#fisher
How does capitalism deeply impact my life?
I want to make music so bad, but I procrastinate with stupid ****
I clean as if people could come over anytime and judge me superficially. I often go out and shop for things I futilely hope will organize me enough to make cleaning faster. I shop for obscure musical instruments and gear to feel like it'll make making music easier.
In capitalism, owning the machinery is more valuable than doing the work. We ingrain that in our soul, more and more. Negative liberty was always valuable, but when you had less you used to find others to help turn that liberty positive.
I have a guitar, bass, and drums, but no band. Self-alienation at this point. All my friends play, but don't want to make it a thing.
Our leaders are just hype men and chaos actors to keep the mystery going. "Capitalism may be cruel, but it's the best system we got."
"Capitalism just means people have the right to go into business for themselves." No the owners are subservient to something greater too. They serve capital, they serve the absolution of all. Your automatic answer is "it wasn't my fault." It was incorporated, depersonalized.
So many dead and broken people. So much waste. Digging up so much petroleum, the plastic's in our veins. "It's no one's fault." If by some astronomical chance a concerned public win a Kafkaesque trial, all that's lost is money. No one goes to jail or suffers, if you own enough stuff.
But there's the pickle. "The things you own start to own you," of course, but what's much worse is the Nothing they serve needs to grow, until there's no humanity left. Becoming voids who only seek more efficient ways to delete.
Aug 13, 2024
Aug 13, 2024 at 11:31 AM UTC
“where time is the fly and age the fisher of men”
<>
*”until I fell forward
into fall where time is
the fly and age the fisher
of men, then when winter
begins all will be forgotten,
where time is the fly and
age the fisher of men”*
excerpt from “The Fall” by Rick Richardson
<>
that words from a different ionic state, jump as embodied ions from screen to the throat, evicting a guttural current of exclamation, you believe even with the half-heartedly palpitations from remainder of my damaged pumping heart, that these words were always intended, just for me…
boy and old man coexist, the pottage of memories stirred,
and the time is fly, and I drown in the miracle of greenest grass of
Yankee Stadium at age eight,
oasis, heaven, a child reborn in a sea of Bronx concrete,
and the swallowing up of my boyhood is forever marked henceforth, the hook has caught me, and I am of the age
once and forever
not a fisherman, but a fisher of men’s souls,
mine own is my best bait,
hooked line and sinker, and
wisdom and words
elude and delude always,
like summer is perpetual and aging a construct,
time does not fly, but slowly laps and waves
eroding our myths and ourselves upon a continuum with
no ends
~postscript~
<>
*yet I believe,
in miracles of
fish and loaves,
and that our individual continuums
will exist beyond the artifice of constraints
of
mortal time and that poems are
the forever chemicals within
our
bloodstreams,
even when our blood no longer spills*
yet I believe!
Sep 6, 2023
Sep 6, 2023 at 7:57 AM UTC
i'm tired of being loved
"just because".
have you nothing better to do
than break hearts on your free time?
next time,
just say no.
Nov 20, 2019
Nov 20, 2019 at 4:20 AM UTC
the moment I lay my eyes on you,
it was like putting another stone on stomp,
I buried your soul from the first heavy stair
like I'm extracting your innocence,
this is how I became a fisher of men.
Using words to finish what lord made.
All we do is Catch fish.
The mall, Campus even the street are the only occean we live in.
Next.
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 6:26 AM UTC
Please walk by me,
The music's cranked to hear my mind breath
I can't hear you and please don't remind me
I'm aware of the bass and snare
Keeping all other opinions out of there
It's not as simple as, "I don't care"
But at the same time I'm happily unknown,
So don't address yourself to me over here.
Leaving me in my own zone.
It's confusing, seeing me wandering by
See I'm happy, I'm laughing
You just don't have the formula to understand
That I have no master plan
I choose to dance with uncertainty
And I love it.
I love it like a random Wednesday drive
With no map, following clouds in the sky
The roads are the veins
To my pulse carrying me by
This is my zone, where I am alive
Don't squander my voice,
This place I've found is just mine
I'll stay here awhile, you can pass me by
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 1:33 AM UTC
All this air is getting so thick
With sick, powerful people, taking the open space all away
Concrete on the parks, we use to play
Imprison the mind until those dreams start to fade
We're fighting for oxygen
Suffocating on the stuff they make us breath.
We're fighting for oxygen
Make like the trees but, denied the ability to leave.
We're fighting for oxygen
They sold the air for a lot of corporate greed.
You wouldn't understand all the hands
Shaking ***** plans behind closed doors
You wouldn't understand all the rich
Switching winning sides of a poor man's war.
How can I respect this beautiful land
When it's governed by grease-palmed ******
How can I respect these political felons
While I'm just fighting for oxygen?
They tell me to take a stand for what's right
In this place I still call free
They tell me to take a stand
"But only if it holds the same view as me"
I'm looking up to stars, light years from this place
Aligned to show a for sale sign on my face
They'd sell the earth I enjoyed living in
And make me fight for this oxygen
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 1:00 AM UTC
My mind is like crank, turning out ideas
Look around this room, no cobwebs here
The door is always open, I'm hoping you see me
As just the same as you, a man with little plan
But still stand for whatever belief I hold,
The fact is all the gold in the world
Isn't worth your integrity, regrettably,
Some can be sold, I stand before you
With a five and a seven, still never fold
I'm that wild card, that was hard to shuffle,
Feathers covered in oil and ruffled,
The secret is I've got ridges, Forget being religious,
You're a god, make a miracle, they may shun you,
Like a man believing in a world that's spherical.
Still someone has to climb that ladder,
At day's end you can look in a mirror
And it may not shatter.
Life is good, the hell of today, it fades.
Put down the rope and take up knot - tying
Similarly, the people who look down at you for not trying
Are not trying to see how hard you are trying.
It's not worth crying to the same lace pillow case
About that dream you believe you aren't good enough to chase
Fads and trends blend until you can't tell them apart
But real passion is only found in heart and reflected through eyes
In an adult world, that part of humans seems to die.
Alright. Jump and possibly fly.
Build people up with dreams like legos
And let go of the expectation of current standings
The runway may not be clear but you don't need landing
Plan for the best, the worst just ends in a hearse
Believe me, I've been unbreathing.
A good night, I fly into?
drag me from my flesh, I'm not leaving.
Don't believe me, I'll almost die twenty times with a heart beating.
I'm not leaving.
You'll have to **** a soul from my soles until this ground swallows me whole.
Still this body will never go cold.
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 12:57 AM UTC
Remember that one time,
driving down the same run down streets
When the sun shined through the sky
And in the heat of the moment, I believed this world was mine
Even in signs of omens, we tango on.
We dance on broken glass while singing off-key harmonies
We tango on, while the world laughs at such simplistic views
Tell me how much paper with a man's face means to you.
Still remember, mine are the ideals who are skewed.
You may have my trinkets. My home. My life.
But this name, will be mine to ***** and mine alone.
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 12:11 AM UTC
Give me a beat to drift with
For the focus I need, I need my mind lifted
Out of this skull you try to pull me back
I don't lack attention because you don't hold my attention
This detention is too basic so I tend to twist it.
Give me a beat to drift with
To you its just noise, this is the soundtrack I live in
These words flowing out of me like a record stuck spinning
Praying I don't get stuck on these scratches
And detach from the needle, that I have my grooves in
I do the impossible with bass, battling my fears
Flashback to the tears of some years ago
Driving home from a job I just got let go,
Figuring out how to let my wife know
Feeling like a bird having its wings clipped
Give me a bass to break walls with
But here I am a force you just can't stop, sir
As I was taking that one test to change my fate
I was blasting Watsky and T. Walker
With an inspirational message lasting
To the point that I walked out a ninety question wreck
And came out a certified pharmacy tech.
I'm clinging to these lyrics like my world depends on it
I don't even know what god to thank for the ceilings I hit
So I pray to a different one every night and love this life
Even as I lay here writing, I hear what another is writing
Pounding through my head, in a perfect reciting
Give me the words to widen minds with
I don't even know what god to thank for the ceilings I hit
So I pray to a different one every night with the love of my life.
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 12:04 AM UTC
I apologize for what you read here,
Some people may not believe what they read here.
You see, my generation, is shot down on all accounts
I don't play a victim in this scene, I take a higher route.
They brush me off as joker, dreaming of waking up
I've been climbing trees for fruit but now I'm on the ground shaking them up.
I'm not looking for a handout as my career track shows
But who am I, among these gods, to deny a poor man clothes.
See I'm living in a world where, when I'm old and grown,
The social security I'm paying into will be unknown,
Men and women my age are going on war tours
Left their minds overseas and come back abandoned poor,
Still forgetting what god I'm supposedly fighting for.
I sit patient as they tax my metophorical tea
Then turn on the TV and see riots in the street
As if this history just isn't skipping a beat
I couldn't care less about your race or sexuality,
About your religious ideology, or the identity you see.
I'm looking you point blank and just asking if you're happy.
Because these streets look so bleak
While holding a connected world in my hands,
Still so afraid to speak because everything has to be
So contradictory and couldn't we agree
That my generation is bad
But the previous one raised me.
A lady I work with, she works eighty hours a week
Her old man's at home wearing medical bills as shackles on his feet.
She keeps fighting strong and he keeps pushing on
But they ******* them and take the cane their standing on
Maybe I'm naive but this system just seems so wrong.
You can tax me for education,
Take a dollar for someone's medical bills too
This money is so common, there's only one of you.
I'm not looking to pick a fight
I'm just stating what I believe is right
Throwing down my pen, cutting sharper than a knife.
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 11:28 PM UTC
drowned in moonlight.
the smell of cigarettes and cinnamon.
unapologetic,
yet warm and kind hearted.
the brightest star in the sky,
oh how she shines.
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 12:03 AM UTC
Makes Me Feel Alive!!!!!!
Dancing Saturns
Revving Up the Room
African Dance Club
Bright White Lights of Acknowledgement
Give These Twists and Twirls
This Night
Called Life Pure Love
Rub up Against Me Love
Show The Way We Way
Tomorrows Gift
Another Day!!!
Baby, take me into the Miracle Light
Love Is the Breeze
That sings This Holy Temple
I saw The Sign
Comet in the Sky
Angels Blessing
Rocket Man
Gratitude Our Fuel
Take My Love
And Hold it Forever
Spread This Wealth I am
From The Highest Mountain
Let the Monarchs Gather
Fire Ritual Of A Lamas touch
Horizon Magic Word of God
Take This Glittering
Nepal
Mountain Legacy onoma
Our Gift
Blessings
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 7:28 PM UTC