fuel burning the midnight oil on our fights and toils. You've meant so much to me I haven't been able to say, because I have no respect for Jack Daniels or any Russian water artist. I've fallen through the cracks in the floorboards just to maintain my sanity, and still you tested me as my guitar hands held onto the only wood I knew wouldn't break. You've pushed me over my boundaries just to pull me back and apologize, quelling my anger. And maybe I can only love you because I once knew the man underneath that whiskey.

But now you're sick in more ways than one. I've never thought about the world without you, and I promise that I'll never speak another bad word about you. I'm done talking shit about the man that went through more than that to create me, change me and strengthen me. Forgive me. Because I've forgiven you. And if these unfulfilled wishes outlive you, at least know that I began a wonderful life by your side. I am eternally grateful to you, and I'm proud to carry your name for the rest of the world to remember. All I can pray for is that you remember the world as you leave it, and that no matter how much we hurt each other, that you look down on me smiling.

Get better, dad.

5.23

2009-03-31T18:58:00.004-08:00

Lora, this one's for you.

It's five hours and twenty three minutes before that commercial airliner swoops down and takes you to the city of angels, where you should feel right at home. There are people who have made careers off of singing only about the one in millions that they have such strong feelings for. But for me to have any feelings was a million to one. I swore never to touch the ink of a vulnerable heart because I thought for sure I would waste it. Then you came and taught me calligraphy, simple words in elegant scripts that blew the meaningless meaning sky high, much like any commercial we've seen. And you made sure I didn't waste a single word, because time was precious.

Now my time is temporarily up, as you coast quickly to the land of cities plagued by different colors, all bleeding red for their sins, and marketing so obvious that people are paying to get the logo of their favorite brand tattoed on their ass. You must be like a glimmer of starlight in a sea of translucent light bulbs. I'm left here with a pen and my memories, searching desperately for ways to rephrase those three cliched words. I'd rather waste time with you, chasing cars around our heads, than virtually on my own, saying what I know will eventually not be enough. Just, please, remember that no matter what mountains, rivers, subdivisions, construction sites or long distance roaming charges lie between us, these things will never change for us at all. And that until I find the right words, I think I'll just stick with "I love you."

Desparation is a black shoe.

2009-03-31T18:39:00.000-08:00

Disappointment is a purple basketball court.
Excitement is a yellow biology teacher.
Fear is a white snowblower.
Indifference is a gray blanket.
Desparation is a black shoe.

Foot Locker had a sale last week. Brand new $150 all-black Nike Airs. Another magnet to attract the confused and scared, whether willingly or unwillingly. Some of them are good people. Some of them aren't anymore. And some of them are too caught up in the systematic storm of beggin for acceptance to figure out on which end of the spectrum they stand. But none of them are any less of a coward than the next. They're always willing to dish out two, three hundred dollars for those ugly-ass Jordans that are so popular with the other displaced distopianists. And I can't wait to see someone set those back on the shelf and take a look around, maybe grab the blood red Oncore hi-tops two feet to their right. They're on sale for under $80, a store all time low. I'd sacrifice the feeling of false acceptance for the exhilaration of non-conformity anyday. Believe me, I know exactly what I'm missing, and I'm not missing it.

So why are you?

Vomit: God Likes Ugly

2009-03-31T18:32:00.000-08:00

In the eyes of some I'm a loser because of my weaknesses. In the eyes of some I'm a winner because my weaknesses don't make me weak. But in my eyes, I'm just trying to make a living by making it right. My wounds won't hide behind me. I'm left with so much more to flaunt and push in your face than before, like you wish you had this. You wish you earned this knowledge and had it as hard as I had it, as well as all the ugly scars to back it. My past and yours, it's life, love, stress and setbacks, and lighting a candle when this club goes jet black. To get back to what I wanted to be is impossible, so I'll cry just to get it out of my system before going on like Jack Johnson and having the best day of my life. And the weeks past due assignment, the guitar teacher who's slowly losing his patience, adn the rich little psychophant rap artists sent from Florida to make me puke can all take a chill pill. That's when I know that if I see someone smiling, they've probably got a damn good reason to be doing so.

Inspired by Atmosphere's "God Loves Ugly": "I wear my scars like the rings on a pimp."

STATE OF THE HOOD

2009-03-31T17:49:00.000-08:00

BE THERE SUCKA!!
It's going down Saturday, April 4th at the Wild Berry Theater behind the Peanut Farm, map-google that shit if you don't know what i'm talking about.
My name's at the bottom there, real tiny. I'll be reading a piece of mine called "Real World" talking on growing up in America instead of just in Alaska. It's kind of a stretch, but it'll be off the hook if you show up!

I don't know when the doors open, pretty early I guess, and this starts at 7:00 pm. BE THERE OR BE SQUARE.