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"audio" poems
From Alan Lomax to the commercial art and now the money machine. At the turn of the century; when sound recording 1st became available to the masses, recording a song was an opportunity for folk to reach out; and tell the world something up front and personal. It meant that people were able to put themselves on “The record” A way of leaving a permanent audio statement, an epitaph, an audio sound bite immortalising ~ life, mood, emotion captured and bottled for all eternity. (A medium that conveyed messages from artists and storytellers of all kinds) A recording was also a great addition to "The family album" something more tangible, a window to a real person, with a real life, a message and a point of view; a legacy, a blast from the past. Few people expected sound prints to be re-designed, homogenised, formulated, copied, repackaged and that art and the message would be played over and over again by new artists in the form of "cover music" or that the style of the messages would become secularized, seperated into distinctive groups, or constrained by an elite clique or commercial genre. Labelling and streamlining art & music mostly benefits the commercial art & music industry; and no longer the artists and creators. I've no problem with good business, or the multi-billion pound industrys that have gained commercial success. However the process of mass homogenisation, product synthesis, marketing, streamlining and then packaging fashion, sound and synthetic culture to sell a product, leaves very little room for creative people to just be creative. A medium originally open to many for self expression, a historical record, an archive, a voice, a personal message; Is now just a vehicle for advertising and perpetuating a genre of nonsense, so much so that there is now more white noise immortalised than messages. To re-cap ~ I Think that creativity and expressionism; like story telling conveys moods and messages from the present and past! Artists and musicians should have the opportunity to create and produce more information than they copy; thus creating a richer more colourful tapestry, whilst not devaluing the message of their predecessors! Purcy Flaherty.
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Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 10:38 AM UTC
The media machine and its lack of authenticity
From Alan Lomax to the commercial art and now the money machine. At the turn of the century; when sound recording 1st became available to the masses, recording a song was an opportunity for folk to reach out; and tell the world something up front and personal. It meant that people were able to put themselves on “The record” A way of leaving a permanent audio statement, an epitaph, an audio sound bite immortalising ~ life, mood, emotion captured and bottled for all eternity. (A medium that conveyed messages from artists and storytellers of all kinds) A recording was also a great addition to "The family album" something more tangible, a window to a real person, with a real life, a message and a point of view; a legacy, a blast from the past. Few people expected sound prints to be re-designed, homogenised, formulated, copied, repackaged and that art and the message would be played over and over again by new artists in the form of "cover music" or that the style of the messages would become secularized, seperated into distinctive groups, or constrained by an elite clique or commercial genre. Labelling and streamlining art & music mostly benefits the commercial art & music industry; and no longer the artists and creators. I've no problem with good business, or the multi-billion pound industrys that have gained commercial success. However the process of mass homogenisation, product synthesis, marketing, streamlining and then packaging fashion, sound and synthetic culture to sell a product, leaves very little room for creative people to just be creative. A medium originally open to many for self expression, a historical record, an archive, a voice, a personal message; Is now just a vehicle for advertising and perpetuating a genre of nonsense, so much so that there is now more white noise immortalised than messages. To re-cap ~ I Think that creativity and expressionism; like story telling conveys moods and messages from the present and past! Artists and musicians should have the opportunity to create and produce more information than they copy; thus creating a richer more colourful tapestry, whilst not devaluing the message of their predecessors! Purcy Flaherty.
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14
To hear the priceless sounds, No medicine competes. In the rhythms, I am bound In success or in defeat. through the tolling of the time- With those quickening beats, The sound invokes with clever rhyme both privilege and a treat: Light and easy, peaceful and bright, Or Insidious, sinister, audio plight. Sorrow, hatred; loss and gain Drugs and *** and love and pain. From Intro to Chorus, to Verse-Refrain melodies tattooed deep in the brain; Act as the sun, when it does rain And as both dirt and soap, when life does stain.
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Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 12:09 AM UTC
Man Made Magic
In tunnelled darks, pastes of reminisce Outward disjoint points to irrelevance Spooned and coned in cold mountaintops The darks of sorrows and trails of struggles Persistence patterns of self satire in gloom Sunken in identity crisis of broad oceans Stormy seas spotlighted by beatific stars Trajectory of spilled ice in recurrent motions A mere past cocooned by fears and tears Clouded in thoughts that cruise and decline Greyed white imprinted by sudden sadness Madness echoes on arched ancient bricks Checkered maniacs of fulfilled passions Filed and iced in cased prolific memories Cascades of sunshine tickles to warmth Orchards of glow that bloom and grow Picked, ticked and unpacked from boxes Attacked, nurtured and stored in bliss Eventful lessons unfolds in untold augury A mission as the known permeates and fade Windowed eyes all line up in parade Mirrored lights digest the haunted haste A stranger to self, an ally to another A dance of bright entwine a twist of blur
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Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 11:48 AM UTC
Checkered Darks (Lyrical Poetry Additional Audio)
Hollyhocks, sandals with socks Knickerbocker glories Salty air, old caravans Magical bedtime stories Fish 'n' chips, sticks of rock Climbing fragrant evergreens Endless hikes, stunning views Sandwiches with sardines Long car rides, minor quarrels Enid Blyton audio tapes Forever etched in my memory   Our annual escapes
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Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 8:48 AM UTC
80s holiday
She prays upon an oval pill While the universe plays the blues Colors mix with audio pollution Incongruous are the hues Her head’s a church of bats Screeching and shrilling, imagine that Her stereo is her only muse
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Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 12:30 PM UTC
Audio Pollution
Here is the link to hear my poem "Genevieve of the Deep" in an audio form. xoxo https://soundcloud.com/nayokenza/a-visceral-collection-of-thoughts-genevieve-of-the-deep
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Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 2:05 AM UTC
Genevieve of the Deep Audio
In the audio recording you sent me An hour of touching yourself punishment for misbehavior you giggled and cried at the same time The "Oh, fuck"'s "dear, God"'s They built up inside screaming for the pain to stop With a trembling whimper. "This is fun, but I can't wait 'till it's over" If only you had said this sooner In the daylight We could have known Time was running out. We were never so honest as our *** Not even to ourselves
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May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 11:06 AM UTC
Punishment.mp4
Trip over the high density of our constant lies We're all out to break and hurt the non-elite Words and phrases they never meant a thing but to lure you in This facade of love that we send soldiers like cattle Down an assembly line to build and protect A fake America, burning towers tumbling down Bellowing the sweet sorrows of victims Whose screams we replay the audio over and over To divert you from seeing the real culprit   We are sick minded human beings with the thirst for enemies We'll kiss everyone we meet on the cheek And continue to fake what we tell you we'll be We prefer a stabbing to the back Never a full frontal attack And we have puppets We'll always find someone to replace the current like the forty four before The people's memories will fade and burn like corpses caused by the Enola Gay We''ll drop a bomb to wipe out everything mankind has worked for Because in the end we do not need peasants We have everything and everyone else has absolutely nothing And 99% will lay to waste and ruin in the ruins we leave to burn We'll pity so we can mislead to false hope Send small portions of rations to schedule feeding underlings Flouride in the drinking water to better control Corruption in the oval office classified, uncovered, never shared Always kept underwraps, never revealed just a hoax. Lips to ears do the whispers carry. A promise for a better tomorrow but a date will never be set for peace So we keep telling you that it only gets better And we'll think apologies fix everything Truth is we meant nothing in the first place Because we'll keep remaking mistakes that we apologize for Misery is our job Eating and breathing and surviving on the pain of lower humans Like clothed animals rampaging through a corrupt society So we'll let the people let their guard down for a quick second and us, vultures Will devour them quick in that moment To find you are empty inside, We've starved you of what you've needed Because all along, and everything we've ever done we never realized once you've all revolted this 1% would surely fall to pieces.
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Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 12:59 AM UTC
Corruption
Trip over the high density of our constant lies We're all out to break and hurt the non-elite Words and phrases they never meant a thing but to lure you in This facade of love that we send soldiers like cattle Down an assembly line to build and protect A fake America, burning towers tumbling down Bellowing the sweet sorrows of victims Whose screams we replay the audio over and over To divert you from seeing the real culprit   We are sick minded human beings with the thirst for enemies We'll kiss everyone we meet on the cheek And continue to fake what we tell you we'll be We prefer a stabbing to the back Never a full frontal attack And we have puppets We'll always find someone to replace the current like the forty four before The people's memories will fade and burn like corpses caused by the Enola Gay We''ll drop a bomb to wipe out everything mankind has worked for Because in the end we do not need peasants We have everything and everyone else has absolutely nothing And 99% will lay to waste and ruin in the ruins we leave to burn We'll pity so we can mislead to false hope Send small portions of rations to schedule feeding underlings Flouride in the drinking water to better control Corruption in the oval office classified, uncovered, never shared Always kept underwraps, never revealed just a hoax. Lips to ears do the whispers carry. A promise for a better tomorrow but a date will never be set for peace So we keep telling you that it only gets better And we'll think apologies fix everything Truth is we meant nothing in the first place Because we'll keep remaking mistakes that we apologize for Misery is our job Eating and breathing and surviving on the pain of lower humans Like clothed animals rampaging through a corrupt society So we'll let the people let their guard down for a quick second and us, vultures Will devour them quick in that moment To find you are empty inside, We've starved you of what you've needed Because all along, and everything we've ever done we never realized once you've all revolted this 1% would surely fall to pieces.
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42
i can feel spirits of tortured souls they can crawl right up my spine they won't let me let the horror go their suffering is all mine i can hear voices of murdered dreams like a ringing in my ears i ask god why i'm serving screams i ask why i'm herding fears i see fingerprints of ****** grips crimson smudges paint my wall i write down their troubled scripts every time those spirits call audio recording https://soundcloud.com/gary-loftis/spirits-of-empathys-burden if you like my poetry, like my page please facebook.com/Garyspoetrypage
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Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 7:51 PM UTC
spirits of empathy's burden - repost
We're sorry for that brief interruption Someone hacked our station for a minute We're now using some simple deduction To try to find out the perfect culprit. You hear static? Hello news viewers, audio is clear? Good, it is, time to let the show start We've seen their boring little white lies here Right in between commercials for Walmart Stay tuned for more!
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Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 4:32 PM UTC
Broadcast interruption
It is angel impact bullwhip vivid Stampede fingers landscape obedient Jail bust escape laughing run Spillway thought stream fuzzy essence UGG boot toe tubs and water stings Earthquake tyrant Celsius fools Pin lake petrol ice filled deserts Spiky flames in outer space Sculpture freak show withering exhibit Fathom emergency breathe and **** Nut shell gorillas invisibly cracked Cow fed nirvana BBC Shades of zero audio cauldron Same vein madness virus mansion Culinary horror infection procedures Geyser rich nutrient pea-pod turmoil
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Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 3:38 AM UTC
Resonance
Scuffed case. Paired and synced. Simple, easy. Simplistic beauty. Music plays. Audio flowing. Eardrums tremble. Heartbeat flowing. Time slowing. Soul escaping. Joy replacing.
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Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 2:27 AM UTC
Airpods
Gramophone records play Scratch, play, scratch, play Soft in the background, edging into me Slow and easy, gentle waves. Granny, play me La Wally again Turning, spinning, round and round Take me away on audio-pearls Peace whirls me on a magic dance. Pappa, hide the ugly monsters Keep me safe in Noddy and Pat tales I'd rather be caught in merry tune Than in webs of yonder folk out there. Momma, put on Golden Slumbers "Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry, And I will sing a lullaby" Yes, I find my way homeward... Gramps, sing me a Holliday song The kind that lifts one so high With Mammy and Pappy blessing all of me Yes my happiness, I've got me own! Dear Heaven, open windows and walls Swirling, flowing its beautiful energy Sore needed peace and beauty That no eye can truly see. Star Toucher, 02 March 2013
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Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 11:06 AM UTC
Gramophone Magic
I get edgy sometimes- When I see knots- I freeze up. I get upset when I try to untangles them- Like earphones and other audio cords- Auxiliaries, usbs and inputs. I get frustrated- Easily with entanglement- I hate knots but. Our bodies could be a knot, that I wouldn't want to untangle.
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May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 8:16 PM UTC
We could be a knot
I've been thinking about the art of speaking auditory rhythms and the like in my very personal opinion these audio utterances so often used by the population have become somewhat like pollution fogging gracelessly over the small drops of wisdom uttered in near silence if you actually listen you'll probably hear them somewhere under the blurtations of the unconsidered thoughtless thoughts they're there. If you listen the art of quiet uncovers many surprises
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Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 10:14 AM UTC
Auditory Rhythm
Chorus Watch me fly Let me fly away As the bird I take a flight away Verse 1 In the still, silence pervades No reminiscence of a past gone away You watched me talk, Then I lost all my words you waved Goodbye, sad goodbyes In the caves, the echo of my voice pollutes It’s in the when, the how all the where Verse 2 In the fields, I withered as the crops bloomed No remembrance of a past erased You heard me beg, As I lost all the will to live but die The pointed fingers on my being In  the brave, I took the shield and guarded up It’s the now, the never ending paths Bridge Parachuting from the skies The distance is to high But I trust the safety net The hailing jet I wear the sailing zest
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Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 8:32 AM UTC
Reminiscing Flight (Acoustic Lyrics with audio)
In this household there’s far too much noise!...your mobile, your pager, your palmtop, your laptop, your desktop, your land-line, your radio, your plasma screen, your mp3, your ***** driver, your GPS, your audio-books, your lawn-mower, your toothbrush, your stereo, your play-station, your VCR, your hairdryer, your podcasts, your DVD player, your digital clock, your analogue clock, your juicer, my ******** your drill...
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Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 10:11 AM UTC
Nag
The daffodils are springing In the bloom, the pollen toss The bird sway as they sing I sense your touch in my all Take a little longer ahhh Take a little time Just forget to forge The gorge you left whole The pavement I step, rolling stones Each pierce my heart, the yesterday I am not a magician neither a mystic To foretell your heart strained desires Cascading motions or emotions Anticipated notions and collusions Erosion of the past demolish solutions Fainted resolution my contradiction
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Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 6:40 AM UTC
Pollen Toss (Acoustic Lyrics with Audio)
I sit in a garden all dull and dry, here and there spring trying to push her colour's through. And then I hear and see so much more ! Life in abundance! No not the drone of the delivery truck struggle up the hill, But the hundreds of birds in song! Chirping away, here and there a butterfly goes with the wind to a new blossom. A joyous sight by far! How often do we stop and listen let alone hear? Fact is life as we know it be equal in audio to that drone of the delivery truck! Yet life should be as those birds sing in flight! How often do we smell the fragrance of the spring blossom? Look at the wonderous skyline? Or hear the joyous song birds? Happy not just a state of mind, for it be a place Oh so much so it’s a place, a time, a destination and a goal It be where we should reside When you walk into my home I want you to feel it! When you look at me my heart will show it! For happy is where my heart resides! Happy I need for me first! If those that hearts are set in unhappiness they need know it remains their choice! My Happiness is mine! no one else can steal it or navigate it! I am the captain of this ship! Oh happiness is mine! I own it’s title deed As a lush garden I aim to keep it in bloom! So who ever should visit even a fleeting moment in my life! Should know happiness be mine! ©
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Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 1:41 AM UTC
If I were a rose, my fragrance I'd choose would be life
Master builder of hanging audio of the hearts, Tapping and mapping a kind of music through the vocabulary of arts, in conducting  the harmonious sound of unique violin orchestra a crowd of fiddlesticks rima … up… and only ups… never downs. Audio Audio… I will go…true or false.   That’s what you ask for it. If you ask me to stay, I would never say no. Have you ever seen me on the occasion of disobeying you? Neither yes, nor no… Thirsty and aridity,   Words dance glamorously in the silence of the mud of bricks You will construct the magic towers of the world gust (crust). On the apex Trapper of heights you Shaking hand for all ant size human shape creatures In down. I’am member among. Time flies and melts in icy doom of the word “why”… burning agitatedly on the white eyes. Don’t look at me. Whatever had been shaped, like thunder of emotional burst digs …digs in insomnia of rapid nightmares of mine. O' liberty… Don’t be dubious of what you are going to do, Master architecture of heavenly domes of long treatise of eloquence and good sounds. Hissing….sooozzzing….biippping ….buzzzing….moooppping….murmers…. Claps and shouts. Ant shaped creatures gather under the grand dome and waiting for miraculous mesmerize. No more I am among. Master builder of raw materials in vivid shape of “new oregano (m).” Time runs and I am not “going to catch a falling star.” Time of demise. Heavy lock on mouths. Death of both of us in constructing the luxurious roads never ended in dead end of not being honest and neither being wise. Master designer of unique arches…domes…abstruse stairs… Audio…audio. I will go…for you and ours.
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Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 12:36 AM UTC
Master Builder
Master builder of hanging audio of the hearts, Tapping and mapping a kind of music through the vocabulary of arts, in conducting  the harmonious sound of unique violin orchestra a crowd of fiddlesticks rima … up… and only ups… never downs. Audio Audio… I will go…true or false.   That’s what you ask for it. If you ask me to stay, I would never say no. Have you ever seen me on the occasion of disobeying you? Neither yes, nor no… Thirsty and aridity,   Words dance glamorously in the silence of the mud of bricks You will construct the magic towers of the world gust (crust). On the apex Trapper of heights you Shaking hand for all ant size human shape creatures In down. I’am member among. Time flies and melts in icy doom of the word “why”… burning agitatedly on the white eyes. Don’t look at me. Whatever had been shaped, like thunder of emotional burst digs …digs in insomnia of rapid nightmares of mine. O' liberty… Don’t be dubious of what you are going to do, Master architecture of heavenly domes of long treatise of eloquence and good sounds. Hissing….sooozzzing….biippping ….buzzzing….moooppping….murmers…. Claps and shouts. Ant shaped creatures gather under the grand dome and waiting for miraculous mesmerize. No more I am among. Master builder of raw materials in vivid shape of “new oregano (m).” Time runs and I am not “going to catch a falling star.” Time of demise. Heavy lock on mouths. Death of both of us in constructing the luxurious roads never ended in dead end of not being honest and neither being wise. Master designer of unique arches…domes…abstruse stairs… Audio…audio. I will go…for you and ours.
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41
born in 1975 40 odd beat   song now old enough to buy a cold drink cold drink We're hitting funk levels that shouldn't even be possible. recommended algorithm algorithm recommended for your ears only We're hitting funk levels that shouldn't even be possible. come band funk funkier, summon Brown back from the dead. Fibonacci's rabbit on steroids what’s your count Feel this beat Fibonacci's rabbit on steroids 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, seek me the vodoooo advice quick turn to  23/16 (3+3+3+3+3+3+3+2) probably overhearing overhearing what is truly not there  it's my juju baby over the speed limit sound so slow 150 BPM we’ve gone over the speed limit billion BPM and a beat direct line to NASA monitored funk levels from outer space audio crackcocaine legal be it \ this speed deep beat band come come come now funkier, Brown sermons back from the dead. James loves   brown brow tall dark seregeti beat Mandingo beat Khoudia Diop Repeats If they got any funkier, they'd summon James Brown back from the dead Fibonacci's rabbit on steroids what’s your count Feel this beat Fibonacci's rabbit on steroids 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, Warning: Do not turn the speed up to two. YOU WILL BE OUT FUNKED. double WITCHED If speed is increased, wash eyes Khoudia Diop Repeats wash your eyes ice cold water speed of sound quicken your pace release your soul seek me the vodoooo advice. levels of funkiness been theoretized never imagined achieved born in 1975 Dumisaning 40 odd years ago. song now old enough to buy a cold drink. drink seek me thee vodoooo advice. I have beaten about this beat before.
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Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 11:22 AM UTC
YOU WILL BE OUT FUNKED - seek me the vodoooo advice
born in 1975 40 odd beat   song now old enough to buy a cold drink cold drink We're hitting funk levels that shouldn't even be possible. recommended algorithm algorithm recommended for your ears only We're hitting funk levels that shouldn't even be possible. come band funk funkier, summon Brown back from the dead. Fibonacci's rabbit on steroids what’s your count Feel this beat Fibonacci's rabbit on steroids 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, seek me the vodoooo advice quick turn to  23/16 (3+3+3+3+3+3+3+2) probably overhearing overhearing what is truly not there  it's my juju baby over the speed limit sound so slow 150 BPM we’ve gone over the speed limit billion BPM and a beat direct line to NASA monitored funk levels from outer space audio crackcocaine legal be it \ this speed deep beat band come come come now funkier, Brown sermons back from the dead. James loves   brown brow tall dark seregeti beat Mandingo beat Khoudia Diop Repeats If they got any funkier, they'd summon James Brown back from the dead Fibonacci's rabbit on steroids what’s your count Feel this beat Fibonacci's rabbit on steroids 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, Warning: Do not turn the speed up to two. YOU WILL BE OUT FUNKED. double WITCHED If speed is increased, wash eyes Khoudia Diop Repeats wash your eyes ice cold water speed of sound quicken your pace release your soul seek me the vodoooo advice. levels of funkiness been theoretized never imagined achieved born in 1975 Dumisaning 40 odd years ago. song now old enough to buy a cold drink. drink seek me thee vodoooo advice. I have beaten about this beat before.
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89
Verse Ever cruising , in the base ship Now finding my feet on the ground Muddy pathways , Pebbled alleyways, River coursing eastwards Chorus Give me the revelation That I need to elevate Give me the calibration That I need to stimulate All aligning, all aligning Verse We are divided, in the realities Now finding sensate zones Hearts entwining Minds compassing Many flowing for the cause Bridge And they shall walk on the land Their feet will sink in the pads They will smile and trance Fight then unite, Recite in their might All attuned, all aligned
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Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 6:09 AM UTC
Calibration (Lyrics Mix with Audio)
And when you read Don't rush - Theres no need to read with undue speed. And when you read Start with a suckle - Work up to a nibble - Until you can gnaw without a dribble. I encourage you Get down to the marrow Like there's no tomorrow. Savour each word As food for your soul And live as a model As to how to live whole. And when you read Apply your mind daily, Apply each word liberally (especially to those out of the way hard to reach places). And when you read - Study Sometimes with a buddy But - study. This is no hobby, You can't afford to get sloppy. It's as crucial for the soul As five a day for the body - So study. And when you read Treat each word Like a tutor; It can teach you How to live shrewder. And when you read Sustain it like a seed, Ensure you pay heed Cos it will never mislead. And when you read Do it to a plan, Always with intent And be sure To finish as you began. And when you read Commit to it daily, Commit it to memory To avoid thinking lazily. And when you read Do it while a commuter Do it on a computer Do it with a kindle Do it with audio Do it with a paperback Do it with a hard back Do it from front to back. However you develop the knack Don't let yourself slack; This Word is no throw back, It will keep you on track. So just read.
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Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 1:12 PM UTC
And when you read