#paradigm
I'm a closet extrovert, the room, I show the most
Mar 7
Mar 7, 2026 at 1:36 PM UTC
Life can seem like a nightmare
I'm afraid of all of the time
I release my flair in the night air
Noticing all the fear is of the same kind
I more than recognize the familiar glare
The eyes looking back at me are mine
Aware that I'm unaware
Fair or not,
Witness my paradigm
©2024
Mar 30, 2024
Mar 30, 2024 at 5:10 PM UTC
I could bare a thousand screams, A thousand wounds, scars and burns.
I could **** a thousand men for a moment in the eyes of god.
What I wouldn't do just to carve a crevice out of the world
Just to show the mark of a mad man craving truth.
Put a knife straight to gods eye if it meant the blood I shed made one less person cry.
I've beg for forgiveness and broken every bond looking for an out.
I've come again trading my soul for a chance for others to hear my shout.
You'll be ok.
Feb 5, 2024
Feb 5, 2024 at 7:24 PM UTC
Assuming control of the pen, from afar,
my mind’s spring leaks
trickling pasts through your present
to waken the hope that is in you,
you know
the taste of good and evil.
You discern flecks of the fruit in your stew.
Who brought these gourds,
who poisoned the broth of the good life,
who’s hate do you hold, in your beggar’s bowl,
really?
Feb 12, 2021
Feb 12, 2021 at 4:14 PM UTC
We'll die that death a million times
the one, we can't let go
where saving more than just ourselves
the crop the fields, we sow
No one worthy more than most
a warrior on the plains
fighting above and far beyond
saving what, remains
We are I think, a paradigm
complex and misunderstood
not what we do for honor, much
as burning for what we know is right
and should
Oct 26, 2020
Oct 26, 2020 at 3:07 PM UTC
Why change ways now
Let the devil take a bow
Like when we were young
Getting high and having fun
Scrub the paradigm shift
All this foolishness is bliss
Perhaps
A one-way road to the abyss
Don’t concern yourself with bigger things
Being right is preordained
After all
The Mountain is going to catch you
When you fall
Just stand tall
It’s them or someone else
Your victim knows it well
Come and join the party
Propaganda sales
The stock markets doing great Wall Street is having a feast
Pay no attention to the millions in the street
.............
Voting blue will not save you
Voting blue will not save you
Voting blue will not save you
Resistance is futile
Aug 3, 2020
Aug 3, 2020 at 8:36 AM UTC
I,
Defy the paradigm,
The escapist void,
Lines of code I refuse to obey.
I defy,
Defy,
All emotionalogic.
I make no sense,
Or a dollar that pays my way to ignorant bliss.
'Tis the streets upon which I so selfishly make my way and,
My gears turn with no source or destination.
I am the,
Status quo of the chronically out of place.
So,
Take that next step,
Show me.
Jul 31, 2020
Jul 31, 2020 at 8:14 AM UTC
Whittle away at stone
or at wood
carving the shape
in your mind
Imposing your will
if it does any good
even though you're deaf dumb
and blind
Man against man
man versus machine
man and woman
entwined
Grasping at art
the person you've been
maybe not happy, or giving
or kind
Coming the day
when paradigm strikes
and like a bolt through
your brain
You'll comprehend fail
like a wreck in the night
all of those feelings
and more
will remain
Jul 15, 2020
Jul 15, 2020 at 12:14 AM UTC
Corona created chaotic choices.
Crumbling and collapsing decaying capitalism.
Birthing conscious awakenings in all corners of the world.
Kindness became the new currency.
The spoon fed fear, once zealously swallowed.
A Grimm bed time story for children grown up
Always thirsting for more,
having known nothing else.
Before the tide turned.
Before the silence.
And the old ways, became the old ways.
And the new ways -
Free will.
Still feeling like dress up clothes
not yet feeling the fit.
But with the courage and curiosity of pioneers,
We learned to feel comfortable in our own power.
We grew into our new skin, as we shed the old.
Conscious awakened.
Now flying freely.
Free birds flowing on clear currents.
Skies of infinite possibility
Illuminating landscapes of love,
Dancing in footsteps of joy
Draped in New dreams
and hope
On a newly
birthed Earth.
We called that time,
The Beginning.
May 14, 2020
May 14, 2020 at 8:31 AM UTC
Come and see
in the night painted sky
a scattered brilliance
vivid, ever aglow
Take time again to look
at each irrelevant speck
alight tonight
just for you... see
Didn't you notice
the dullest star
no longer shines
as before?
But today, yes today
it radiates more than most
Come and gaze
at the night painted sky
its passing; it is passing
the star inside of me
Nov 4, 2019
Nov 4, 2019 at 12:21 AM UTC
In the first place some should've never begun.
It is easy to destroy than to build one.
A domain that worst things can creep in.
A cure and also a poison from within.
At the core, there is no room for selfishness;
Just unconditional commitment,
-nothing more and nothing less,
In some degree,
it can be bounded by unhealthy desire.
But to endure pain for the sake of it,
is baptism by fire.
It takes cues from our senses.
It is more than everything we see.
But one thing is for certain,
in this domain, there is always you and me.
Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 8:46 AM UTC
I have always thought if two people were in love
Together could take any obstacle
If they tried their hardest to work it out
No problem could remain unsolvable
I was the paradigm of hopeless romantic
Pristine
Knowing your heart my greatest wish
A privilege to be chosen as your queen
Knees wobbling like jellyfish
I was sure our friendship would not fail
You were the only thing I ever wanted
Foolish belief
We could survive on love
What had my head undaunted
To those who are disillusioned
(Like me)
Please
I beg you to stop
Need to open your eyes
Before you fall from clouds
A far drop
I found my theories to be wrong
All along living a dream
Two hearts in love did try
Both burned as a team
Our bond destroyed by negligence
We will rebuild our lives apart
Misfortune cares not for romance
Time removed softness from each heart
In my mind delusions are shattered
Of you
What love is
Will I find strength to fall once more?
Or be alone as long as I live?
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 6:20 AM UTC
In the crisp of morning, does edge of rest approach. For in the tents of great men do the warriors awaken in preparation for battle.
Sharpening their swords, fortifying their shields, girding their spears and dawning their armours - a crest for honour. Though amid the steadiness, do they await the word of their beloved monach.
"Sar-Shalom!" be the cries heard, echoeing upon the voices of the wind. Reaching even beyond the battlefields. The name of the monach, adored by the great men, anticipating the words to come.
Alas, wisdom comes on the voice of the wind: "In the vallies, will you victories come". Bewildered they stood, asking themselves "why?" But, their monach adorned in their love does their loyalty stand.
So, to the vallies do they march. Upon the word do they stand, anticipation honoured by their trust. For a hard battle will they fight, yet a grand victory will they know - a relief from their beloved.
From the peaks do they descend, and to the vallies do they arrive. The battlefield marked for honour by their seeing eyes;
Unsheathing are they ready, for the accusers come - but unexpecting are they, for the assurance declared in the meeting of blades.
The divines surrounding their accusers, is the battle endorsed for the victors. As they cut down even their final Goliaths. In the praises given up on the voices of the wind, does Sar-Shalom hear the chants - His great men, now the victories of Eden.
Now the journey do they cherish, in returning to their home. The tents of great men, now victories on the heights. What more shall be done? But to sing in glee. For the enemies borders are lost in the restoring victory.
Their wounds shall heal, and bruises shall fade, but the songs of glee shall ring out through time, eternal;
Oh, the voices of the winds chant forever "Victory in the Vallies!"
Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 8:36 PM UTC
During growth
One will be questioned
1000 times, or more
With/Without any, choice
Under different circumstances
Where
Some responses
One answered
Will be different
To their understanding
Eventually
One needs to be prepared
To face the criticism
And sometimes
Silence is wisdom
Apr 14, 2019
Apr 14, 2019 at 10:18 AM UTC
in my paradigm, a word to define
from now on such words,
we presume
you can lookitup. Yacoulda in 2019.
if you don't assume you
knew what that word meant when
phirst poured into me,
the idea in the word,
actedly as you act
ually allow true,
in the dom whence thy will is done, yknow?
presumptible words hold whole preconceptual
assumption of the neccessary fiction
Migration outa hell, the myth
ic map.
That'll only getcha yea far.
Once a good idea has a man,
History sets the rules for maintaining our living culture,
(lest we forget, some animals is more equal)
but once manifested, the awaited ones,
groaned for in labour like,
the twentieth century
here we come
the good idea posse, plague on
userers and slavers and oppressors, and professors
confessing greed is the engine of
onward, as we were, we shall become
they say to the we we ain't.
We are robbers
of noble wisdom occluded behind tonsored and tenured
guild rules for heresy pre
vention.
Imps, good imps, impulses to do, right, sativa in
fluency,
we take hold in mortal minds and lift the blinds on
things hidden from the foundations of the world,
now, all ye need is
-- a login and password, All the public lies unbelieved
-- from word one to right just now,
-- we un done 'em. You gotta know how to phrase
---a quest request.
-----is that a problem, are you offended that keywords
-----and key phrases,
----can open doors on no map of meaning you drew,
---- as magi were said to do?
ah, a door in y' back wall, o'yerown persian guarded den,
a glance o'er y'shoulder,
duck, crawl, through the wall
we chipped away some old mortar around
stones who can testify our right
to interupt re
ality, as you will
---
AH, I live in a Archetrope, as a sorta hippy hermit former farmer,
relative of the
Outlaw-Lawman Archtype Classes, decended from Tubalcain,
through Na'amah, ancient mitochondrial
genes pre
valent in general hill folk
who tend to bake probiotic home-made
bread starter. I'm the idea. The idea that goes with
certain old recipes and those smells,
****** gluonic pro
tonic action,
but I am a recent roll-out, 5G.
We be given leave for
quarkish tricks with words,
if you can believe that.
Note to self: this is only funny if you presume to know
meaning's meaning as related by JBP. And then,
you laugh a liar laugh, as if, a little
levity leavened ye, f'crysoutloud, and yewerekewl,
you knew. Yeah, y'knew all them Jordan B. Peterson
polysyllabic synchronic
ex-plain words,
You did read the whole reading list, right?
How childish a question have you lied
to answer, because, aitia, you did not know?
New values. Junk yard values.
What good's this thang?
That's a crankshaft, the piston rod connects
down from the piston, down to
that. Crankshaft. That one's for a chivvysix.
SO, what good's it?
Not much. The car it was in won't work no more.
-----
on the border twixt known and un
the future scented in the past, orange blossum
special, borego super bloom
golden valley full o' poppies, in re
al life, already already, alright.
If you get the drift, blown in the wind back when poppies
conspired to sow seed in abundance beyond
the possibility of that now winter then
to sustain or even wake
2 in twenty,
back then when rain did not come until Febru
ary, and then, but a
pittance. Poppies and Bluebelles whispered into
pollen on the way west, sea,
see us from our wind,
next winter, we have sown our hearts out,
so send some clouds to start the spell,
the smell,
desert bloomin' pollen way, so easy to see,
intagiios of life laughing in color for such as
find now enough, enough
to see and let be true,
look up
and fly to learn to see as a silver raven could
with your eye,
your POV in sus
pected un belief.
Pop.
---
the current or pre existant state
next.
AH
HA this is not one of those mytheries mystery
fectory confections one may buy
hand-dipped
in many wee wide spots in the road,
where enough was enough
a good
while ago. A previous and probable future
stable horizon of delight
no walls. The idea twisted into paradice is
from when the hearts of men had never been
re
deemed worth the effort to fill them with
you know, good and evil, plus why and how not,
you know, you know how, but you know
how not to, too. And any fool can learn in
life's most dangerous univers
ity ified as lived, breathed in'n'out exper
ience.
Winning and being may not be mistook past here.
Find that which has been lost
since birth.
Find the old way, where good is. Walk it.
Find the message in the old words. Talk it.
Compliance or complexity. Not my job or ...
come to think...
Mentioning winning, maybe, yeah, ya'll'll gitit
My job, as a good gob of complexity eating juices,
fermented from trodden grapes o' wrath,
way back, when...
I was sung once, just
once...
in an orange orchard, I was the the ******
or dwarf who caught the idea
from the wanderer walking in the orchard to smell
the sweat and sing at the top of his lungs
Operetic otic baritone
Faith
is the evidence
Faith!
is the evidence evidence evidence dense dense,
(
william tell)
Jim Dee was Tonto and he, con sidereal authority wise,
considered us fools, who said in their hearts,
here is where all truth dwells. (they were children, then)
the dwarf in me caught the idea
and went
Chuck Berry duckwalk air guitar singing high tenor,
Woe to the soul, what don't believe,
Woe, Sisyphus, roll it up'n' let'erole
evolve, little ****** beasty idea virus, roll out,
role on. That's the trick.Just be good for goodness,
that feeling, y'know. You got it.
Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 8:08 PM UTC
I'm a small pebble
making a giant ripple
A speck of black sand
on a coral white beach
The left foot
kicking up a storm
A hermit, a drifter
a paradigm shifter
I am a disruptive
not a destructive force
I think outside of the box because inside I'm lost
I've been Nero, DaVinci
Neruda, Dali
burned as a witch
and now I'm just me....
a small pebble
making a giant ripple
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 9:47 AM UTC
Poems don't have to rhyme.
What a way to spend your time,
Constrained within a paradigm.
But, admittedly when they do,
They are quite sublime,
Giving each word a reverberating chime.
Writer's block
Is like a rock,
A door that's locked,
A brain out of stock.
The mind is a forest
Still with places where no one goes
It doesn't disclose the secrets no one knows
There is no line between poetry and prose.
Because poems don't have to rhyme.
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 10:18 PM UTC
Silk fabrics, spin words like a black widow.
Observing shapes on the crest through a cracked window.
Faded kinfolk percolate a vicious cycle.
Concede the title, passed from an image spiteful.
Hooded silhouettes cast a shadow in dystopia,
cityscape a gallow the skies hold a rope for ya.
Urban paradigm, tantamount to euthanasia.
Soured fruits bear the hallmarks of human nature.
Twisted labyrinth, apertures soak mundane fragments
innate patterns, ways learned through a stained malice.
Same chalice bequeathed, from a father deceased,
drowned in his sleep under smeared linen sheets.
In the belly of the beast, waves echoed familiar,
another soul torn in this concrete perimeter.
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 7:31 AM UTC
I woke up this morning pretty thankful.
Just a few years ago I was put into maximum security prison.
Today I had the best coffee of my life with a beautiful woman.
Things were really put into perspective and in that moment...
I said hello.
Jun 19, 2017
Jun 19, 2017 at 1:56 PM UTC
That word. Enough.
It rings with impatience.
Enough. What is Enough.
For me. Enough. Is too much.
Enough. Is a spectrum. Of opposing sides.
On one end. Those who have had Enough.
On the other. Those who haven't had Enough.
On one end. Those who die because of Enough.
On the other. Those who live because of Enough.
People claim that All Lives Matter.
But they haven't mattered Enough.
Black Lives Matter. But they haven't Enough.
On that spectrum of skin from Black to White.
This country's decided where Enough is.
Right on the line where you matter
Just not Enough for change.
Not Enough
Not Enough
Not Enough
So when. Is Enough. When is that.
When will Enough. Actually be Enough.
These people surely have had Enough.
But clearly not Enough for you.
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 2:44 PM UTC
Inception Transcribed (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
==Inception Transcribed ==
by
SassyJ
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
(Copy the link below to your browser)
Inception and intersection of human life are diverse. We are ushered as a blank canvas to the shores of life. Socialised with values, beliefs and cultures. Our acclimatised acculturation. Submerged in the swampy lowlands each sunk and wandering through and through.
This morning I woke and left my house...... looked up to the horizons of nature. And there it was.... a revolving camera smiling at each stride I take... following me and taunting me. Unreserved in institutions, submerged in the ever decaying social structures.
Why do we do what we do everyday?
Is it part of the human processes and functions?
To exist and be absolutely absent but present. I fret, then I smile. Trying to join the puzzles in the mazes. Ever questioning if I am here to learn or to be polluted by bureaucracy.
Lets call for an assembly, announce that the town is dead. Yet, its people are gasping, breathing to fill their lives with a new paradigm. Look at me all cyanosed , the blueness of the dying veins... sunk in the redistribution and social panic. Re-engaged in the demoralised democracy. Look at me asking....
What is the meaning of life?
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC
The glass of wine spins on sins
Encircling the royal roulette
All rotating on a hamster wheel
Pinned on canvas and illusional walls
So tiny in errors and unbalanced books
Unaccounted annotated distributions
Twisting hands on colluded coils
Deeper projections from the heart
An eruption of the social notions
Extracted on the paradise of life
For no truth echoes authenticity
Eccentrically finding a lived reality
Plato symposiums and simulacrums
Pavlov trails of social conditioning
Sampled in tented objectifications
Functioning within the invisible rules
We sniffle as we expose the false actuality
Reactive explosions from robust heat
Unloaded rods dancing under the moon
In our tenderness rejecting the paradigm
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 1:03 PM UTC