there was a little spider he went on holiday
just to have a change somewhere far away
he packed up his case and pyjamas to
and his favorite cds he took quite a few

he went across to switzerland he just love to ski
in the snowy mountains he just long to be
he put on his hat and his jumper to
and his colored scarf yellow red and blue

headed for the slopes to begin his ski
adrenalin was pumping excited now was he
putting on his skis he began his run
sliding down the mountains he was having fun.

swerving in and out going very fast
looking at the view as he went sailing past
sliding to the bottom using all his skill
his holiday abroad had gave him such a thrill

spider he got tired and went to rest his head
put on his pyjamas climbed into his bed
then fell fast asleep and dreamed the night away
thinking of his fun and his holiday

Odysseus needs a job he calls pima community college art department chairperson sends her his resume she does not respond after a week he catches her on phone she says he lacks proper credentials laughs to himself his whole life never worked lucrative or reputable position gets job working at thrift store wacky group of coworkers customers store frequently smells like public latrine job expires after 7 weeks he gets better paying job working at record exchange Odysseus always loved music everyday he learns new artist or band his coworkers are at least half his age they pester him about being slow on keyboard he never learned to type neither he nor his generation could have foreseen future would revolve around keyboard he plods on register keys people smile politely kids he works with fly fast making many keyboard mistakes November 29 2001 george harrison dies of cancer he is 58 years old Odysseus recognizes he is from past world different era of contrasting standards ‘80’s behavior is totally unbefitting let alone ‘60’s beliefs it is 2002 and one badly chosen word is sure to send someone flying off the handle he watches his language carefully co-workers mostly born in 1980’s grew up in 1990’s they live indifferent to hopelessness he struggles to bear none of them believe in higher power music is their religion he wonders what their visions concerns for humanity are? they seem addicted to consumption as if it is end in itself he questions what is hidden at root of their absorption? loneliness? despair? apathy? absence of vision? where is their rage against social conversion current administration? he warns them about homeland security act privacy infringement increased government secrecy power they shrug their shoulders why aren’t they looking for answers? why don’t they dissent? do they care where world is going? he realizes they will have to learn for themselves few coworkers read literature or know painters philosophy their passions are video games marijuana “star wars” most of them are extremely bright more informed than he often Odysseus needs to ask questions they know answers to right off the bat he is like winsome uncle who puts up with their unremitting teasing “hey you old hippie punk rocker get you fiber in today? stools looking a little loose! peace out old man” in peculiar way he finds enough belonging he so desperately needs they tell him stories about their friends *** addictions eating disorders futile deaths he is bowled over by how young they are to know such stuff job includes health insurance which is something he has not had since Dad was alive having some cash flowing in he buys laptop computer with high-speed connection cell phone trades in toyota for truck opens crate of writings he abandoned in ‘80’s begins to rewrite story sits blurry eyed in front of computer screen his motivation has always been to tell truth as he knows it he wonders what ramifications his labor will bring positive or negative results? he guesses his story will sound like children’s fable in stark brutality of distant future october 2002 3 week ****** spree terrorizes maryland virginia  district of columbia 10 people killed 3 critically wounded police believe white van responsible october 24 man and 17-year-old boy arrested in blue chevy caprice juvenile is shooter assailants linked to string of random murders including unsolved shooting of man at golf course in tucson Odysseus mentions incident at work speaks of prevailing terror madness in america co-workers kid tell him he is crazy “did you see a white van parked outside the store Odys?” they seem desensitized to increasing national atmosphere of anger panic or perhaps they are overwhelmed by weight trauma of modern life lie after lie prevailing  havoc slaughter make for dull numbness in world they know suicide is compelling option december 22nd 2002 joe strummer dies from heart failure at age 50 Odysseus’s eyes wet he adored the clash everything they stood for loved joe strummer and mescaleros he plays “global a go-go” over and over listens sings along with first track “johnny appleseed” march 2003 president bush launches attack against iraq united states seems drunk with “shock and awe” zealous blind patriotism many people politicians countries around globe question unproven line of reasoning saddam hussein possesses “weapons of mass destruction” Odysseus gripes “not another **** vietnam” record company allows employees to check out take home used product Odysseus stopped watching movies in 1980’s he has lots of catching up to do particularly likes “natural born killers” “american history x” “american ******” “fight club” “way of the gun” “******” “king of new york” “basquiat” “frida” “*******” “before night falls” “quills” “requiem for a dream” “vanilla sky” “boys don’t cry” “being john malkovich” “adaptation” “kids” “lost in translation” “25th hour” “28 days later” “monster” “city of god” “gangs of new york” “**** bill” list goes on perfect circle becomes his favorite band followed by tool lacuna coil my morning jacket brian jonestown massacre flaming lips dredg drive-by truckers dropkick murphys flogging mollies nofx stereophonics eels weakerthans centro-matic califone godspeed you black emperor magnetic fields fiery furnaces dresden dolls smog granddaddy calexico howie gelb sufjan stevens warren haynes dax riggs john vanderslice alejandro escovedo sean paul elephant man bjork p. j. harvey ani difranco aimee mann cat power sophie b. hawkins kathleen edwards mia doi todd kimya dawson regina spektor carina round neko case fiona apple nina nastasia beth gibbons mirah rasputina dr. dre talib kweli immortal technique murs slug atmosphere trick daddy eazy-e tricky list goes on october 21 2003 elliott smith commits suicide stabbing 2 wounds into his chest Odysseus thinks about music when jimi hendrix stood up at woodstock deconstructing national anthem on guitar it took courage when punk emerged with ugly screechy sounds attempting to divorce itself from melodious harmonies of 1970s complacent crosby stills nash  the dead kennedys and *** pistol did not pander to conventional commercial success what they performed were desperate gutsy songs trying to reclaim music rock’n’roll is no longer about inventing instead it imitates its glorious past hip-hop and rap come nearest to risking rebellion but are caught in gangsterism infantile self-adulation no longer does music offer vision of what is or could be instead it conjures looping escapism from hopelessness of modern life he continues working at record shop for several years store contains every genre of music cinema he grows weary of retail sales weary of higher-ups constantly changing rules dictating what to do head manager is manipulative drama queen thrives on crisis once in private admits stealing from company Odysseus nods not knowing what to say head manager works Odysseus hard keeps him down atmosphere of conspiracy betrayal hang at start of each day assistant manager routinely taunts berates bullies teases regularly calls Odysseus “dumb-****” or “****-up” other times laughs after goading Odysseus to flinch eventually bully backs off and they become friends retail pushes Odysseus to brink of misanthropy corporation requires all employees to exercise overt courteousness while serving a public of disrespectful gang bangers demanding “show me black market brotha lynch mac dre why ya godda keep dat **** behind da counter? dat’s ****** up hey old man i ain’t got all day” it always amazes him when shoplifter is caught with product stuffed down his pants thief blatantly states “i didn’t do it i don’t know how that got there” thanksgiving through christmas to new years is most swarming stressful he feels like automaton greeting customer scanning product looking at screen to see if price agrees with product typing money amount counting money into drawer counting money out handing change to customer handing customer product receipt next customer cockroach capitalism packs of masses line up in endless stream of needs stupid remarks job also involves trade appraising condition value resale probability of cds dvds video games tapes vhs vinyl news of  iraq war gets dismal mounting civilian casualties suicide bombers hostages beheadings beginning of 2004 reports of torture ****** psychological abuse **** ****** ****** of prisoners at abu ghraib prison guantanamo bay white house cover-ups denials growing insurgency increasing u.s. body count other costs he thinks about men and women who are so much braver than him then comes re-election and lavish republican parties parades cheney rumsfeld tom delay and whole regime smirk portentously on tv none of it makes sense anymore “we the people of the united states” what does it mean? the dreams and aspirations of his generation have long since faded away he is citizen of forgotten past current world is barbaric place he barely recognizes there are real pirates with machetes rocket launchers on the seas big drug corporations hiding harmful findings kidnapped children abandoned children crooked politicians corruption at every level of society horrifying stories daily ******* priests slave markets extreme heinous cruelties abruptly everyone is acknowledging society is worsening life is not the same he does not understand people and certainly does not understand america or the world he remembers when all could be so good modern existence has turned everything into madness what happened to lessons of history? it is as if Odysseus fell asleep and when he woke everything is changed he is mistaken about what he thinks he knows feels pity for people america pity disgust sorrow he misses his dog

When I first moved out of my parents place,
And got an apartment with two of my buddies,
They asked why whenever I wanted to relax,
I'd have a beer and listen to music,
Why not play video games or watch TV?

I looked at them and remembered why,
It's what my grandpa would do when my grandparents babysat me ,
He'd be sitting in his chair, chewing some tobacco and listening to the radio,
Big Bands blaring out of the tinny speaker,
Enjoying the shade of the screened-in mud room.
And when I was a little older,
My dad use to sit out on the back porch after a hard day's work doing landscaping,
Nursing a cold beer and be listening to his records, which he had set up right by the backdoor, it's screen door allowing the sound to pass through with ease.
Sometimes Led Zeppelin,
Sometimes Rush,
Sometimes it was a band of some local talent that was all the rage for a week back in 1974.

Now it was my turn, even years after the revelation, that it was their way to decompress,
A reprieve from the days struggles.
For me it's a dining room that has a sliding glass door that opens out into the back yard,
Where I can play songs of my choice,
Either from albums I've gleaned from record shops over the years,
Or CDs burned , a gift from one person or another that everyone seems to collect over the years.

I'm almost out of smokes,
I realize,
This thought halting the ruminations I was just having,
I need to also choose a new record or CD,
Maybe getting a drink wouldn't be too bad either.

keyboards lights beer bottles paintings knives keys and things
chairs rugs walls floors speakers music air curtains wood
hammers cds paper cigarettes and misshapen dreams
that world around us
we see we see we see we see
sea **** you and me
oh please oh please
rambling for the sake of rambling
of the man who sat with a crooked smile
and broken teeth
a showers no shower with out heart
so whats the point to be clean
he lives on the street and I'm surrounded by clutter
I like the clutts of the ers
gives me reason to stay indoors on sunny days
and lose myself with imaginations of reconstructed men
who fought wars to lose wars who won battles to lose lives
who made money by losing it all
they were told what to do
these false imagined men
and they did just that cause they weren't men
but objects on the street corners
next to ******
at least ****** have jobs employed by lust
we pay them for a quick tour of our bodies
hey I say we're young explore yourself
that itch will go away
maybe
it didn't so you lived good job
tell the devil hi for me
i bet he's a fun guy
or a horned goat painted red by the blood
of the ****** and drama queens
who told stories to scare little children to do good
but that wasn't enough so we were bribed with gifts
gifts from a fat man who watched you day and night
who watched you sleep and say wether you've been naughty or nice
thats creepy
it worked
I got scared and I got anxious
they didn't mean to make me cry
but did i cry a river which flooded those imagined men
away from death into santas lap for the devil to poke with one of his horns
you pick which one
to know that you just realized how old your not
wishing you didn't wish anymore
for those gifts which made good boys and girls
momma didn't lie to hurt
so don't hurt my friends cause these words are random thoughts
unstopped by clicks and ticks from moving fingers
which just don't stop
won't stop
can't stop
will stop
stop

just go

Can I tell you
that I sure did miss your lovely ways
you use to play ray charles
and dance around with just your socks on
you'd tell me I worked too much I should've took a day off.
yeah yeah yeaaaaaah honey im sorry I didn't take a sick day
but now im takin sicks days being sick of not seeing you
my vinyls are all worn out
And the mixtapes you gave me are all worn out
Kinda like my heart
the cds they skip now
and im trying to recapture that melody
of the shower water hittin the floor
and your head burried in the covers
asking me to come to bed
I was to tired then
but now im not tired enough
oh boy
wow
oh boy
this could go on
and on
and on
and on

I'm buying some new old CDs
to remind me of my old young days.
The time of the trad jazz revival
and the stranger shores of Joan Baez.

Tom Lehrer made chemical magic
and poisoned pigeons in the park.
He promised to go with us when we go,
when we half expected nuclear snow.

Those were the days my friend
that came to an end, but like our parents,
we still feel warmth in summer suns
tht glow in memory's furlough.

nostalgia
hit me this morning
washed over me in
a wave of memories
so strong i could only
stand there until it passed

as i stood alone
counting money
that wasn’t mine
on a morning i didn’t
want to be awake
much less here

the words to an old
song trickled through
my mind and i could
hear my mother’s voice

see the glowing
stained glass turtle
in the corner of my
childhood bedroom
feel her hand
on my back

and i remembered
how it felt to be loved
and i missed it
missed her
missed who i was
before i learned
to take care
of myself

and i’ve been feeling
something lately
something like a wistful
kind of missing
what might have been
had i been different

something like the feeling
you get when you’re sitting
on a cold concrete floor
of the thrift store
running your fingers down
the spines of old cd cases
his hand on the top of
your head as you talk about
things you might need for
your first home together

and you find an album that
you had right in the middle
of your extensive list of cds
to buy when you were twelve

and you flip it over
look at the songs
think for a long
minute about how
happy this once
would have made you

before realizing
it doesn’t make you
happy now because
you’re somebody else

and you put it back
stand up and go to
look at furniture and
dishes and things
to take into your
future and you leave
your past hopes and
unresolved dreams back
there in the stacks
of other people’s discarded
songs and half finished stories
where you found it

and that’s what
life comes down to

the melodies that sometimes
flicker through our minds

and the possessions we
let pass through our hands

what we keep
what we let go

i’m ready
to let it go
childhood
the life given to me
before i was capable
of building my own

i’ve made a
new one
found a new
family and
there’s just
one last step

let the past all go
and find the only
thing i miss
from those days

peace of mind
no concept of time
falling asleep to
the hum of a
box fan and waking
up to a fresh sunrise

no more
constant buzzing
in my brain
of what ifs and
might have beens
just blank and
pale silence like
fresh fallen snow
that muffles it all

spring to summer
fall to winter
just constant
quiet in my mind

i’m pleading with
my own thoughts
please just let
myself go

Death [Loraine B] All photos and posts. Recent videos
of APAP. Take secure storage. [...]; 1. Issues - Special
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❍ ❍ ○ ||| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |||||||| | | |
Death [Allaah] All photos and posts. Recent videos
APAP. Secure storage. [...]; 1. Issues - Special
Definition's Definition: Asia. With the Lord. ❍ ❍ ❍
Search Products. He died in the house. Medium, ❍ ❍
First of all, sweet art 1000 Devices - Yes, some people's
Top image is required. Sort [...]. He was very like
'I am grateful.' ○ ○ Make a happy marriage of this growth. ❍ ❍ ❍
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bottles were shredded: ShutUpp, Shaking; One must have the
statues on hand themselves. Accurate and eternal ❍
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step 3: 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1: 1 | | | | | | | | |
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○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1: 1 | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1: 1 | | | | | |
| | | 1: 1: 1 Adolf ******, step 4.

She orchestrates her life 
With organization 
And control 
Ands let's not one problem 
Slip into place 
And she cleans her spotless room 
To prepare for the company 
Coming over 
And she takes precisely 
3 CDs
And scatters them artfully 
On her desk
To make the room seem 
Lived in 
And less perfect 
As she tries to mask 
Her loneliness 
And separation 
That gusts just strong enough 
To shake the timbers 
But leaves the foundation 
Still standing

So I just thought I'd sit here for a moment and reminisce
It's a chilling feeling thinking bout all the times I've missed.
getting sick of corner living,
Don't know why I got used to the pain,
Probably because I've been grabbing matches by the flame
shouting out
WHO IS THIS KID, WHO IS THIS MAN, WHO AM I!
I light another
while I'm burning CDs filled with beats,
and at night I smoke my blunts straight to the dome so I can feel a bit  more at home.
See the fact of the matter if the woman has noticed,
That this man has lost his focus,
and just the quick like hocus pocus,
Houdini back into focus.
and now boys to high up to come down from neverland,
So I guess that means he'll changed his looks, so he wouldn't appear to be such a ******* crook.
Acidic dripping form of ma become a figure of captain hook.
And the passerby  gawks and  quivers at the sight of a boy who casts a phantasm of a man,
but felt good because they knew that they would make a change if they could,
And I a phantasm of man speak: Is it I you are afraid of heard no reply
Said fug it lit a cigarette while he
spread his black and tattered wings
and flew out into constant existence
while finding out the at the same time
the only meaning to life is simply living with new found meaning.

its funny how
desperately
you wanted to
take my heart
away from me
and now you're
just throwing
it away like
your old cds

This is to all those misfits

To the Romeo car-washing in Inglewood inlets
To the Hippy selling crystals on the Venice boardwalk
The Magician swallowing 8-***** at the Huntington Beach peer
The Rapper selling CDs in the Ranch Market parking lot
The **** tatting in a makeshift garage
The Poet slinging chapbooks at cafes and rec centers…


Not androids pontificating from lecterns
But grimy roots burrowing deep
Seismic rumblings toppling down
Insured ivory towers
Smashing pilled-paradigms beneath Docs
Hustling and slinging
In the forbidden outshacks of civilization
In tents, over barbed-wire, beside shards
Desperate and burning
For neither Truth or Beauty
But for LIFE

They do not tap wrists
No,  they thump chests
To feel it beat
To feel it rage
For fugitive fugues
For new eternities

They embrace
******* romance
Graveyard necromance
The holy hunger for change
Defying commercials and charts
Shivering and howling on streets
Waging guerrilla war
Liberating cubicled-hearts