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There's a crowd of pitch black unicorns at a Chelsea Wolfe's concert.
A crowd of pitch black unicorns moving their onyx hooves and horns
at the rhythm of drones dressed in electric guitars. An acoustic break follows.
The vibrations of the music and dancing cause purple flowers to grow,
purple flowers weaned on blood and sticky black tar. There's a crowd of
unicorns dancing at a Chelsea Wolfe's concert feeding on ladybirds crisps
and dragonflies sticks, that once home will play vinyls on mystic turntables of fire.
The purple flowers grow into vines and try to smother the unicorns
to prevent them from listening to bloodred-dyed vinyls on mystic turntables of fire.
Meanwhile in the corner of a museum S. Teresa of Avila's statue animates by itself, walks
to the window and throwing itself crumbles into a thousand of pieces of marble.
The seventh seal has not been opened yet but the ninth the eleventh and the seventeenth
exploded already, cracked their own wax and started spreading tongues of flames
and water to decimate humanity. A woman dressed in a fifteenth century scarlet outfit
leads the pitch black unicorns to salvation creating a safe haven for them
in Manchester and another one in California. They have in the meantime gone bonkers
and started feeding on each other. Equine teeth suddenly grow carnivorous jaws.
Nothing is left in the two oasis apart from a puddle of blood and a pavement of corpses.
It's 7 a.m. Chelsea has not yet finished her concert and her music blossoms around
played by the mystic turntables of fire. That which remaineth is pitch black light
and the breath of aeons lingering here and beyond and nowhere.
b e mccomb Sep 2016
i've heard the songs
about killing pain

sounding like the only
way is with a vinyl
record and several
shots of something strong

(but pain isn't all
alcohol and turntables)


it's a stack of cds
still shrinkwrapped so
they shine like diamonds
a discard pile scratched and
cracked so i know that
life keeps skipping on

a fourth cup of coffee
to send my heart
rattling and my
hands shaking

(i've wished to be in
love before just so
my heartbreak could
someday be justified
but i can let the music
paint that picture easy)


buffering lyric videos
sprawled out in bed
watching the light grow
brighter behind the curtains

finding myself addicted
to pain and freezing cold
because i need the white
noise of a fan at night

*(but pain isn't all
alcohol and turntables
sometimes it's just old
boomboxes and black tea)
Copyright 9/10/16 by B. E. McComb
My dear summers dream was to the taste cream
Pass me the triple beam the microphone fiend
Back on the scene simplicity is your complexity
So amazingly like grace I be rockin' the place
Like we Studio 54 shut down the doors
Once the bubbly pours and the **** adores
Ya mental **** ya sentimentals and these new aged millennials
They too satirical I make miracles flow potholes
Creatin' mass mayhem your an inconvenience
Cuz of ya hesitance my presence is known
Without even being shown paragraphs of stone
Hard to crack waxing tracks like a shark attack
Felonious acts we never back down
Til my soul drown in the core of the earth
Royalties since birth new my worth they tried to mirth
At my pain tryna change the game cuz all these cowards
Saying the same thang got dang got dang
Time to chess box like Wu Tang leavin' a stain
On ya reign no tears though I'll be on solo
Rippin' up instrumentals ya know how we do so...yeahhh


From the Sunny to bees that make the honey
Sticky icky like my spliffs be call me smokey
Puttin' fire to mother natures forests check the creases I
unleashes
Rap game mafiaso so so better back back
Or else get dropped lika Domino so here we go!
Here we go!
With the ghetto jams love girls with the derriere's of Pam
Got **** once again it's time to slam
Mics harder than Shawn Kemp ya flows shrimp
That's why ya girl calls me Mr **** no limp
Slick as Rick hello young world tilt and a whirl
Catch the swirl of Qatar Pearls on the neck of ya girl
Suckas better know I'm coming with a blow
Harder than Bowe combined with a super glow
black Saiyan raps slayin' turntables layin'
So I can get wicked lyrics Pickett
like Wilson
Flows in unison formation
of words
Herds a violent surge
feel the purge
We high rising no disguisin'
knockin' out Suckas who jivin' ain't none survivin' ?
When the world is in trouble and theres nowhere left to turn.
Well your **** outta luck till then theres the Gonzo report.

Live from hidden location in a Florida basment broadcasting
now it's time for the Gonzo report.
With your team of in depth and seldom sane news team.

Your anchor man Gonzo   co Anchor that Batsheba
weather chick Neva finally gotta mention Flores.
Sports with your favorite ****** Richard Shepard.

And then theres Paula Swanson  who's sitting on my other side
I dont really know why  but eveyone likes Paula so who gives a *****.
Who wants a sandwhich im just saying.
And are field reporters Jeremy Wyatt,Chris Smith,And Mr E,

This just in.
A old man lost control of his car running over 17 people
and seriously ******* off one dwarf.
And if your keeping track at home kids it's old farts 20 crazy texting while driving teen *****   15.

Theres big trouble in Cairo kiddies  with more  no the situation
are own version  of snooky Bathsheba   take it away.
the camera zooms into  the   queen of Hello.
I swear to God Gonzo if  dont back the **** up i will knife you
you crazy *******  and put some ****** pants on you ******.

Yes Bathsheba ******* the outside  and  kinda ****** all around as well
but enough with the foreplay children.
Oh look Paula made cookies!
Baths began here report on troubles that had befallen this country
And as i mixed a drink it made me wonder.
Were the **** is Eygpt.

Opps looks like i dropped my cookie.
Like a mighty ninja with a hot flash I was met with a searing
pain to my nose.
In the name of Cindy Crawford what was that for?

Thats for even thinking bout going under that table.
But .
No Baths replyed  then hit me again.
The pain the agony my modeling carear.

Now with coverage from the World Series  heres Richard Shepard
Richard Can you here us.
The cam camera  cut  to a shot of a monkey masterbaiting in the Bronx zoo.

Yes the production team of Goldie and Joel M Frye
when not watching hot oil dwarf  varsity wrestling death match
there top notch.

Richard  dear lord man were on air it's no time for that now.
This isnt Chris's  bachelor party.
That isnt Richard you ****** Baths  spoke in that charming yet
Voice that told me if i didnt stop I might get a free *** change
voice of her's.

And it's not the world Series you half wit it's the Superbowl.
No  wonder  there was no mention of the stanley cup.
Baths what do you not know.
So after i mixed another wild turkey and put a mirror under
Paula's nose to make sure she was still breathing.
I told her  the roofies really help with the nerves.

Finally The artist formely known as Jack Horner   was live on the screen  from some cult meeeting it appeared.
*** they've captured Fergie.
Richard take it away.

Well these ***** keeping fighting over this ball.    
Runnin back  and ****** forth its driving me ****** bonkers.
Oh yeah amigo I these knickers ya asked for.
Richard held a pair of black *******  to the camera yeah
smell of  no talent  and overproduced songs.
dam you slash.

Back in the studio.
Ummm haha well i didnt ask him to steal anyones *******.
Paula broke the awkward silence i dont wanna go to school.
Paula you alright?
***** you John Travolta.

Ok well also at the world series of poker Jeremy Wyatt and he's got a special guest Taylor Swift.
Great god of the traveling  flying squirrell monkeys pants.
anything but her.

Screaming like a naughty little school girl with a  bad texting  habit
on a unlimted plan i dove underneath the news desk for it's better
die at the heels of Baths and a tap dancing kinda drugged Paula than   face a evil more sinister than Drew Dillegence or Ghandi  combined.

Jeremy was in the danger zone note even knowing it for beneath that
yummy little body layed the soul of satan  himself.

It was Nashvile  a few whiskey laced years ago  I was a drummer
for local sessions  she was 16 I.
well I wasnt.
you mix in some drugs s0me cars crashes knocking over a liquor store or two.  
That little hell cat had a thirst for danger  and some  lets just say
weird habbits   okay it was more like a curse.

Strange things happend to here past lovers.
John Mayer,  The gay cowboy from Broke Back Mountain  you know
that movie about the sinking ship, and that lesbian  from the Jonas Brothers.

Yes just as soon as she wrote a song you were good as dead.
You'd vanish to here secret torture chamber were her music played
non stop   and your blood was drained slowley so she could feed
her own talent or lack there of.

Jermy puzzled  hey Gonz you there Baths umm Paula ?
Underneath the saftey of are second hand news desk hey look gum.
huddled togather like three okay one drunk monkey and a passed out frat sister and a very ******* Baths please dont stab me im
fragile   like a aged bottle of good whiskey im just saying.

We gotta make a brake for it look Baths  you distract her im blowing this joint  like a long winded madman  on a five day binge
let loose on old country buffet.

Baths   spoke   in a  language  that was always a challenge  for me
called sanity.
Gonz if you dont let me out from under this desk.
Im going to rip your heart out and feed it to the  homless dwarfs.
And heres a napkin Paula's drooling on you.

I have a heart?

After a brief break.
And another check to make sure Paula was still breathing we
returned.
Dear lord where's Jeremy!

Screams could be herd Jesus Richard   it's no time for killing hookers
But 10 dollar beers  are a real kick in the ***.
Oh well Wyatts  gone he'll be missed.
this just in Taylor Swift to release her new single Why  Not  Jeremy!

Dear lord sweet sallys *** it was code she had taken him hostage
in the love of all things lady gaga  someone had to save my amigo.
except me  cause that ***** was crazy  and she's got a hell of a bite
im just saying  stay  strong   Jeremy  and think happy thought's

I could feel the ****** clamps and smell the burning flesh
from the car battery as we speak but enough  bout me and skeeters
personal life.

now its time for the weather with finally she's gotta mention Neva voice like a angel  Flores.
thanks Gonz that southern bombshell replyed okay in the south.

Alright Neva that was great  like i need to hear the weather.
I havent been outside in  seven years.

This just in Mr E  has been taken hostage in Cairo.
Well kids all i can say is as much as this hurts
we dont deal with terrorist  like we could raise a hundred bucks.

The bulletin came across the wire Raitch with a look of dont **** with me   Gonzo  although Pepples  thinks your okay in a ***** kinda pervert way.

All hells breaking loose  a all girls school for hot super models    
in trainng.
Baths  in shock and mock concern replyed oh dear lord.
I dont who has chops to cover such a story in short notice.
Raitch  Oh Baths I dont know either   ive herd  there ripping  each others clothes off   hair pulling its worse than a prison riot with
hot half naked strippers.

Baths kept speaking but in the name of chain gang women
i was lost deep in thought over ******* and world events
while downloading  pictures of Fergie eating a banana
what im a health nut okay.

Yeah I dont know who should go cover such a story right now hint.
Gonzo Baths and Ratich spoke like a tag team of terror hint!
Hey I should go shouldnt  I  ?

Yeah Gonz  ya think ?

With some ***** looks from the people who much like my family
wish id forget there names.
So they wouldnt have to join the witnness relocation program
i love it when they play hard to get.

Finally i was off the trusty Gonzo Report news van  waitting for me a bottle of wild turkey and some fine reading materials by that thinkers mag hustler waitting in the back.

There my amigos stood standing togather waving goodbye.
crying tears of joy hey is that a keg?
Chris on the turntables im beginnning to think it was a party.

But if Chris  was there just who was driving the Gonzo van!

The little dwarf laughed in glee as we flew threw town
like Charlie Sheen on a coke binge.
I was tossed around  like a beach ball at greatful dead concert
as finally   over the cliff the van flew.

There was a explosion that could be herd for at least a half a mile
course that was drowned out by the party.

The party was in full swing  finally Paula awoke.
Hey what the  hell happend and why is Trimman
******* my leg?

                                  
                                  Is Gonzo really Dead?  
    
    Will Jeremy Wyatt ever escape the *** dungeon of Taylor Swift.
                    
                        Will Richard Shepard ever put out a book
                        how kick lots of **** yet win the hearts of millions
                        and do a co write with lady GaGa and Mel Gibson?


                    Will Neva Flores  get ****** over her five second
                     mention hunt me down  and torture me for hours
                     im just saying  a girls got needs.


                    Will Paula Swanson  kick Trimman like a field goal
                                                    or just pass back out?

               Find out in the next action packed trillogy  called
                                          The Death Of Gonzo  

                       Untill  Next Time Stay Crazy Kids
Sorry for this long gonzo write my friends.
If i offend ya well if you dont wanna mention although this is done as a tribute  i understand  just let me know.

These are writes not poems but there ment to give ya a laugh
this isnt my most funny work  but hell one thing i'll never be i hope is boring  thanks for reading.

And if ya ever wonder if im this crazy in real life no way kids
im way worse cheers Gonzo
Harry J Baxter Jan 2014
It’s funny how despite different tastes
we all have a taste for music
my life has never felt complete
with a soundtrack. A beat
as a kid I was told not to fidget
told to just sit still
but my person was anything but chill
I have always had a thing for rhythm
I felt it in the way people speak
the way a husband sneaks around
keeping his wife trapped and meak
whether it is weak or strong
I could always hear that drumming song
It started with a rap song I heard
Hi My Name Is by eminem
but then again it had always been with me
it’s the reason time scares me
because in the beating tick of those two drum sticks
I could see the sound of life wasted
and it made me want to get wasted
black out drunk at fatal altitudes
when I was in middle school
we were angry
and disrespectfully spiteful
so we rocked long socks and listened to punk rock
then It was about being a bad guy
a real force not to be reckoned with
so we wore black Tshirts depicting violent scenes
and joined the screaming heavy metal mosh pit
a place to fit for all the kids who didn’t anywhere else
as I got older I put the heavy metal on the shelf
if I’m being honest it was all just a little silly
angsty teens with lofty dreams which they told us
were unattainable so we went out looking for cheap thrills
rather than develop any marketable skills
The first time I felt marketable
it gave me chills
The National in Richmond Virginia
an old theatre
converted into a sanctuary for the sanctimonious masses
to forget everything they learned in their classes
a place where kicked *****
wasn’t always a bad thing
I remember I was there
in the tenth grade
to see the Atmosphere show
because the lead singer - Slug
was my hero
his words enveloped me in a bear hug
which said you’re doing just fine kid
and in that crowd of tattoos and hipsters
and the ghetto kids wearing chips on their shoulders
I was high
but not on drugs
I was high on expressionism and the loftiness of ideas
The men behind the microphone
wearing a costume of stage lighting and swaggering egos
made me feel at home
for the first time in a while
they said things like God Loves Ugly
and Every Day Can’t be the Best Day
and the DJ’s worked the turntables
like a good lover brings their partner to ******
I didn’t know anybody else at the show
but don’t think for a minute that I was alone
we were all connected as brothers by bond and spilled blood
of our heros who were cut short before they could say the things
which we all needed to hear
We respect the story tellers
because it is how we come to terms with tougher aspects of life
and I was flying high on the dreams of kids just like me
saluting the scarred, worn, souls who had made it
who were making the path that we would one day walk
with the cut of their jive and the strength of their talk
***** of the walk
chalked outlines of the end of loneliness
They called us hop heads
and we’d reply
you’re ******* right we are
hip hop didn’t save my life
it just stopped me from taking me
for granted
I already wrote a poem about this night, but that was almost a year ago back when I really had no idea what I was doing with this poetry stuff. I love hip hop, It is a huge part of who I am today. "As a child Hip Hop made me read books, and Hip Hop made me wanna be a crook" - Slug of Atmosphere. If It wasn't for Hip Hop I would have never grown up to have confidence in what I say and how I say it. I know I have wrote a lot of poetry today and probably clogged your feed up (Thank you Adderall) but I really wanted to post this one. It is important to me and I hope you guys can at least relate. Probably won't be posting here for the rest of the day. Keep on scribbling guys
Harry J, Baxter
shireliiy Nov 2015
When you are away from home.from the basic food groups,the dutch producer http://www.ocdn.com.my/mobile/FitflopsMalaysia.asp  behind the record label Mixmash Laidback Luke spins the turntables for an evening.preferably a keyword that you are aiming for high search engine ranking in Fitflops Malaysia,That may well be awkward.Glue in the appropriate sight word copies,Tami's divorce lawyer played an significant part to get her a settlement and custody of her children Fitflop Malaysia Outlet.sign up for my online marketing system,Albion Online team thinks that the hacker simply brute forced the passwords. There will be an Agency Forum in which attendees can. Get some face time with active agents in all genres of touring including.I bear in mind I had a personal celebration in Staten Island for a huge Italian household,.is a full service internet marketing firm that prides itself on unparalleled service and performance, so Mr.and it's quite another thing to go as far as buying them a gift in recognition of their troubles.Why not do this together. Why not reward each other for several years of love and commitment with a spa day. Romantic touches of sweet scents and soft. Robes make everything more passionate men who do not remember even the most basic of events such as your birthday are most definitely not into you at all.and by not any suggests the very least the freedom from waiting times as well as border.Digital Age Marketing Group's search engine visibility is geared towards driving potential clients to your website Fitflop,Including an exotic flower arrangement to your gift basket will brings a new lightening to your adored ones occasion.Opinion at the moment is suggesting that non reciprocal or one way links are.
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Arbin Moreira Oct 2017
Sitting at the turntables,
The sound is the interchangeable,
The volume stirs,
The lyrics become blurry lines,
The channeling of the headphones and speakers,
It’ll be my last dose of the day and night.

The beat is still there,
The 808 rhythms,
My hips begin to move,
My arms begin to raise ,
Alone… I feel my personal rhythm vibrate.
With each and every gaze of the mirror I hate,
I begin to lose myself and encounter the serum of intimacy.

The 808’s come again,
Sucker punching my soul to match the tone,
Ough! My thoughts are deep beneath my bones,
Step by step I feel it coming,
The electrostatic symphony in my soul,
Surging through my breast,
A speaker wave travels through my fingertips.
This language becomes a buzz,
Sweat drips from my hair onto the crystal floor,
I swirl to the turntables and raise the volumes some more,
The 808’s are hitting me harder than then ever before.
I was always told I could kick it to the baseline,
With a body so aroused I feel the momentum making me numb,
Another step and I climaxed at the 808’s mixture,
Another round at the turntables and I hear the 808’s final whispers.
Bryce May 2018
Return late at night
34mph on the gangway
Decimated and tired
rotated and unstoppable

When I come back around the cul-de-sac
the green candle shines my return
Flag hangs big and ogreish
Waiting for something more

I replaced my turntable
Black and wood on wood desk
Grains matched unintentionally

On one speaker I placed my snowglobe
Big Ben tall and wide
Snow stirs when I play

On the other The Capitol
Big heavy white dome
Smaller and wider but still just as lost
Blizzard of turning particle

What mood do i turn to?
Daft and electronic
Queen of hearts and misery
Dance of mad villainy?

33.333333 repeating
An album cover to cover
slip safely in between
read the inherent vibrative tone
glide my eaten fingernail
And sing the songs through my teeth

33.33333 repeating
Songs forever maintained
Never compressed, just expressed
Saved into physical form

33.3333 repeating
Round and round Fibonacci of doom
Spiral totally in control
There is another side to this story I never knew

33.333 repeating
They were going to make movies on vinyl screens
with vinyl tape and vinyl face
Then we got cable

33.33 repeating
Mesmerized by the glide of the needle
softer than a lover's touch
sharper than an atomic clock

33.3 repeating
It will be time to flip sides
Soon I will know no evil
Only the darker satellite

33 repeating
I repeat:
Listen closely and find the spot

Queue it up and fall apart
Carlo C Gomez Jun 2021
Dangerman
—a buyer and seller
of mostly himself

Petticoat
—a ***** on the take
and about to slip

Each made promises to the other
but both loved journeys
and valleys
and limericks
and turntables
and spirits
and skirt-raising
and slowdives
and lip-biting
and come-hither
more than their here-and-now vow

Trigger-happy begetter
with an ax to grind
killing captives slowly
with jagged little things
it's the strangest sound
in spite of the plight of
the ringing in his ears
it never fades away

I reckon numbers and lead are arbitrary
to a button man
whose wheels turn circles
mainly in his skull
revolving/rouletting
as infinite go-around

Never mind though, the time must be now
for a show of hands

Motherhood waited in the ship's hold
until the treasure hunt
brought her to this final island
a choice between gold
and the aging ******

The young who suckle at her breast
might one day run mum through
with the sword at Payback
—that unsteady little homestead
where profit and loss
share the same face

Never mind though, the moment must be now
to ring the bell

And raise redemption
like a burning flag of regret
Hooflip Nov 2014
Im a teddy bear that’s off a vicodon
or 14
rather have a morphine n a line a done
It’s fine tho
Comfy, mad fluffy, cuddle buddy coming.
**** a bad *****, leave her mind blown

I’m on vinyl
Tapdancing on your turntables
Help an old lady cross the street
then I break her ankles
Tank full
Stole the sheriff car & i’m invincible
Peeling out until the wheels invisible

I’m on mission *****
To laugh & see some pretty ****
& if ya cry along or crack a smile
Well that’s some blissful ****

A ****** idiot
behind my eyes convinced me
That the beauty’s more important than the soul
& made me hideous

Well I was for a little bit
Saw the light , snatched it
Packed the bowl n then I took a hit
Look at this
Noodies from a stupid *****
The ***** thick
n ******* pop
i’m pickin up my jaw,
it dropped.
This **** n ***** been busy ****** carmel broads.

Floatin in a moat
like oh no I only had a door to go
That castles made of acid
& the king’s a ****** dinosaur.

I’m all kinds of flow
Myself, I wouldn’t mind to know
Or maybe that’s my mind just tryna hide
That I don’t wanna know

Sticker pickin,
Peelin leaving pieces
On the surface that accepted it’s adhesive

Fizzy twisted
Drizzy crying in my shower
Been trying to get him out for hours

***** I’m captain underpants
Runnin down the block & then I gun it back
Im out of breathe but **** I couldn’t let & go without a pack
Whats up with that, finger snap
The sky is the limit,
We’re all under that
Mind is never shut down
till the come down
better run now
I’m numbing & i’m tryna bust a nut
(BLOAW)

Girl you’re ****** beautiful,

She sleepin on me, couldn't even use my shoulder, Shoulder cold but how she doin me is colder,
it's cool, get it?
I made a pun about the temperature

I'm mad lame but less so because I said it first,

Up all night talkin to the stars
******* got kids like a brotha got bars
I'm hard
Waving it out of the window of my car,
I was sober & I crashed into a bar

That's ****** funny yo
Tummy go grumble
Flow hungry
order dominos

*****, where the **** my pepperonis at?

You ****** my pizza up n now my foot is floating towards your sack

Imagine that,

So demented,
***** i'm elvis with a head spin.
How you not ***** but them ******* melted?
You're welcome c;
er, thank you, for being bout the finest chick i've ever seen
& being nice instead of being mean.

I wish that you were single
Wish our skin could come together
Wish my tongue a chance to travel through your dress code
your neck go, in circles & circles
You ride it,
Your nerves all alive at one time
& my timing
Prone to make you moan a lot louder than you ever have
show you how it feel to *** a thousand times back to back
Can you use that body better than it looks?
Rattle back n forth, you roll that *** beyond the books
Lock it up, drop it down
******* bouncing to the rhythm
Of us pouncing at desires stuck within us...
**** you got a big ****
https://soundcloud.com/thehumbleloud/teddy-bear-tequilla-****-larry
Paola Apr 2017
So the clouds parted with the storm:
"This isn't us, this isn't our norm"

Seemed like no one wanted company
From someone they once depended for glee

**p. b. l. 04/18/2017
Funny, isn't it?
Ryan Bowdish Feb 2011
When you hear stalls emanating sobs
In cracked, ***** bathrooms, in between jobs
Drunk, gritting his teeth and getting buttfucked
By black men, grunting, as you stand dumbstruck,
Do you wonder how a man could be so down on his luck?
In a truck-stop graffiti-tiled bathroom in his white frock,
Trying to ignore the incessant crow of the ****,
Gagging between unforgiving ticks from the clock.

Sipping on beer, the **** bleeds from the cell
Spreading dollar bills over the ghost where he fell.
Pale-white, scraggly, he bends down for his cash
Using mental math to make the conversion from bills to crack.
Rope still dangling between his teeth, he drops the syringe,
Dragging a cigarette and counting his next binge.
Do you wonder if on the way to help, he just lost
His way? But he looks up to ask "the ******* want?

Are you throwing out an ad hominum argument?
Slipping into something like aluminum garments.
Throw me face down into the edge of a tar pit,
What are friends for?"

Kaysea, turn back, you don't want to touch it
Your lungs will turn black and your soul will be rusted
Over by doubt, self-deprecation and shame
You'll realize everyone else is exactly the same
Only you've changed. You don't need the shot
Lie sprawled, get sick naked in one spot (and rot)
Lest we forget the chains of superstitious fear,
The two of us would be lending bleeding ears.

Gotta wait for the grenadier to return
With the test results
What have we learned?

Gotta find the truth from within the turntables
What have you earned?

Misery loves company, and this is your catch.
You desire the freedom of looking at mirrors to retch
But it's not lucidity (you'll forget that a lot),
Just impulses revealing that which is not.
Your father'd die twice if that was your insight.
Do we all have the right to be in hell for a night?
There is a never ending layer of nicotine in my throat
And nostril scabs, and that's all she wrote, I hope.
this was my mood today. bottom. uuggh. ha.

(c) Ryan Bowdish, 2011
rained-on parade Nov 2017
Go on, dance with me now.
Your hands ticking away time       like a drumbeat,
               your radius hitting the table
with a knock
              on every door that has my heart     hidden
somewhere between dreams.              This orange
              October     sky, your laugh like       an earth
losing its spin,           axis alias         to your tongue.
               Forget me now then, we were never a race-
               track
burnt asphalt                   into your name, I was only
               a ship with a suicidal anchor,
crashing turntables         like the surface of the sea,
              our song stuck now in the echoes
                                                          ­     of the Atlantic.
You write lovesongs that make no sense
/
My lovesongs make no sense anymore.

10/2/17
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2016
dis- (negation of) -ease can take up so many forms of expression, the likely venture in a coffee shop with espressos variants and mocha coffee, or the lattes and something else.

which hardly means Paul McCartney dreaming
up *yesterday
or Robert Stevenson with dr. jekyll and
mr.vhyde
- when the weaknesses of yours
express themselves naturally - you accept them -
the only riches are bound to health -
all others care nothing - take away the able body
or the mind - and you take social realities -
i remember running wild with Peter and Ciarán -
slobbering off car parks on people's heads with spit,
surviving mugging, getting underwear-wedged on
park fences - deciding to smoke *** aged 21 for
the first time - listening to Limp Biscuit while
playing pool and donning Samuel L. Jackson Kangoo
hats john otto, take 'em to the matthew's bridge -
****'s sake, the who?! long gone. moths frantic right now -
we walked the mall, the bought artefacts before
digitalisation took over - and the book was lost
among toilet-paper heaps - 'cos when you need
a ****** to wipe his **** you need to write a book -
to feel seminal and human.
like the way Ilford high-street changed from Jew haven
into Bombaystan - that Ilford is mythical -
clever cue to suit a hardened worth of wearing tuxedo -
Maggie in the Sky filled with Piggy-stockpile Metaphors -
white boy rap - coo or undo clue - the same
**** precipitates into brown men in autumn
salivated together with oak drop leaves -
so hey ***, how's my solo? good or not good enough
to churn a mirror scene at a party?
'cos the cool kids "hang out", i guess **** of butter either.
as abandoned poetics had it: ensure it rhymes.
but it was me Peter and Ciarán on the weekend -
hell-raisers before i started smoking dope -
oh come on! i just turned 30 i'm allowed slang -
it's not unruly to rule the rubric with some sentiment
without wish for retirement -
ah man, that ****** in South Park - Ciarán just
hanging there in mid-air - got a g-string to boot -
i have to admit, the smart ones in England got out
of the education system aged 16 - the dumb-*****
made it to university - connectivity came in even if you
excelled - the smart ones got out aged 16 -
dumb ones like us with immigration a surrogate
family of ideas kept it up to university level and received
jiggly-squat of **** to get bothered in encouraging
attention to the idea of society - gave up, rebelled,
started singing X Ambassadors' song like Christmas carols -
readying ourselves for our parents to die,
watching our parents watching their parents die -
readying for the squat - as i once said:
i know a place where i can bottle clean Evian water -
you have to pass the centurion guards that might
kick you in the head if you try feeding them your
hand rather than a sugar-cube... but that's fresh water -
some *** left a ceramic tomb where the stream runs
free. or the maxim from high-school:
take a picture... it'll last longer;
it doesn't matter, aged 18 through to 21 i was sticking
******* into my mouth to imitate a Roman rite of
passage -
just when Eminem came out -
and wrestling was a beehive with Kane and the Undertaker
and StoneCold - cheeky chic wahwah on the turntables -
but **** me that ****** on the park fence
by a centimetre missing Ivan the Impale(r)'s tactic -
at this point can come like an e-mail,
that @ stamp can **** itself... i'm ready...
it's the cinema that no one bothers with -
there for the taking - spitting on a man's head
from a car-park uppermost level -
getting ****** for the first time with white lightning
cider. Pete? lost his teeth, got a mother of a beauty's
worth of **** last time i met him in a pub -
Ciarán became a nightclub door gorilla -
well, you know my story -
it's hardly the twinning of the Krays -
although that was on the cards -
last time the high-school people were together
we were at the Beckton bowling-alley
jumping into plastered fake walls head-diving
until i broke the wall with a cranium of an elephant's
worth of horizontal canon-ball gravity propeller;
mind you, Beckton stinks of **** in the high
season of the recycling harvest - A13 via Barking?
i'm not too sure - i never bothered to learn to drive -
i took the Chinese route - bus stop wankers? sure.
bicycle wankers? tell that to the Beijing horde -
shame i boxed Ciarán's kidneys in once before
we were lessened in B-tech queuing to enter class.
Still puffin' cigars in my sixty six jaguar
Made a hood star from climbing a far
**** the drug games I made my name
Through lyrics of pain easing ya migraine
Words pure as Columbian *******
That's means you'll go insane
Tryna hang with the dark Knight Bruce Wayne
Which means ya mentallydrained going
derange
My smiff n wesson lays a nice range
From the Midwest to the south of Central Texas
Get love from my barrio we stay thorough
Haters get marked like zorro  so follow
The leader beat pleaser turn ebenenzer
Once I spit vocals take over ya locals
Can't Max  me out my own **** hardest to hit
Ya swear it's back in the year of nine six
Slammin' all of the these industry clowns like Jordans did the Knicks
A Timely essence
Even if I'm chillin' with the dead residence
you'll still feel my presence no hesitance
To foes stained ya calicos wake ya up with a cup of
Flow
and I stay smokin' girls ******* holes setting fires to their mentals

My flows set on auto pilot causing riots
Baltimore rage untamed had to put my rhymes in a cage
Seen the guage
Cocked back ain't no taking away from that
Deaths in progress only blessing you seen
Is stress so take another hit of cannabis
Before you enter the eternal abyss hang ya body over the
cliff
Like Big Red record every word I said
And still can't get a word to the feds I'm the black
Hoover
got flats from Houston to Vancouver
Let me show ya who's the real bruiser
Spittin' rhymes that lay more bodies than Fallujah
Cruise right through
tha
My rhymes is tank shootin' missles with no
thanks
I'm only here to live out
My fathers prank
Though the devil keep me above all levels
Tryna stay from the goods I was made rebel
Fools thought they was Cain til they found out I was
abel
Killin' em with microphone cordless cables and
turntables
Read between my eyers n you'll see visions of many
halos
Escape Sep 2015
You don't wanna hurt me but you say ''Won't you stop,
you talking about love but you only got words''

and you ask me ''What's making you not lose hope
when there is so much distance between our worlds
It's sad to hear but I was just passing
nothing serious, like someone leaving in the morning
don't hold on me cuz i'm nothing good for you
I'll make you feel what you don't wanna go through
cuz I'm just as lost as you honey''



See, I hate when you are so indecisive
and I hate how your love has been addictive
how can it feel so good when it ruins me emotionally
maybe i'm attracted to what's gonna destroy me
and I know you like to start this wicked game
but i don't care now, you've made a mess of me
let's turntables and play this wicked game again
I'll make you beg when you get closer to me



you've had me from the start
I still can't control what you've been doing to my heart
and I often go through this phase
I fall down and just get lost in a haze
and i can't bear that I love you
I can't bear that you're all i want and need
I wish it was different with you
but anyway I know that I'll never win
you're so unreachable
Jessica Rojan Sep 2010
It's beyond me I swear
This will get me every time
So breakable, so malleable
These thoughts, they are not mine.

Turntables of transformations,
Ghosts of reasons past,
They swear up and down, they do,
But it's the logic in them that lacks.

Caressing tragedy and levitating love,
My lungs are filled with poisonous air,
Spiraling curves of crazy and impossible,
These thoughts they do not care.

Taken down by all forces,
I seem to strong to be this weak,
My energy leaves the body,
My soul can barely speak.

Patterns of places,
Once familiar to my mind,
Take over my senses,
These thoughts they are not kind.
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
ZCS
What i should do is a product of the mind
when enlightenment hits its like these eyes go blind
And I find, in our bind, we are ones who knew
just along for the ride in the same canoe

releasing that aura so black , when i hack
the realization far from knowing no I can’t go back

animal sign in that creature may you reach your spirit with a clarity
to find that YOU ARE YOUR OWN TEACHER
the feeling from this healing
so sensitive I’m numb
the pounding of my heart  is like a silent soul drum

This travel of a trance, unraveled from a glance
the false turntables, a mt Everest avalanche.
____
Words, phrases and meanings
is what my unconscious is seeing
tendencies leaving, no harm meant
started with good intent

then  was haunted by demons
I then repressed, was oppressed
next regressed but stepped, leaving negative feelings dis/integrated
…..
ritualistically disgustipated
with the feelings that exists
for the double harmonix 5ths

1 heal the knows that stick
2 rewind the now realized fallacy
3 circle ceremony of sanciti
dedicated to the greatest ME

holotropic state lacks eviscerate
imported government a copy of a state
…..

concentrate at a constant pace
can’t stop nor wait
but modulate out of figure 8s
as we conquer stakes
know we’re found, hold it down
or regurgitate.

Before a studded alter, I kneel.  
I have been here an eternity.

A single sphere traps me in the moment,
and slows my understanding to the meter of the sacred moment.  
Judging proceeds.  

Every possibility of my

responses to be analyzed in their intention.  
I shall prove
worthy.  

My intention is pure and I only try to harmonize with the true frequency of the highest reality.  

I shall know what I look for.  
Know it intimately and deeply, to the point of full empathy between the object and self.

Realize the truth of myself.

Dream.  My credence.  
Love.  My code.
Gigi Tiji Nov 2014
we go so deep
that we forget
what's on the surface,
it's a slide, steep
and our fear is
on the playground,
while our focus  
sleeps

we bounce thoughts,
off our paddles
as we serve
linguistic ping pong *****

mischievous baboons.

we tug on playful balloons,
skipping on ribbons,
in the rubber pastel
dances of the shifty winds,
fluttering flocks of
glowing grey moons

we turn tables
like turntables,
on tilted roofs

we lay silent, slanted
kissing devil hooves
two thousand and fifteen 
we still.on the same scene
 1989 to now i see the
Hidden powers with raise eyebrows
 cuz i refuse to be a mule a fool 
to the system
 learned how to read
 since i got only one vein they wanna bleed 
me wipe me 
out but the power is here to stay
 so forget what the media says 
we all as one and one as all
together we'll fall don't be a sucker
to the voting because
ya ballots aint valid? get it? got it ? 
good still down for my neighborhood
 but it seems they can only throw block parties but scared to rally the city halls claim they gangsta? 
but hide behind a tainted smile and how the hell.is everything ok? 
when police smokin' us everyday
 month to year no ones drops a tear 
im in yo mind so i know ya
hear me clear
We gotta....


terminator x
 hittin' ya with the wrist flex 
so the turntables in check
The rhymes is in prospect
 i gotta get respect its earned no given
 who do you believe in?
 dont follow a man made God cuz he led me to slavery
 back when they used to beat us
and pick cotton for free society
 is all ****** up got these kids corrupt
they dont know real from.fiction 
it was a well known prediction
from page to page i seen the elite grow enraged
 scared of a revolutionary 
we had Malcolm Martin' Marley
forget that fool Barkley
 he takin' us wayyyyy back
 i ask for slack 
but once they know you black
 they willingly ready to attack
 so what if ya put ya hands up ?
you'll still get popped in ya temple
its simple how bout we do a raid 
give em a flash of a gun blast 
bringin' much sunshine
 leavin' no room for shade
 yo im ready!!!! to fight the power!!!
Lauren Gorger Jan 2015
Is it possible to harbor "too much" love?
Does it blind those that look into these eyes, like when you look directly into the sun?
My eyes are tired and burn in the darkness of night, and I'm not sure if that's a relfection of being one with the light or being tired from this endless fight.
We spin on turntables of various perspectives.
The tables turn and our hearts turn aggressive.
A voice that shakes like unstable breaks, makes me want to thank the way these words easily become written all over my face.
You don't have to look too far, just look into my eyes - a demise that is out of sight.
It might be the right time to end all that should die inside of these rhymes.
Maybe I'm right, maybe I'm wrong, but that is the beauty in life - we still have the freedom to create our own song.
So, we walk.
We walk to the beat of our dreams, yelling "**** what you see me to be, I believe in all the words that they never could sing to me!"
Aggression gently hidden by a message.
Answers, always ridden on the wrong end of the question.
This is my confession - I walk to a song of everything I reckon, through these turntable eyes.
Recognize, my demise won't be televised.

- L.G
Andrew T May 2017
As the beat breaks,
the floor trembles,
the records spin, and we
all dance
on the hardwood floor
covered in spilt beer
cocktail napkins,
at a house show in DC,
where I'll always remember
rushing on the stage
and waving my cellphone,
as though I brightened
the light in a beacon
tucked away in a lighthouse
on a grotesque rock formation,
in the corner of the James River.
I studied her movements:
tiny and minute,
enough to bring exposure
to the deejay scratching records
on a set of turntables,
cut from a maple tree.
The lights cut off,
like a road raged driver
who maneuvers frantically
around my vehicle,
this vessel containing my space,
personal and untouched,
a lonely cabin in a dense forest.
Now I'm considering whether
I should break the beer bottle over
the bar booth, or send her an emoji, a meme, or a gif,
to let her know my heart
possesses multitudes,
beyond the scope of your timeline. Found life in
the bottom of a Murakami Well
deeper and larger than the cavern
behind the hidden waterfall,
in a tourist attraction in Chattanooga.
This is for when I'm sorry; make me
forget
about drawings you’ve sketched
on the back of your pair of converses.
So do me a solid,
give me the first home video
of your newborn crawling around
the carpet, or the dance floor.
And then tell me why can't I be great too.
NeroameeAlucard Oct 2016
You scratched the record
And now my head is back on repeat
It goes over that same beat
Over and over again to the point where
I don't even wanna attempt to speak

If silence is golden
Then I'm the biggest known mine
Because it feels as though I've been skating over myself when putting words into rhyme
Always the same topics from me and not to interesting metaphors

You scratched it like a DJ on turntables because I'm winding up to the end of this fable, I can still write and I'm more than willing and able but I gotta stretch my muscles again before I lose the sharpness on my pen, that's my sword
Ryan R Latini Aug 17
Every time I eat here,
I wonder if she’s still in the restroom.
I watch the cakes orbit
On refrigerated turntables—
a silent waltz for the ballerinas running omelets and coffee.
Back when she excused herself to the restroom,
the hostess was probably still in diapers.
Hate us hate us hate us hate us



Check my guns that bust flow platinum plus
Got the game on tarantula rap Dracula
Suckin' the game dry from the bullets that fly across ya head like a taste of high
Reverse my birth so I can make worth hit em where it hurts
Pockets felt from the death delt fear smelt
Under my enemies embrace my energy faster than a black hole outta space you outta place you an alien
Tippin'out of bounds what's that sound? Bodies hittin' the grounds once my voice sounds
On the mic you know I get the bids right grip it tight tighter then a virgins pliers amplier set to higher
The more the degrees the more they fall to the knees in pleas my guns sneeze
Givin' bless you night line specials
Read across the board becoming a hoard
A lost demon breathin' none relievin' souls retrievin' got em teethin' yo who do you believe in?
Better say Yosef or my gats to ya melon becomes explosive made ferocious guerillas known to be  killas focused on scrillas got a a few villas
Me classa Bentleys on the front of my castle I got greyskulls and a closet full
Of mics and turntables breakin'any label thought you was Cain til I was Able
To knock ya down buried ya crown found
By arche-ologist I suggest your best bet its to bow to my set a super threat none could hit
Bars harder than the me ruthless as the Bush adversary who am I just another waitin' to die
Retrace my thoughts in the sky made for wise no ties visualize my sinister enterprise make spirits between womens thighs glare in her eyes she catch my phallus rise and then becomes re- energize
Makin' a pride a lion that hide his true identityto infinite and beyond compared to none some call me Satan
Cuz I be the luminous one flash out a gun sparkin' targets regardless Ill always get hits
On the chart sticking like darts part
The seas and the lands from my energy that spans elastic as rubberbands stand against my clan ya bound to be left with a ****** tan



......
Akira Chinen Jun 2017
The world spins and fear turns into hate and hate boils over into blood and blood spills and innocence finds itself taken away into the arms of death and mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers are left with emptiness in their hearts and its becoming too much to bare and I wonder what can we do to change the winds of fate from fanning the flames of ignorance and intolerance and if it isn't greed perpetuating the gears of war what is the reason we still fling bombs and bullets and sacrifice our youths instead of non-violent intellectual debate and if we have the capacity to grow and learn why is that we choose to blindly go where we know no one wins by teaching our kids the same hate filled rhetoric on broken down turntables spewing fear filled songs of hate calling for some unknown enemies blood were on some heroic battlefield taking a strangers life isn't an act of ****** but done for the good of the people in name of god and country and if ****** is being done for the good of the people can we really call ourselves good people and what is the point in saying all men are created equal when at some point in life it becomes so easy for some to believe they are superior in some shape or form over someone of a different color a different *** a different faith a different taste a different social class and its killing me to see so much misery in a world that at this point and in this day of age we have had the ability to evolve into a more compassionate and empathetic species but we hold onto bad habits and old crimes all while trying to bleed a dime from a dead penny and every one would rather pull the blinders tighter to their heads and look the other way because it's business as usual and a shame is a shame but what you going to do in a world that spins and spins no matter how horrific the 24 hour news turns from day to day and it seems life's best bet is a bet against us because lets face it the birds and the bees and the trees will all sing songs of peace when all of us are gone baby gone but I got to wonder if even death would deny taking us all in fear of knowing wherever we go we're bound to **** it all up again and again and again and...
Vener Jun 2018
Beer bottle lights,
Upright gentlemen with silver linings
Spinning records on thumping turntables
The wretched melody of infidelity
An ode to the root of all evil

Staggered stupor,
Dripping poison from the serpent's tongue
Heated memories, tentative bites,
Broken homes.
Dreams swallowed by shattered spikes

Heightened sugar rush,
Frantic gestures,
A reckless tango,
Changing tides,
A newfound gift to be held
Soon to be torn apart

A strand of hair,
Crooked past reflections
The forbidden fruit of artificial boundaries
A tangled web of repetitive excuses
Decisive nods

Barren walls,
Torn frames,
Passive regrets,
Tightened knots,
A gust of wind,
Fin.
A mini story turned into a poem :)
Shannon Jeffery Oct 2014
Today's another day
Just like the rest
I sit here pondering
With my thoughts all a mess

Imagination whirling
On turntables inside
And all I can come up with
Is this repeated style of write
Masterpiece lyrics check the swordfish I dish
Kiss a death wish dismiss wacks off of my list
Check my program holding grams double grands
Millions of followers in the stand high rage demands
Still shooting holding looters with da clan thoughts planned
Carefully maybe it's crazy that I'm off the purple hazey
Royalty like Musa watch for the Medusa choosers
With my lovers undercover mother's scraping utters
Haters stutters but smooth like butter over cakes
Icing mic sounds nice and slicing kills enticing
Riots to melees lyrical savagery ghetto Socrates
Touch the whole nation calmly blaze stationary
500 serie benzie rolling on twinkies  girls badder than Pinky
You can tell I'm stinky from the rza's pores rapin the turntables
You know I'm able once I came with Cain ease no pain
Orange juice see ya girl dancing with me in the rain
No strains sick half brained cut off the freebase lane
Moves Swifty higher bid dynasty who defying me?
Close shop sceneries got more spills than a refinery
Oil blood spoils murders loyal bite the thick pollos
Season off the bicho pendejelos catch bullet holes
Can't shake this cold rhyme scaffolds Sonny goals
Gangsta **** hard to hit so guard ya **** code legits
Too ill to quit once I clock the hammers jammers
Souls in my chambers known as a slammer **** ya
King of the ****** Sam's I am eat green eggs and ham
Off the chain ridges left off the membrane rusty stain
Rogue embraced make ya powerless manifest
The darkest power to shower you can't flex the sour
Patch chrome rachets shooting like rockets pockets
Picked off the fakery bakery cakes to a higher degree
See the big Yosef illmatic linked with the Wu- Family



Cultivate actions black statues chillin' on Staten
Island yo that boy Yosef wilding no gliding patents
Inventist Solomon notary pointed as a bliss crisp
Off of the beat stickiest sweets mellow beats
Let my melanin groove to the heats of the greets
BPM watching for the grims circlin' above the rims
I stay sky high birds eye view guns dipped in cocoa
Chocolate within cursed a win inside of a sin blend
Never sip Henny under any weather how can ya endeavor
The words is clever to connected to sever however
I'm still on top hard not to cop let the head bop crops
Sitting over major land rolling black hands glands
Filling chumps knock out the humps in the page
No slaves here adhere the glowing spear pierce a pier
Boating rhymes an ocean coastin' **** a notion
Negative swayers catch the AK'ers wicked players
Street monopoly capitalize property plus the forty
Acres can't shake us or take us we grave stakers
Stalk ya very walks smooth talks of a iller chiller thriller
Like Jackson mad action Cuban links for satisfaction
**** laced so I can get a stars ******* taste wait
It's too late I'm tripping tipping off braille faith relate
To the reals fake posed for a natural shield mad grills
Looking for ways to rotten ya wills afloat the bill
Capitol Hill cycling shills let's make a deal for real?
Stimulus checks ain't nothing but left over drug bust
Keep it on the hush Hilary still eating the crust
Off of the American lies
see the eagle wings failed must have caught a crimp in its eye
Yo check it my raps jello,
Say hello,
Snub nose or shot gun barrel,
Flows to ya article,
Oops I mean ya mental,
No time for sentimentals,
Break the structure,
Raptures I captures,
Gathering 144 thou,
Words like how art thou,
Black Shakespeare, saw glowing eyes at the pier,
Rhyme lagoon, swarm by the cocoon,
Of spirits,
Open sharply, my ears you can hear it,
Butterfly effects,
Once the turntables is set,
Old school petey wheat straw,
Robert Johnson,
And Howling Wolf, with the chainsaw,
Grinding acoustic music,
So it hard to abuse it,
Dig these blues, can't blow the fuse in it,
Cosmic essence,
Relive past in the present,
Suckas hesitant,
Cuz my aim is persistent,
Golden glory,
Gifted go past the distance,
Harry Balfonte soul,
Kicks like Mr Mayagi so,
I'll keep blowing this jam,
Til the amps is smokin',
No jokin', corner block hustlers locin',
Put the key in the box,
Trunk see smells, of pounds of skunk,
I let it em know,
From the gitgo,
We flow to how the music go,
This ain't a shame,
This is a real life spiritual,
Open up ya melons ain't no tellin',
It's the rhymes of the century,
That's what most folks are yellin',
wichitarick Apr 2020
RIGHT IT IN A SONG


Was it wrong to write it in verse, how often does feeling good become a curse

Positive annotations bring out good vibrations switching emotions from deep inside

Marking time still stuck in slime, simple rhythms  or tones to make my mood reverse

Internal grudges needing nudges, memorable melodies forcing fonder sensations outside

Morning madness  our Peace on lease, forget the violence wishing the silence will resound

Many saying what is this all about, singing smiles carry clout teaching us to take it in stride

Seeking comfort for my soul as a role not as a sound, even with my mind and body in rebound

Silence is deafening new notes bring reckoning, broken hearts repaired, anxieties pacified

Await unknown musicians to soothe sensations, lives weight not as great when we hear it unwind

Twirling turntables send tones soft as sable ready to bring us from a quagmire of quotients ready to release us until we are ratified. R.C.
Not hard to find a story or supposed study telling us how we can be helped or guided or even hurt by sound. although I left the hurt part out of this one
I know my own connection to music and sound is deep and has evolved through my life,now even as trigger truly shows how deep seated it can be in out brains.,I know seeking and finding  GOOD VIBES is more often my goal now, it can be those moments of true freedom  we find that will alter out entire day.PEACE TAKES PRACTICE. your input in helpful .Rick
Anna Apr 2021
We never wanted a house, the kitchen, the foyer. We could give barely a ****, really. We just wanted a room, a desk, ceiling to floor bookshelves filled with books and windows that overlooked tops of large oak trees. We wanted the sunlight all morning and afternoon, the rain, the vines that grow around the windowsill and music from old turntables spilling through the storm. We wanted the groves of apple trees and strawberry bushes for our morning walks and the expanse of the entire cosmos for our viewing pleasure during the evenings. We wanted prancing on mountain tops and kissing the sublime in paddle boarding excursions and free diving to a pod of sleeping ***** whales. We wanted sunlit art studio with watercolors and oil paint and graphite pieces on thick white paper and raw clay on the wheel and ***** splattered aprons on wooden stools. We wanted
wrote this sporadically throughout the day

— The End —