I try to put the words together
make em eb an flow...
the waves were crashing all around
and began to rock the boat..
it crashed and left him stranded
and enveloped in the swoll..
hes fighting for the surface but he's
being pulled below...
deep down in to the recess of his
dark an dreary mind...
hes surrounded by the thoughts
and feelings of every single kind...
now unsure to where to go from
here its all become to much...
whats real or fake or in between he's
got no reality to clutch...
but now hes scratched the surface
and the disk begins to skip...
hes starting to let go a little push and
then he slips...
he finds himself together
he's perfectly in tact...
now hes got the power harnessed
no way he can look back...
His goal becomes destruction
he begins to look around...
He sees the lies that torture him,
his target he has found....
the source of all this pain and hurt
your deceptions were so good...
How you always faked the smile
he's never understood....
In his mind he begins erasing never saving
what was bad...
Now anything he didn’t want its if he's
never seen or had...
The good did come but came and
went just lost along the way...
Now he sat up and smiled
for he had come upon today....
Just up on the horizon the sun had begun to rise...
the light began to take him
he tightly closed his eyes...
He awoke to find himself alone
just lying on the shore...
He breathed in deep to his relief
he had been there before...
This beach he had imagined every night
he lay in bed....
This place was his escape from all thoughts
inside his head...
The water washed up on his feet
it began to come and go...
The waves they crashed just like the words
that so did eb and flow
-JT

Eb and Flow

See my rhythms and poems
Have no motion no flow

Sometimes they Eb
But even that happens real slow

The motion is there
I Just don’t wanna let it go

If I add it you’d know
That I cared to grow

And learn, discern
I won’t say anymore

Except for this

I took a piece of bliss
Put it in my back pocket
Sat down and smashed it
Took it out then I dropped it

My language saw me
Decided I should stop it
So I brushed it off
Told everyone that I lost it

Truth is that I crossed it
Didn’t earn the ability
Says who? Says Me.
So I took and I tossed it

Whats left
I don’t know
No language

Sometime I Eb

But even that happens slow

Eb pulls back, he holds his peace
he's done with Flo, he's wined the beast
and as it's said, 'don't tread where sands are shifting'
ebb and flow, they come and go
ebb draws us out, the tides are low,
but as we yearn, return, and stop our drifting.

i stand on rock, alone at last
and mourn for what is done and past
but still, with broken heart, recall the surges;
the times when you were out at sea
and when you finally wrote to me
I laugh at how you satisfied my urges.

The words we shout from distant shore
the ones which fall on heavy oar
which make the trip back home far less than pleasing;
far better are the words on wing
which land with olive branch and sing
a song of love which keeps the flow from freezing.

but even in the closest knit
where scarcely will the piece not fit
there's comes a rhythm known as ebb and flow.
and marriage is a special bond
and Eb and Flo they looked beyond
and understood the way it had to go.

and through the laughter and the tears
and late night dances, sharing beers
they always knew the highs would lead to low.
and now Flo waits on lonesome shore
for time apart was forced before
as time would have it, 'twas Eb's time to go.

Eb pulls back, he holds his peace
he's done with Flo, he's wined the beast
and as it's said, 'don't tread where sands are shifting
ebb and flow, they come and go
ebb draws us out, the tides are low,
but as we yearn, return and stop our drifting.

I stand on rock, alone at last
and mourn for what is done and past
but still, with broken heart, recall the surges
the times when you were out at sea
and when you finally wrote to me
I laugh at how you satisfied my urges.

The words we shout from distant shore
the ones which fall on heavy oar
which make the trip back home far less than pleasing
far better are the words on wing
which land with olive branch and sing
a song of love which keeps the flow from freezing.

but even in the closest knit
where scarcely will the piece not fit
there's comes a rhythm known as ebb and flow.
and marriage is a special bond
and Eb and Flo they looked beyond
and understood the way it had to go.

and through the laughter and the tears
and late night dances, sharing beers
they always knew the highs would lead to low.
and now Flo waits on lonesome shore
for time apart was forced before
as time would have it, 'twas Eb's time to go.

The wicked never rest
Tset eht ssap yeht fi
For they scream this night
Thgis morf edih yeht dna
They come to close your eyes
Seirc rieht era esruc a
They come for you, be assured
Drawer ruoy eb llahs htaed rof
The wicked will come at last
Tsac eb lliw lleps rieht dna
You can not run if you try
Eid si od won nac uoy lla

Eb pulls back, he holds his peace
he's done with Flo, he's wined the beast
and as it's said, 'don't tread where sands are shifting'
ebb and flow, they come and go
ebb draws us out, the tides are low,
but as we yearn, return, and stop our drifting.

i stand on rock, alone at last
and mourn for what is done and past
but still, with broken heart, recall the surges;
the times when you were out at sea
and when you finally wrote to me
I laugh at how you satisfied my urges.

The words we shout from distant shore
the ones which fall on heavy oar
which make the trip back home far less than pleasing;
far better are the words on wing
which land with olive branch and sing
a song of love which keeps the flow from freezing.

but even in the closest knit
where scarcely will the piece not fit
there's comes a rhythm known as ebb and flow.
and marriage is a special bond
and Eb and Flo they looked beyond
and understood the way it had to go.

and through the laughter and the tears
and late night dances, sharing beers
they always knew the highs would lead to low.
and now Flo waits on lonesome shore
for time apart was forced before
as time would have it, 'twas Eb's time to go.

I wanted to change
But not for good
I wanted to be smarter
Don't know if I could
I wanted all the power
There's none that agreed
Every moment every hour, you're all I see
I wanted you to be there through the days I need you most
I wanted you to hold my hand, I rage, I scream, I boast
I wanted them to fade away so I'm all who you see.
I wish that I was made for you, cause you were made for me.

they said they did it for efficiency's sake.
birthed machine after machine,
just to increase the rate
                                  per
                                 time.
no god-given talent or skill,
can defeat this adaptive assembly line.

no man-     P
no fire-         O
no brain-       W
no super-     E
no will-      R

it's flawless at first glance, and maybe even second.
simply perfect to the naked eye; even the telescoped, i reckon.
but under a microscope, it becomes simple to see,
this single-purposed way of life isn't human; how can it be?

just like control + C, control + V,

i believe they've synchronized simplicity.
  believe they've synchronized simplicity.
                they've synchronized simplicity.
                              synchronized simplicity.
                                                     ­  simplicity.
                                                     ­                   .
                                                                ­        .yticilpmis
                                             ­                           .yticilpmis dezinorhcnys
                                                    ­                    .yticilpmis dezinorhcnys ev'yeht
                                                         ­               .yticilpmis dezinorhcnys ev'yeht eveileb
                                                         ­               .yticilpmis dezinorhcnys ev'yeht eveileb i

                                                              ­                         ,V + lortnoc ,C + lortnoc ekil tsuj

                                        ?eb ti nac woh ;namuh t’nsi efil fo yaw desoprup-elgnis siht
                                                          ,e­es ot elpmis semoceb ti .epocsorcim a rednu tub
                                    .nokcer i ,depocselet eht neve ;eye dekan eht ot tcefrep ylpmis
                                                       .dnoces neve ebyam dna ,ecnalg tsrif ta sselwalf s’ti

                                                           ­                                                                R      -lliw on
                                                              ­                                                           E     -repus on
                                                              ­                                                        W       -niarb on
                                                              ­                                                          O      ­   -erif on
                                                              ­                                                             P     -nam on

                                                             ­                .enil ylbmessa evitpada siht taefed nac
                                                             ­                                   ,lliks ro tnelat nevig-dog on
                                                              ­                                        .emit                    ­                  
                                              ­                                                          rep    ­                              
                                  ­                                                                 ­     etar eht esaercni ot tsuj
                                                            ­                              ,enihcam retfa enihcam dehtrib
                                                         ­                .ekas s’ycneiciffe rof ti did yeht dias yeht

And the seeds,
you remember don't you?
They are embedded in the fleshy pulp.

With my index finger
I follow
every fragrant glimpse.

Such intense
and flavorful
memory trails to wonder.

Carum carvi
and Jalapeño sauce
straight from a
hot No.10 skillet.
Blood Orange slices
have not ever tasted
quite like that.
Gardenia blossoms,
they’re not poisonous
are they?

Pause.

Despite the map we charted
I find myself so easily lost
amidst a transcendent,
pervasive flora,

fascinated and breathless.

Really,
makes no difference
if or even where
we placed that letter X.

To the summit we go amidst the wild night's storm
An avalanche is summoned where the elder stars grew
Visions of hope amongst the mighty hailstorm
I barely recall now a morning's peaceful dew

An avalanche is summoned where the elder stars grew
Our perilous journey to the dragon's gold nest
I barely recall now a morning's peaceful dew
Valorous are the ones who dared to sail northwest

Our perilous journey to the dragon's gold nest
The Gods have abandoned us, no sign of omen
Valorous are the ones who dared to sail northwest
We're determined to get back the jewels were stolen

The Gods have abandoned us, no sign of omen
With fearless hearts we reach the portals of chaos
We're determined to get back the jewels were stolen
That beast will be slayed by our axes blind pathos

With fearless hearts we reach the portals of chaos
Soon we're going to meet the thief and his firestorm
That beast will be slayed by our axes blind pathos
To the summit we go amidst the wild night's storm

how hollow are the bones in me
that call to sea when i am out to sleep
what simple steady breath that swells
inside my chest and overwhelms
a faint pain resides in my mind
the eb and flow of a stronger tide
and though tempest turns to storm
the love i lost was never scorned

Standing ankle deep
on the bluff,
river roaring
something vicious
down below.
Standing knee deep
on the plateau,
there she is again,
the dog
and her bone.

How much of this did you say?
How many times more?
How many times not?

Just give me
the pick ax.
Grab a core sample
if you like.
This will take
some time
and
some thyme
and
some time.

flat yet hollow
open resonance abounds
fingers find sorrow
wherever they land
music speaks of tomorrow
of past abandoned
left behind
gone solo
weeping tears of the mind
single coil motto
muted yet defined
roll off tone
roll on echo
discordance hard to find

I started playing guitar when I was 14.
I didn't take it very seriously until I was almost 17.
That's when I made time for at least an hour of guitar a day.
Now, six years later, I literally play about eight hours a day when I can.

My exposure to playing music before guitar was the Piano, but I rebelled when it became forced. That's just how I roll. I'm grateful for that musical icebreaker, though. I want to get back into playing keys. For now, I'm focusing on making the guitar into even more of a playground.

I use a 150-watt Ibanez Tone-Blaster head on a 4x12 cab. It's on the clean channel with the levels at 5 and the Overdrive on, with a gain of about 4. The hue is cranked, though. Gotta love that brightness.

I have a Boss ME-70 multi-effect pedal.
I must say, those types of things are great for sampling different sounds, or having watered-down versions of lots effects available at any time. But, if you find one tone you really like, you're best off buying or building the individual pedals to provide you with a higher quality version of your preferred tone.

Anyway, I have the hall reverb at about 5, and some 'classic' overdrive set to 5 for level, tone, and gain. That's all I need. I sparingly use light chorus or uni-v, or maybe a wah for certain parts. I believe simplicity is best in terms of effects.
Although, tasteful delay makes an alright solo into a ****-dampening solo.

I have many axes:
1 nylon 6-string
1 acoustic 6-string
2 Washburn electric-acoustics; a 6 string and a 12 string
2 B.C. Riches (Beast, Stealth)
an LTD KH-602 Superstrat
an Ibanez 'Artcore' series semi-hollow electric Jazz guitar
then, I also have a Roland Ax-Synth keytar.

In my opinion, guitars sound better tuned down.
So, naturally, I tried out drop-D, which was cool.
Then, I wanted all the strings to be lower, so I tried Eb-Standard.
I liked that. There was more body to the sound.

Of course, I tried playing in a drop-style tuning from there and discovered Drop-C#. This tuning stole my heart for a while. That is..
..until the voluptuous redhead D-Standard came along,
arms linked with her **** black-haired sister: Drop-C.

Tuned a step down, bends and vibrato are much more wild beasts.
However, this lower tension will trash your harmonics and stuff,
so I play 10-52 strings: 10, 13, 17, 30, 42, 52. Typically called 'LTHB,' or Light-Top Heavy-Bottom. This helps to keep the tension more similar to as if it were strung with normal strings in standard tuning. That translates into more overtones, which, in turn, means better tone.
More overtones means more pinch harmonics, too. Aww, yeah!

I need to get my hands on a decent electric baritone.
Maybe I'll just make one.

Oh, and another thing:
I just got some brass nuts. ;)

My vingers jeuk om iets te skryf
My hart bloei storms
Maar my vingers jeuk
My gemoed eb en vloei
Maar my vingers jeuk om iets te skryf
My siel hammer verwoed teen my ribbekas
En my vingers jeuk om te skryf

My pen hunker om te vloek
Die swart ink wil die wit vel breek en skree
My polse wil huil
My longe wil verteer
En my nek wil omhels word met n tou
Maar my vingers jeuk om te skryf

Ék kan nie díe jeuk krap nie.
Dít klou aan mý wese
En dít krap mý verstand
En ek bloei waansin
En ek wil skree vir die maan
En ek wil vloek tenoor die son.

My vingers jeuk on te skryf
En ek gee in tot die demoon
Wat honger na n stem.

Iewers sal my woorde weer
N lee papier vind...
En dan kan ek sy lastergille tem.

I never really understood
Slam poetry
There was a man, a mic, and a spot light
There were words put on paper and words said
There was an eb and flow and there was this rhythm
Everyone seemed to speak the same
Getting faster getting slower
Getting higher getting lower
And there were profound words whispered over coffee cups
Obscuring the chocolate drizzled over latte’s foam
It seemed odd and foreign
Until I became a slam poet
After all I think it’s how they say
You never know a man until you walk a mile in his shoes
But it’s because I used to look at those words they said and
Over analyzed them
Over scrutinized them
I filed them
Color coded them
Cross reference and proof read them
1+1 had to equal 2 but with slam
It equaled like eight
And I could double check again and again
I couldn’t get 1+1 to equal two

But it was because at that time I was a straight A student
Reading seven books at one time
And doing thinks like science fair projects for fun
Because I had realize,
even without knowing I had
That if I was up to the rims of my glasses with books and papers
I couldn’t see my life around me
I paid less attention to the dishes I had to clean if I had equations running through my mind
I never saw how much dad drank if I was reading and writing
I took all those gold stars and straight A’s and plastered them over the cracks in my life
I joined everything I could
I did choir
I did drama
I was the editor of the year book
I did extra credit and went overboard on home work
I made my projects with blood, sweat, and tears
And my academics were my life...
But soon the time came that I got a B

And it didn’t fit quite as cleanly over the hole in my roof I used it to patch
And I didn’t shine bright enough to block out the darkness
And I began to see
A simple column of letters
Two letters
6 A’s and one B
If put it under a microscope it would be made out of the same black ink spatter on pulverized and pressed trees
It would still bleed the same if I dripped water on it
But it was different
Darker it seemed
And at night it didn’t lull me to sleep as well as
An A
It was only 80%
Not my usual hundred and with
less zeroes it couldn’t block out the
sound of my surroundings as well an A could
I couldn’t wrap myself in it and hide
I couldn’t click my heals and have it take me to a happy place
No
It was a B

And I plastered my report cards over my cracked old windows
But there was now a hole where my B would have been

Light leaked in through there
Light that shown on my house
Casting a shadow down on the floor
And the gold star and sticker coated family looked fine standing before me
But the shadow silhouettes were of scary people
Hurt people

And I never saw it all along because a smiley face with bright purple letters saying thing like
“GOOD JOB!”
“GREAT WORK!”
“EXELLENCE!”
Had been neatly peeled from perfect tests
And as gently as it was lifted it was placed onto my family’s faces
The stickers stuck because of their tears
The tears that no longer existed
once hidden by a sticker
I then began to see that the light from outside could show me the world
I then went and stripped my wall and windows
Of reports cards, essays, and projects
I shut off my computer with power points of greatness
Flipping slide
after slide
    after slide

I then opened my windows let air and light flood into my room
And it showed me things
Beautiful things

But then the light flooded into the rest of my house
The breeze became a draft and invaded the rooms
Illuminating the ugliness and hurt

And I tried to shut that window
I tried to glue back up the papers
I tried to sow back together ripped up gold stars

But I was not fast enough
Me
like Pandora
tried closing that box again

What was done…
Was done

It was too late
I saw it all, if only briefly
And now that room full of academic tokens of my achievement
Seemed darker
Even with the windows open
It was darker
Light shown in
A dusky twilight
At noon
And my heart beat faster
My breath quickened
My scream scratched at my throat
Trying to get out but not finding a foot hold
It just clawed and kicked
And on an intake of breath that scream lost its hold
And fell back down my throat
Landing in the pit of my stomach

I then walked out of my room and into my house and looked at my family
I saw the ugly stickers on their face
And peeled them off
Without care and in a haste
I was frantic
And desperate
And afraid
Under those paper adhesive masks
I didn’t recognize the faces
And now I was in a house full of family I had never gotten to know and I was afraid
Not like a scary movie
Not like a dark basement
More like being on a stranded island
Watching a cell phone with service
Get carried away by a seagull

I then looked to see the panic mirrored
In my “families” faces and didn’t find it

I then walked back to my room
And cried myself to sleep
In the dusky twilight
At noon

And when I awoke I found a composition notebook
And a pencil…

river
take
open
ocean

pool
dark

forest
dark

breath
haint

face­
cliff
fur
scratch
blanket

sun
drip
prism
dry
facet

leaf
off
ha­ng
chill

bud
sweat

bell
resin

I’m going to nap until it’s morning there
then send you a dream song
for yoga practice
or tai chi
or just lying still
listening while breathing.

Breathing these breaths.

Or are you here and this dusk is also upon you?

How often are poems written for you?
How often are thoughts given to you?
How often is time evaded with you?

I accidentally recorded four hours and fifty-nine minutes
of southern summer insect sounds
the other night.
Good thing it didn’t rain.
That time that it did
on the canyon’s edge
crouched under blooming rhododendron
you knew then didn’t you?

I’ve always liked the sound
of the word canyon
gorge even more so.

What sounds are you hearing now?

You should send a photo
of where you are.
I mean the place.

I see you clearly
however awkward
without falter.
Thank you.

Mostly, it sickens me that
our notes sent back and forth are
measurably more pleasant than conversation
We share in person.

I bet that paper lotus is gone.

Interchanged sentence fragments
both homeopathic and calculated by lamplight.

I bet that bookmark is still in the same place.

Even comparing you to Ivan would be a stretch,
Who are we kidding.
Dmitri.
But that’s still not the name I call you ante meridiem.

I bet Freud was right, but I never called myself a boy.  

A . Eb.  Six steps.  
Slonimsky dedicated so many pages to you.

I guess I will distill the Ocean
for salt.    

I can’t say any of this to you,
the most honest I’ll ever be
is in a poem I hope you’ll never read.

New guitar-only instrumental song:

https://soundcloud.com/apexparadigm/dream

The "A" sections are 4/4, with a progression of:
| : Cm---Ab---Gb---Eb-Db-Cm---Ab---F---G--Db : |, or
| : i VI bV III bII i VI iv v bII : | (as I like to think of it)
The "B" sections are a measure of 15/8 alternating with a measure of 7/4.
The guitars play either 5 3s or 3 5s for the 15, and then a groove in 7/4 in between.
The guitars trade off which is playing the 3s and 5s.
Harmonically, the compound time section is just a static Cm.

Written in a few moments, and then recorded in the course of half an hour as a sketch.
The title is somewhat arbitrary, but I do have my reasons.
Enjoy!

Questions and comments welcome.

Calm I'm not on any day
Formed by forces beyond my control

You fear me without knowing me
I'm really just transparency

Plunge your hand into my belly
Feel how easy I give way

My life is one big rise and fall
The wrinkles and foam I produce

Mighty is my capacity to drench
Administering liquid in great degrees

Sand and rock are my enemy
They dare to stand in my way

In the end, it's my nature I adore
The constant eb and flow

been awhile
just wanted to let somebody know
that being is doing fine
being has never felt more complete
but yet it is still incomplete

out on these tiles
finding remnants of the true nature within
where are all of the friends
so we can commence the feast
it isn't proper until everyone has arrived
and nothing will settle for less

No need to digress.
Where was the train of thought last?
Funny.
The reflection of past is foggy from the steam

jet propulsion-
scorching-
water evaporation-

writing words in the mirror to pass time
even though all the time that was had
has been burned

when will being learn?


...i tsum og ffo.. ot eht wotrednu fo eht evaw.. sgniht lliw eb rethgirb.. taht i wonk os ll'i evom no...

Friends and
Family
Will betray you
Some day
But it may
Take Months
Years
To figure it out
How are we
To respond
With love
Compassion
Or hate
Forgive
Never
Forget