silence
except the soft piano riffs of classic 60's covers
and the summer wind slipping past the parted windows
as we drive through a different world
where the daily countryside encapsulates
and the sentinel stars coagulate
into a calming blanket of condensation
where serotonin and melatonin miscibles reign supreme
silence
except for the soft squeeze of my hand in hers
the symphonized beat of two hearts stitched as one
and the subtle sigh of mother nature's languid lullaby
beneath the masked face of the full moon
we drive through a different world
and wonder how something so special
can be a secret
kept between
only us

Do you believe we are brain dead
Shallow Suburbanites with no street cred
Incapable of an original thought
Because we have all been bought?
While you with all of your spare time
Are able to protest in rhyme
Tempting our flock
And moving the hands on the clock
Do you think we are cold and callous
Living out here in our “palace”
Unfeeling and uncaring
Never thinking or sharing
Our supposed ill-gotten wealth
Acquired with sinister stealth
To be used to acquire more
While others face a locked door
But it is us that make it easy for you
Because it is all you think to do
Your mind is free to choose
With no constraints, you cannot lose
Your heroes are on the road
Howling about their load
Riding further with vocal riffs
Pretending you have many gifts
Experimenting with freedom of thought
Glorifying yourselves all for naught
Living with nothing to lose or gain
You are able to explore your brain
But how easy it must be for you
With no one to answer to
No small child to care about
You just existed without any doubt
About your pioneering ways of living
But it was about taking not giving
As you smugly changed our world
Our morals to be forever hurled
Into a corner to be abused
Painted as something of a ruse
To deprive you of your extremism
Or able to live in your Nihilism
While you bellow and memorize
The words of others more wise
So you take and take
And then regurgitate
Their thoughts with a twist
Trying to give us a gist
Of your genius in poetry
But you only master sophistry
As you speak in starts and stops
Attempting to fool us flops
By orchestrating obfuscation
You captured the eye of the nation
You live in self-congratulatory mode
While forever referring back to the road
A trip of useless hedonistic eruption
Masquerading as true revelation
And what did you reveal?
Something that you should conceal
A high-brow conceit steeped in intellectual
Pretension ultimately altogether ineffectual
In changing the world in your image
Playing God with words you scrimmage
With the minds of lost children
Left disillusioned and barren
Because they bought into your delusions
Not knowing you saw them as intrusions
Into your bubble of pretended insight
So you turned their day into night
They ran to the West Coast
But found nothing but a ghost
Of an enlightened age
With few people quite sage
But they were not fed or awakened
Only left on the street forsaken
While you accept the plaudits
Of other frauds matching wits
With one another for what?
Just so they could mentally strut
All about the place
Pretending to care just in case
They were called on their addictions
So they fought against contradictions
In the way they actually lived their life
And the caring they projected about strife
We who must care for our offspring
With no time for free living
Exist wondering about your fame
When it seems it was so much a game
About how much you could consume
And make us to be the loon
Because you knew of the conspiracy
While we believed any theory
Of a loving God and benevolent big brother
Because we are stupid, incapable of reading the weather
Of changing times and mores
You keep us down with your stories
Of not being controlled
By those who you say stole
The truth from all of us
And threw us under the bus
Well, we are not impressed
So you can remain undressed
As the Emperor who sees only himself
And believes in his own wealth
Of mind and enlightenment
Publishing only excrement
Useless to the poor
What else do you have in store?
We await, breath baited
Your words of how you hated
Society and its norms
Your people and their scorns
Will once again attack
The suburban brat pack
So we work each day
And in the morning pray
That our efforts are not useless
To those who do not live like us
With our many blessings
We give our offerings
Freely and with joy
Each girl and boy
To transfer that which God gave
Because that is how we are taught to behave*


Copyright 2010. All Rights Reserve. Mark Lecuona

I know I'm capable to do any type of dances, if I try.

But when the music plays, I dance freestyle.
It's not just 'any' freestyle,
it's the type that you know it's missing affection.
It's missing a partner to love.

As soon as I feel the rhythm going through me,
my body flows with it.
When the rhythm is crazy fast:
It makes me a wild cat,
seeing of how feisty and powerful my body can move.
But when it's a slow rhythm:
My body moves slowly and elegantly, yet tempting to go near it.
Either way,
It'll call out for you to TOUCH IT.

I'm known to be ONE of the GREATEST TEASERS in my groups of friends.
Because my deadliest weapons,
are my hips.

When the rhythm plays, it works up from my knees; which is the key to how my hips can move SSOOoo SMOOTHly, then it works up to my curved belly, then to my chest and arms.
The DEADLY body wave.

But what can REALLY GET ME GOING,
is  when that guitar solo, the riffs
breaths heavy, then bites finger
OH GAWD THE SOLOS just makes me
LOOSE IT COMPLETELY!!!
Especially, the ones from 70s-80s,
it's a turn on for me.
My body will want MORE to feel it's melody,
for it to keep on playing!
OVER AND OVER AGAIN UNTIL I JUST drop on the floor from SATISFACTION.
With my face all red and my eyes all seduced.
My body burning up.
biting my bottom lip
mhmhm-heehee~

Sometimes when I dance on the pole or even using a chair I can imagine a person,
who's dancing with me.

One of the things that can win my full body's attention,
is when another body resist the temptations from falling into their wrong desires from me.
OR if that other body moves fluently with mine, without going any further, like under my clothes.
Simply just respect.

I may be a performer, but my mind says it differently.
So does others.
Our bodies want temptation and our minds wants to have trust and comfort.
You know what I'm saying.

Just because I'm a TEASER, doesn't mean I want YOU in BED.

That's why I'm deadly.
I torment people, by simply moving a piece of my body, then not letting them fulfill their DESIRES from me.
Sorry if you guys can't keep control of yourselves. Just work HARDER on THAT~
The only people who can HAVE ALL THAT from me, are the ones if in a relationship with or the ones I just REALLY LIKE ALOT~ ;)

I got a list of songs that can REALLY move me:
(Most of them are in the 70s-80s era,which ever has a nice guitar riffs)
Aerosmith- Rag Doll
Alannah Myles- Black Velvet
Nazareth-  Goin' Loco, Hair Of The Dog
Warrant- Cherry Pie
Def Leopard- Pour Some Sugar On Me
Gary Wright- Dream Weaver(the mellow melody is what moves me)
Foreigner- Jukebox Hero
AC/DC- Honey Roll, Thunderstruck, Back In Black
Also there's more, but it's all I can think of right now.

Even some songs from today:
Pussycat Dolls- Buttons, Sway
Britney Spears(ver)- I love Rock 'n' Roll
****** XL ft. DATAROCK- Gloria
Lady Gaga- Do What You Want With My Body
Girlicious- Stupid ****
One Republic- Everybody Loves Me
Down With Webster- Woe Is Me
There's also others, but again, it's all I can think of~

these people.
these ******* people.
the ones on the subway
the ones revin'  their engines in their "sweet rides"

they stare
you're so ****** aware
that their eyes
burn a hole in the back of your
neck

it all about self respect
and you spit in the dust
with disgust
theres no hope for a better future
because theres no ****** respect left

it all got lost
in the melting ***
and we've got the whole world at
our finger tips
we've got a voice to spill out like *****

but this voice is beautiful and it comes from the
lips

and im talkin musically
the jives and the riffs
where you let the vibes sound right
and when the beats feelin tight
you sway your hips and you throw your arms in the air

you don't give a ****. you don't care.

these people.
these ****** people.
they stare.

you say some silent prayer to yourself
some **** like
keep those eyes away

see theres a whole lota **** you keep
silent
but you really want to say

i don't know
somethin like: how you use pain to mask pain
and everyday is the same
when the drugs in your veins

so cut it wide open
and let all run red
run run
run red

but wait.

you cant let this **** go straight to your
head

instead silence the thoughts
since they'll label you
crazy

maybe
maybe you're crazy
maybe you're insane
to the point where meds don't do jack
**** to contain-

they just unleashed
the beast

and that little voice in your mind
the one that tell you simple matters
as in "turn left here"
or don't forget to shut the light

is now stabbing at your brain with a
mother ****** knife

they say its alright
they said luvox and prozac, and kolonipin and vyvanse
will fix you
fix you.
get you through

it could.
it would possibly give you a chance.

to be normal

but what the hell is normal?
is normal conforming to society?
is normal facing everyday with a life of
sobriety

it cant be
theres no such thing as normalcy

theres no such thing as peace
or self expression
or that release
when you know that you've got it all at your fingertips

and then it splits-
it tears and rips
this world is cut wide open man
because of the people.
the ****** people.

as they try to decide
who you are,

and you laugh
because the fronts, the facades,
to cover up lies

the makeup or drugs
or those clothes
are just a disguise

and when you're weakened and worn
and no one will realize
how badly you've been tattered and torn
they don't give a ****. they don't even care.

because these people,
these ******* people.
will stare

stare into space
stare right through you
stare into an abyss
stare straight into nothing
into nowhere.

you know its not right
you know its not fair
but what do you know?

you're just one of them too.
you cant deny it
or hide it

we haven't evolved
were still monkeys and apes
running wild...

see were still running wild...
just on a monotonous and mild
frontier

its the people.
the ******* people who stare.
trying to figure you out.

size you up

but they always happen to
catch you
when you're stuck in the rut

when you look like ****
when you're in a manic state
throwin a rant or a fit
and hey thats great..

but they always scope you out-
i didn't brush my teeth today
just stuck a piece of gum
in my ******* mouth

its those days
those people.

when you want to scream and shout
those ******* people who size you up in a
  minute.

but if they'd just lived it.
man if they'd just been in it.
and experienced the *******.

the people
those ******* people

who have used and abused
this world and this land

we stand and demand
peace and freedom
an some say
**** it

we don't need em'

but some recite it like the bible or the koran
raise their palms to some higher power
and some fight it

because these people need to
wake the **** up
stop starring
and get a grip.

these ****** people
need to understand this:

the whole worlds at their fingertips.

WSQF:
Battle of the Bands

tonight we jam, it's the battle of the bands
there's smoke on the stage ....***** on the stands
smoke in the rafters, from puffin live
this crowd is ready to rock and jive

AB:

One guitar in hand,
Calling you out animantium plans,
Of having rocktastic fans,
Tattoos and silver lens,
Naked babies,
Naked babies,
Naked babies.

WSQF:

this joint is rockin'
and we be jammin'
some slam dance ritual
and hip hop breakin'
who's gonna take it?
who's gonna take it?
alright...take it to the bridge!

AB:

There is no stoppin what we doin,
Do you smell us when were cookin,
Serving you a hot plate this funkalicious music,
Some old skool flava,
Let us see if you can take it,
All you gotta bop it , move it ,break it,

WSQF:

gonna run some crazy riffs across your brain
sweet heavy metal ..drive you insane
step up the action
raise the stakes
let's see if you got what it takes

AB:

Lead guitarist,
Got a jazzy a vocal,
Bass solos and drums knockin in your ear holes,
Fresh lyrics on a platter,
Cut up nicely,
In to pieces of rock heaven,
Its time to get godly,

WSQF:

home boyz gonna kick it
take it to the next plateau
while your jammin'...face dancer
play those licks real slow
the soul of creation
right there in your hands
this pure fusion..the battle of the bands!

Started with
Happy New Year
spelled out
in rails of *******
carefully measuring
which letter
was largest
each of us got one
you
remember.

Carolyn
came with me
she was dressed in red
she figured that bowl
of quualudes
was
all meant for her.

The gang was all there
passing out gifts
rusted out back scratchers
found in the garage
no kids yet.

Sheraton spoke in mysteries
his wife Jane
hustled me behind the shed
Joaquin
was  drunk on his knees again
screaming for ***** and poetry
Patti
had recently found recovery
and I was spending my time
trying to convince her to drink.
The party didn't begin
until
Mary and Stuart arrived
our personal gurus
took us all
one step higher.
Olivia and Aaron
had
much to hide.
Davey
was
the ring master.

We
didn't have to go to the circus
we were the circus.

Little Feat
were still willing
the Dobbie Brothers
in high pitch
were still chillin
the Dead played amazing riffs
Bob Dylan was street legal
the Boss was depressed
the
sound track to our lives.

I gotta job
working in a drug free program
all the staff
sat in a VW van
having a staff meeting
and
passing a joint.

Carolyn and I
kinda got married
had a big party
I knew I was in trouble when
she launched herself
on the bed of gifts
and tried to swim
up stream.
I
learned all the messages
of
Alanon
in one brief flash

Everything passes
everything changes
we all know that.

I got a real job I wasn't qualified for
missed a deadline at school
tossed out on my ***
no 26 year old
Ph.D.
for me
just another suicide
on the horizon
saw my grandmother
and
the white light
but
also at the job
met the future mother
of my children
and of course
she was to be
my
future ex-wife.

When Carolyn found this out
she
brought
a gun to my work
to
tell me what she
thought about that
it ended all right
on that night.

I lived in Laurel Canyon
in a beautiful garden
on Wonderland Avenue
John Holmes
was my neighbor
bigger than life.

1978

It ended as it started
with *******
the big chill crowd
together again
one last look back at the year
in
Super 8
Davey's traditional dance as historian
for the year that passed
one last look
and
farewell.