True Story

wandering the corridors of a naked heart

exposed to the traps of human flaws and the epitomes

of restless souls

searching for a rock, and finding only the sand

common to the shore

washing in and out with the rythmic asphyxiation

of only the deepest blow

in vain as crazy as dumb brilliance

finding none but a two dimensional world

of vagrant sorrows in your attempt

to dispel all emotion

and find purity of reason and feeling and justification 

for the weight carried by a gifted pen

- Zeitgeist

Man to Man

Black  and  

White

can be seen infinite ways 

Fats Domino 

acceptable only       after     George Gershwin

the same as words of  Garvey       retold by a         Marley 

of both tones

no one even knows who actually built the house

      of the

rising sun

only that it took more than onecolour    of hand,

black and  white

equal

the

TECHNICOLOR

  of

Dreams 

(For Illipsis)

-Zeitgeist

The Cold War (Prologue)

It's a game of deception, lies, manipulation and exploitation. There are agents, double-agents,traitors, defectors, you name it. It's espionage at in its finest hour. Gain assets; trust no one and move swiftly, with purpose. Stay true to your cover, learn to adapt and morph, hear the conversation between nothing and silence. Read in to the nuances of your encounters, learn tendencies, call bluffs. Play to win at all costs.

Now with all this in mind...keep one rule in mind. Do not, I repeat, do not get caught. If caught, you will be imprisoned, tortured, and possibly hanged. You will be disowned.

Espionage. Love. What's the difference?

(Dedicated to Tess. Well played.)

-Illipsis

Death From Above...

Of all the moral postures one may take, I know one thing everyone can support (supposing anyone can know anything at all about, or of, anyone else) 

PIGEONS SHOULDN'T EAT CHILI. 

-Zeitgeist

A Class in Frustration

A few of us have been at odds with others lately over the true nature of a poem. All of a sudden it seems as if we are no longer writing to appease ourselves, rather to conform to what people desire in a poem. 

It is what it is, take it or leave it, love it or hate it, I don't care, and neither will my compatriots, but we are sure as hell not changing a thing. 

You've been warned...

On Borroughs' Work 

The method must be purest meat
and no symbolic dressing,
actual visions & actual prisons
as seen then and now.

Prisons and visions presented
with rare descriptions
corresponding exactly to those
of Alcatraz and Rose.

A naked lunch is natural to us,
we eat reality sandwiches.
But allegories are so much lettuce.
Don't hide the madness.

San Jose, 1954
--Allen Ginsberg

Case in point, and he still got published. 

-Zeitgeist

Sentenced

 

“All rise for the presiding Judge…”

 

“You know not what you do.

You take the thoughts of the few

And disturb the many,

What is your obsession?

I think there are plenty

of other professions you could choose,

but you couldn’t resist

and for that you leave me no choice.

 

“I hereby sentence you to life imprisonment without parole.”

 

Then he clapped the gavel,

His hand recoiling as if he fired a pistol

With his words displacing flesh like .44 caliber silver missiles

Attempting to destroy the snarling truth inside,

before it jaws grab hold of the innocent

and inject the infectious power catalytic

to sparking ill advised advances of the cerebellum.

 

The bailiff had to throw me down the dungeon steps,

The resonating clunk of the ball and chain becoming the only sign of reality left,

For I had already drawn my last breath,

Ready to exhale the last certainties I could muster

Before my mental faded to black

and my physical dissipated with the darkness.

 

I struck that stone floor,

heat non-existent as if it were a figment of the imagination,

kind of like my brazened demeanor.

I laid there, crystallizing into an artifact,

frozen in time

until a voice bellowed,

 

“Raise up boy, use your skill!

Your blood has been infused with the ether of poets,

Lyrical philosophers that use the sounds of 26

to empower the minds of billions.

Soldiers in a war against ignorance,

we are the militant,

so hear this,

for we are fearless!

Held captive in a cell,

but we are still like the Catholic priests

that reach the masses,

stimulate the mind and give your soul hot flashes.

 

And with that I looked up and saw the ghosts of

Emerson and Tennyson and Stevenson,

and I realized the chill in the air was all due to Frost.

A Black Cat hissed in the skeleton filled corner as

The Raven taunted from its perch

while a hand fell upon my shoulder and a shadow spoke,

“Do not fear to express that which needs to be heard,

do not succumb to personifying a Dream Deferred.”

 

A cloud of smoke descended upon the scene,

and a booming chorus imparted their wisdom upon their ghastly departure:

“View the world with a fiery embrace, yourself with chilling discontent.

You are trapped here for all eternity!

You must burn like an inferno,

taking what surrounds you and creating with it a bright flame

without burning your internal

glacier of cold resolve.”

 

I was occupied by this vision and my ambition blinded me

to the needle plunged in to my veins,

that left me insane with Wordsworth

more than gold etching themselves upon my cerebellum

giving me the ship to sail like Magellan.

I looked to see who had done this deed

and Ms. Angelou looked at me with a smile,

and whispered, “Sleep well my child…”

 

I awoke, peering into the mind of

a skull, still clad with a jester’s hat

that questioned my conscious, yet clenched

in the mandible was a quill and parchment.

My hand twitched and my digits flared

As I chartered that quill to etch the white blank

with a map to the true wonder of the world.

 

So here I sit in my corner, my dark crevice

A wordsmith at work,

with the premise that when hardened

my steel will solidify the world’s truths,

become the bullets to combat ignorant worldviews,

and teach more than mind-numbing institutions we deem schools.

 

 

I will never rest, as peace is a notion that lies

In that tiny sliver between the finger and the trigger,

A martyr these poetic bloodlines are not,

For our words will never die.

 

Illipsis

Speech is my hammer, bang the world in to shape now let it fall

-Mos Def

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lift it Higher, Make it Brighter

untitled

coursing through our veins

liberating us from

the faces of oppression

we screamfor freedom

above crushing rhetoric 

we learn how to feel 

like revolution

what we fail to believe

makes hearts beat faster

blanketing faces 

with the hate 

and fear

Leaving us

no choice

but to

suffocate

like the 

soul of a 

confined 

Napoleon

-Zeitgeist

Huck It

The good old days: 

Two men, from opposite sides bound together by a Siamese ripcord tethered to their souls, 

who will pull first, knowing that it 

will destroy them both.

Nowadays: 

One man, from  opposite sides, struggles to keep the dangling ripcord 

from the reach of a little man who does not hesitate to pull, knowing that the falling carcass 

will destroy them both. 

A little knowledge found via the Conspiracy Of One...

-Zeitgeist 

A Grandfather's Wisdom

A Measure of  Man 

    

A man walks into the store, homburg in hand,

 two purchases in mind. 

He steps to the counter, addresses the shopkeeper; 

Loudly he says "Some cigarettes, please".   

So as not to offend,  

discretely he whispers; "And a condom if you wouldn't mind."   

 A man walks into the store, ipod in hand,  

two purchases in mind. 

He steps to the counter, addresses the shopkeeper; 

Loudly he says "A condom, please."        

So as not to offend,        

discretely he whispers; "And some cigarettes if you wouldn't mind"       

"Beneath the rule of men entirely great, the pen is mightier even then the sword."   

-Zeitgeist

Another late night's product...

Life's Fabrication: Part I

If life could be viewed as a patchwork quilt; Each patch would be a moment, comprised of love, hate, loss, joy, sorrow, hunger, fatigue, laughter,and memories. Holding all these together is stitching made of choices. No stitch is bigger than any other, and each shares the same load of importance in the fabrication of the quilt. 

Further musings  to follow in part two.... now, back to da grind. 

"Beneath the rule of men entirely great, the pen is mightier even then the sword."

-Zeitgeist

Stabs in the Dark

1:57 A.M - A time long ago, in a place not so far from anywhere. 

The rain smashes against the glass, driving like the thoughts smashing around my head. The wind howls, jeering at my insomnia. I write in the shadows, the shadows in absence of light; the shadows of thoughts that dart around my head. I feel alone, but not lonely. Here in the dark I am myself, able to think, reflect, write. 

The fan spins on, oddly this is a reflection of me. It has a purpose, that it may or may not be achieving, but it revolves, resilient, pushing forward, accomplishing what it may. 

Where am I? Where am I going? I don't think I even want to know the answers, it would ruin the fun. 

"Beneath the rule of men entirely great, the pen is mightier even than the sword."

-Zeitgeist

To A Fellow Mercenary

I write this for my fellow mercenary. Yes, the same one who would go in to the brush with a gun, a knife (the one he probably got stopped at Customs at for), a pen, and a book. To use a cliche, a rebel without a cause. We were born in the wrong time, mon ami....

Written In Blood

to Zeitgeist

Flint sparks, conflict within its own right

honing an instrument,

kinda like death in its own right

But its left like 

where the Sun sets

because it does nothin' but spill regret,

and when its right again,

remnants of what was scorch the eye.

Ink splatters, conflict within its own right;

thoughts of an instrument

deadly in their own right,

but their left like

where the Sun sets,

'cause is the ink mightier than the blood thats spilt?

When its all right again,

Tell of the hue of the fields in the sunset

and recognize the path the warrior has chosen.

-Illipsis

Mutiny & Study Hall

Don't criticize what you can't understand,
Your sons are beyond your command.
Your role is rapidly aging,
For they times the are a changin'


A tribute to Dylan, via twenty unhappy soldier's cue cards...........


-Zeitgeist

Genius From Chi-City

Have my mind moving faster than that hog in the hedges
Welcome all of y'all to my dark recesses
This is where I keep the bars like bathtub edges
My Ivories And My Doves My Levers and my Zests'
It takes half of your bubble bath to match the freshness
The belly of the beast you know I'm from it
I wrap it in a towel, here go my pal in the stomach
And I be on my green like Irish Spring and I Coast
Fudge wit it and get a mouth full of soap

-Lupe Fiasco on "I Gotcha"

Probably my most favorite conglomerate of words and lines put together...

Big ups to Mr. Fiasco...The Cool in stores now...a little free publicity for the crew at F&F

Speech is my hammer, bang the world into shape, now let it fall...

-Mos Def

Illipsis

The Cost of Capricious Capitalism

"IT WAS the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way -- in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only" - Charles Dickens


I suppose to borrow from such a literary juggernaut I must provide some substantial and justified reasoning to avoid committing some sort of heresy. I assure you, I will try, not only to uphold Dickens' honour, but also to challenge all of ours.

Earlier this week I was spending some time in Naples, while there I saw how the other half, nay the other 1%, of the population lives. I had the privilege of staying with an acquaintance of a family member, who happens to own a multinational corporation. I must admit, I was a part of it, the life of the rich and famous that is. I felt as though I was a cynosure, having imbibed all the wealth, fame and false pretense that threatened suffocation. I stood beside a 1.25 million dollar car. I sat in a chair that costs as much or more than many people's houses. I ate like a King, like le Roi du Soleil himself. And I enjoyed it. I mean come on, who wouldn't? Isn't that what we all want?

After I had left, and spent a few days in the detox that is reality. Then I thought back and recounted to myself what I had witnessed on my brief sojourn; Facades with marvelous Parthenon evoking columns, Venetian gondolas and a Spanish mansion befitting only the greatest of cartel Dons. As I descended from the Athenian hill I felt as though I was descending through Dante's circles, seeing those undeserving unlucky persons, who appeared befit to Cantos 7 or 8, subjugated to the oppressive Neo-liberalism seeping from the hillside vistas. I had seen Don Croce, but where was Turi Guiliano?

To me it was scary, everywhere you look in this country, and around the world, the dichotomy exists. Soon there will be sides made, combatants engaged and even shots fired. Dickens tells the story. There was "blood like wine in the streets" when les jaques had had enough. The time will come, who knows when, the proletariat is powerful, if he would, or could, only realize it. Blood need not run again, but change must.

Революция, Революция, Революция!
Revolución, Revolución, Revolución!
La Révolution, la Révolution, la Révolution!

Revolution, Revolution, Revolution!

"Beneath the rule of men entirely great, the pen is mightier even than the sword."

-Zeitgeist

Why Even Bother to Write….

To be honest, I don’t even have much of an answer to that question. Writing itself is an art form, a way of communication. Without words written on a page, history could never have been recorded. That’s what everything is you know: history. Every word, syllable, letter I utter on this page is history the exact moment after my fingers brush the keys. What you are reading at this present time is officially in the past. What’s my point with all this rhetoric, you ask. Simply put, writing allows you to enter the minds of others; it lets you linger, influence their thoughts, their souls, their minds. One does not necessarily need to be Shakespeare to touch the lives of others. If you are reading this, I touched your life already (too late...I gotcha…might as well keep on reading, huh?). The fact the something touched you does not necessarily mean it moved you (brush up on your Physics), it just means somehow, it affected your day. My voice affected your day. There’s a sort of beauty in that, methinks. The fact that I can say something, and you can consider, revile, or completely disregard it is amazing. Not to sound preachy (probably too late), but we should all speak. We all have our own unique way of orating our thoughts, ideas, and expressions, and I don’t plan to explain them all, but y’all get my drift.

 

Maybe I do have an answer to that question…..it just  took a two and a half hour flight to Chicago to figure it out. 

-Speech is my hammer, bang the world into shape, now let it fall...

-Mos Def

-Illipsis

(we will get current on this whole posting thing...school has taken its toll y'know? but, we back on the grind so hit us up with the comments, ya dig?)

It's All Newton's Fault

Clicking Chalk and Useless Talk

Numbers unfold,
leaves coloured gold.

Through the pane,
the bright rays wain.

Endless quotient rules,
veritable toil of fools.

Language is lost!
Oh, at what cost?

The droning voice,
leaving no choice.

The struggle of math,
its ambiguos path.

"Beneath the rule of men entirely great, the pen is mightier even than the sword."

-Zeitgeist

Question and Response with Kel Mitchell

Q: HOMEWORK...


A:WHYYYYYYYYYYYYY!?!?!?!

The Wisdom Of Aaron Mcgruder

Born

A tear falls from a tightly shut eye. Regret fills his thoughts. As the rain falls as black as the night sky.
Fearless as he sits under the tree whose branches would haunt his dreams as a child. Time is no factor now as it gently passes him by.
He has lost all reason to live. Life to him meant torture pain and tears similar to the ones he now sheds a top this hill.
A once powerful man now weak. Once mighty now dying. All hope he had was killed.
Killed by the actions of a man apart. A man whose heart has turned cold. Hope to him useless,
His sins torment him. And his demons prevent him from any movement
soaked more by tears than rain. he sits there bathing in his pain.
He looks around and sees no one. All people abandoned him yet this tree still remains.
He sits up and allows this tree to support him. As if he appreciates it.
He closes his eyes and dies. Cold. Lonely. but now not entirly faithless.

Today's Whatever.

We All Move in Circles

Spinning deeper,
concentric circles.

Amid flash of light,
oppressive illumination

Further,
faster now

Helplessly grasped,
yet, blindly agreeable.

Cold hands,
warm heart.

Epiphanies found,
leading only to unreachable ends.

As we enter the depth of night,
still shining seems the light.

"Beneath the rule of men entirely great, the pen is mightier even than the sword."

-Zeitgeist

A Little Knowledge For Ya'll

Just a little somethin' I threw together...

We Are Not Free

One's conscious drives them to make a choice,

Ones that succeed speak.

Others that wanna succeed silence the voice.

Dreams spark the love that is present

But put down because jobs are lost.

Our people still struggle to fix their flaws.

But why do people bother searchin'?

Life is futile,

Promethus complex,

everything I say is burned,

taken out of context and returned,

Langston Hughes, Dream Deferred.

Success, like everything else

is in the eye of the beholder.

But the darkness of ignorance 

blinds my pupils.

Daggers of disgust pin me down

in this feudal system we call life.

Damn, how could this be?

The absence of light crosses us,

true meaning of life loses us,

or was it ever found?

Speech is my hammer, bang the world into shape and let it fall...

-Mos Def

-Illipsis

"Class, please be aware of bullets flying down the hallways...and for lunch today..." (pt. 1)

I was sitting on the bus today and my phone vibrates, indicating that someone desired to share their thoughts with me via text message. I reached in my pocket, opened my phone, and read:

 

Yo sum1 brought a knife 2 skool 2day…they got suspended

 

Now, I’m no expert, but I thought school was a place to learn, not a warzone of sorts. But apparently that’s just me. Being 17, I understand fully the dislike of the day-to-day grind of attending such places of learning, and I also understand the illicit thoughts that can run through the young adult mind. At one time or another we’ve all said or thought, “I’d like to blow this place up”, or “ I wish my teacher would die.” Gasp! “No”, you say. I’ve never thought such things in my life. Please, shut up. You can lie to yourself all you want; I just won’t do it for you. Hell, I’ve said and thought the same statements myself. There’s no denying that. But in light of the recent tragic events at schools in Memphis, TN and at Northern Illinois University, I feel that we as students should sit and examine our thoughts and our actions. Administration tells us to be aware of the feelings of our fellow classmates and act upon any signs of potential signs of distress. Now, I know this is a noble plan, but if someone reported me every time I looked like I was about to shoot up the school, the next place I’d be playing ball would be in a jail yard with Deebo and Juan.

Young adults are prone to having mood swings and being generally unstable…it’s a fact. Rational does not live in our vocabulary. This being said, what can be done to prevent bullets flying in hallways? In my opinion, nothing. Steven P. Kazmierczak was a “revered and honored” student. Even his girlfriend said he gave no indication that he was going to mow down 25 students in an ocean science lecture. The shootings in Memphis were by “angry, young black men” but to be quite honest, young black men are frustrated as a people. Two school shootings in Memphis within 8 days and it’s a secondary story in national news? (In Bill O’ Reilly’s voice): Oh, those little hoodlums and gang-bangers are so misguided. That’s not new news, that’s just what they do. Love you too, Bill. Getting off the issue of race however, many young kids in our society are angry as a whole because their whole lives are allowed to pass before them, and then by the time they realize they need to take a course of action, it is too late. On the flipside of that coin, many young kids are over-pressured by outside forces (counselers, parents, friends) to get into a good college and then land a high paying job. Now, in the little grooved section of the coin (the middle, for those of you that are looking at me like I’m crazy), many young kids are lost, stuck between those that don’t and those that do, generally forgotten because they are generally generalized by the general public. Hated, pressured and forgotten. Need I give more explanations for the frustrations of the Youth of the Nation?

Speech is my hammer, bang the world into shape, now let it fall...

-Mos Def

ILLIPSIS

(This is part one....part two coming soon...I got homework to do, son...)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Carnations Pt 2 (A bit for the Ladies, and you fellas to...)

Illipsis hits the nail on the head. However, lets not think about just Carnations, but lets use these pink offerings as a segway to the concept of Valentine's itself:

Perhaps we should commence with some pertinent queries:
Why does popular culture dictate how we must act? Why is it so important to get her a carnation on this day? Does it really mean more receiving chocolates in a heart shaped box, as opposed to something thoughtful, and meaningful, given on any other day of the year? Clearly The Man is winning; corporations (Hallmark) have seized control over what is expected within our relationships.

It may be deemed a "special day to show love", yet any real man can make a girl feel special on any day, for any reason. I'm not saying that Valentines Day is not a good time to share together, its not just for the girls, but it for you fellas too. Sometimes this gets lost in the shuffle. Yes, we men have the responsibility to pamper our ladies, so goes life, yet sometimes we would appreciate a genuine "thank you", as if you weren't expecting it all the time. Convention may dictate that we have to get you something, and you girls act as though we have slighted you if you don't receive enough, or the expected gift. Last time I checked gifts were meant to be extras, given to express feelings above normal day to day interaction. Since when have they become guessing games with expected benchmarks, which, when not reached, cause men to be castigated for such obstreperous disregard.

Like it was said in the above post, we fellas will be there if we really care. true un-vacillating adoration reaches outside the realm of materialistic holidays. We will be there day in day out, talking on the phone, txting you, and treating you like our Queens. You should appreciate this. Doing so will make days like Valentine's that much more special and memorable.

On a last note, to all the Lads, just buy the damn flowers and chocolates; we're trapped so we might as well be good to our ladies, regardless how they take it. At the same time, have the courage to give her flowers just because, and not buy her that necklace just because it is February 14th, instead buy it just because. Maybe then girls will be more grateful.

"Beneath the rule of men entirely great, the pen is mightier even than the sword."

-Zeitgeist
a.k.a. Colin Cook

Valentine's Day Blues

Ladies and Fellas alike, its the one day outta the year next to ya birthday and Christmas and maybe Halloween if you desperate, where people show you some love...hopefully. Its Valentines day. The commercial holiday riddled with flowers, chocolate, and a stuffed animal that truly nobody wants. In the back of your mind you hope that special someone wants to be your valentine and will exchange gifts and do the nasty with you...hopefully. But lets be real for a minute, I know girls and dont get me wrong they like me and i like them but if they aint gonna send me some candy or even a flower, what the hell makes u think im gonna go outta my to get them something. Yes i am a cynical, pissed off person who didnt get nothin for valentine's day but there are plenty of others like me who feel left out this year...and last year...and the year before that. To you this may be a cry for a valentine, but in reality this is mearly a man who is tired off all the people who want something but aint wilin to give something.

Da Realist
a.k.a. Jordan Brown

Carnations Pt. 1 (This is for the Fellas...)

In lieu of Valentine's Day, I figured we'd talk about a topic fresh on all our minds. Carnations. Yes, those cheap little pink flowers that leave us anxious over basically absolutely nothing. Ok, yes, it might be a nice gesture to get your  your girl some flowers, but let's be honest:

Guys: We know we get girls flowers on Valentine's Day because we are forced. We know that if we don't follow the tradition of buying our companions of the opposite sex flowers and/or chocolate (don't get me started on chocolate), we run the risk of getting the cold shoulder. None of us want the cold shoulder. For those of us that have been unfortunate enough to experience such a frigid (no pun intended) act, we can tell you we never want to go through it again. Most of us are not strong enough to stand up to the powers that be (Hallmark) and refuse to waste money on such a pointless day. Ladies, the excuse "It's a special day to show your love for us" holds no ground whatsoever. If we are with you, in a relationship, then we definitely show how special you are to us everyday. We listen, we cuddle, we console, we laugh, we get you cookies when you have a bad day; and now you want flowers?!?!?! Granted, like I've said before, its a nice gesture, but it shouldn't be expected just because. If we love/like you, then we love/like you everyday. End of story. 

Now don't get a brotha wrong here. I'm not saying we shouldn't get girls flowers. It's a good move because it shows how much you care. Ain't nothin' wrong with that. I'm just sayin', like a certain dude from Illadelphia that lives above me, we shouldn't be afraid to say in such eloquent rhetoric, "Valentine's Day is dumb, dude."

"Speech is my hammer, bang the world into shape, now let it fall...

-Mos Def

-Illipsis

a.k.a. Brett Clarke