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Big Virge Oct 2020
So Is It... " Your Dream "...
To Become MAINSTREAM... ?!?

I CANNOT Lie...
Sometimes My Mind...
Has Been Inclined...
To Visualise A Time Where I...

Could Be... " THAT GUY "... !?!

That People LOVED...
Like... “ WARM Sunshine “... !!!

But Recognised That DARKNESS Rides...
With Getting A Slice of The DEVILS' Pie... !!!!

Because MANY It Seems...
Now Seem To BELIEVE...

That ILLUMINATED Teams....
Run MAINSTREAM Scenes...

“ Know what I mean !?! “ …

So If That’s.... “ True “... ???
Mainstreamers Move...
With... “ SHADY Dudes “...
And Females TOO... !!!!!!!

“ Mainstream for two ? “

“ Nah dude, just you !
I think I’ll cool, and do my do,
for the heads who choose,
to listen to men who deal in sense,
instead of those who present,
big hype and pretence,
for dollars and cents
from, Corporate Heads “

You Can See It In Sports...
I’ve Competed With Guys...
Who’ve Received AWARDS... !!!

Been In NATIONAL Sides... !!!
And Watched And Thought...

“How are they mainstream,
when they’re clearly weak,
and aren’t better than me !?!“

But Then WAKE UP...
From My Daydreams... !!!!!

But... RECOGNISE...
That To Join The TOP FLIGHT...

Some Athletes Find....
That They Have To Compromise...
  
But That’s Alright...
The MAINSTREAM Can Bring STRESS...
And CAN... DEPRESS... !!!!!

Some Mainstream Heads....
Have Met With DEATH...
Because of Their DESIRE...
For The Mainstream To...
......... “ HIRE “.........

Their EGOS For SHOW...
And YES... BRAVADO... !!!

Because They LOVED Being KNOWN...
Wherever They’d Go... !!!

Mainstream For Me... NO... !!!

But I Want Some DOUGH... !!!
From Their Pots of Gold...

Cos' TOO MANY **’s... !!!
Have Got The HIGH Roll...
For... SELLING THEIR SOUL... !!!!!

It’s Time For TRUTH SAYERS...
To Get... MAINSTREAM Paper... !!!

And Start To Turn Heads...
In Their RIGHTEOUS Benz’... !!!!!

Cos’ NO Rubbing Shoulders...
Or BENDING Like Folders... !!!!!

Because WE ARE Soldiers...
Whose Wordplay Is BOLDER... !!!!!
Than... Twerking For JERKS... !!!
Cos' We ***** Their Shirts...
With Our Written Works... !!!!!

And When We... “ PERFORM “...
We’re... BEYOND The Norm... !!!

We ARE Something MORE... !!!!!!!!
Than MAINSTREAM TYPE ******...

So Let Me Make CLEAR...
MAINSTREAMERS Adhere...
To... "CERTAIN RESTRICTIONS"...

To Get Their POSITION...
In The MASSES VISION... !!!!!
But Like... “ Q-Tip said “...

“I ain’t messing with them
til’ I cop a deal,
that gives me exposure,
and spotlight to steal !“

So That I CAN EAT... !!!
BEYOND Where They Be... !!!

Because NOW The Streets...
Would... RECOGNISE Me... !!!!!

“ Big Virge In CONVERTS ? “

“Maybe a... Bentley !?! “

See THAT’s How Worms Turn... !!!
LUSTING... “ LUXURIES “...
LEADING To GREED... !!!!!!
And EGO FILLED Deeds..... !!!!!
To Get... BIG MONEY...
And FORSAKE Artistry... !!!!!

I Just Want A Piece...
To Live... Comfortably...

And Write What I See...
Debt FREE... HAPPILY... !!!!!

A Couple of MILL’...
Should Do Me NICELY... !!!

Then I Could Just Chill...
And Build... LEGACIES...
of... Poetic ART....
That Touched MANY HEARTS...
From NEAR To AFAR..........................

Because I STAYED SHARP... !!!
And Just Took A Small Part...

So That I Could SEE...
A Part of The Scene...

That Is DEEMED As...

... “ Mainstream “...
It all looks great, however, one has to wonder just how great it REALLY IS ... ???
Ston Poet Dec 2015
No they can't stop god,  naw they can't stop Jah...2

  Living in a world full of fake ,Im tryna go my own path but they want me to be the same, its  like the opposition out to get me, scared ..naw its only fear in the heavenly, only one that can save me is JC, Im tryna live my dreams  but it seems  that we living in the matrix mane..like you have to sell out to get ya stage,  Im so  tried of the fake, Im so tired of being trapped in this maze( this world) is fading and ****** too blind to wake,Uhh.. I woke up & cut my string/ Cuz Im  a leader ment to be , a ***** that believe in a higher power that's over me , & I  praise him and pray ..These trials I go through just strengthens my faith , I won't be at the bottom for too long mane..I'm just tryna reach out to the people before its to late,  you can be your own mane or follow everybody else its up to you to live free ,**** ,imma do me despite what a hater have to say , they just jealous, they just wanna be me, they just mad cuz I want better homie /they need to stop being so afraid to speak the real mane, better then being a slave for a corporation that don't care if you go to the grave , All of these mainstream rappers sounding the same , wearing dresses and nail polish like a ******, ****** is gay tryna confuse ya mind mane/  but I'm here to speak the  real like Pac before the grave..Yeah I'm  looking for changes , I know my goals can't be reached in one day , I know I have to work hard to achieve, **** a  handout I take what I want mane, ayye..

( I'm so tried , I'm so tried, I'm so sick)
Of all these fakes /my ***** **** mainstream/ I'm too real to sign my life away /Mom I  just need you to pray as I walk in this evil world everyday..I will have no fear in the beast.. I will always remain true to the streets..(Yeah ***** fucc mainstream..fucc it..
2)

Uhh like my ***** Wiz said..The money come, The money go..Imma always stay the same dawg..I'm never gonna be a **..Imma stay on my feet like a magnolia soulja..with my family right beside me too..You fucc ****** keep playing around.. You might just get hit...Uhh..It might be a gun ***** or it might be a fist..Uhh..But I ain't   seen nothing..& I'm not telling ****..Like a real ***** always do.. Imma just mind my business dude... & Instead of stressing  about a fucc ***** opinion my dude,You just gotta  do you..My ***** just do you...& have faith..

( I'm so tried , I'm so tried, I'm so sick)
Of all these fakes /my ***** **** mainstream/ I'm too real to sign my life away /Mom I  just need you to pray as I walk in this evil world everyday..I will have no fear in the beast.. I will always remain true to the streets..my (***** fucc mainstream..fucc it..*2)

Yeah you just gotta keep having faith..Let a fucc ***** hate..Of course the pain  is gonna come..Its written.. My ***** you gotta be strong & go through it..Yeah cuz after the storm..Its a *** of gold underneath the rainbow..Yeah you just gotta go hard..My ***** you just gotta have faith..Uhh..Imma real *** young *****..no, I never been perfect.. Of course I ****** up many times..Im growing up fast..& I just want better..But its like the system is made to keep us trapped in the ghetto..Im giving all of my ****** some real power..This is my ghetto gospel *****..Rest in Peace to all of my real ******..Uhh..I'm the real Makaveli.. I told y'all ****** I was coming back..Uhh..Yeah my  *****, **** all these wack *** rappers thats selling out..I'm rapping for the real that's it..These ****** keep claiming they so real..but not like my Outlaws..We stay smoking ****..I'm elevated from my  flesh..So I do what I want..**** the money mane..I do this for the people..That's stuck..I do this for my  ****** in them jail cells..& for the young ****** that's dying on the street young..Uhh
stonpoet.tumblr.com
Sam Temple Jun 2015
you think I don’t live
hip hop
in my drop top
boy, I’ll slap a cop
for messin wit my
organic crop
I got’s hogs to slop
fruit is starting to drop
rabbits ears are lopped
still, I got time to rock
see I
write rhymes all the time
mostly in my mind
helps me to unwind
when I smoke the kind
like a real balla
dog don’t need a
shock colla
he listens when I holla
I like to gives the bums a dolla
that **** makes me feel bangin
while my ******* swangin
Am I entertaining? –

Cause I‘ll never be mainstream
never learned to silk screen
5th wheel, Slipstream
Pajamas on, a *******
I’ll never be mainstream –

See I
don’t own a gun
shoot my mouth off
just for fun
never eat a wheat bun
not a celiac,
just don’t want none
****’s come undone
solar flare
from the sun
life weighin like a ton
smashed flat on the ground, son
but I
get back up ya’ll
no time to fall
harvest in the Fall
watch the water-fall
like the politicians ya’ll –

I will never be mainstream
wont listen to yo kids scream
buy those ******* ice cream
all up in the sun beam
I’m never bein mainstream –

Ya’ll, I cant wait to own
acreage and a home
space for my dogs to roam
hide those muthafukka’s bones
or maybe I will buy a cow
work with a horse and plow
homeboy’s, the time is now
gotta get a loan somehow
so I pay off all my back debt
save some cash for
a down pay-ment
so I don’t got’s to pay no rent
life will be so different --

and I will never be mainstream
create power with my own stream
use my cow to get milk and cream
this **** isn’t just a dream
boy, I will never be mainstream --
Jowlough Nov 2012
The moment I write something
and it is mainstream,
so I stood and stop,
because it's mainstream

Don't read me with wordplays
because it's too mainstream;
I just played some words,
and boom, it's mainstream

**** me with your pen
your words are mainstream,
please be deeper,
don't go mainstream

Some point in your life,
you are mainstream,
dying for attention,
when you've lost inside your mainstream
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
.  i really don't islam right now, as far as current archeological unearthing goes, circa mid 20th century, islam should look back onto its schism - and debate itself... whether or not Ali was, or wasn't given Muhammad's word as the just inheritor of the religion... since Muhammad broke, or rather, never kept his honor / promise to his son in law... mind you: the new testament could only have, and indeed did, only benefit the Byzantines (i love the variant of punctuation... bi-zan-tyne vs. bee-zan-teen)... and who do we know of, to be a respectable of both history, and the collective memory, from the Byzantine empire? not one... even by my standards: that's ******* harsh... the new testament was like a second Trojan war, against Virgil's aeneid... because why would the new testament even become beneficial to the western Empire? had it not disintegrated into protestantism, and subsequently secularism... the existence of the new testament has a time, and a space of supreme utility... the second counter of the Greeks against the Trojans... in the mythology of the Romans being the exiled Trojans... and, at its pinnacle, within the Byzantine empire... of course... but outside of it? like a **** inside a tornado... now if i were to rewrite the divine comedy... who would i take as accomplice? Horace? or Milton?

             if you ever read the footnotes...

  oh no, ******, you're not getting

away with this...

why is the mainstream media
concerned with the dead sea scrolls?

they're an extension of
the Hebrew tradition -
   they invite a debate concerning
the prophet Isaiah...

   the dead sea scrolls are an extension
of the old testament...

but the nag hammadi library -
which, "miraculously" emerged
within a coincidence of the
dead sea scrolls: simultaneously -
at the end of the second world...

right...
     the nag hammadi library is
no an extension of the new testament:
it's an... implosion...

     crucially: st. thomas' gospel...
which is contained in the library's oeuvre...
yet the mainstream media
thinks it's necessary to bother itself
commenting on the dead sea scrolls:
if you ain't a Hebrew,
the dead sea scrolls are,
seriously of no interest to you...

but the nag hammadi library?
    sure as **** it is...
              the whole investment in
myth, the Seth project -
              st. peter's apocrypha...
mainstream can go and **** itself
wondering why,
the dead sea scrolls were not
released for the public for 30 odd years...
mention the nag hammadi
library, and the ******* are twice
as clueless...

then you read the footnotes...
ah...
           the historical account
of josephus bin matthias -
   about the first jewish-roman war...
in the time of Nero...
      when the book of revelations
was written... as no precursor -
               by some obscure Greek...

as having inherited Christianity -
but not having moved in
the bureaucratic hierarchy -
   allowing myself
    the rite of confirmation:
baptism?
     oh yeah... ga ga goo doll
chant of a protesting toddler -

                there's this fine book,
by a german author,
concerning the gnostic cults...
can't remember the author's name...

evidently if i were hebrew -
i'd occupy myself with the dead sea scrolls...
but since i inherited some sort
of christianity:
                  i can tell you -
you need to look at the nag hammadi
library...
     concerning christianity -
the dead sea scroll fascination
   is probably on par with
the rejection of the old testament...
what the mainstream media
isn't telling you,
   is concerning the nag hammadi
library... unearthed in Egypt,
by some shepherd,
      incubated for, circa, 2000 years,
in some urns,
   in what appears
            to be Osama bin-Laden
                                  style caves...

what josephus bin matthias
wrote... and this archeological find?

thereupon felix -
               'a greater blow...
   was inflicted on the Jews by the Egyptian
false prophet. arriving in the country
this man, a fraud who posed as a seer,
collected about 30,000 dupes,
led them round from the desert (john
the baptist scenario) to the mount of olives
(the transfiguration scene),
and from there was ready to force an
entry into Jerusalem...
   the Egyptian fled with a handful of
men (the 12 disciples)'...

   because wasn't Jesus raised in
Egypt?
              and the archeological evidence...
where was the Christian apocrypha
found, in 1946 by a shepherd?
         Egypt.

dot dot dot...
      why would i even care about
the dead sea scrolls?
     the dead sea scrolls, last time i heard,
concern the wrongly executed prophet /
courtesan, Isaiah -
  who was cut at the abdomen
                        in an execution...

the crucifixion of Hey-Zeus is not
some cherry on top of the calamity that
befell Jude(a)...
            in its liquidation,
in what became the liquidation of
                    the Roman Empire...

but... i am curious about the nag hammadi
library -
            honestly:
   if the Vatican didn't have its head
rammed up the ******* cardinals' ***...
it could have escaped under hush-hush
closure...
   and the orthodox texts would be
left intact...
             but... given they have been
so ******* lazy about covering
this up?
    
    what happened to the Library of
Alexandria when Christianity
took the populist route?
                   em...
                         whatever "secrets"
are bound to the Vatican library...
   when a naked truth is staring you
in the face?
              does it really matter,
at this point?

                       not really...
     apart from retaining a catholic poetic
elasticity to the faith,
i.e. allowing metaphorical cannibalism -
i see... no point to be an Atlas
for the church...
   rather... a Samson -
            lodged between the pillars -
pulling it apart.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2018
.wow, i never thought it would ever be possible,
i'm sorry, i have no empathy for these youtuber "creators",
any idiot can regurgitate the news,
venture into vulture journalism,
  then again: gone are the days of closely associated
with people like Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein...
they are really gone: what the hell was gamer-gate
compared to watergate? gate after gate,
and all i'm hearing is response videos,
it should have never come to this,
whereby journalists are as untrustworthy as politicians,
and of what remains, come the saturday and
the sunday editions, when the petty bourgeoisie
come out of the woodworks of a week,
album reviews, book reviews, t.v. reviews,
restaurant reviews: real, real journalism,
all the grit you'd expect from a warzone...
           journalists forgot they were not kindred spirits
of politicians: but immediacy historians...
the front-line history chroniclers...
i find... these days, esp. these days...
    you know why i like heidegger so much,
and forget the fact that he joined the **** party?
in 1938 he was already disillusioned by it...
so the ad homine fallacy bites the dust...
   even a **** deservers a redemption...
but i find that these days, of all days...
   man, as a historiological creature has to bow
before the unshakeable facets of the biological man,
esp. in the english speaking world...
    in terms of history and biology:
     history has all the fun stories,
and a sensible "concern" for time,
   well... if not "concern" then at least a bearbable
time-frame...
                  after all, i am the one who said:
all the great deserts of the world,
akin to sahara? they were once great
mountain ranges... you already know where
to look between a mountain range akin to the alps
and a desert... bound to h'america...
   monument valley: utah...
  a mountain becomes a rock after a while...
while the desert expands...
    ayers rock (uluru)... but monument valley (utah)
is a transition period between a mountain range
and a desert, if we're going to stand outside
of all space and time, and look back in...
we have plenty of time to catch-up on...
           just like i believe that black holes
are actually 2-dimensional objects:
   that spin really fast, giving an impression
of them being 3-dimensional objects:
as usually represented by a gravity dip associated
with them pulling matter into themselves...
i think that black holes are paradoxes...
since how can a 2-dimensional object
actually exist in a 3-dimensional space?
   that depends on the size of the "3-dimensional"
object / space... the universe is a medium,
it's defined as a "space" but to me...
      it's beyond space... it's only space on the grounds
of isolated time, 365 days,
the time and space it takes for the earth
to orbit the sun... which is an isolated example,
outside? well: there's atmosphere on earth,
outside? vacuum!
who's going to prove my theory wrong?
               not anyone in my lifetime -
besides the point with these youtube content
"creators": where credit is due, credit is due,
but once might have cared for their vulture
journalism... two old farts akin to felix (black pigeon
speaks) and sargon of akaad talking about how:
the youth are congregating to youtube to listen
to music: that's what i've always done...
  i discovered these youtube "creators" by accident,
i just wanted my jukebox back, man,
i wanted my algorithm back, my imprint back,
now that the devil's dozen scenario took hold
of the platform: 1 video playing, 12 back-ups...
and they're all the same, unrelated, *******...
        talk all you want, please, just give back
my algorithm imprint, where i can discover new music...
again... i never thought i'd see another
compilation video, 173 videos bound to one...
and, mind you... after finding about 6 googlewhacks
(googlewhack? when you use the sort of
language that provides you with only one search
result on the behemoth platform of billions
of results, 1 is grand, but 6? it's becoming too
predictable)...
                        so here's what i found
   (band - song):

wooly mammoth - mammoth bones / kyuss - space cadet,
rainbows are free - last supper / grand magus -
                                                mountain of power,
zed - lies / om - cremation chant I & II,
    smoke - hallucination / weird owl - white hidden fire,
orchid - son of misery / witch - seer,
               unida - you wish / black mountain - old fangs,
b.r.m.c. - ain't no easy way /
              jack daniels overdrive - ****** to death,
shrinebuilder - blind for all to see,
                   datura - mantra / the heavy eyes - voytek,
the machine - infinity / clutch - the regulator,
   colour haze - mountain / maligno - son of tlalocan,
dozer - twilight sleep / gomer pyle - albino rattlesnake,
blockback - dead mans blues / greenleaf - witchcraft tonight,
cactus jumper - right way / borracho - bloodsucker,
alabama thunderpussy - motor ready,
                    earthless - sonic power,
my brother the wind - death and beyond,
   zaphire oktalogue - carrion fly / siena root - reverberations,
unida - slaylina / pothead - toxic / sungrazer - mountain dusk,
   rotor - costa verde / blizaro - it's in the lighthouse,
planet of zeus - woke up dead,
     kongh - pushed beyond / ufomammut - smoke,
high on fire - to cross the bridge,
              the secret - bell of urgency,
      unida - wet pussycat / dozer - big sky theory,
cavity - chloride / brutus - swamp city blues,
the grand astoria - something wicked this way comes,
sasquatch - the judge / pharaoh overlord - skyline,
baby woodrose - love comes down / kamni - **** of satan,
lay with me - the flying eyes / cowboys & aliens  -
                                                out of control,
sons of otis - liquid jam / hainloose - recipe,
    ridge - rancho relaxo / bongripper - ****** sutherland,
skraeckoedland - cactus / grails - satori,
    lo-pan - chicken itza / five horse johnson - people's jam,
blind dog - don't ask me where i stand,
     wiht - orderic vitalis / hisko detria - nothing happens,
liquid sound company - leage for spiritual discovery lives,
   goatsnake - black cat bone / gandhi's gunn - rest of the sun,
the egocentrics - wave / propane propane - it's alright,
heliotropes - ribbons / mother mars - price you pay,
che - the knife / annimal machine - condenado,
   earth - tallahassee / the whirlings - delirio,
orchid - heretic / maeth - horse funeral,
siena root - rasayana / graveyard - longing,
           tia carrera - hell / hainloose - recipe,
      burner - five pills (and a bottle of whiskey),
dala sun - guilty for ****** / vulgaari - lie,
        slo burn - muezli / stonehelm - zombie apocalypse,
smallman - evolution / spiders - fraction,
         shakhtyor - e. jaspers / earthmass - lunar dawn,
evoke the lords - dregs / colour haze - silent,
     sutrah - el septimo viaje...

  

who are "these" people,
who: "supposedly" live for the future...
they always cite it,
as the one motivational
momentum of the present -
it's as if they've never seen
a bull itch the ground
with its front hoofs -
   imitating building up momentum
before a charge...
or how a slingshot,
or how a bow works...
   to these people,
the ******* sideways movement
of a bow against a violin...
sometimes...
      you do not retreat into
the past, to hide, to amount
to nostalgia...
     sometimes
the only reason for the reflexive
affirmation, confined to maxims
and aphorism, nay: even poems!
is to look back...
     to reap what was once
sowed, rather than sow blindly,
and reap: what no one wants
to reap...
    drunk? getting there...
       it felt so relaxing paying off
a 100 / 250 part of a debt
i owe her...
            while buying a russian
standard liter,
   asking for a 100 cash-back
of the supermarket cashier,
- the limit is 50,
   but if you buy something else,
i can give you another 50...
- oh... ok...
   so me went to and took a bottle
of shveedish cider...
   rekorderlig...
   mind you? the swedish,
what they perfected fermenting
better than what the the irish claim
to fame is?
    sorry... magners:
               irish? stick to the guinness...
(it's actually the only cerveza
i'd go into an english pub to
drink from the tap... bottled? canned?
not the same)...
     but with such swedish delights
such as the above mentioned,
  ålska and K  ö   nigsberg
                            *œ
?
no competition... the suede(s) just
do one thing grand...
    cider...
- what was i talking about?
  ah... the "dreaded" past...
     the people who say:
  but you can't live out a life,
   holding onto a private past,
a memory...
    so... these other ******* were
allowed to implant a false
past, unrelated to me,
teaching me whether it was
Newton, or Leibniz who first
invented the infinitesimal calculus
method?
                i'm betting on Leibniz...
after all... he took the position
of a ******* librarian...
   and he wasn't buried with pomp
& circumstance at Westminster Abbey...
sometimes...
         one person can't have it all...
but if the education system
is a system that is indicative for
the erosion of memory, esp. private
matters... and juggernauts in
with these selective rubrics of science
and history...
fair enough the basic
implants: numerical arithmetic,
and lettering arithmetic -
    and then... lessons in mental
entertainment... when applied
           to menial labour...
memory is: supreme...
          i can't give my memory up...
that's what: killer proteins
eating the fat tissue of the brain
like starvation in reverse
        of a case of Alzheimer's?
memory is: cameo cinema -
    however distorted it might be,
although i beg to differ on
whether time per se,
  is not the better psychedelic
component
when coupled with memory -
esp. the cinematic aspect of memory...
there was never a "living" in
the past -
      there was a point about memory
to sharpen the edges of
    "dasein"... all speculation and
questions regarding consciousness,
as championed through
a chimpanzee's *** are somehow
pointless:
    given there's a higher tier of
conceptualization -
   working from dasein...
            hierjetzt -
      or in english?             presence...
- because why would i treat
a personal memory,
like some inorganic entity of
a schooling system,
under Catholic measures,
  that made it necessary to include
Pythagoras... but not Horace?
that's inorganic memory...
and unless i turn into some
inorganic entity -
   the organic aspect of my psyche:
my past, my cameo cinema?
   that's going to be a leech,
attached to me...
  and i'm not going to give it up,
just like... when i walk about
my door, and enter the england
that i know on the peripheries...
i'll speak the lingua franca -
     but with my privacy?
    you'd better cut my tongue off
before i stop speaking
my western slavic heritage...
    and it pains me...
when certain groups of immigrants...
don't know the POINT
where immigration becomes
insensible... self-lacerating...
           i once hated their approach...
now i just pity them...
anyone ****** can juggle
     two oranges rather than three...
p.s. old school cure for a cold?
forget the pills...
   glass of warm milk,
  an egg yolk,
     and a good scratch of butter...
  (on the rare occasion,
  milk infused with garlic)

mixed together...
before bedtime...
  if the ****** won't sweat out
the bacteria during the night...
     well... stick to the synthetics...
i'm pretty sure i know why i drink...
certainly not to: PARTY PARTY PARTY...
i always aim for
the one safety net of "pharmacology"...
ssssssssleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

p.s. so much for children loving their
parents...
        in vitro and the whole
m.g.m. debacle:
so, sweet little *******,
       no *******, no chance for your
for a quickie satellite launch date from
Tehran, under all the weight of
monotheism turned secular...
christianity: the only "monotheism"
with overt tinged of polytheism,
lutheran, baptist, catholic, orthodox...
just today i opened my door twice...
once to a confused curry house delivery man:
did you order some food:
i too replied with a confused look
and the word: huh?! no.
then a black woman with a a white ol' granny
came by with a leaflet...
the jehovah's witnesses were on my trail...
lucky of my grandfather,
   the profanity brigade of the hebrew name
i will not dare utter came by...

  and if you have lived a good enough life:
memory? memory beats hollywood
technicolour and CGI...
at least in the cinema of memory i always
get to play the cameo (role)...

oh i get the youtube creators:
   living with his parents... still. aged 33...
funny that i don't mind them,
since they're getting older they're settling
into their solispsism,
        annoying as ****, but i stand them,
thank god the protruding caduceus veins
on my phallus protected me from
a circumcision...
  i can ******* like a girl with a web-cam...
no scented candles:
the no. 1, 2 & 3 on the throne of thrones...
the toilet, simultaneously masaging my ****
and prostate...

men were not exactly supposed to derive
pleasure from ***: they were,
supposed to give pleasure,
and in giving pleasure to one outlet,
they were subscribed to finding out what
best pleases them: ergo?
women would always derive more of
the people from *** than men would ever...
*** is not a story of bragging about
a harem... the woman lies flat...
the man pumps her...
after all... she is the one burdened
to carry a child, why wouldn't she be
the one deriving more pleasure from *** than
a man could ever?
72 virgins! ha ha!
   ah ha ha!
             what's the ratio?
   last time i checked... a 3 hole caravan...
of a woman's worth...
   mouth, ******, ****... and man?
only two points of entry, well...
"entry"...
                    seems that the tomatoe,
really is a fruit, but is treated like a vegetable
nontheless!
homosexuality in the 1960s...
william burroughs in Tangiers...
                    when Islam was quiet radical...

well... i cook, i clean...
                what are my other options of continuing
to write and living the ed gein "lifestyle",
i tried getting social housing in england,
but, i'm not a somali with two wives and a dozen
kids...
              rent, in london?
extortion...
                   housing shortage...
                 well there's me hating my parents,
the outside world just needs to see
an ed gein imitation...
               or there's me living off acorns
in the woods, or rummaging on the streets,
making the N25 bus from oxford st. to ilford
my own personal mobile hotel as a homeless
man in london...

   i think it's time to succumb to your
parents prejudices, if only for the jokes,
no point in making ethical high judgements
to fit into a zeitgeist narrative surrounding
yourself with people: you'd never eat a meal with...
that's how i define the highest form of respect:
if i'll eat with you: implies that i respect you...
i drink alone...
a high school fwend once thought he could
bribe me with his company,
that i "had to" drink with him...
      no... not really...
          i much prefer drinking by myself...
these days you're not expected to honour your
mother and your father,
i.e. make them proud...
               honour is a double-edged sword...
just don't be ashamed of having
a mother or a father...
not that hard: given western divorce rates...
i.v.f., frozen eggs... yadda yadda yadda...
lucky me in having went to university...
oh... really? so much cooler in a cosmopolitan
environment with your contemporary
flat-mates?
               get the picture?
                 paying rent while literally living
in a diguised cardboard box?
i can't help the fact that poetry doesn't pay...
that there are economic factors beyond
my control in play...
   maybe if i was the grandson of my parents,
born in england, and not elsewhere,
there would be some sort of + leverage...
for a bricks and mortar start-up...
plus... i hoard...
         books and music...
                     mind you:
neither of my parents spoke english as their
mother tongue...
  neither did i...
they didn't teach me this tongue:
i had to teach this language by myself:
for myself...
           aged 8: thrown into the deep end
of the pool: now swim ******, swim!

i just feel sorry for the immigrant parents
who gave birth to their children into the *****
of the land they immigrated to...

two days ago i found a heartbreak,
a romanian couple, with a child...
the father was stubborn in teach his daughter
his / her native sprechen...
romanian... but she was already speaking
perfect antithesis of accent kindergarten english...
and almost non-responsive to her tongue
alligned to her biology...
    clearly she was born in england,
but her parents were both romanian...
i've had that conundrum in my head
for a long time...
   what if i married an english girl...
and i was unable to teach my offspring
my native language,
what if i had to silence my native tongue,
"forget" it, or only speak it by myself,
via reading a book in western slavic?
what if the woman i married:
wouldn't see the benefits of bilingualism,
outside of the mainstream economic
mantra of ensuring your children
learn either german or mandarin or arabic?
that worried me...
          oh believe me, i enjoy my lapses
into english: since i am providing the groundwork...
but in the case of having offspring...
e.g. teaching them the western slavic tongue
so they could speak to their grandparents
(i.e. my parents)...
       even my grandparents lament
the scenarios when a woman would marry
an austrian... and she wouldn't teach
her children her native tongue,
and when the grandchildren would visit their
grandparents... they'd be speaking
a crude variation of braille, morse,
   sign-language: na migi...
               i know that my mother is alive
in me even under this veil of english...
because she's more than the womb,
the genitals of my conception, the breast fed off...
she's also the Atlas of my vocabulary
of the "hiding" tongue beneath this one...

i already knew the "game" was rigged from
the get-go... i've seen how one hindu woman
suffered being married to a scouser...
she never managed to pass on her language
to her children,
she bought a library, thinking her children
would succumb to learning: however poor
they might end up being...
but she was suffocated by the english
tongue of her husband...
and her children didn't express even the most
vague of desires to learn their mutterzunge...

that's what worried me to begin with,
marrying an english woman i was afraid
of the ignorance that someone bilingualism
was en route toward a psychiatrist disorder
i was diagnosed with: schizophrenia...
this anglophonic ignorance still scares me...
like: everyone is expected to speak the revisionist
globalist lingua franca: this anglo lingua...
if i didn't meet a bilingual / polyglot woman,
i'd return to rearing idiotic children...
anglo lingua was only supposed to be a middle-ground,
a "no man's land"...
             a language of trivial economic transfers...
a language primarily orientated around usage:
rather than an ethno-centric basis for "englishness"...
to **** with: god save the queen...
the british grenadiers' fife & drum...
                 old scot dragoons': auld lang syne...
those where my forever anthems...
see...
        what gave birth to a jihadi john?
his mother "forgot", his father "forgot":
his "mother" forgot, his "father" forgot to speak
the "ancient" tongue...
there's a point to integration of the immigrant,
an immigrant is a forgetful creature,
an ever pleasing creature...
never to mind himself as an ex-pat...
you ****** forget your mutterzunge...
you'll be speaking in cockney accents
with broken affairs of arabic beheading people
for zombified reasons of grandeour!
*******...
          you, you: you are to blame!
you were so ashamed of your parents that you
delved on honoring them to the point
of thinking giving pride unto them was very
much akin as keeping shame away from
their girdle of the wedlock of your own existence!
death has not made your a martyr...
i guess you deserve those 72 mishaps,
those 72 annoying voices...
and i pray to god that you receive your reward!
i hope that among the 72 you will never find
a chance a repose to find your: self!

integration is one thing,
pandering to the "elites": plebs who think they
are kings among the plebs,
is quiet another...
plebs who go places and think english
is a universal tongue: just because
uncle sam says so...
of those i respect:

y cymraeg: pwy dal eu tafod...
an gàidhlig: cò fhathast bruidhinn an cuid teanga...
i nawet moim: co ma mówić
to nawet tyle: co znaczy tak niewiele!

there are boundaries... learn the customs
of the natives, but ensure you retain the customs
you were born with...
a child, born in a foreign land,
ought to ensure his parents teach him
the words to speak to his grand overseers...
complete immersion,
this cultural abortion,
this cutting of the umbilical chord
from: i have never met a people so
content at having been subjugated outside
the indian sub-continent,
cricket... for ****'s sake...
       as to demand other europeans
to treat them as superiors,
when sitting alongside an englishman...
****-bud-bud, the **** are you on about?!
once again: england has become the circus
for the grounding of what began
with engels and marx...
   wasn't communism born from
engels and marx observing english society?
sure... first experimented en masse in
mongolia... but its origins?

   so of course i had problems finding a suitable
mating partner... i was afraid that my nativ-zunge
would die a slow but solemn death...
that an english bridge would not consider
the worth of a bilingual child, or a polyglot,
or that she would repress the chance of my
"biological continuum nuance" to respond outside
of the anglo lingua refrain of: beside the english language?
there are quiet a few one might want to learn...

it's not easy being a first generation immigrant,
esp. if you moved aged 8, mute as a wolf
to a domesticated dog's barking...
but hey, no jihadi john in me...
           jihadi john should have been raised
bilingual... i wouldn't be the one speaking broken
tourist arabic while beheading someone...
jihadi john spoke tourist arabic...
the dichotomy of the mind to the biological
reality, beside the current, western,
"biological relativism" debate...
      clearly darwinism was "wrong"...
man is, these days, left with neither a biological
reality, nor a historical reality...
              but there is a historical reality:
but it's so knit-&-picky...
come on... philip augustus of the capetian
dynasty?
                 casimir III...
                        jeremi wiśniowiecki...
konrad I of masovia...
                           kuno von lichtenstein...
alles ist gott: und gott ist alles -
  gott mit, uns!

              mit eine leben wert leben:
    erinnerung ist die nur kino
             wert sehen eine film beim;

hell... could be worse:
   i might have translated some latin
of horace into pig-trough comfort food.
Purcy Flaherty Jan 2018
Initially she began contacting me over the course of a year or so and increasingly over the last few months she started visiting me, helping me, caring for me and occasionally employing me in different ways.

She’d just had a break up a few weeks before, explaining that things hadn’t been right in the relationship for some time!

She presents herself as respectful, thoughtful, gentle, kind and considerate and after what seemed to be a very short length of time; unexpectedly declared that she had feelings for me; regarding love, admiration, desire and some other adventures.

She then began to bombarded me with love talk; occupying around 70% of my time gaining my trust, I was swept off my feet; she took a great deal of interest in me, learning everything about me, what I liked, where I would go, always asking what I was thinking feeling, how she could help and I was flattered and she was charming, though a little awkward at times.

As our friendship grew she started sharing her back story, including some tragic life experiences; she vilified her past lovers, and ex-partners and branded them as crazy, or bitter liars and troubled souls; slowly gaining my sympathy, whilst securing my allegiance, and keeping me on side; keeping me close; drawing on my compassion loyalty & trust!

During intimate moments she would sometimes seem a little awkward, false, over enthusiastic or a little insincere, and I made allowances for this given my knowledge of her backstory.
Re: (tragic events & experiences)

She began to choose and buy me clothes; outfits, take me shopping, gradually altering my outward image and appearance.

She introduced me to her friends; but was careful to keep me and them at arms-length, I realise (((Now))) that she was building an alternative profile of me in their minds and that the people she introduced to me rarely exhibited the behaviors or characteristic that I was led to expect.

She soon started to embroil me in her own rituals and compulsive behavior's, explaining that tasks needed to be performing in very specific ways to prevent her getting distressed!

She made many promises : ‘The hook’ It was my expectation i.e. waiting for some of those promises to materialise, that kept me hanging on the hook; As this increased her control and I think exited her too.
(Next to none of her promises came to fruition!)

She gradually had a hand in almost every aspect of my life i.e. my home, my work, my friends, family, my finances, the way I dressed, the food I ate and many other things besides, much of which I didn’t realise until our relationship was finally over. and I was left empty.
(In every way)

She often took immense pleasure in duping, individuals or companies out of something through theft, shoplifting, or getting something for nothing, a profiteer, a chancer!

To question or challenge her authority would result in seeing her facade slip and watch her decline into meltdown. It's at that point, she would lose composure, and I would see her irrationality come to the fore; revealing the real person underneath; childish, contrived and very fragile; It’s as if control is the glue that holds her together, without it she just falls apart, during this time she can’t be consoled and it’s impossible to calm this escalating situation; in fact; at this point that she would attempt to regain control by ‘gas-lighting’ me, she would distort the truth; re: who said what; in an attempt to damage my self-esteem, to make me question my own mind, my words, my intention and any actions, apportioning blame, pointing fingers, making me feel guilty, use rejection, or using hurt, sorrow, tears, shame and even threaten liable or legal action, and then use *** to pacify or regain control over me and my actions.

These episodes would appear often; though irregular and without provocation, I would always be deemed at fault!
I found silent compliance was less stressful than engaging in discussion.    

She never took responsibility or made any apologies for her conduct.

She would set me tasks, and go out a lot, and lie or bend the truth, as to where she had been; I never once challenged this behaviour!

When the relationship was finally deemed over; I was both devastated and relieved.

I began to see my new position in the cycle; as she immediately begin to vilify me in order to give credence to her new backstory, I felt very confused, disorientated and emotionally fraught, shell shocked! questioning, how much of our relationship was true and how much was a lie? For everything I thought I knew was now knitted together with a very complex web of loyalties, lies and half-truths.

Her pattern of repetitive and controlling behaviors have seemingly remained unchanging throughout all her relationships;
(I was covertly contacted by many of her previous partners and various other casualties since leaving her, and they offered shared many familiar experiences.

Within two weeks of being apart (ostracised) she informed me that she had fallen in love (And that my replacement) some-one she admires, someone kept just within the circle, a mutual acquaintance and she even thanked me for bringing them together.

My assumption is that: The grooming of her new lover will have commenced some time ago; her M.O. (Her pattern of behaviors, her techniques have remained fixed.)

She’s incredibly self-conscious, her biggest fear is that other people will find out about her true demeanour, as her image and appearance is everything to her. She's afraid that people will shun her for being so very, very different.
She is a wolf, that’s not to say she is a malevolent creature par-say; she is awesome, beautiful and beguiling in many ways, but you don’t want to be pray.

Full circle:
I too have joined the ranks of the discredited; labelled a liar, troubled, bitter and crazy; she contacted members of my, family, friends and some fellow musicians; and a few folks shared some of these conversations accusations with me.)
I suspect that she may even attempt to vilify me with authorities or threaten some form of legal action; as she has to other lovers in the past.

Despite everything I'm still drawn to her charismatic boldness, her awkward ****** power, her intelligence, and so…I have blocked all means of contact to curtail my own almost pathological interest, for despite everything that’s transpired, her lies, her infidelity, her deceit and appalling behaviour, I'm still drawn, intrigued, bewitched, beguiled by the person hiding underneath the façade.

Now the dust has finally settled; I’ve somehow remained sound of mind.

I don’t feel guilty or loyalty anymore; I’m aware that I’ve been manipulated into thinking and acting in ways that don’t truly represent my character; and that I’m just one of many people seduced by a sociopath; (((another natural human variant)) a person devoid of empathy for others, an entity that’s developed a narrow set of skills and mirroring behaviors, that allows her to blend into mainstream society in order to feel safe, secure and in control.

She would have preferred to keep me hanging on, like many other dependents, adding me to the hareem; a bank of beguiled individuals that she occasionally calls upon to perform simple tasks, or perhaps to monitor and re-assess her clever handwork.

The last time we met she opened with nervous politeness and finished with pleasure and veiled cruelty.
I left feeling drained, uncomfortable and quite fazed.

I’ve written this diary account to help further understand what had transpired during this complicated relationship.
(I’ve published it here with no names, because I think it’s worth understanding, it’s not a warning or a vengeful act.

In any case, Her next lover will ignore any pre-warnings as just bitter ramblings, as most individuals are driven by the natural pursuit of love, which consists of caring intellectual loyalty, *** and romance rather than following advice of some seemingly bitter ex. ( And rightfully so)

Good kind or exciting people further enhance the image and status of a sociopath and they will orbit your small shiny star, tapping into your  valuable energy before  slingshotting into a larger, more attractive orbit of a lager star.
Sadly love, *** and desire is simply a tool for manipulation and gain, it's all about prestige.

I wish her well, like every creature.

Expect high drama.
She loves to watch you come unstuck
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2016
.oh i don't know, why would i have a "problem" with christianity... where and whence it went into the new lands like some conquering reject... i'm all still hot & bothered that so few people read the counter mainstream: **** me... the atom bomb didn't wake them up, why would the discovery of the nag hammadi library wake them up? st. thomas' gospel: like... jesus playing chinese whispers with thomas, who wrote, after hey'zeus took him aside, told him something, upon returning to the other disciples they inquired, and thomas replied: if i told you what he told me, you'd stone me... back in hey'zeus' time... sure... social ostracism: b'ah b'ah black sheep says: wolf! the clown cries, the theatre burns down and everyone enjoys a night out... back to basics i guess: we're not talking about outright social ostracism... we're talking about psychological ostracicism: is it me... or has cogitans per se reached a zenith when it was to tickle the traits of calustrophobia... it's no longer ego cogito... it's... ego cogito: superego noose quasi- / semi- "thinking" and the unconscious id aspect of ego... whenever attached to "thought": short-circuits and goes into an epileptic spasm of: what to do?! what to do?! what to do?! *******: you have your new freudian pseudo christian trinity: mental gymnastics provided by the israeli co-op to teach you to count pythagoras via spaghetti curly-whirly... fun! fun fun fun! i once lived alone in my head, having only one body... now i have one body, but many paranomal "telepathic" insurgents living with me... who do not concern themselves with the concept of space... ego, head, toe, does it really matter whether a manicure is to be exacted? i don't like smoke, i don't like mirrors: i rather melt in the fire... i am the son, i am the heir... of a shyness that is criminally ******... probably the best lyrics in the world... i am human and i need to be loved, just like everybody else does... magic, par excellence... please... jesus basish died when it left europe, now a h'american resurgence... happy people happy sheep go to sleep without question... happiness is an act of levitation in terms of existentialism... and when it shatters... it's not a nervous breakdown... even on the scale of the individual... the fall of the tower of babel comes with the fifth horseman of the apocalypse... riding a ******* unicorn... well... he's actually the sixth... the fifth is already riding... ha ha... horseman... he's riding a donkey to the site of execution... who needs drungs when you can measure what the co-op convenience stores are selling as a liter of whiskey... they're actually selling 1.425 liters of whiskey... i measured the sloppy herring slitherings and salmon high jumps... see... the atom bomb was dropped... but the mainstream christian never mention my angst... the nag hammadi library is never mentioned... why isn't the unearthing of the nag hammadi library never mentioned? the hebrews are all over the discovery of the dead sea scrolls, their dissociation simulated with their 2000 year old the penance for unrightfully sentencing the prophet isaiah to be cut in half... and he was a courtesan (isaiah): so what?! did he speak truly? 2000 years of jewish history... summed up by the unjust killing of the prophet isaiah... lesson learned... the lawful killing of hey'zeus: well, 2000 years of masochism of willing converts to "appease" the god: coincidental shared "circumstances"... why am i not a christian? if love is what is and what is the cross: sorry... can i decline having a fetish for a latex ******* *** fantasy?! or... you know that story of the perverted dog? the one that is so ***** is latches onto your leg and starts to ******* you, imitating the **** of you with a curled hand to propose the **** itch-tight simulation? oh no... we hide the socially ostracised... so we wheeled out the retards for full display... and monger... the critique has become elevated... it's harder to pick-out the knitty-picky intentions of people who want to differentiate before the grand c.c.t.v. altar of the omni-unus watching via the terms: proselyte... pharisee... sadducee... baptist mongrel presbyterian... honestly... spew me all this post-atom-bomb *******... oblivious regarding the nag hammadi library... mainstream h'american christianity: honestly, with this amount of reading even atheism doesn't suffice! atheism doesn't suffice! the antithesis yet to be explored by the masses is my curriculum motus... mea motus vitae! h'america is yesterday... yesterday being late 90s early 00s... now it's a quasi-balkan paranormal export cultural affair of tarantula bit-frames of former convo... it's like watching a regurgitating boa constrictor snake rather than an ingesting boa constrictor with 2 weeks spare of waiting in smog for the next meal... why didn't i follow the catholic bureucracy and be confirmed? well... why don't mainstream h'american "christians" come out and say: yes, the emergence of the nag hammadi library is problematic for us... it's sure as **** problematic for me... and what will come later, and reach the mainstream... with be the sort of explanation associated to the clarity of depiction of a human face, as close as picasso came "close" within the framework of cubism... hellish contortions and exponential deviations... imagine how hellish the human face is depicted in cubism... now imagine that same face smiling: within cubism.

there you have it, automated phone service,
the pinnacle of the national health service,
the surgery got rated 1.7* (stars),
1 for the fact they exist, and 0.7 for the service
they provide; god almighty i hope you
don't fall ill in england these days,
it's like trying to buy a ******* turnip at
the butchers or fishmongers...
dial the number... a robot answers
'hello, thank you for calling the north street
medical centre... please note that we do
not deal with repeat prescriptions over the
telephone; please press 1 to book or cancel
a triage appointment; press 2 if you have a
query concerning a prescription...'
2...
'thank you, if you have an urgent query
concerning your prescription please press
0 to speak to a receptionist...'
0...
'hello, welcome to north street medical care
multiple choice questionnaire...'
oh for ****'s sake...
what now?
when was the battle of Hastings?!
1066                    yesterday               mm, maybe tomorrow?!
there i am with a simple need, just write
the ****** prescription and i'll be off,
it's not like i'm asking you to do 7 hours of surgery on me;
no wonder they got 1.7 stars...
there are more receptionists than actual doctors:
ooh spooky spooky ****** doo in the bag too,
ooh look at me, i am Microsoft word proficient,
i'm the cream of the crop... fair enough,
and i'm a ventriloquist in my spare time -
pour me a pint while you're at it,
my throat's dry from all the cursing...
because why the hell do you even have a contact
number for a surgery... if it just cuts you off?!
might as well return to the antiquity of using my
legs and seeing you face to face,
because that's what i seem to have to do...
go for a walk, come back with some poor somali
girl who walked 5 miles for a bucket of water.
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Breaking up is hard to do
       let's rise take it easy
       Waking- up don't be lazy
My morning glory spiritual stretch
Soothe me like a tranquilizer
His words are my pacifier
The shooting star sprinkling shot

Stars work dot to dot
They connect get rid of all
broken heart subjects
Soothe me star even if there
is nothing to do

We need to do something
Earth wind and fire just
knock-me-out
Don't lock me and throw away
the star key is it going to Key- West
 Daylight no broken light in my
        Star stuff- sight
Light to the dark twilight

Those zillions of stars my
eyes closed I suppose
Take another look lovely rose
The same spot share the good stuff
I saw the soothing words
Star pointed toes who knows
Even
or to out-win the odds?

Not the starry night
Going through something
It's been a hard day night
One star light years to fight
Breathe in and soothe me
It was up to me not to blind me
My cool spirit meditation table

The New York soothing menu
Rendezvous all talk but delicious
She is tough walking
The hardest avenue
The *Positive me
even if its the
broken up me that's the only me
No one can take his place to soothe me

French fondue it suits her another clue
Red White moody blues the statue
Do you all agree? Another feel good
shopping spree are the stars true
I cannot even say soothing-word
Your home is your oasis love stuff
                Venus

Sooth me star stuff no one to minus

The hard stuff is to better yourself
The feel-good smooth flowing
Even if you missed your star
You're the no star he's is always late
Soothe me star may be my fate
Cafe warm running lattte late

The forever flight hit so hard
  Got_  Thrown brick harder
They say remorse is the
poison of life
And divorce could be the best
change in someone's life

OH! Lord The new? Hard cushion/night

"The winding rough road see the light"
*It may be tough but make it good deed
Athletic Girly curve walk
The pep talk she had the tough birth
The Preppy he's training the puppy stuff
You don't have to be a star it doesn't matter

Who you are
Never get in the middle of a dare
Show the whole world you care
Puff the magic dragon
Harder side of logic is the mission
Been Moonstruck light flick
Both mouths a volcano

Hard star stuff ham and swiss hero
Exploring new stuff
Please take it from pointed star
beware?
She walks like she is hot stuff
Those color forms of love stuff
Things and stuff
Stuff and things

Walking through the end of
the exit
It a hard position of the angle
Tough to be single even more
to deal with lotsa stuff to be married
Being the first online
I am getting a handle on my stuff

Indie Pop like Ice Queen Pop
Going mainstream
She's Brook long stream
He's under the influence
She doesn't nearly have
the up to par patience
Gifts of curiosity

Adjusting to reality
Hard life too much focus
On our happiness
He's coming home
breadwinner of money
Just one loaf of
bread she blossoms
Disavows humanity

The harder the words
How it challenges our sanity

Dark crayon hard stuff
Heavy_Rough__Tough
Wild Hawaii Say Hi to all our
blissfully but soothing hearts
She is like a hard sandpaper
He is so cool reading his
worldly carefree life

He is inside the newspaper
Big Ben London guard
How mindset like Hallmark card
Too much Holiday Turkey going
****** tunes when there is I tunes
So powerless word hard ingenious
Be thankful for what you have
But feeling too much
of the dry spell that rain fall
Going to that heavenly gifted secret
Like an Elephant, you are

the tough one the smart one magnet
No-one is perfect to be the
brilliant one
The star way of the fantasy
Nothing fancy doesn't make you jump
Presidential Trump Roger Rabbit
My lucky tower rabbit foot
Between a hard rock meets her sexuality

Having bad luck long shot solitude
Hallucinations all dark things hurt
My imagination world is sometimes
belly overstuffed Santa Claus
I love the hard candy bitter- sweet metal
Who gets the Metals and honors
The Terminators better leaders

PJ-Clarkes Princeton NJ
Superman Clark Kents
We need more therapy events
Princeton pancakes no remakes
And tons of maple syrup
***** Tonk women at the rodeo
Her horse lucky hoof sooth me

Stars real stuff
New York City roof ruff ruff
A hard rock and critters
And then you wake
back to the hard stuff

Soothe your pain the goodness of the rain
Hard life or its way too easy what is truly better I know my moods change in this hell of a gun weather. Let's keep our spirit high and heal our minds to get better don't you want a better life or something in the middle of the road make sure you don't kiss deeply inside of a hard binding book of the fairy tale. You are worth so much more than kissing a toad but we are talking about the hard stuff please go easy on me
judy smith Apr 2015
The Pakistan Fashion Design Council in collaboration with Sunsilk presented the fourth and final day of the eighth PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week. Indeed the 8th PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week marked the twelfth fashion week platform initiated by the Pakistan Fashion Design Council [with eight weeks of prêt-à-porter and four of bridal fashion] and was a direct manifestation of the Council’s commitment to sustainability and discipline within the business of fashion and the facilitation of Pakistan’s retail industry. Indeed #PSFW15 endeavoured to define and present trends for 2015, focusing specifically on fashion for the regions’ long hot summer months. Day-4 featured High-Street Fashion shows by the House of Arsalan Iqbal, Erum Khan, Chinyere and Hassan Riaz and designer prêt-à-porter shows by Sana Safinaz, Republic by Omar Farooq, Syeda Amera, Huma & Amir Adnan, Sania Maskatiya and HSY.

Speaking about the PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week platform, Chairperson of the PFDC, Sehyr Saigol said: “With the 12th iteration of our critically acclaimed fashion weeks, the PFDC is always working to streamline our prêt-à-porter platform to make the PSFW experience more beneficial for all stakeholders in terms of show experience, exposure and ultimately, retail value. To that end, each year we look inward to find the best possible formats and categories to benefit the very trade and business of fashion. In this vein, we introduced 3 separate categories for Luxury/Prêt, High Street and Textile at PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week, giving each entirely separate show space, times, audience exposure and viewing power. Our High Street fashion brands had been given a standalone show time on two separate days as early evening shows and Textile brands a separate dedicated day for Voile shows on Day 3 of PSFW 2015, a measured step to further highlight Pakistan’s textile prowess and high street fashion strength which are of significant importance to national and international fashion markets. As per past tradition, we continue to work closely with all our emerging designers and mainstream brands to help hone their collections for the runway through mentorship by senior PFDC Council members and with retail support through the PFDC’s own stores and network. We are grateful for the committed support of our sponsors and partners which provides us the stimulus to further enhance our fashion week platforms and put forth the best face of Pakistani fashion on a consistent basis.”

“The Sunsilk girl is an achiever, with an air of enthusiasm and positivity. Great hair can give her the extra dose of confidence so with Sunsilk by her side, she is empowered to take on life. Fashion is very close to this aspirational Pakistani girl making the PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week a highly valued platform for us. We recognize PFDC’s efforts to promote the fashion industry and experienced and upcoming talent alike. Sunsilk has been a part of this fantastic journey for 6 consecutive years and continues to shape aspirations, taking contemporary fashion directly to the homes of consumers and encouraging them to script their own stories of success” said Asanga Ranasinghe, VP Home and Personal Care for Unilever Pakistan.

On the concluding day of #PSFW15, the Chairperson of the PFDC Mrs. Sehyr Saigol also made a special announcement on behalf of the Council and its Board Members, where she shared the Council’s plans to establish Pakistan’s first ever craft based Design District, a multi-purpose specialized facility that would assist in developing and enhancing the arts and crafts industries, which are an integral part of Pakistan’s rich cultural legacy. In addition to being a centre for skill improvement and capacity building, the Design District would also house a first of its kind Textile Museum.

The official spokesperson of the PFDC, Sara Shahid of Sublime by Sara also announced the official dates for the Council’s next fashion week, PFDC L’Oréal Paris Bridal Week 2015 which is scheduled to be held from 15th September to 17th September 2015.

Indeed the success of PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week continued to prompt private sector associates to grow in their engagement of the platform to launch new marketing campaigns and promotional activities. To this end, the PFDC’s evolving partnership with Sunsilk grew exponentially this year whereby in addition to their title patronage; Sunsilk also took over the coveted PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week red carpet and the Green Room/Backstage, as sponsors. This extension of their support is indeed a manifestation of the brand’s belief in and commitment to the platform. Also in continuation of their support for the platform, Fed Ex – GSP Pakistan Gerry’s International returned to PSFW as the official logistics partner, offering the PFDC a special arrangement for international designer consignments.

PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week 2015 was styled by the creative teams at Nabila’s and NGENTS. Light design, set design, sound engineering, video packaging, choreography and show production from concept to construction was by HSY Events, front stage management by Maheen Kardar Ali, backstage management by Product 021, Sara Shahid of Sublime by Sara as the official spokesperson for the PFDC, logistics and operations by Eleventh Experience and photography by Faisal Farooqui and the team at Dragonfly, Hum TV/Hum Sitaray as the Official Media Partners, CityFM89 as the Official Radio Partners with all media management by Lotus Client Management & Public Relations.

High-Street Fashion Shows

The House of Arsalan Iqbal

The afternoon High-Street Fashion Shows on the final day of PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week 2015 were opened by leading fashion brand The House of Arsalan Iqbal, who showcased a collection titled ‘Devolution Chic’. Inspired by street art across the world by various artists, European high-street trends and technique of quilting, Arsalan Iqbal garnered personal portfolios of graffitists from myriad urban cityscapes such as London, New York, Tokyo, Barcelona and Cape Town, juxtaposed with some unique in-house created patterns including those of Pac-man, calligraphic flourishes and aqua and tangerine bands and circlets. Based in chiffon, the ensembles were molded into voluminous structured silhouettes including draped tunics, edgy jumpsuits and wide palazzos dovetailed with off-white and ecru charmeuse silk jackets created with a revolutionary quilting process. Along with menswear pieces, the collection also included in-house footwear and jewellery made in collaboration with pioneering Karachi-based street artist SANKI.

Erum Khan

Designer Erum Khan followed next and made her PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week debut with ‘The Untainted Shine’. The collection took its inspiration from the sparkle of twinkling stars, a walk on pearl dew in the morning and the enchanted glow which is produced when “a magic wand” is waved around the body, making it glow in a pearlescent white and exhibiting a jewel themed lustre on the body. With neat and straight structured cuts, Erum had used fabrics such as organza combined with silk, 3D flowers, patch work and antique katdanna in a collection which was based in a white colour palette. Trends highlighted in the collection were high waist skirts to button up pants and sheer long dresses. Acclaimed Pakistani musician Goher Mumtaz and his wife Anam Ahmed walked the ramp as the designer’s celebrity showstoppers.

Chinyere

Following Erum Khan, fashion brand Chinyere showcased its Spring/Summer 2015 High-Street collection ‘Mizaj-e-Shahana’ at PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week 2015. An ode to the era of the Mughal royalty and their imperial aesthetic, the collection comprised of modern silhouettes and traditional embellishments with organza skirts paired with cropped tops, angarkha-peplum tops with embellished cigarette pants, sheer knee-length jackets paired with structured digital printed bustier-jumpsuits, diaphanous wrap-around boot-cuts and embellished boxy sleeves with soft A-line silhouettes. Chinyere also showcased ten menswear pieces comprising of waistcoats, jodhpurs, knee-length sherwanis paired with gossamer sheer kurtas. The colours used had been divided into a collection of distinctive Mughalesque pastels and jewel tones. The pastels included the classic marble ivory-on-ivory, the bold black, saffron, gold and ivory. The colour segments also included metallic gold and grey sections, with accents of bronze and black. The jewel tones included jade, emerald, ruby and sapphire.

Hassan Riaz

The concluding High-Street fashion show of PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week 2015 was presented by Hassan Riaz who showcased his ‘Contained Shadows’ collection. Inspired by the diverse facets of the human soul that explore both the dark and light sides of human nature, taking into account yearnings, desires, and anxieties that make us distinctly human, Hassan had based the collection in summer twill, organza and summer denim in shades of blue and white with a gold accent to reflect upon his inspirations. ‘Contained Shadows’ made use of structured and drifting silhouettes, cage crinolines with corsets and bustiers with distinct trends featuring cropped tops, nautical accents, experiments with transparency and patchworks of metal mixed & matched with flowers.

Designer Showcases

Sana Safinaz

PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week 2015’s evening [rêt shows on the fourth and final day was opened by premier designer label Sana Safinaz. Sana Safinaz’s PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week collection was inspired by monochromatic structured looks with pops of color. The collection was based in luxe fabrics such as kattan, silks, fine silk organza and dutches satin in a colour palette majorly based in black and white with strong vibrant pop infusions.
Key trends being highlighted were the oversized T, constructions-clean lines, simplicity of cuts and effective embellishments.

Republic by Omar Farooq

Following Sana Safinaz, acclaimed menswear brand Republic By Omar Farooqshowcased a collection titled ‘Que Sera, Sera!’ (whatever will be, will be!). Omar Farooq had used a variety of luxe fabrics such as suede, linen, chiffon, cotton, cotton silk and wool silk. A collection for all seasons, the ensembles built upon the label’s signature aesthetics while providing a new take on contemporary menswear. Acclaimed media personality Fawad Khan walked the ramp as the brand’s celebrity showstopper.

Syeda Amera

The third Prêt show of the final day of PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week 2015 was presented by designer Syeda Amera who made her ramp debut with ‘The World of Sea’. Inspired by love for the enchanting underwater, the collection was based in premium quality organza, jersey, nets and silks with delicate cuts and embellishments consisting of beads, sequins and feathers to reflect the collection’s aquatic theme. ‘The World of Sea’ featured a palette of aqua marine, scupa blue, powder pink, grey blue, tequila sunrise yellow, orange and lagoon green with trends that employed skirt layering, frills and ruffles and flared pants.

Huma & Amir Adnan

Following Syeda Amera, Huma & Amir Adnan showcased a joint collection for the first time at a fashion exhibition. Both Huma and Amir feel that as a couple they share their lives and draw synergies and their collection ‘Symphony’ was an epitome of how two people can revolve around the same concept in harmony, while maintaining their individual distinction. Showcasing both menswear and women’s wear at PSFW 2015, Huma and Amir had used a mix of fabrics, textures and embellishments with a complex collection of weaves, prints and embroideries in silk, linen, cotton and microfiber. The color palette included midnight blue, emerald green, wet earth, aubergine, ivory, old paper, turmeric, leaf and magenta. Key trends highlighted in the collection were long shirts, double layered shirts, printed vests and jackets, textured pants, colored shoes for men and layers of multi-textured fabrics, tighter silhouette, vests and jackets for women.

Sania Maskatiya

Designer Sania Maskatiya showcased the penultimate Luxury/Prêt collection of the evening at PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week 2015. This S/S ’15, Sania Maskatiya took audiences on a fashion journey to ‘Paristan’ – a place of fairytale whimsy at PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week. With a colour palette ranging from the softest shades of daybreak to the deepest hues of nightfall, ‘Paristan’ was a collection of playful, dreamlike prêt ensembles. Featuring luxury fabrics like silk, organza, charmeuse and crepe, the pieces followed the brand’s signature silhouettes, both structured and fluid. Beads and sequins embellished varied hemlines and multiple layering, all set against captivating scenes of mirth and magic. Motifs ranged from the sublime to nonsensical; friendly mice and naughty elves, clocks and teapots, flowering fields and star-filled skies, princesses and ponies.

HSY

Day-4’s finale was presented by acclaimed couturier HSY who showcased a collection titled ‘INK’; a collection inspired by Asia and specifically HSY’s journeys to The Land of the Rising Sun. INK represented the essence of Langkawi, Indonesia, Nagasaki, and Yunnan with natural and indigenous yarns, hand-woven to perfection. The collection featured the traditional dyeing techniques of Shibori from Nagasaki, Batik from Indonesia, and Gara from Sierra Leone infused with mackintosh, saffron, aubergine, eggshell, rosette, indigo and ochre. Created with the scorching sub continental summer in mind, INK channelled versatile hemlines to suit a diversity of younger, older, working men, women and homemakers alike.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane
Julian Jun 2018
The ******* of embezzled glory staunchly defend their counterfeit stature by defalcating the public trust of industrious societies governed internally by compunction and sabotaged externally by the tempests of acerbic fate met with inclement aleatory convergence. To supply a society with ingenuity without being complaisant or officious with unctuous pleas to the overlords we must fashion a new vogue that taps the bustle of giants and aggrandizes the margins to oversee their own creative destinies with scaffolded arrangements of titanic promise and justifiable fluidity to conquer the blinkered dogmatism of a dissolute chastity to inveterate apocryphal tenets of factitious but unmerited perspectives. Democracy crumbles when the convenience of sensationalism supplants the resolve of those that fossick hidden wealth and promulgate validity instead of undergirding pomp with precarious prevarications of duplicitous omission guarded gingerly by the gatekeepers of a ****** sanity that whitewashes the discussion with invented hobgoblins and purblind catharsis. To defeat simplicity and enshrine byzantine elegance as the paragon for voguish commentary rather than abide by a bowdlerized decorum for appeasing simpletons with divisive balkanization through identity politics we can overcome the impediments to human progress that are engineered to persist because of the inertia of the listless and the stubbornness of doctrinaire politicization and invent vivacity and festivity anew. We need to divorce ourselves from pedestrian quibbles of hero-worship that endanger the vitality of the common discourse because of fastidious pedantic disempowerment that ravages us with debased dreams by underscoring nuisances and tolerable nightmares that emasculate the virulence of the liberated individual and subvert his ambitions to contend with a picaresque world of limitless promise and self-motivated internal wealth.
      The bane of modernity is how chary the world becomes because of fractured histories intersecting with controversial destinies and the antidote to that poisonous self-defeating self-censorship is the audacity of brazen challenges to expurgation through assiduous resourcefulness and delicate diplomacy in wrangling controversies with outspoken courage rather than whispered resentment. Temerity waged in inclement circumstance is justified and curiosity stoked by lambent flames of fulgurant individualism should be fortified to the extent necessary to conquer the feckless spoilsports of unctuous puritanism and institutional obedience. The quacksalvers that blather about inconsequence strand the imagination in a desiccated desert that is ostracized from the palettes of the artistic whim to wield efflorescence rather than squander life in pursuit of perfunctory lucre or tenuous solidarity around banal idealism promised by social justice warriors that forget the biggest war being waged on humanity is on the ingenuity of the common discourse and the liberty to opine about real issues rather than saccharine conventions of emasculation through linguistic imprisonment and epicurean slavery to fashimites who relish the buzzword but never the enlightened audience that scoffs at feeble attempts at cultural commentary like Childish Gambino’s “This is America” music video. This particular artifact is a demonstration of how childishly fickle the plebeian mentality really is, stitching together a bricolage of violence to engineer controversy and serenading it with the most banal music imaginable and exhorting people to herald it as a high artform while inundating the world with unimaginative comic book movies and Star Wars rip-offs because of the lucrative business of formulaic replication. “This is America” should be regarded as a parody of itself because of how hackneyed its design is and how cacophonous it sounds and mocks its audience with lowbrow tactics of adding tinsel to trash and marketing it as the glory of tatterdemalions rather than the refinement of true cinematic achievements that have been relegated because Warhol’s Campbells-Soup-consumerism trumps true belletrist in the public view.
        Cultural watersheds punctuate our history with salient achievements in experimentation, but the formulaic profiteering of buzzword sensationalism and yellow journalism and the ostentatious glorification of promiscuous boasting and fancy cars tantalize the mice to continue playing slot machines rather than penning a novel or doing something promethean. The world scoffs at Trump but ignores the bigger institutional caveats that endanger us much more than a pragmatic albeit unconventional pontificator who is complicit in constructing a false narrative to enslave mindless people to fret about eminence rather than delight themselves in the consequential nuances of established refinement that used to serenade the world with flourish and spectacle. The world kowtows to the crusade against flavor-of-the-week enemies of the liberal-conservative syncretism because it has been conditioned to believe that synthesis is the only logical solution for the polarized worldviews of churlish people that become parvenus not on their merits but on their marketable pitfalls and their public foibles. Peccadillos are more important to people than virtues and this makes society morally bankrupt if we loiter around Astroturf causes that have been infiltrated by corporatism and venal debauchery and acquiesce as disempowered gossip hounds that hunt in packs to find jest in aberration rather than achievement in self-created narratives that defy the stupid purblind boorishness of the mainstream media and its haughty liberalism or the persnickety condemnation of priggish conservative moralities that had an expiration date 50 years ago. Who the **** cares about transgender-touting-gender-fluidity quidnuncs and the snooty obsession with lurid personal endeavors of reputable people that made minor ****** transgressions in a world policed by wide-eyed feminazis that seek to ransack men of their vital virulence to spotlight their unjustifiable oppression. Women are oppressed but the carnal nature of their calumniation and their vindictive powers of persuasion are deployed with such vehement vigilance and such distaste for the majority that the world relegates itself to quibbles of celebrities rather than substantive issues. There is a systemic feminization of society occurring that seeks to demarcate despotic uxorious pleasantries as an incarceration of vocal dissent against supercilious women and their tamed men that slavishly grovel in repudiation of anything prickly.  Men historically have oppressed women but the solution to this quandary isn’t a reverse discrimination where the minority concern is spotlighted as a majoritarian issue that overshadows the disproportionate nature of our society where nominal accreditation is afforded in a non-meritocratic way to absolve people of their carnality and demote the vigorous defense of human liberty as secondary to compromise solutions that appease more people than they offend but simultaneously result in suboptimal conditions that reward arbitrarily coachable people while jettisoning anyone witty enough to be capable of insubordination of a hedonistic epicurean world obsessed with appearance and ravaged by the decadence of formulaic profiteering at the expense of originality and true promethean art that is herculean enough to defy hackneyed tropes and siphon the best elements from a piecemeal world variegated with complexity but stifled by fomented hatred.
The solutions to these problems is to create a watchdog group of artistic critics who become eminent and ubiquitously heard enough to offer creative consultation to the artistic endeavors that we consume and the music that is curated for fastidious ears that crave euphonic originality rather than the banality of easily dovetailed bass-heavy cookie-cutter garbage and the gaudy tactics of talentless rappers whose swagger derives from  the intersection of opportunism and the divestiture of an industry that rewards gloated supercilious epicureanism and meretricious marketability. Am I the only one jaded by second-rate superhero movies that infest the cinemas that borrow from Michael Bay while thrusting pulse-pounding but narratively bankrupt movies down the throats of consumers that might prize the cinematic originality of the heyday of filmmaking? Is it always high art to invent controversy that is witless or half-witted just because it will create buzz? Shouldn’t we condemn the laziness of society in acquiescing to the penury of the modern cultural narrative which belabors the dead horses of racism and sexism ad nauseum? Shouldn’t we fight the war of against inequity through legislation rather than hibernating about scandalous eminence and testy malfeasance?
          Liberty should be championed above all else and we are turning our backs on the future unless we muster the resolve to diminish the sway of the common narrative and aim our spotlight at consequential endeavors rather than the tropes of prosaic and pedestrian bastardization of art and culture. We need to fight artistic laziness which has ravaged our culture and castigate the tactics of wannabee celebrities that use lurid tactics to attract an audience by bedizening themselves with Pyrrhic ostentations and rampant fakery to create more melodrama in a world that needs to be less histrionic. YouTube celebrities swarm us as they get high on ******* and lean-- at our expense-- and vandalize property and convincing nine-year-old’s like Lil Tay to flex her money like it is infinitely renewable in a finite world where all our attention is wasted on artless artifice of less talented people that know how to engineer a ruckus by strutting themselves beyond all decency and selling out to a corporatist nightmare of enslaved convenience. We need to be more vocal about the dissolution of artistic merit and the formulaic repetition of successful formulas that jade us and make us yawn about another retread of a previously successful idea that is milked to the point of cruelty.                                                         ­                       
       Let’s change the narrative and focus on creating true art rather than reacting to the meretricious tinsel of the vogue consensus which is so impotent in its ability to rivet audiences because it has become so notoriously lazy. Fight laziness in art, dismiss your news feeds, be resourceful, seek true happiness rather than find yourself hoodwinked and duped by the idea that Trump is the most important issue or getting caught in thought loops and brooding about sexism and inequality. Let us strive to be egalitarian but within limits that would also appease hominists rather than just the hypertrophy of the leftist narrative that seeks to cage us with the doublespeak of complaisant conformity.  Reject the unctuous charlatans that pretend priggishness when their banausic purpose is barbaric but beguiling to be a lullaby for laggards. We need to fight for the future of civilization rather than hobnob with convenience and loiter around decrying false perpetrators rather than systemic injustices that could otherwise be rectified if enough people fought for it. We can invent a future that is a great festivity serenaded by cultivated artistic refinement and forget about the trifles that divide us. United in ambition and fueled by ingenuity we can defeat artistic laziness and be resourceful with how we decide what is newsworthy. Spurred by the argosy of proactive motivation we can change the world in a substantial way by deciphering the subtext that governs the world. The subtext is everything!
AAron Roz May 2018
Music is loud or quiet.
Music is soft or heavy.
Music can have meaning or not.
Music can be nothing or everything.
Music is:
◾Art Punk
◾Alternative Rock
◾College Rock
◾Crossover Thrash (thx Kevin G)
◾Crust Punk (thx Haug)
◾Experimental Rock
◾Folk Punk
◾Goth / Gothic Rock
◾Grunge
◾******* Punk
◾Hard Rock
◾Indie Rock
◾Lo-fi (hat tip to Ben Vee Bedlamite)
◾New Wave
◾Progressive Rock
◾Punk
◾Shoegaze (with thx to Jackie Herrera)
◾Steampunk (with thx to Christopher Schaeffer)

•Anime
•Blues ◾Acoustic Blues
◾Chicago Blues
◾Classic Blues
◾Contemporary Blues
◾Country Blues
◾Delta Blues
◾Electric Blues
◾Ragtime Blues (cheers GFS)

•Children’s Music ◾Lullabies
◾Sing-Along
◾Stories

•Classical ◾Avant-Garde
◾Baroque
◾Chamber Music
◾Chant
◾Choral
◾Classical Crossover
◾Contemporary Classical (thx Julien Palliere)
◾Early Music
◾Expressionist (thx Mr. Palliere)
◾High Classical
◾Impressionist
◾Medieval
◾Minimalism
◾Modern Composition
◾Opera
◾Orchestral
◾Renaissance
◾Romantic (early period)
◾Romantic (later period)
◾Wedding Music

•Comedy ◾Novelty
◾Standup Comedy
◾Vaudeville (cheers Ben Vee Bedlamite)

•Commercial (thank you Sheldon Reynolds) ◾Jingles
◾TV Themes

•Country ◾Alternative Country
◾Americana
◾Bluegrass
◾Contemporary Bluegrass
◾Contemporary Country
◾Country Gospel
◾Country Pop (thanks Sarah Johnson)
◾***** Tonk
◾Outlaw Country
◾Traditional Bluegrass
◾Traditional Country
◾Urban Cowboy

•Dance (EDM – Electronic Dance Music – see Electronic below – with thx to Eric Shaffer-Whiting & Drew :-)) ◾Club / Club Dance (thx Luke Allfree)
◾Breakcore
◾Breakbeat / Breakstep
◾Brostep (cheers Tom Berckley)
◾Chillstep (thx Matt)
◾Deep House (cheers Venus Pang)
◾Dubstep
◾Electro House (thx Luke Allfree)
◾Electroswing
◾Exercise
◾Future Garage (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Garage
◾Glitch Hop (cheers Tom Berckley)
◾Glitch Pop (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Grime (thx Ran’dom Haug / Matthew H)
◾*******
◾Hard Dance
◾Hi-NRG / Eurodance
◾Horrorcore (thx Matt)
◾House
◾Jackin House (with thx to Jermaine Benjamin Dale Bruce)
◾Jungle / Drum’n’bass
◾Liquid Dub(thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Regstep (thanks to ‘Melia G)
◾Speedcore (cheers Matt)
◾Techno
◾Trance
◾Trap (thx Luke Allfree)

•Disney
•Easy Listening ◾Bop
◾Lounge
◾Swing

•Electronic ◾2-Step (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾8bit – aka 8-bit, Bitpop and Chiptune – (thx Marcel Borchert)
◾Ambient
◾Bassline (thx Leon Oliver)
◾Chillwave(thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Chiptune (kudos to Dominik Landahl)
◾Crunk (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Downtempo
◾Drum & Bass (thx Luke Allfree)
◾Electro
◾Electro-swing (thank you Daniel Forthofer)
◾Electronica
◾Electronic Rock
◾Hardstyle (kudos to Dominik Landahl)
◾IDM/Experimental
◾Industrial
◾Trip Hop (thank you Michael Tait Tafoya)

•Enka
•French Pop
•German Folk
•German Pop
•Fitness & Workout
•Hip-Hop/Rap ◾Alternative Rap
◾Bounce
◾***** South
◾East Coast Rap
◾Gangsta Rap
◾******* Rap
◾Hip-Hop
◾Latin Rap
◾Old School Rap
◾Rap
◾Turntablism (thank you Luke Allfree)
◾Underground Rap
◾West Coast Rap

•Holiday ◾Chanukah
◾Christmas
◾Christmas: Children’s
◾Christmas: Classic
◾Christmas: Classical
◾Christmas: Comedy
◾Christmas: Jazz
◾Christmas: Modern
◾Christmas: Pop
◾Christmas: R&B
◾Christmas: Religious
◾Christmas: Rock
◾Easter
◾Halloween
◾Holiday: Other
◾Thanksgiving

•Indie Pop
•Industrial
•Inspirational – Christian & Gospel ◾CCM
◾Christian Metal
◾Christian Pop
◾Christian Rap
◾Christian Rock
◾Classic Christian
◾Contemporary Gospel
◾Gospel
◾Christian & Gospel
◾Praise & Worship
◾Qawwali (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Southern Gospel
◾Traditional Gospel

•Instrumental ◾March (Marching Band)

•J-Pop ◾J-Rock
◾J-Synth
◾J-Ska
◾J-Punk

•Jazz ◾Acid Jazz (with thx to Hunter Nelson)
◾Avant-Garde Jazz
◾Bebop (thx Mwinogo1)
◾Big Band
◾Blue Note (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Contemporary Jazz
◾Cool
◾Crossover Jazz
◾Dixieland
◾Ethio-jazz (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Fusion
◾Gypsy Jazz (kudos to Mike Tait Tafoya)
◾Hard Bop
◾Latin Jazz
◾Mainstream Jazz
◾Ragtime
◾Smooth Jazz
◾Trad Jazz

•K-Pop
•Karaoke
•Kayokyoku
•Latin ◾Alternativo & Rock Latino
◾Argentine tango (gracias P. Moth & Sandra Sanders)
◾Baladas y Boleros
◾Bossa Nova (with thx to Marcos José Sant’Anna Magalhães & Alex Ede for the reclassification)
◾Brazilian
◾Contemporary Latin
◾Cumbia (gracias Richard Kemp)
◾Flamenco / Spanish Flamenco (thank you Michael Tait Tafoya & Sandra Sanders)
◾Latin Jazz
◾Nuevo Flamenco (and again Michael Tafoya)
◾Pop Latino
◾Portuguese fado (and again Sandra Sanders)
◾Raíces
◾Reggaeton y Hip-Hop
◾Regional Mexicano
◾Salsa y Tropical

•New Age ◾Environmental
◾Healing
◾Meditation
◾Nature
◾Relaxation
◾Travel

­•Opera
•Pop ◾Adult Contemporary
◾Britpop
◾Bubblegum Pop (thx Haug & John Maher)
◾Chamber Pop (thx Haug)
◾Dance Pop
◾Dream Pop (thx Haug)
◾Electro Pop (thx Haug)
◾Orchestral Pop (thx Haug)
◾Pop/Rock
◾Pop Punk (thx Makenzie)
◾Power Pop (thx Haug)
◾Soft Rock
◾Synthpop (thx Haug)
◾Teen Pop

•R&B/Soul ◾Contemporary R&B
◾Disco (not a top level genre Sheldon Reynolds!)
◾Doo ***
◾Funk
◾Modern Soul (Cheers Nik)
◾Motown
◾Neo-Soul
◾Northern Soul (Cheers Nik & John Maher)
◾Psychedelic Soul (thank you John Maher)
◾Quiet Storm
◾Soul
◾Soul Blues (Cheers Nik)
◾Southern Soul (Cheers Nik)

•Reggae ◾2-Tone (thx GFS)
◾Dancehall
◾Dub
◾Roots Reggae
◾Ska

•Rock ◾Acid Rock (with thanks to Alex Antonio)
◾Adult-Oriented Rock (thanks to John Maher)
◾Afro Punk
◾Adult Alternative
◾Alternative Rock (thx Caleb Browning)
◾American Trad Rock
◾Anatolian Rock
◾Arena Rock
◾Art Rock
◾Blues-Rock
◾British Invasion
◾**** Rock
◾Death Metal / Black Metal
◾Doom Metal (thx Kevin G)
◾Glam Rock
◾Gothic Metal (fits here Sam DeRenzis – thx)
◾Grind Core
◾Hair Metal
◾Hard Rock
◾Math Metal (cheers Kevin)
◾Math Rock (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Metal
◾Metal Core (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Noise Rock (genre – Japanoise – thx Dominik Landahl)
◾Jam Bands
◾Post Punk (thx Ben Vee Bedlamite)
◾Prog-Rock/Art Rock
◾Progressive Metal (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Psychedelic
◾Rock & Roll
◾Rockabilly (it’s here Mark Murdock!)
◾Roots Rock
◾Singer/Songwriter
◾Southern Rock
◾Spazzcore (thx Haug)
◾Stoner Metal (duuuude)
◾Surf
◾Technical Death Metal (cheers Pierre)
◾Tex-Mex
◾Time Lord Rock (Trock) ~ (thanks to ‘Melia G)
◾Trash Metal (thanks to Pierre A)

•Singer/Songwriter ◾Alternative Folk
◾Contemporary Folk
◾Contemporary Singer/Songwriter
◾Indie Folk (with thanks to Andrew Barrett)
◾Folk-Rock
◾Love Song (Chanson – merci Marcel Borchert)
◾New Acoustic
◾Traditional Folk

•Soundtrack ◾Foreign Cinema
◾Movie Soundtrack (thanks Julien)
◾Musicals
◾Original Score
◾Soundtrack
◾TV Soundtrack

•Spoken Word
•Tex-Mex / Tejano (with thx to Israel Lopez) ◾Chicano
◾Classic
◾Conjunto
◾Conjunto Progressive
◾New Mex
◾Tex-Mex

•Vocal ◾A cappella (with kudos to Sheldon Reynolds)
◾Barbershop (with thx to Kelly Chism)
◾Doo-*** (with thx to Bradley Thompson)
◾Gregorian Chant (hat tip to Deborah Knight-Nikifortchuk)
◾Standards
◾Traditional Pop
◾Vocal Jazz
◾Vocal Pop

•World ◾Africa
◾Afro-Beat
◾Afro-Pop
◾Asia
◾Australia
◾Cajun
◾Calypso (thx Gerald John)
◾Caribbean
◾Carnatic (Karnataka Sanghetha – thx Abhijith)
◾Celtic
◾Celtic Folk
◾Contemporary Celtic
◾Coupé-décalé (thx Samy) – Congo
◾Dangdut (thank you Achmad Ivanny)
◾Drinking Songs
◾Drone (with thx to Robert Conrod)
◾Europe
◾France
◾Hawaii
◾Hindustani (thank you Abhijith)
◾Indian Ghazal (thank you Gitika Thakur)
◾Indian Pop
◾Japan
◾Japanese Pop
◾Klezmer
◾Mbalax (thank you Samy) – Senegal
◾Middle East
◾North America
◾Ode (thank you Sheldon Reynolds)
◾Piphat (cheers Samy B) – Thailand
◾Polka
◾Soca (thx Gerald John)
◾South Africa
◾South America
◾Traditional Celtic
◾Worldbeat
◾Zydeco
etc...
Michael Weinberg Apr 2015
I'm not caught in the mainstream
In fact I try to stay away from its banks
Because I know, that as soon as I set one foot in
I'll drown
The mainstream is fast, always moving
A current more like a highway
Once you're stuck, you're stuck
You need someone like me to throw you a life preserver
You see, I'm not worried about drowning necessarily
I'm more interested in the fact that,
While everyone else is zipping along a social waterway,
I'll be on dry land
More freedom
More air
But most of all, a different perspective
If the water's moving too fast,
No one can notice you
No one sees any difference between you, and someone else
You spend your life trying to keep up with the current
You're a fallen leaf floating in the water,
Never meeting dry land again
Until you stick to the side of the bank
And then what?
Would you continue on?
Keep going until the water weathers you down into a withered particle?
I can dream bigger, speak louder, stand out and be free on dry land
The mainstream leads nowhere
But I guess some people just like to swim
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
.do you really need a disclaimer, for this sort of work? no, not really... it's not exactly being allowed the equivalency of dropping an in excess of 2000mg of paracetamol.

the one aspect of legacy media, that still has some viability, akin to rekindling the famous extract from the movie: all the presidents men... is concerns for metal health issues of youngsters, who didn't have, the, "privilege" of being exposed to internet ergonomics, other than within the confines of gaming, they came far too late for, what replaced mp3 sharing.... ideas are not exactly sound-bites of copyright infringement...

**** me... do i really have to slap then punch
myself in the face, to remotely stay
awake while drinking ***** like pepsi
sharpshooters?
     i guess so...

   i too, "suffered" from roman bulimia,
the classical kind...
   don't ask me how i managed to make
the esophagus contender of the heart,
muscle...
                 at first it was cheap choc down
the throat, missing on brushing my
teeth for 48 hours...
   then... ******* down the throat,
like the ****-style gimmick of the Watergate
informant...
       came back up, bundled in quasi turds
packages...
               classical Roman bulimia -
eat, regurgitate, eat some more,
hell, now you have a Pompeii style
banquet of the coming of age...
laxatives?
that's no bulimia...
  bulimia is an extension of an ancient
Roman practice, akin to throwing yourself
****-naked into a nettle shrub area...
to get the "itches"...
     that method, involved in energizing
the neuron extension of the skin...
              it's a "placebo" itch...
   nettles, ancient Romans,
and bulimia like the rite of a loss of
virginity of kings...
      festering at its core... of the French court...
with a *****'s teaching apparatus,
leveraging the use of, a single "tool"...
           and even though the ancient Romans
never reached my people...
i get to abuse their phonetic encoding stratum...
bulimia... sure... i, "suffered" from it...
not really, no... i ******* enjoyed
the regurgitation process...
   anti-Grecian pederasty gimmick...
(a) taking a ****
   (b) oral regurgitation
   imitating an ancient Roman banquet
(c) / (d) ensuring the two entry points
are filled by an external source -
wishing for vanilla custard *******...
none to be...
    oops...
               so no one taught these girls
about ancient Roman bulimic
practices?
   you work on the esophagus...
                       by the time i finished
the transition period...
  i automated the esophagus reaction...
like training gymnastics for a six-pack...
no longer ******* down the throat...
you say charge? i think of
a rhino juggernaut...
           so no one bothered these girls
introducing ancient methodologies
to their predicament?
    no training of the esophagus,
no two (index + middle) fingers down
their throat to ease their larynx from
a gagging order?
    none of it?
   they'll grow out of it!
i did...
       drink a liter of ***** per day
and i'm feeling: shimmy!
          upon each nocturnal investment
that i translate into writing...
      anorexia?
    give them excess coffee...
              or strong cider...
      the most pristine aperitif...
    you can't cure anorexia with either
drips or syringes...
   you need aperitifs...
                     but please don't give them
white vinegar...
           you need a balance of alcohol
overcoming the sugars...
     strong beer is alcohol overcoming
starches... won't work...
     coffee and sugar helps...
  both simulate the pristine form of
the marijuana *****...
             it's not poison...
so why should i care?
   oh but i do care... reading this article...
troubled teenagers dodge Instagtram
   curbs on photos glorifying self-harm
...
ever tried burning out a cigarette tip
on your knuckle?
   ever wondered about
    warming up a hand of scissors and
giving yourself an indie tattoo?
   while at the same time...
relying on the mouse principle?
i.e. remaining pipsqueak clean from
making any noise?!
              cutting is so crass...
so unimaginative...
  you will not achieve the adrenaline *****
status of a stab-victim...
   there is no element of surprise...
but...
     if you really want to ingest pain?
hmm... hmm?
            heat up a scissor arm...
   and put it against your skin...
            and then... EAT... the pain...
with what you can surmount in and with,
silence...
                   cutting is too... dramatic...
at least burning yourself you have
not achieved the stature of a shedding blood...
cleaner, more effective,
think of orange recycling bags
collected at the start of the week...

              **** me though...
you seen the comradely behavior
of competing athletes, at the european
championships in Berlin,
   with the pole vaulters?
   Armand Duplantis -
congratulated for having crossed
the 6m benchmark of respectability...
now... that's sport!
football, soccer, basketball,
call it what you like...
   that's not sport, that's business,
that's advertisement...
     that's concussion cover-ups...

Epke Zonderland? also a doctor...
communist Poland believed in
sport, sport on the side,
   sport was never to reach status
of a mono-career investment...
            most of the local football
players from my hometown,
also worked less hours in
the metallurgy plant...
                  that's sport...
   a healthy balance...
which, mainstream sport is lacking...
oh look...
   the women doing the hammer throw,
or the discus...
   not exactly Vogue / Chanel catwalk
material...
    mandible beauties...

    to be honest? the doping affair
in the Olympic sports?
   but a minor setback of credibility...
     i rather watch that...
   than those pitiable 22 ballerinas in soccer.
Riot Mar 2014
i never knew that God wasn't significant
he's not an alibi
or a friend
he just doesn't get the jest of it
but the problem is
he's everything
you just don't know how to deal with it
knowing something that's not "mainstream"
wants you to give you everything
that's why i'm off the radar
no mainstream for me
because God is anything but mainstream
and i want him to be my everything
make God your everything
Big Virge May 2020
So Are You A... FOLLOWER of Trends... ?

Or Are You A... " Trendsetter "... ?

COME FORWARD MY SELECTOR... !!!!!!!!

BUT Mek' Sure You Come BETTER...
Than Playlists Set By Heads...
Whose Music TENDS To BEND...
To FIT With Trends That Lend......

Themselves To... " weaker blends "... !!!

Weaker... Beats...
Weaker... Bass Lines... !!!

Rifts That STINK of... " Weaker Minds "...
Than Those Who SNIFF Them ******* Lines... !!!!!

It Seems Some FIND Themselves... "CONFINED"... !!!
To... Toe The Line of CURRENT Vibes...

WHATEVER's Current... EVEN IF It's DUMB... ?!?
Seems To Be Concurrent With Tunes They... BUMP... !!!
Dumbed Down Drums That Now DON'T THUMP... !!!

But They Would Say...

"That's just the way
of trends that the young,
now want in clubs !" ...

Like GRIME They CLAIM Has...
... " CHANGED The Game ! "...
Changed The Game To WHAT ...
A Game That's... " Lame "... ?!?

Beats That NEED A ****** GOOD CLEAN... !!!
NOT The GRIMEY... of The NINETIES... !!!!!

It Seems The PLOT Has... " THICKENED "... !?!
To Trends Where Music's........................  MISSING.... !!?!!
What Old School Heads Were BRINGING.... !!!!
Beats That Kept Heads... RINGING... !!!

Sounds Now Seem Thin To Heads Like Me...
Like Men of TIN With NO... " Dorothy "... !!!
We See How Weak The Trends NOW BE... !!!

The Trend These Days Seems To Have Swayed...
To ANYTHING And EVERYTHING...
SEXUALLY... And MENTALLY... !?!

It's Fallacies That... HAPPILY...
Are Trends That Peeps'...
Now Seem To......... SEEK.............................. ?!?

Truth's Now Expressed...
Via... " Internet Trends "...

Well So it... " Seems "... ?!?

But What Kind of Truth Comes From A Group...
With TWIT At The BEGINNING of The Name They USE... !?!

I'm Just Asking Cos' ...
I'm A Twitter Head TOO... !!! ? !!!
But DON'T Let It CONSUME ...
My Views With FALSEHOODS... !!!

I'D Rather TRUST My Mental NOT Internet Feeds...
Or Mainstream INCIDENTALS Like... REALITY TV ... !!!!!

Or... TALENT Shows...
Where TRENDS They Hold Are TRULY Low... !!!!!!!

USING Wannabes' Like CLOWNS To Be...
RIDICULED... On TV Screens... !!!

That's Why NEW TRENDS Are Internet Led...
Because SMART Heads NOW HAVE The Sense...
To YES download What They Watch At Home...
Or THESE Days STREAM What They WANT To See... !!!!!

But Trends Like THESE AFFECT... Artistry...
When Art Becomes CHEAP Or Basically FREE... !!!!!

Unless It's... MAINSTREAM... !!!

So THESE Trends Are DETRIMENTAL...
To Those Whose INSTRUMENTALS...
Are Those That FEED The Streets...

NOT Heads At... " Companies "... !!!

Like Those FED By Their Marketing Teams... !!!

I Meant Marketing JERKS Who Let REAL ART Burn...
And In Turn SERVE To STOP Art Being Heard...
By MAINSTREAM Herds Who NOW Seem To Prefer...

... MANUFACTURED Works... ?!!!?

Instead of Art That's From The HEART... ?!?

Which Seems To Be Why A LOT of Artists STARVE...
When They DON'T Comply With TRENDS Or CHARTS... !!!!!

I'm Saying It's COOL That TRENDS Move ON... !!!
But They're A TOOL That's USED By Bods'...
To CONVINCE YOU of... What Is HOT... !!!!!!!!!

If I Played Marvin Gaye...
EVERY Single Day What Would You Say... ???

"That the music was lame,
because it's not new, and is too old school !"...

... You Should Be ASHAMED... !!!

YES Trends Will CHANGE...
But CLASSIC DOESN'T Change It's Name... !!!!!!!!!

Don't You Know What ROCKS Your Boat... ?
And ROCKS The Boat of THESE... " A - HOLES "... ?!!!?

It Seems Most... " DON'T ".... ?!?

Well It's Stuff That's STRONG And ROCKS Like KONG... !!!
And LIFTS HEADS Like... HITS From The ****... !!!!

YEAH Sounds Will CHANGE But Bass Is BASS... !!!
And In My View... Should SHAKE Like QUAKES... !!!!!

When They Are PLACED Onto Dub Plates...
Where Lyricism... Is HARD HITTIN'... !!!!!!!!!!
And Has ONE TREND... To FIT With Rhythms...

NOT IMPRISONED In A... "TREND"...
Because It's Made For DOLLARS And CENTS... !!!

There Was ONCE A Trend...
Where CREATIVE Meant... EXACTLY THAT... !!!!!
Making Tracks That SLAMMED At Jams...
And Made SURE That... Parties Were RAM... !!!!!

Because of SOUNDS...
That WEREN'T... "dumbed down"...
And... RADIO Friendly...
Now Trends Are SMELLY...
When They Should Be DEADLY...
In How They AFFECT...
Where Corporates SPEND...
Their... " Marketing Money "... !!!!!!!!!!!

Cos' The TRUTH Is THIS A Lot of MAINSTREAM HITS...
Gives PROOF That MONEY Makes People Act FUNNY... !!!
When It Comes To MUSIC And CREATIVE Gifts...
That They CLAIM To Be FIT To... " SET THE TREND "... !!!

I Guess That's Why Some Feel Like... " I "...
That GOOD MUSIC... Is HARD To Find... !!!

Because In The END The... " BOTTOM LINE "...
Has Become Less... About PHAT' Bass Lines...

It's Become... A DRAW...
For PROGRAMMED Chords...
And SCORES of ******... !!!!!!!
Who NOW Tread Boards...
WITHOUT Rocking Jaws........ ?!?

With HEAVY SOUNDS...
And Beats That POUND... !?!?!?!

It's MONEY That RULES What Tunes Get THROUGH...
But Here's Some Advice For The Young NEW SCHOOL...

DON'T Let FITTING IN CONTROL YOUR GROOVE... !!!
CREATE The Tunes That Sound GOOD To YOU... !!!

But... BEFORE You DO...
Take The Time To RECOGNISE...
That ALL That GLITTERS IS NOT Gold... !!!!!

DON'T SELL Your SOUL RESEARCH The... " Old "...
BEFORE You're TOLD How YOUR DREAMS Should Roll... !!!

WHATEVER YOU Create...
Try To Make It... GREAT... !!!!!!!!

NOT A Hit For TODAY That Gets.... " Airplay "....
But Gets THROWN AWAY The VERY NEXT Day... !!!?!!!

I'd Rather ENLIST...
CREATIVE Things That People RESPECT...
Rather Than EXPRESS...
Just To Get A... " PHAT' Cheque "... !!!!!

Because I'd Rather BE The Head...
Whose Artistry Is Led By QUALITY That... SETS...

And DOES NOT FOLLOW...

....... " TRENDS "......
Of course trends have always been a driving force behind what becomes popular, however, maybe it's time for heads to believe in the BIG Names and Corporations, just a little less ........
Ira Desmond Nov 2018
The downward momentum is clear to me now.
The engine has built up a full head of steam.
I’d try to stop it, if I knew how.

The fires of industry must burn on somehow;
they tend to burn brightest when fuel is extreme.
The downward momentum is clear to me now.

When currents are surging, we shouldn’t allow
the jingoist fringe to swim in the mainstream.
I’d try to stop them, if I knew how.

Civility means more than I can avow,
but poems can only allude to a theme:
The downward momentum is clear to me now.

Each click of a mouse that shouts holier than thou
is a cog in a treacherous clockmaker’s scheme.
I’d try to stop him, if I knew how.

We worshipped the circuit and forsook the plow
in search of a false technological dream.
Our downward momentum is clear to me now.
I’d try to stop us, if I knew how.
Ellen F D Mar 2019
The mainstream is changing,
Do you hear it’s call?
Structures once accepted,
Now begin to fall.

The mainstream is changing,
Do you see it form?
Conversations never had before,
Now become the norm.

The mainstream is changing,
Do you feel the flow?
Look around and look within,
And learn to just let go.

Let go and float wherever it takes you,
Let go of the stories told to break you,
Let go and allow the rapids to wake you.

The mainstream is changing,
Do you sense it too?
All there is to do is let go,
And the journey will find you.
Jake muler Mar 2016
The lifestyle of crime
Is no way to get by
Living the high life
Is fun for its while.

But in the end
It casts betrayers as friends.
Benedict arnold's with grins.
Happily they pretend
As your sitting in a hole
Of your own filth.

Watch for the dudes
Who call moms (****).
Watch for the girls
Who think makeup makes up
Themselves.

The lifestyle of shame
Just leads to more guilt.
Not relieving yourself.
But imprisoning by the
Weight.

Life's about decisions
The crime of self we can escape.
Though our minds are in constant state of ****
From mainstream society.

Though will you follow mainstream?
Reality?
Or imaginative beliefs?

The difference between the three
Decides your fate.
Change now
While Its not to late.
Giving another shot with different style tonight!
The Wicca Man Jul 2013
I could answer your questions with a simple, off-the-cuff explanation but have ended up writing this essay: the more I thought about what you’d asked, the more the I felt it warranted a fuller explanation so I will try to explain why I call myself a Wiccan and how I come to be following the Wicca Path. And apologies in advance for the length of this!

As well as my love of Literature, I love History with a similar passion. My degree was in English and History and although I specialised in Shakespearian and post-Shakespearian literature and Modern History, I have a long held fascination with Celtic and pre-Celtic history, beliefs and spirituality. It is the mysticism of the Old Religion that seemed to attract me most and I found myself drawn particularly to the Celtic and Welsh mythology and have read extensively about it: Cornwall and Wales (mid Wales in particular) are my two favourite places in the world. I have read a lot about Celtic and pre-Celtic history, beliefs and religion over the years, both fiction and non-fiction.

Although Jewish by birth, I was brought up by my father who was a confirmed atheist so I lost out on any formal religious influence as I was growing up. Perhaps because of his views, I developed a distrust of formal, mainstream religion. That’s not to say I felt I had no spiritual beliefs at all, it’s just they were untapped and unidentified; I felt I was reaching out for something but it never took on any tangible form, rather like in a dream when you cannot see clearly the faces or forms of the inhabitants of your dreams.

By the time I got into my forties, I realised there was something seriously lacking in the spiritual side of my life. These beliefs were compounded by three events:

    * reading James Lovelock's Gaia theory [which inspired me to write one of my favourite stories, Gaia's Last, published here];
    * my discovery of Jean Auel's Earth's Children series of books , Clan of the Cave Bear, etc. which go into extraordinary detail of Cro-Magnon peoples' belief in nature spirits, worship of The Mother and Shamanism;
    * a sudden change in my circumstances that forced me to re-evaluate every aspect of my life and my existence.

It was at this time I began to research the Old Religion: paganism, nature-worship, whatever you want to call it, and this led me to discover Wicca.

The more I read about it, the more I realised it fitted in with my current state of mind and outlook on life. Maybe there is a sense of escapism inasmuch as the roots of Wicca look backward to a simpler time and as I was having difficulty coping with the complexities of the changed circumstances in my life at the time. Wicca seemed to offer exactly the spiritual needs I was lacking.

That is not to say that Wicca is old-fashioned and out of date. Rather the contrary in fact. Whilst its roots acknowledge the Old Religion, Wicca is relatively modern having been developed by a guy called Gerald Gardner who published a book called Witchcraft Today in the 1940s I believe which re-established in the public eye the old pagan beliefs that have been around since the dawn of man. These beliefs never really disappeared even through the worst of the atrocities perpetrated against followers of the Old Religion [The Burning Times ]. (And just to make an important point about the title of the book and Wicca in general, Witchcraft in the pagan and Wicca context is NOT Black Magic or Satanism as the tabloid press or mainstream religion would have you believe; it could not be further from them. It is simply an acknowledgement of the existence of natural forces that can be used or channelled by those who choose to learn these ancient skills).

I have seen Wicca [and other forms of Paganism] referred to as Green Magic and that seems the perfect definition; it is immensely comforting to work so closely with the natural world and to feel such a part of it.

So for me, Wicca is an ideal spiritual antidote for the impossibly fast-paced, self-serving lifestyles we all seem to be caught up in these days, often through no choice of our own. It is as valid a belief system as any other practised throughout the world and is nothing like the forms of Wicca popularised in the media with TV shows like Charmed and its ilk!

Wicca is it is not something to be taken on lightly - Wicca practices should be treated with the same reverence as those in any other belief system. It requires study, practice and dedication.’

I have to confess to have been lacking in all three since I originally wrote this so have vowed to myself to rectify these shortcomings. I feel excited about my rekindled sense of spirituality and more at peace with myself for making this decision.

Go in Love & Light!
I hope people don't object to my posting this; I am a passionate believer in freedom of speech and of expression. I hope people here are open to these views, which are mine and in no way do I want to foist my views on anyone or indeed, cause offence.
Keep the new flame burning
You have reason to be proud
We were there to hear you singing
Your voice was clear and loud.
We knew that you would get there
And still you can go far
Keep your dreams glowing
And you could become a star.
Keep your feet on solid ground
Don't look left or right
Rome the ancient City
Wasn't built there overnight.
We were there in the beginning
And will stay untill the end
Just travel along your music world
Who knows what's around the bend.
You may not be in the mainstream
Just go and follow your heart
Keep that new flame going
Along with your musical art.
Now we will stand behind you
And will pull your every string
Your songs will keep on flowing
We just love to hear you sing.
Many artist never make it into the mainstream of the music world
But that doesn't mean that they are not highly talented.
Many just don't get that break.this poem is for them and there fans.
Most humans drink coffee and wine
They consume television and mainstream novels
They feed their souls with popularity contests and safe relationships

But poets
We could not survive without passion, intensity, and meaning
Everything we feel is felt to the depths of our souls
We are the ones to put into words the unspeakable pain of heartbreak
The incomprehensible joy of falling in love
We are the ones brave enough to say out loud the diaries of a thousand souls

Us poets
We drink tea and whiskey
I was given bad cards to deal with
so don't ask why im a misfit?
suckas on the biscuit  quick to scheme
Triple beam
floatin' in the mainstream enemies on the same team
as you me and we
can't do nothin' about it gotdamn Uncle Sam
takin' everythang from food water to pestilences
im straddlin' the fence
barely can get over these challenges big as boulder
death peepin' over my shoulder been told ya
times is runnin' before we awakin' the red dragon
stabbin' deep in ya intellect bleed through knowledge
as i hit ya intravenously it ain't no mystery
thangs aint where they suppose to be puffin' greenery
to eas my mind and soul losin' control
cuz media allegories got us in fold celebrities sold
out there lives for gold made of sand
and silvers made of clay can't find no brighter days
cuz darkness lurkin' everywhere i stare
deep into the heaven
askin' why we all gotta die? seems easier to sin then
live righteous i might just adjust my mind
but i can't
 feedin' bird off crumbs government scums o how come?
none of us start a gun bust rivals always get the best of us
while we steadily fightin' over petty aggression
i think to myself while we blastin' at each other
theyre signing' the cession big recession really a mild depression
so when we gone get together and change the scene
they takin' everything but too many love floatin' in the mainstream
thats why!!!!
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2016
this will make sense in the end, or at least along the way... a modern version of the Ruben's judgement of Paris, although if you watch the debate, the mediator already insinuates the "confusion": to my left or to my right, ha ha, left to right, right to left, 1st 3rd 2nd... that's putting it mildly, if i were Paris i'd have given the apple of knowing to Hera, queen of the goddesses... naomi wolf... beauty is in the eye of the beholder... and your phallus in the hand of... mhmm... softer than the flesh of an oyster at the end of the day... they did say once in times just after Pericles: make my inner as beautiful as my outer, and my outer as beautiful as my inner... then take art as not representing images: or the "shallow" arguments... any man would have given the apple to the intellectual Aphrodite (karen straughan)... we all know that antigone darling is Athena: who speaks so little you start to equate wisdom to be a distant synonym of needing courage to engage with a plebiscite crowd... oh don't give that prize to her: she'll probably tongue-tie herself and will never be able to speak into a microphone, the intellectual Aphrodite knows all too well the conundrum... it's the cougar attired in crimson that fuels the whole debate... she doesn't need to have inner beauty, you phallus is already shouting 'sir! yes sir!' at the drill sergeant anyways... you take Aphrodite as a paradoxical beauty, namely that of long conversations and not long interludes of ******* and baking cookies... you'll leave Aphrodite confused... i once heard an English motto: don't take for a wife a woman that's too attractive... that wasn't intended to be within the bias of intellect, i mean a beautiful woman within the bias of being able to manage a harem of 72 male virgins... well **** yeah, artists leave clues, whether knowing or unknowing... they're working from triangles, poets end up writing from Δ, they obscure textures and antonyms of what appears to be monochromatic, we say: red, crimson, burgundy in x-ray confines... the point being: there's no intellectual debate to be had with someone representative metaphorically or not of Hera... you can't have a Parisian fashion week catwalk where you find dehydrated beauty on the outside and an anorexic ego on the inside... what you find in Hera is a volume (voluptuousness) on the inside, within which there's a leech libido that transgresses all demands for intellect... unless it's pistons-well-oiled orientated... please, read some Marquis... if you get an ******* having read a few of his works: you're qualified - or as i like to call it: neo-classical *******... ever masturbated over Bronzino's Venus, Cupid, Folly and Time? well, if you haven't i guess **** ******* and gang-banging is your outlet: mine are pictures of Aria Giovanni and Chloe Vevraire (googlewhack no. 3!): Chloe Vevrier... but if you're never done the Odysseus pokes fun at Polyphemus... yep: the ghost hand: nobody!


you know, you can cram a lot into a 30 hour "day",
which results in the complete erosion
for the capacity to dream afterwards,
to actually work from the unconscious and create
a subconscious medium vector that connects
to points of consciousness: 30+ hours awake,
however many hours asleep, and then awake again
for another 30+ "day" to digest...
the classical definition of the subconscious, in theory,
is that you get plenty of sleep,
and it's a bit like that schematic A x B (algebraic)
A knows x     and B knows x...
   something mutual acknowledgment
via the same schematic but
A knows x, B knows x,
A knows that B knows x,
A knows that B knows that A knows x,
   which is all very Aristotelian to be frank,
it's this hyperlogic of having to acquire
great technological feats and reduce such
complexities to cat-videos on the internet as
the Egyptian partake in the genius that actually
made it possible... the slogan goes
Moses, you fool! said Nefertiti...
    so B knows x and knows that A knows x
and knows that A knows that B knows x
and B knows it's not necessarily anywhere
alphabetically less, even though the French said
a, b, c... which was very imperial of them,
that's the imperial version of what the mathematical
imperialism proved with the English inches, miles
and furlongs... but in this French case of imperialism
it wasn't a e i o u, b c d f g h j...
            that's what 30 hours awake does to you,
you wouldn't think of alcohol as a party drink,
a social barrier deconstruct... after 30 hours
you're hoping to meet Vladimir Klitschko on your
way to bed... aye pleasing Cossack, give us a
smacker goodnight... one glove it filled with
whiskey, the other with naproxen and amitriptyline...
boom! k.o. snooze, baby:
you gotta love buddhist honesty...
at least you get to see the bright side of life...
  and if people start thinking that Kant was the harbinger
of ill fate... you obviously haven't met a necromancer...
it was only von Kleist for ****'s sake!
       and he had the American option of a suicide
pact with a terminally ill woman and a bullet from
a pistol in a ditch... you can't get more romantic than that...
and there i was, mid-afternoon, having done a few of
the household chores: the washing, the ironing and
cooking a two-course meal while my mother did
the taxes (seems only mothers understand their sons
these days... women my age?
   ever see David Attenborough describe Emperor
penguins? money was invented for women,
because it brokered the end of the brotherhood of man,
we became famished by feminine needs
and have reduced inherent sports in us (hunting)
to sledgehammer bashing entertainment...
i'm the "drunk" that would rather watch ten hours
worth of ping-pong that tennis...
    i don't know why they resurrect the Olympics
every four years, have a **** coverage of it anyway
and then go back to that Glaswegian diet
of deep-fried pizza and haggis... and i hope to never know,
maybe Sepp Blatter knows...
but that's 30 hours of being awake, and only not
able to relax, by writing...
                 you wouldn't see this sort of "abuse" of
alcohol anywhere in the world...
the Soviet sleep experiment is actually not that silly...
too much sleep can also make you feel the minutes
upon your wake as if you've been stung by a bee...
three of my all time favourite songs?
the stone roses'* i wanna be adored,
    chromatics' cherry,
and finally: i can be forgiven for having missed this,
i got into them seriously with the album aufheben
and didn't really move anywhere else,
the dandy warhol effect got me...
but this song out of obscurity, 20th century technology
translated into mp3 and then onto c.d. and then
back into mp3... a song from an album that doesn't
even appear on their discography...
the brian jonestown massacre's pol ***'s pleasure penthouse,
the song in question? fingertips.
so there's that three...
      but **** on me, i half expected android (2015)
to be like ex_machina (whatever year that was)...
same topic... what the difference between android
cyborg and robot?
                                  aren't robots the proper a.i.?
as in: in production, the thing that's not hand-crafted
is artificially crafted, because it is crafted to a large yield
of a product? isn't that so? i can't distinguish (as of yet)
the difference between android and cyborg, i guess
as a Latin man (a - z user) i have to condescend the Grecian
pompousness of demeaning Hebrews (original anti-semitism
originated in Greece, not Rome, the Romans gave
the Jews not elaborate architectural schemes to abide by
in honour of Octavian, but the supposed pride in Greek
thought, undermined what later science would provide
a Latin man with, given the translation of יחֵוָחֵ,
indeed variables... i once wrote a piece about
the two Adams... namely how אָ (alef)
and עַ (ayin) are prominent letters among consonants,
but no vowel kindred of Eve is equal...
or how Eve is covered in both mainstream Islam
and orthodox Judaism... and Christianity is
a Rastafarian dream for more jerky reggae reggae...
they never sing down with Rome, judgement upon
Rome... they always sing about Babylon...
well, polytheistic or poly-schismatic,
it's all Hindu from hereon in - apart from that
here's a very tiny heresy... is that yod he vav he
or is it yod he vav het?
         there is a difference, afterall:
he (ה)        and het (חֵ) obviously differ... oh!
xet!                   god this garden is a mess,
               i guess the fruit of knowing good from evil
was intended to say: till the land, deforest,
learn agriculture... that's good, the **** you do to each
other... well: that's hardly a tonne of grain...
but they so alike though, even when you apply a noun
to these two symbols!
  could have said he xet but instead it's known as he het:
no wonder the Hittites came along for a curious look...
mind you, had not a prominent Roman, a centurion,
asked for help... we'd be prudish in runic from the northern
invaders... so thankfully no one within the Roman confines
of encoding sounds didn't have the bright spark idea
of looking at the very tiny little island of Israel and that
four lettered word and how it became known
to say o = omicron, ε = epsilon and γ = gamma,
   and cutting those things apart leaving only letter
having done plastic surgery on the noun that denotes the
letter that's denoted by the symbol, rearranged it
and got the idea of εγo: ****** marvellous!
- this is not brian pallenberg's story about the pleasure
penthouse album...
but you know what really got me in those 30 hours:
day, night, day, night: a NHLF debate between
naomi wolf, karen straughan & antigone darling,
the part where karen makes the point that
once upon a time men who beat their wives
in Scotland were publicly whipped (dhaal,
straugan), and if they were beaten-up instead by
their wives, a plebiscite of good-wishers would turn up
at the house and apply the Freudian theory of
a castration to the man, bang pots and pans,
and then in public display him having to ride on a
donkey backwards, having to hold the donkey's tail
for stability...
     see that woman in red in that debate? a true political
man-eating beast of ***** readied in atom bomb
explosions... the one next to her isn't wearing any tights...
unconsciously you're thinking: i like her french freestyle
of not having shaved her legs... the smart one is wearing
jeans and she looks oh so desperate to get out...
    the discussion doesn't even enter the realm of ideas...
hen-picking is discussed... all poetry ascribed to language
is gone... is it politically correct to ascribe the sexuality
of female chickens with the word hen to women?
behind me in Blackpool stag-dos (dos? no does...
there isn't even a ******* spelling for that phrase...
hen-nights and the inflatable Juan)...
well obviously your mind is working out why you'd
**** the middle 'un right away... she doesn't say divorcee
which is so "unsexy" but say she's a mum twice,
a mum, a single mum... polly wants a *******...
her address is new york city? ******! i'm heading there,
right now! can a white guy use urban colloquial
in the suburbs on a piece of pixel paper, which he claims
is mere the cartesian extension of his thought
and disinterest in rhetorical skills? i hope so...
it's not like herr adolf wrote a disclaimer saying:
read this or a thousand volts up your ****!
that really was a constipated debate, plus the red was all
provocateur and peppered with "you know",
   and "i know absolutely nothing": there were no ideas
in the debate! whenever there was a chance to debate
ideas, the debate turned into a debated about words,
and what words to use: to simply brush aside any clinching
to a idea-debate... perhaps because feminism is
an ideology without any coherency of ideas, as stated
from the debate: a coherency of wording: and that better
be hen = an asexual chicken, rooster = an asexual chicken...
it's still a chicken kiev at the end of the day.
now? i might squeeze in another poem...
     but it would still be great to get any kind of analysis
comparing the movie android and ex_machina...
the only problem would be: both creators are men...
so that's gender-stereotyping already...
but hell! she gets to build a buggie that she directs with
a laser pen... so that's nice...
but i'd love a discussion on these two films,
given that the music in both films is very oomph!
thriller genre always had better music than horror...
horror music is too romantic... thriller music?
***** back-stabbing you whenever you think you're
going to get a comfortable 10 minute slot...
but it's there... aside from both robotic creators being male...
woman: ex_machina - out of the machinery of man
          ergo? deus, or woman as...
i actually have a problem with the word android...
the woman is a factor of playing the two men against
each other... the android actually find a mechanical
part of himself in the way the "human" talks to the woman,
while the "android" is prejudiced against the rigidity
of his ****** movement: unlike the "human" having
an intellectual rigidity... the woman plays the two against
each other... well, 30 hours no sleep...
  i'm doing the helter-skelter trying to throw ideas
by way of remembering the actual plot of the film...
this obviously adds nothing to the discussion:
meaning i probably gave away a "spoiler" -
but more the point, i need a refill and some fresh air
to breath, having farted into a leather chair for the past
hour.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2018
.like any western, but unlike every western... the true grit... one eyed... it's not called: i'm blinking... it's called... the blink. the English language can never have... what is it... gender neutrality? the words are already gender neutral! the words in the English are neither masculine, or feminine... it's ******* to ask for something that's already in place! you know what obstructs the gentrification of words in the English language? how the sun is not feminine and the moon is not masculine? the articles... the English orientated their language around a-the        slightly missing the -ism... the English didn't create their language with a gender orientation of nouns, but other European languages orientated their nouns around gender inclusiveness... but you can't just... change the ******* grammar... call a triangle a ******* rhombus on a whim that belongs in the asylum... blah blah do ****... is this how civilized language is supposed to disintegrate into?! this is not religion... you can't simply replace grammatical dogma with heretical "protestantism" to gain something counter to 1 + 1 = 2, or a + t + t + e + s +t = attest... yes, confirm... what with that the politicians are doing in Canada... post-nationalism? post-nationalism, ensured with a post-grammatical structure of what should be the post-nationalist playground of the use of language? the two... together?! so... no nationalism, and no grammar... seems about the right time to separate the state from the state... and call the following dynamic: juggle act: catch one if you can! how can you expect to change the grammatical sub-structure of English?! nouns are not gentrified in the equivalent ontology of other, European languages! how can you expect gender neutrality... when the nouns of said language... are already gender neutral!? and that's because English is particular in the definite (the) and the indefinite (a) article articulation... this is the crux... the pivot... as to why nouns are not associated with either femininity or masculinity... which is why i didn't learn French in high-school... i was taught French from the rubric of grammar... i was taught the rules, before i was being taught to speak, and break the rules of speaking English... who the **** requires to learn a language, having to learn the arithmetic of lettering in the encompassing genesis of staging a craft of the linguist with, said grammar?! language is not universal... noun is no surd... verb is no integer... je suis is no 1 + 1 = 2... but like i said before... you're talking about pandering to linguistic retards... they might not be mad enough to enjoy the rainbow plethora of pharmacology... but sure as ****... they're linguistic retards... sorry, the saddest truth is... somehow... the most fun to attest in concurrence; oh right... that western, true grit... well... whether you're John Wayne or Jeff Bridges... one eye still intact? it's not a blinking... it's called the blink... no, and it's not even a blink... see how English is fascinating when singularity and pluralism enters the arena of the direct / indirect articulation? and to think the English wanted to debate a non-existent gender association of nouns that the French, the Polaks can have... but you sorry *******... ain't getting it!

so...

    a juggling act...

(insert a snigger)

   lindsay shepherd's
video: exposing grad school
(my m. a. experience)

and...............

         bon jovi's
blaze of glory

       bon jovi! wooooooooooooo!

god, i'm so stereotypical.
i should have signed up
becoming a side-burner
for some ******* Kentucky
redneck.

p.s. is stereotypical
synonymous
with predictable?
that's actually a genuine question
of, rather than answering the question
itself, answering the per se
curiosity; savvy?

so what is it... Bub "the blue" Clí 'n' Son?
***** needin'
to ****?
watcha gonna do Bub?
               hold up the, "spanker"?!

---------------------------------------

and some days, in england, and it's june,
and 10pm feels like 7pm in some other season
and it reminds me of the white nights
of st. petersburg....
   insomnia and ******* a girl for seven hours...
oh the ******* bit was fun,
don't get me wrong,
   i had to wait 2 weeks before she let me
do it to her in the bath...
****** ready... she was on her period,
but misguided:
  last time i heard...
            ******* on a period eases
the period pains...
      eh... gritty flesh bits on the rubber...
problem? what problem?!

    no wonder then: i hate drinking buddies...
people dumb down upon ingesting
alcohol, i'm talking: 2D objects in 3D space
akin to fern bushes in the 1st tomb raider
(black holes - a paradox,
   a 2D object spinning really fast in
an infinite 3D space... copernican east?
copernican west? i hope the rabbi knows)...

days like this, oh all the days like this...
when you wake up,
jump out of bed... and dance naked in your
room listening to KULT's
          brooklyńska rada Żydów -
two music genres i never got into:
punk and rap...
   well... "mediocre" punk...
   californian, the offspring,
  the usual suspects of the ramones,
*** pistols, stiff little fingers, mainstream *******...
ska... now we're talking...
hip hop contra rap: now we're talking...

such a beautiful day...
    a chestnut mushroom cream sauce with
snippets of turkey, of course the fresh parsley...
bay leaf, one clove, two all-spice buds...

    and... i'm really tired of looking up
h'america's ***...
    i sometimes thank god that i'm not
english for the sole reason that i don't have
to mind the "special relationship",
like i'm being owed or owning someone
for the respects of sharing the same lingo...

you want the other "special relationship"?
it began with Casimir III...
east... well: central europe...
eastern europe without borders,
purely geographic: is situated somewhere
in russia...
          borders condense...
last time i visited the home away from home
i found new music...
pablopavo i ludziki...
             the polonaise and the jews...
how many terrorist attacks in poland
while the islamists were having a funfair
elsewhere? gullible schvabs and swedes...
  (swabians, that's a slang for the ol' deutsche
deutsche back east - kacap ('tss wet snare
on the c) for the russians)...
       0...
                  funny (even)...
the map of recent terrorist attacks...
     and... the map of the spread of the bubonic
plague... a certain region remains
immune...
       even i agreed with my uncle:
better the catholic ******* than islamic
propaganda... mind you...
        sh'ite islam: thumbs up!
always pay due dues to the underdogs...
and if islam truly was a religion
to gobble up all other religions...
      a schism over such a petty affair
including Ali - the son in law of Muhammad
and Muhammad breaking his promise...

    oy vey!
     how else was i going to get out of bed
to dance naked to anything
but the ska song: brooklyńska rada Żydów?
what other option?
      black ox orkestar's bukharian?
                                             oy vey!
funny story from amsterdam...
me and this egyptian were sharing a hostel
room with these two germans,
who wasted 'shrooms on sitting indoors
watching h'american dad...

   we took a different route...
   he smoked, i drank, he had a bottle of
***** with him,
architect, i can't remember his name,
a keen eye for grand doodles in a notebook...
but then i decided to take a ****
after a few beers while he put
headphones into my ears and played
me le trio joubran's - masar...
        i even managed to attract the attention
of a dutch girl who seemed...
rather gobsmacked...
   i literally went into the nod-state
associated with ****** junkies...
but with eyes closed and mouth agape...
feeding off the ****** of the void...
i.e. the ****** of the void?
    when you're not chained to thinking...
the self disintegrates,
              thinking disintegrates...
and with the music: the void became
pulverizing me with vibration after
vibration echoing a chanced comparison
to a heart-beat mingling with
the fuzzy rippling and vibrating effect of
   the eye-sight of some insect...

yes yes... blah blah...
    boasting... boasting my ***...
am i here to feel sorry for myself,
to drown in my take on some perfect love
i could offer?
      no really...
               i've always had the two best
companions to begin with...
my shadow and a blank piece of pixel
paper perfectly coupled to my idle /
itchy finger-tips...
   well, a third: ms. amber...
                         i learned over a year ago
that drinking with familiar people
****** me off... drinking with strangers?
oh sure, great time...
the best times when drinking in public
are with strangers...
"friends" (fwends) are just too nostalgic,
they want to remind you of something,
notably some micro-aggression nonsense
of a past grievance...
                   don't drink with "friends"...
every time i did: i would wake up
the next morning *******...
cursing them, putting on a mocking voice...

me me me... oh poow meeeeeeeeeeee...
   *******...
               so? i learned to adapt in
liking my own company...
it's not much, but sure as **** beats
listening to a bunch of drunken, nagging housewives;
i'm pretty sure a man should have been
in that slot of the space between my
3rd and 4th pint of guinness;
alas! not to be!
Jaide Lynne May 2014
I’m often asked why I don’t like to wear shoes.

My usual reply is that when I am barefoot I feel more grounded.

Now when I say that people take it one of two ways; they either think it is a joke, or they think it has some really profound meaning.

Maybe I don’t like shoes because maybe I never learned my lesson when I would cut the bottoms of my feet on sharp rocks. Maybe I should have realized that shoes are a good idea when I burned my feet on hot pavement not once, but twice.

Maybe it’s because I like the feeling of cold mud in the spring and hot sand in the summer.

Or I just don’t like wearing any ******* shoes.

Maybe the it is way that stepping grass reminds me of home, and stepping in snow also reminds me of home because I grew up in Maine, where 2 ft of snow is just your average wednesday.

Or possibly it’s how I can tell which room of my house I am in by the way the floor feels.

Maybe it’s how when I climb tree’s barefoot I end up with scratches all over me, but being so high reminds me of how hard the climb is but how beautiful the view is once you get there.

Shoe may just be too mainstream for me...

Maybe I want to feel more connected to my ancestors who didn’t wear shoes.

It may be that wish to a tree, that I wish that my bare feet would become roots tying me to the one place where I belong.

It may be that I wish I was a dog because they don’t have to wear shoes.

I might not like feeling confined. Maybe it’s a symbol for how I wish to be free, when I don’t wear shoes it’s a call for help.

Maybe I am brave, putting my feet in danger. Or maybe I am just really frickin stupid, and I am starting to think it’s the latter. Especially when I end up breaking my toes, or cutting my feet, or burning them on the roads because I was too lazy or too dumb to put any shoes on.

Or maybe I am just cracking a joke about bare feet and the ground (and people over analyze the smallest things)...
“Even the streets leading up to its outer barriers were roamed by gorilla-faced guards in black uniforms, armed with jointed truncheons.”
                                                    ­ George Orwell, 1984* (published in 1949)

Which brings us, of course, to the subject of torture since 1949.
Come with me to the Casbah, Babaloo.
We begin in the 1950s with the French in North Africa,
****** baguettes in Algeria,
Couilles frits, anyone?
Electrodes wired to Mustapha’s *****.
And "Bigeard's Shrimps,” as the bodies were called,
Dumped over the Mediterranean from aircraft,
All things considered a je ne sais quoi,
Though Camus and Sartre gave it a whack.

Then the 1960s: the CIA dabbling in mind-control and LSD.
Later, a Phoenix Program,
Very secretive, sympathies with the Cong required,
Various elders selected,
The village disinfected,
**, **, ** and a bowl of Pho.

Apartheid anyone?
Thirty years of South African terror & torture.
Torment in the townships,
Shaka Zulu gold and diamonds,
De Beers in Swaziland swing.

1971: riots at Attica,
Prisoners abused and tortured,
Rockefeller’s overcrowded slammer,
An upstate New York katzenjammer,
Nelson’s finger on the trigger,
39 dead and counting,
But who’s counting?

The CIA, back in the news in 1973,
Torture chambers under Chilean soccer stadiums,
And the Khmer Rouge:
Those Wacky Cambodians with skull racks.  
And let us not forget the British,
With centuries of colonial experience behind them,
Occupy six counties in Northern Ireland.
Finally codify the imperial process,
The Five Techniques:
Sounds like a Motown group,
Satin smooth colored boys,
But more method than music:
(1) Wall-standing,
(2) Hooding,
(3) Subjection to noise,
(4) Sleep deprivation,
(5) No food and drink.

And there’s a bunch of horrible ****,
We still don’t know about the Argentine ***** War,
And other Mai Lai-like,
****-fest massacres in Vietnam.

How about torture since 1984?
Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo,
Come quickly,
(www.prematureejaculatorsanonymous.com)
To mind,
As do US-sponsored rendition facilities,
Spread throughout the NATO alliance.
And closer to home, it’s never a dull moment in the 5 Boroughs:
Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, The Bronx and Manhattan.
Take your pick from Giuliani’s Greatest Hits,
Rudy Kazootie’s campaign of law and order,
Not necessarily in that order.
More awful than lawful,
A bathroom plunger rammed up,
The Haitian voodoo ****** of Abner Louima,
While he be handcuffed at a Brooklyn station house.
Or, the NYPD partying like it was 1999.
When in fact, it was1999,
And a curious death it was for Amadou Diallo,
Would-be American citizen from The Republic of Guinea,
(No connection to Italy or Italians),
Abner & Amadou: a pair of cautionary tales,
Either/or reflecting standard procedure for the Po-Po,
Time and time again from coast to coast.
Either/or: poor Abner, no Haitian Papa Doc.
Poor Amadou, on his way home from night school,
When police squeeze off 41 rounds,
Most of them in his direction,
Hitting him 19 times.
Just the facts, ma’am:
Diallo had reached into his jacket.
A trigger-happy police officer yells “Gun.”
A jungle warfare quartet springs into action:
Shenzi, Banzai, Ed & Zazu,
Four equally trigger-happy colleagues,
Empty their weapons.
No gun was found on Diallo,
Only the wallet he tried to pull out,
Containing his Green Card,
4 U.S. dollar bills;
And a laminated,
Credit card-sized copy of the U.S. Bill of Rights.
(I just didn’t know when to quit, did I?
The wallet was there with Green Card and the bucks,
But I made up the part about the Bill of Rights,
Trying to add poetry to tragedy, as usual.)

I don’t have to say much about Rodney King (RIP).
You watched it on TV a hundred times,
And a picture’s worth a thousand words.
Or ten thousand or a million, I suppose.
“Can’t we all just get along?” asked Rodney Glen King.

Last but not least there’s Kelly Thomas (RIP),
Another incidence of police insanity,
It was July of 2011 in Fullerton, California.
Thomas, a 37-year-old homeless man,
Schizophrenic, but unarmed,
Beaten to death at a bus depot,
During an altercation with six Fullerton police officers.
Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2019225/Kelly-Thomas-Poli­­ce-beat-taser-gentle-mentally-ill-homeless-man­-death.html#ixzz1e­3­4QnHtr

Mervyn Lazarus | Attorney | (www.mervlazarus.com) Police Brutality, Excessive Force and Jail Injury cases | California . . . Albuquerque

Jackie Chiles perfect attorney -YouTube, (www.youtube.com/watch?v=jpcEietIoxk) Nov 17, 2010 - 13 min - Uploaded by Kroeger22 All the scenes with Jackie Chiles from Seinfeld."Chiles is a parody of famed attorney Johnnie Cochran; both ... www.seinfeld.com

Perhaps the greatest torture of all,
Is that which artists subject us to.
Let us examine the case of Roberto Bolaño:
Roberto Bolaño, the great Chilean writer,
Tells a fabulous World War II story,
About a Spaniard--an Andalusian--
Fighting for the Germans against the Russians.
Captured by the Russians,
He is tortured for information.
The Spaniard speaks no Russian,
He knows only four words of German.
The Russian interrogators strap him into a chair,
Attach electrodes to his *****,
Attach pincers to his tongue.
The pain makes his eyes water.
He said--or rather shouts--the word coño.
It is Spanish for ****.
The pincers in his mouth,
Distort the expletive,
Which in his howling voice comes out as KUNST.
The Russian who knows German looks at him in puzzlement.
The Andalusian was yelling KUNST,
Yelling KUNST and crying in pain.
KUNST in German means art,
And that was what the bilingual Russian heard, KUNST.
“This ******* must be an artist or something.”
The torturers remove the pincers,
Along with a little piece of tongue,
And wait, momentarily hypnotized by the revelation:
The word ART had soothed the savage beasts.
So soothed, the savage beasts take a breather,
Waiting for some kind of signal.
Meanwhile, the Andalusian bleeds from the mouth,
Swallows his blood liberally mixed with saliva, and chokes.
The word coño,
Transformed into the word *KUNST,

Had saved his life.
It was dusk when he came out of the building.
Light stabbed at his eyes like midday sun.

So, it’s a fact that I love,
Truly love the simple blunt Anglo-Saxon expletive ****,
****: I pray that while I am being tortured some day,
I have the dignity to scream the word out loud.
And if I am screaming **** at the very end,
When my nervous system finally fails,
When I **** my pants,
When my pulmonic heart and lungs collapse,
Is that so bad?
Is that so wrong?

Do you realize that 1984 came--
Came and went, without any significant cultural hoopla?
The networks ignored it.
As did the cable pundits.
No significant comparative analysis between,
Orwell’s book 1984 and the year 1984,
Was broadcast electronically or publicized in print.
Steve Jobs got it, but as usual no one else did.
Mr. Jobs (RIP) did his best,
To mainstream its profound cultural relevance,
But ultimately failed,
Despite the $1.5 million he paid one of the networks,
To air a one minute nation-wide commercial,
During the 3rd Quarter,
Of Super Bowl XVIII,
January 22, 1984.
Despite Ridley Scott’s astonishing spell-binder,
His 60-second spot for The Macintosh 128K--
Still considered a watershed event,
And an advertising industry masterpiece,
…YouTube it and watch it.  (www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z8ji0B98IMo).
See the hammer throwing athlete chick,
See her fling the sledge,
That huge sledgehammer,
Smash into Big Brother’s flat screen face.
Despite Jobs’ global presence,
Despite Steverino’s unfettered microphone access,
Whenever he felt an oraculation coming on,
Despite everything,
He was unable to move the powers that be,
To either hype the book or the prophecy come true.

So, what’s my point? I have two.
First, in April 1984 the estate of George Orwell,
And the television rights holder to the novel 1984,
Considered the edgy Jobs/Scott commercial to be,
A flagrant copyright infringement,
Sending a cease-and-desist letter to Apple Inc.
And the advertising agency that produced the spot: Chiat/Day Inc.
The commercial was never televised as a commercial after that.  
Score: Lawyers 1, Artists 0.

My second point is that in November 2011,
The U.S. government argued before the U. S. Supreme Court,
That it wants to continue utilizing GPS tracking of individuals,
Without first seeking a warrant.
In response, Justice Stephen Breyer (one of the sane ones),
Questioned what this means for a democratic society.
Referencing Nineteen Eighty-Four, Justice Breyer asked:
"If you win this case, then there is nothing,
To prevent the police or the government from monitoring 24/7,
The public movement of every citizen of the United States.
So if you win, you suddenly produce what sounds like 1984 . . .”*

My third point,
(Yeah, I know I said two, but *******.)
My third point is that I’m just so ******* angry,
All the time, late and soon like Wordsworth,
(Was anyone more aptly named?)
I am angry about so many different things,
And every day that goes by I relate more and more,
To the thousands of Americans that occupied,
Zuccotti Park and Oakland,
And countless other venues,
Out into the streets.
Across the country.
Around the world.  
I am humbled by their courage and perseverance.
Yet, I am afraid for them.
I am made paranoid by the scope and power,
Of the government,
Of the ruling class that controls it,
And the technology they allow us to embrace,
Technology’s sinister potential,
Now that more and more knowledge and information,
Has been digitized,
Existing only in cyberspace.                                                      ­                                                 
What frightens most is the realization,
That anyone with a word processor,
And access to the database could rewrite,
Any historical or legal document,
To fit the needs of a current agenda.
The scary part is—
Repeating myself for emphasis—
That anyone with a word processor
And access to the database could rewrite,
Any historical or legal document,
To fit the needs of a current agenda.

Does anyone out there give a ****?
Does anyone out there share my nightmare?
Do it to Julia.
Do it to Julia.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
.penta - come in: like i said, horror movie soundtracks, i fall asleep listening to them... they're so atmospheric i, simply can't resist their inherent allure.

the infamous Croydon cat killer...
i'm not buying what the media is selling...
i'm currently in the possession
of a quasi-pet...
  a fox...
comes round my garden for food,
leftovers...
which i give to him with overcooked
rice...
      no... i'm not buying the police report...
two reason...
you know where Croydon is...
and when the next incident happened?
north east London...
   did the fox... ******* swim?!
a fox is not a migratory animal...
   it's niche...
   it's local...
   if it has a sustained food source...
scavenger that it is...
omnivore like a petted dog...
  no...
i don't buy it...
              why would it transverse
south west London and strike in
north east London...
    did Herr Fusch
and why were the bodies left as evidence?
this fox has a *******
fetish for cranium meat or something?
i'm no Mr. Softie for the company
of a fox...
     but on the outskirts of London...
cats and foxes share a strange
   symbiosis...
   ever walk the dark Essex roads
at night, and peer into the fox
and the house-cat look at each other with
curiosity?
      like all serial killers...
it begins with animals,
there's always the audacity with animals...
most of them would probably become
model citizens, if they were allowed
a job at a slaughter house...
   so the mainstream media explains
the Croydon cat killer as a fox...
a fox that decapitates a body...
   and doesn't eat the torso?!
******* magic!
that's not how mature nature of
the wild works: you either eat...
or you're eaten..
        my neighbors owned ducks...
you think that when a fox
dug a hole beneath the cage...
there was a duck torso and a missing
duck head?
ha ha! good luck!
       why would a wild animal **** something...
and not eat it?
    a Swizz fondu makes more sense
than this explanation!
no cautionary animal,
that is primarily a scavenger,
travels from south west London
to north east London...
             BULL...****...
       BULL... ****!
           i don't feed my Brody because
i think he's cute...
   i feed him...
     because i randomly feel like it...
do foxes even own the concept
of a head terrine delicacy?
   my little ******* will eat
rice mingling with off-cuts of meat
and fat...
           so... he bit the head off...
but left the torso for evidence?!
BULL... ****...
oh i'm pretty sure a shy, a very shy
bored Jimmy is lurking in the shadows...
shy bored Jimmies need
a canvas of innocence...
animals are their primal choice...
  well... considering that Cain
was a vegetarian and Abel wasn't...
          he's lying low...
he needs to wake up from the adrenaline
rush...
   he needs for it to cool down...
a fox doesn't leave torso evidence...
and what would be the point of...
   did they say whether the heads
were guillotined, or chewed off?
no ******* animal chews off a head,
unlikely for an animal
to decapitate another animal...
   only human imagination provides that
sort of ingenuity...
         crock ****... basic crock ****...
blame the foxes...
     ha ha!
find me this shadowy little Jimmy before
he boasts about
the human sin of being gullible....
thank **** i'm not a campaigner...
   what i do with "my" fox is concerned
with ecological advantages...
also something akin
  to a Monday morning...
and how my neighbor's trash isn't littered
over the road... because
the wolf was fed, and so the sheep
too...
                 there is no logic to
the claim that a fox made methodological
killings of pets...
   if you ever walked
the streets at night,
and watched the stare-off between
a fox and a cat...
   last time i checked:
   cats have claws and a ferocious bite...
foxes? no claws...
just the bite...
oh, right... what am i listening to?
    penta -            come in...
   i'm still thinking of little Jimmy in the shadows,
collecting his decapitated
   cat heads... and stuffing them
with fiddles of a post-scriptum
to the Hollywood movie genre...
   oh believe me...
from what i heard of Eddie the Gain...
20th century alternative culture
was basically him
being covertly cited...
            no...
a fox wouldn't do it...
   if it was a a duck / chicken affair...
sure...
   but cats being decapitated...
and the torsos left as evidence,
i.e. not being eaten?
         little Jimmy is taking a break...
given that: i'm pretty sure a Bonsai
tiger knows a few tricks about
how a predator defends himself...
          then again, the explanation
could be:
  too many cat videos...
             cats aren't cute...
they're bogus critters who are in
the potential of biting and scratching...
come one...
all the way from south west London...
to north east London?!
foxes don't travel that far,
and the closest route would be
by a hypotenuse vector...
   sooner proving Santa Claus
exists...
    and...
              it couldn't be the same fox...
wild animals are analogous...
but they're certainly not original copy-cats...

coming from a newspaper
like the times:
   i'm vaguely allured to claim them
left-leaning... right-centrist for sure...
but they're still quasi-Guardian
types...

the topic at hand came,
thanks to no. 10,154 sudoku puzzle...
and the narrative...

1    0    0    0    0    0    0    0    5
0    5   ­ 0    0    2    0    0    3    0
0    4    0   6    0    5    0    1    0
0    0    2   0    0    0    8    0    0
0    0    5    4    0    3    7    0  ­  0
0    3    0    5    0    2    0    6    0
0    6    0    8   ­ 0    1    0    9    0
5    0    0    0    0    0    0    0    1
­0    7    0    0    6    0    0    4    0

ut 10,153 was a mess...
i can only suppose it was too simple...

let's just say i had to think
of something,
esp. little Jimmy...
    
                        and the scapegoat fox...
after all: it's the easiest route...
   pretending that a wild
animal is to behave in a civilized manner...
but even wild animals
do not behave like
meticulous killers...
          and decapitation?
it an example of a civilized
meticulousness of a killing...
        
i sniff a rat, a see a rat...
             mainstream media is a load
of *******, and hardly an outrage
of der stimme...
    
foxes don't assert methodological killings...
little Jimmy... whittle Jimmy...
taking a break...
having made foundation
in the first membrane of audacity...
sooner or later...
little Jimmy is moving from cats,
and into the territory of humans...

they all do...
  "they"?
        serial killers!

          that wasn't a fox...
i'm petting a fox at this moment in time...
well.. petting is a lose term...
otherwise strapped to:
"petting"...

           but as you do... solving a sudoku...
here's the linear
narrative:

   (b) 8 8 1 1 3 4 7 9 7 7 9 9 4 9 7 9 4 7
(a) 1 1 5 5 5 1 6 6 7 7 8 2 3 4 9 6 6 6 8 2 3 2 4 4 8 3 9 3 9 2 3 2 2 8 8

and you do think up crazy ****
while you're at it...

1    2    6    9    3    8    4    7    5
7    5    8    1­    2    4    9    3    6
3    4    9   6    6    5    2    1    8
4    1    2   7    9    6    8    5    3
6    8    5    4    1    3    7    2  ­  9
9    3    7    5    8    2    1    6    4
2    6    4    8   ­ 5    1    3    9    7
5    9    3    2    4    7    6    8    1
­8    7    1    3    6    9    5    4    2

but then the everyday newspaper
you read on the everyday
from Monday to Friday....
and there's a newspaper magazine...
ah...
   so that's the problem...
i'm not bundled up in a demographic
nearing retirement age?!

the Croydon cat-killer is still out there...
  a fox wouldn't leave a decapitated
torso as evidence...

as the one simple rule of nature suggests:
NATURE DOESN'T BELIEVE
IN LANDFILL SITES...
IT BELIEVES IN RECYCLING...
a fox that chews off a head
of a cat, and doesn't drag the torso into
the forest to eat?
   well... let's just suppose
that idiocy doesn't exactly permeate
in the wild...
              less a stupid animal...
more a selfish / slothful animal...
  foxes are neither...

             little Jimmy is still out there...
with his love for souvenirs of
cat heads...
           and he's buying time...
so a scapegoat emerges...
  
        if a fox did what was "supposedly" done...
i'm pretty sure there would be
no evidence...
          left...

you get the picture?
  Michael Myers began experiments
on animals... as did Jeffrey Dahmer with
road-****...
                can't someone make an outlet
for these people to work
in slaughterhouses?!
                    they'd be perfect!

decent human beings:
in the most indecent human conditions -
and i'm pretty sure these guys
would love working
in the slaughterhouses...

  i could, for some reason,
forget vegetarians akin to Adolf ******
by then!
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2016
after that i'll let you wear my kneecaps for
prayer after that pagan harlot of a wife told me
it didn't rain because i wasn't a good enough ventriloquist
to her schizophrenia. i mean: **** just never stops!
(i actually like this line, apologies for vain-thought).*

"68% of Canadians respondent said that minorities
should be doing more to fit into mainstream society
instead of keeping to their own customs and languages..."

53% of American dittoed likewise...*

              a failure of multiculturalism is a failure
because: it didn't celebrate bilingualism -
i call that the Gaelic effect in Scotland just so
you know it was spoken in over-shadowed Gaelic
within a Glaswegian dialect...

  multiculturalism failed because it was easier to
make a lot of people deemed as schizophrenic
rather than have the ability to be bilingual...
multiculturalism is a failure because it made bilingualism
taboo and instead said: ah... be bisexual!
multicultural societies actually gambled on bisexuality
being more needed than bilingualism,
and anyone still bilingual and not bisexual
was ripened to be harvested by psychiatrists.

but i do wonder what these post-colonial societies
would have made of what the natives might have asked
them...
              i think the natives of America would have liked
the immigrants to appropriate at least some of their
cultural traits... and no keep them in natural reserves like
some talking monkeys...

it's not enough that i have to give up a part of my soul
that i then have to twang the tongue like a banjo
with all that Texan ma'am ******* like those Arabs
in Lebanese American Universities...
oh please, stop this *******,
   i'm puking with the French on the question:
if globalisation is to be arrived at, why is English
the language of choice in achieving it?
              it's not a minority language, that's for sure...
the most poker-laden expression? sure, it is...
but i thought that within a framework of globalisation
(as Napoleon said): if a man speaks two tongues
the first head of the hydra is cut, and two emerge,
hence            the ambiguity of god
      and the proud expression of lizards
and their spies (cats) and why the first letter of
the tetragrammaton is shaped as      Y....
          hence the ambiguity of god and his Machiavelli
in terms of whether there is a world beyond this
one, and whether that diabolical Machiavelli (in all
his despair) did so on purpose to show god the sifting
process...
                    yes, that face of the marine iguana:
smiles like a cat,
              sitting proud on the rocky beach...
yet it has unfamiliar mammalian eyes instead of
those slit-eyes of noon akin to serpents and cats...
            and as Machiavelli said: first time round was great,
second time round: i just don't understand why your
first incentive is somehow better?
        they simply can't know if the first version
is better than their own...
         got to feed them the knowledge of nothing,
so at least they can better what they're been given...
as did Milton, make him less of the two evils...
   what with inhospitable earth and the dream of
colonising mars... or as the history of stars suggests:
stellar evolution sort of does away with Darwinism...
Darwinism is the one form of paper that you
wipe your *** with... it's not a napkin for your mouth:
that ****'s for your ***.
                 at the centre so too iron: as in haemoglobin.
     and we never say stars in a constellation of stars:
those are white dwarfs...
                 is our stellar nebula origin to be resurrected
for a moment into a planetary nebula and then into
stellar ivory of the dwarf?
     personally i think we'll end up being a black hole
unless our right / left politics will lead us into ending
as a neutron... which can only be seen with subatomic
particle goggles... of when Mars and its two moons
housed all thing stable, we are at the stage of the dying
star: hence all our Apocalyptic thinking and bring together...
   Mars experienced the average / massive stage of
a star's life... it's the only planet that shares our common
thread of being solid rather than gaseous...
                    Mercury is equivalent of being the sun's moon
and not a planet if Plato is a declassified planet...
         that's my suspicion concerning u.f.o. sighting and
governments showing us the output of NASA
and then lying that they have this "capacity"...
    old Martians... after all: there were only volcanos on
earth, and then the dinosaurs...
      ******* about with time gets you into these
custard clots of: huh?! i didn't invent the Darwinistic
concept of history worthy noting, Darwinism invented
itself, it's just that after being popularising
the humanities' aspect of the theory came once
the science was debunked... which always sounds like:
see next year, after they told you i'd be
       using a chicken leg fibula for a toothpick:
oh sure, let's get together the Friday after that,
by then i'll be scratching one twig against another twig
to get the fire going...
             after that i'll let you wear my kneecaps for
prayer after that pagan harlot of a wife told me
it didn't rain because i wasn't a good enough ventriloquist
to her schizophrenia. i mean: **** just never stops!
the point is: multiculturalism failed because
  it created a toxic environment for language...
it didn't respect bilingualism...
         it respected bisexuality: isn't that the talk of the town?
all your home-grown terrorists? they only speak
a few words of Arabic... they have been harvesting
the toxicity of a multiculturalism that didn't deem
two language in man to be acceptable...
        and no one cared for the trade benefits?!
how the **** did they miss that sort of plus?
         surely if you're going to trade with the Chinese
you'd send a merchant to China who spoke Mandarin,
and not Swahili, right? common sense.
   if the multiculturalism of England embraced my
bilingualism, i'd be selling English crap in Poland
and perhaps vice-versus... but they said: nope, nadda,
n'ah... you schizoid... da' ****?!
               oh right, so i'm a slot machine or earnings or
those ******* farmers of the urban wheatfield of
thought that psychiatrists are?
   am i talking Dutch or something? me integrating
not good enough? a multicultural system that doesn't
respect bilingualism... deserves what history gives it;
and by now... i'm at Drury Lane: fanning the flames.
Logan Robertson Aug 2018
I fished a movie
hoping to cast a reel
that catches a keeper
hook, line, and sinker
I waded in line
smiling
the tackle box optimism in my sights
butterfly's in my net
visions of a hotrod
I look up at the marque
with a good cast and reel
my boats singing
a song that's hooked on love
I enter the theatre
among the trees
branching towards my spot
such forestry
I race past the mainstream
hotrod in tow
I take to my seat
setting anchor to a fun outing
as the lights abate
skip to my Lou
at bay
watching the cast make a splash

Logan Robertson

8/2/2018
Brandon Navarro Aug 2014
Why is it so cool to hate on a group
for their fashion sense?
Or that they like to be off the mainstream?
You are doing the same thing that
people were doing to the
grunge
goths
punks
hippies
beatniks
flappers

and they all did something with their counterculture.
Ever think that
ours is the hipsters?
Not really,
they've been around since The *** Pistols
actually
they started them.
They made it cool to go to a thrift store
and buy things out of comfort
then rip it up
change it so it looked brand new.

Punk
that made Hipsters.

But now they are just some fad
that people hate on.
Just because they like to talk about
indie bands
knowing them first
wearing band tee's of bands they listen too
wearing vintage and retro clothing
likes reading
being in a cafe
organic food
vegan.

Stereotyping a group is all people did.
Now I can't wear things or do things
because some ******* is going
to say
"Ha you're such a ******* hipster!"

Why don't we stop hating people on what they wear
because how do you expect to get past
racism
homophobia
sexism
ableism
fatphobia
transphobia
preju­dice
if we can't even get past how people dress?
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2018
.here's a schematic representation of the changes to the youtube algorithm... the changes look as follows A(c) B(b) C(a)... or perhaps even Ab Bc Ca... or even A(b) B(a) C(c)... there are variants, all in the same vein of argument... the dictionary / thesaurus standard of the algorithmic categorical impetus... which "miraculously" disappeared... sure... the alphabetic order is somehow intact... but the synonym aspect of expansion is lost... i have lost access to, say A... and subsequent (a), synonyms... and instead "gained" access to the antonyms (b / c)... there's literally a linguistic explanation to the conundrum of the current algorithm... A doesn't follow with (a), but rather (b / c)... B doesn't follow with (b), but rather (a / c); and C doesn't follow with (c), bur rather (a / b)... if this new youtube algorithm were akin to a dictionary.... i'd be looking up a word like aardvark, and subsequently finding an word like chipmunk next to it... (a) contradicts (c)... although both are synonyms in the category B, i.e. burrowing (mammals)... but an *aardvark is not a chipmunk... this new youtube algorithm is *******... never try to fix something that's not broken... but given how this current guise of the algorithm, will not be fixed... the fun of the internet died this year... and it's not like the high street has music shops... how many ******* shoes, clothes and mobile phones do i actually need?!

why would i put myself through all this...
listening to online political
commentary response videos?
now i can't find *rob zombie
's song
michael on the jukebox...
         first they took the music shops.
and then they went after
the internet jukebox...
        i have to lament these changes...
"improvements"...
   spending a night engrossed in
brick walls while drinking
has become the most exciting
"revision" of: things to do when drinking...
2 hours of cramming
undisturbed rhetoric,
  and no dialectics in sight...
           a ******* brain-drain...
custard / fudge for thought...
          two seagulls regurgitating
food from the stomachs to feed their chicks...
i couldn't care about
these youtube political commentators...
i'm sorry...
    i can't give a ****...
     whoever is to blame,
i blame both sides...
                  "my" jukebox is ****** up!
the only recommendations
are what i've already seen!
   once it looked like:
           the thesaurus project...
in terms of the ontology of algorithms...
something synonymous was
always suggest...
  e.g.?
             the song helvegen
by the Nordic band wardruna
would be associated with
   the song federkleid
by a band faun...
               or the song lifa
by the band heilung...
             the ruck has only girl (in the world)
by rihanna have to do with
project thesaurus?!
or ke$ha's song die young?!
the internet media commentators
have...
   i've spent the past two hours...
equally zombie-prone like i might
watch the mainstream...
  the jukebox's ******!
          i can peruse the music scene like
i used to...
  clearly, in a classical music shop...
you wouldn't have a Britney Spears
record lodged in the punk category...
whatever they did...
  the current algorithm has
not categorical imperative...
              it's all jumbled up...
   pop sits alongside black metal...
jazz sits alongside classical music...
  rock is mingling with rap...
how did these people **** up
a formerly pristine algorithm?!
  that had the knowledge of a categorical
imperative...
   a hyena was a mammal,
a whale was an aquatic mammal...
a pig was a mammal...
              a spider was an insect,
    and a cod was a ******* fish...
the end...
      i've reached the critical sentiment
of, either a nihilist or a cynic that...
who gives a **** if you can speak
freely..
        hell... it's not even revelatory or
simply plain obvious what you're saying...
the ******* jukebox is down,
and you're partially to blame!
             what?! no cause: no effect?
   the algorithm has lost its knowledge of
proper coordination of categories...
these days...
    red is no longer a noun...
it's... a verb...
                     the current algorithm
is transgender...
you made a ******* transgender algorithm...
well done!
i need music to think,
    the current tirades of youtube commentary
make my brain turn into
fudge for about two hours...
after i snap out from the mantra...
free speech this... hate speech that...
what was once the only site to explore...
and subsequently buy the music...
this is the only reason i've succumbed
to the statement: the internet is dead...
well... because internet banking,
nor internet retail will not be affected...
working pristine...
             but the experience of finding
new music?
                that's affected...
and it's affected by youtube commentaries
antagonizing mainstream media...
sure, great...
    but the jukebox is ******...
      and because of that?
        i'll care, sure i'll care...
                  when a get to play
the xylophone on my rib-cage
with the embodiment of a ghost form...
on my post-decomposing skeleton!
having gained so little,
we've lost so much...
      what, a comment section on one of
these videos will, "somehow"
compete with my enjoying some decent
music?
         FAT CHANCE.
So Dreamy Jan 2017
Aku tahu mengapa dari jutaan perempuan yang ada di dunia ini, matamu memilih hanya untuk memandangi satu perempuan berambut gelombang sedada dengan kaos polos berbahan nyaman berwarna abu-abu muda yang kamu sebut ia sebagai perempuan indie.

Dia perempuan yang kau beri label indie karena ia mendengarkan musik-musik aneh yang tidak masuk di telinga pendengar musik-musik mainstream yang biasa mendapatkan lagu kesukaannya diputarkan di radio mobil. Bukan jenis selera musik yang biasa ada di playlist tim pemandu sorak. Selera musiknya ialah tak lain sejenis musik rock yang ringan, lagu-lagu dari tahun 90-an, lagu-lagu dengan sentuhan retro beat tahun 80-an, dan musik elektro santai yang biasanya kamu dengar di toko baju. Selain selera musiknya, kau beri perempuan itu label indie karena ia bersifat eksentrik, tak terduga dan penuh kejutan, sedikit tertutup, dan bersemangat. Ia jenis seseorang yang bisa kamu dapatkan dirinya menatapi permukaan jendela yang basah dihinggapi bulir-bulir rintik hujan, sibuk memikirkan sesuatu. Ia juga jenis perempuan yang bisa kamu dapatkan kadang menarik diri dari keramaian, lebih suka membaca atau menulis seorang diri. Juga, ia seorang perempuan yang bisa kamu temukan sedang tertawa lepas bersama teman-temannya, mengobrol dengan terbuka dan hangat, menebar senyum sambil menyapa ramah, berteman baik dengan semua orang. Ia jenis perempuan yang tak akan kau sangka-sangka, apalagi dapat kau tebak tindak-tanduk akan ia perbuat selanjutnya. Kau pikir ia jenis perempuan yang kuat, sesungguhnya ia katakan bahwa dirinya cengeng. Setelah itu, kau pikir selanjutnya ia bukan tipikal perempuan mandiri yang mampu membawa dirinya sendiri ke mana pun, tapi nyatanya kau lihat kadang ia berjalan sendiri – ke kantin, ke mushola, bahkan kadang kau mendapati dirinya berjalan pulang seorang diri dengan kedua telinga ditancapi earphone putih. Ia perempuan berperawakan kecil dan seorang pemimpi besar, yang mimpi-mimpinya membuatnya bekerja keras demi menghilangkan ketakutannya akan pikiran ketidakmampuan mewujudkannya. Ia dianggap secerah mentari bagi orang-orang di sekitarnya, selalu tertawa dan melisankan kata-kata positif, tapi sesungguhnya, ia hanyalah mentari bagi dirinya sendiri. Setiap kali ia jatuh, ia yang membuat dirinya kembali bangun − hingga akhirnya, ia tanamkan pada benaknya bahwa begitulah proses dari kehidupan. Kehidupan adalah siklus yang adil. Kehidupan berbuat tidak adil pada semua orang dan itulah saat yang paling tepat di mana ia harus bangkit dan mekar, hanya untuk dirinya sendiri.

Aku tahu kemudian mengapa perempuan yang kamu sebut sebagai perempuan indie itu menarik perhatianmu, bahkan sampai membuatmu rela melakukan apapun untuknya. Ia benar-benar membuatmu seolah bangun dari tidur lama di ruang kedap cahaya, pandangan matamu seolah mengatakan bahwa perempuan itulah matahari baru dalam kehidupanmu. Tentang bagaimana tindak-tanduknya yang tak mampu kau reka dan kau prediksi, perempuan itu membuatmu seperti melihat sebuah misteri dan keajaiban yang melebur jadi satu.

Sebut saja, sederhananya,
kamu benar-benar (akan) mencintainya.
Styles May 2014
Between food and ***, it's difficult to decide which of these pleasures we enjoy most. Washed my hands, I'm a good host. Besides, eating with my hands is the part i enjoy most. The flavors spilling over, dripping, running down my wrist. The potency and aroma, only one thing smells, and taste, like this. Your lips; soft, fleshy, texture, the juices running down my lip - Drip, drip. The taste, I'll ****, lick, bite or sip;the clear liquid so thick, your mainstream, runs quick. Concave crevasses, my fingers still fit. The colors of the flesh, delight, changing shapes, move and shift. Fuzzy little peaches, mangos wild, for fruits like this. Taste of heaven, leaves a stain that sticks. Without the tender fruits of your *****; none of this would exist.
judy smith Apr 2015
The DisArt Festival aims to bring people together through different modes of art to further the discussion about disability and community. One such way the Festival is doing so is through fashion.

On Friday, the DisArt Festival hosted two events to talk about accessible fashion, a workshop in the morning and a runway fashion show that evening. The Festival showcasedOpen Style Lab from MIT, Fashion Has Heart, Kendall College of Art and Design fashion students and Spectrum Health Innovations designs for people of all ages with disabilities.

Friday morning at 9 a.m. students, designers and festival goers came together in the Ferris building at Kendall College to discuss their involvement in the Festival.

“(Through the DisArt Festival) we wanted to do something that flipped perceptions on its head,” says Chris Smit, director of the DisArt Festival.

Open Style Lab began as an extracurricular student group at MIT where students wanted to create functional, stylish clothing that people with or without disabilities could wear. The group pairs a person with disabilities up with an engineer, an occupational therapist and a designer to work together to create the most comfortable, functional and good looking garment possible.

Fashion Has Heart is a Grand Rapids-based nonprofit that makes clothing and boots designed by veterans to tell their stories. All proceeds of sales go toward veteran support.

Kendall College was approached by Spectrum Health Innovations about creating clothing for kids that receive occupational therapy at Spectrum. Many clothing companies that make garments for kids with disabilities are not sure how to do so or sell their product at a prohibitively high price. Students in a fashion for action and function class were each teamed up with one child and made a one-of-a-kind, fashionable garment that the child would be proud to wear while also being helped by it.

At 7 p.m. Friday night, there was a fashion show in the same room at Kendall College to show off all the designs from the different companies. All of the models featured in the show were local to the Grand Rapids area. Led by Robert Andy Coombs, fashion coordinator for the festival, the event was a packed house, with nearly 300 guests filling the runway space lit with green and pink festival colors while a DJ played club music.

Open Style Lab created three jackets that were easy for people with disabilities to put on and take off but were not only for Disabled users. The Lab really wanted to focus on making multi-way gear as to include more people and to bring more attention to bringing accessible clothing into the mainstream.

Fashion Has Heart featured five of their styles, each with a t-shirt and a pair of boots that tell the story of the veteran who worked with the company to create the design.

The Kendall College students created five styles over the course of the semester and were able to showcase their pieces on the kids that they were created for. The kids benefitted most from compression clothing, so the students were challenged to create clothes that they kids would want to wear but would also help compress and engage their muscles.

“Fashion is communication,” says Liz Bartlett, the Kendall College professor that teaches the fashion class. “It’s a way for people to express their identity. DisArt celebrates identity differences but also our similarities.”Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/vintage-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com
Aarya Oct 2015
I just feel so limited
It's 11 pm and I want to go for a drive
But my parents just won't take me
I want to go for a drive at 11pm
In my france france france sweatshirt, hair loose and all
and I want to stick my head out of the window
And I want to feel the cold air pass me by and go through my bones
And I want my hair to fly in the **** wind
and I want to listen to mainstream music and some feel good music
And I want the sky to be pitch black, with stars
And I want to pass trees and solely trees and smell the leaves and the pine cones
and I want to see the city from down below, as the street lights light up the town in golden arrays
And pass a restaurant with some music
Maybe even some random people loitering in a corner of a smoke shop with purple lights and cigarette smoke crowding everywhere
And I want to just look at them
And think about them
And what they did to get there
And I want to see a couple holding their hands and walking down the street
Even though its 11 pm
And I hope they're just happy
And I want to hold my dads big warm hand while I do all of these things
Because I got shotgun
And I want my brother to sit quietly in the back, and my dad to hum some Indian song
While I do all of these things
And I want to go to an aquarium and stare at jellyfish
Lavender jellyfish
and bright electric blue jellyfish
And pink and orange jellyfish
And I want to smell the AIR
And I want more of me to grow than the part in my brain that controls calculus and SAT
I want to grow physically and mentally and spiritually
There's a whole world out there
A whole WORLD!
And I'm in my room
My mother is in the kitchen thinking I'm doing SAT, and my dad is working and stressing over his job, and my brother is in his room writing his first interactive program
and I'm in my room, knowing i'm supposed to be doing SAT, but all I can think about is
how there's a whole messy majestic gigantic WORLD out there
And I am sitting here doing calculus and SAT
And it seems like its all for nothing
For only myself
And I know I'm not necessarily supposed to be this altruistic human being
I'm supposed to want things for myself
I'm supposed to be selfish in how I study and where I put my time but thats just not enough for me
I want to spend all day planting poppies and sunflowers
And in the night I just want to stare into infinity at the sky
And I want to cut my hair shoulder length, dye the bottom blue, get another piercing, decorate my hands with  henna, and walk around in vintage crop tops and flowy pants and matte black michael kors sandals
And I want to stop watching TV and going on facebook and having superficial banter and disgusting small talk
And I want to do yoga for the right reasons
Because yoga is the journey of the self, through the self, to the self, and I don’t want to do it solely because I want nice arms or a bendy back or a nice **** I mean even though its okay to want those things but I just want more
I want everything to be just raw and I want people to expose themselves and I want to expose myself and I want
my parents to just LISTEN to what I want
And recognize the fact that this is the third night in the row that their daughter has outwardly displayed to them that
there's chaos in her mind because she just can't handle
doing and being absolutely nothing
anymore
And I want to read about human rights and global warming and how
when a chef is cooking for a ton of people, he uses utensils to remind himself what to do next
and I want to read about forensics and how mass spectrography and chromatography help detect if someone is poisoned or not
And I really don't want to do SAT
Not because its hard or boring, or even because it seems useless but because
it just seems so *******
useless and irrelevant
And I want to stop living the life I want to live on a **** website
Because its opened my mind so much but I want to SEE sunflowers instead of
looking at pictures of them and I want to SEE
elephants and kittens instead of just
looking at them and I want to
feel a connection with a human being rather than just imagining what it would be like and I don't mean romantic relationships, no
But I just want to stop being so ignorant
And I want to know everything
And really all I want to go is forget that
I have to study tomorrow
I just want to go on a car ride
And stick my head out of the window, like a dog
Because I am happy, like a dog
Just why am I LIMITING myself?
For what???
I want to talk to people
I want them to teach me something
Because people are nature Tamille
Some people are delicate flowers
Some people are raging thunderstorms
Some people are disarrayed forests
Some will leave me breathless, some will knock me down
And some will be gardens and some will be SUNSETS and
I want them all to teach me something
And I want to speak my mind and look HIM whoever he may be
In the eye and and I want to stop being so small
And I may be insignificant but I'm an infinity
Because all galaxies are infinite
I read that there are as many atoms in a single molecule of DNA as there are stars in a typical galaxy
each of us are our own UNIVERSE
And thats why we burn too brightly sometimes and thats why we
collide sometimes and thats why we
collapse inwards sometimes and thats why we explode sometimes and start anew
And I want my soul to project outwards
I want whatever of me that is trapped in my bones to just
spill out
And I want someone to feel all the love and happiness I have in me from
across the room
And I want to stop being so closed up and insecure and timid
I think you're a towering mountain Tamille
Or thunder
I wouldn't say you're lightning
But I'd say my mom is a delicate flower and my dad is a powerful river and my brother is a colorful sky and I want to be
a forest
I just want to stick my head out of a car window, like a happy dog
Because I am happy
I don't want to be young and scared even though I know its okay to be scared
But I want to stop swallowing my words and stop being so paralyzed
Because I can do whatever I want
I must set fire to my old self
I must start anew.
Why am I so scared for WHAT
For what
Okay so what do I do now
I think saying all that was a good start
Here's whats not going to happen
I'm not going to wake up late tomorrow
or not too late
And I'll go for a walk
To the pecks
And I'll play with the chickens
And I'll read with the chickens
I'm just burning right now
And now it seems silly to sleep
Tamille, when I come to LA for winter break
We will go out on drives at 11pm, even 2 am
For the sake of living
And we will walk alongside the beach at preposterous hours of the day
Simply for the sake of living
And we won't be phonies
Because thats silly
And we must try not to be phonies
Just for the sake of living
But of course I can't just be this spontaneous extemporaneous person online
I need to be like that Offline
more than anything because I just
need to talk to people more
And I need to see the jellyfish and I watch them with their tentacles floating upwards and downwards and just there in what is to them, an abyss
Maybe we're like
jellyfish in an abyss
Like how humans just watch jellyfish in containers
Maybe we're the jellyfish
I need to be a good memory to people
Because we remember more than we think we do
So I must try my best to be a positive remembrance
I can teach  someone something
I can teach a random stranger something
I can teach my mom something
I can teach my 85 year old neighbor something
I can teach you something
It feels wrong to say all that and then go to bed
So I think I'll just walk outside and stare into infinity once more
And then ask my dad if we can go on a car ride one more time
And then I'll come back in my room and read about global warming
Or maybe I'll read about global warming outside
Because a child educated only at school, is an uneducated child
And I hope you read all this because out of everyone I chose you to tell it to you
And i hope your response isn't just "go do all that then"
I hope you read all the many messages
And now I will log off of facebook
I hope you also wake up in the morning and make it a great day
Not "hope you have a good day"
But rather
Make it a great day
this is long
My couch,
Is death,
And avoidance is a second language,
Ask me do I speak it?
Conjoined twins,
Of misery and manipulation,
No calls,
Only cushions and customer's custom complaints,
From tomorrow,
The phone wont ring,
So I'll stay down this road,
Listening to headlines and headlights
Sing,
Moody music dwelling,
Where the lies and shame met in between,
Cut the cue, end the scene

The stage has been rebuilt,
We talked like teenagers,
And you told me that I've changed,
But the same,
Still that same number,
No more gap,
But your smile still kills,
Pain with palendromes,
We were here before,
And so again we,
Our fighting saying goodnight,
Street lamps in different cities,
Static.

I'm just fine,
Playing my part,
My mainstream maybe different,
But
Obsession has been overcame,
By the rising tide of a smile,
If the teleprompting signs shine through,
Meanwhiles and meditations
What can I do,
Except hope I'm reading,
The
Right
Script,

The couch,
It asks,
Where have you been?
I set down another,
chip.
Kind of scattered
Wuji Seshat Oct 2014
They had the plastic coffins ready
Before the panic hit, Ebola was a planned
Population reduction project

A good distraction from Economic collapse
Governments always divert your attention
At critical moments in history
The elite wish to keep their control
Ebola had no trouble infecting

Medical professionals, but they assured us
It’s not airborne, it’s only an exchange
Of fluids, so cover up your eyes

Ebola carries with it the heat of Africa
Able to make your blood boil form the inside
A post-colonial bioweapon specifically designed
To make you fear, to make you a follower
I think my stomach can feel it spreading

Around the world, in months, years
You cannot contain something like this
By simple quarantine? Even the medical staff

Don’t want any part in it, so cover your eyes
The black plague drips sinister News
In our times, the mainstream media plans
Consumes with its grip, like Ebola
It has the power to consume, a portable
Killing-machine, enough to linger about doom?  

Ebola is an outbreak, taken more seriously
The closer it hits to home, what is home
On a planet of billions of travelling people?

— The End —