Flashing

You used to be the gem of the ball
all the people who mattered can tell you
they remember your face
they took pictures of you, all around flashing lights
the memories they had of your beauty seemed so bright
love, you were the dame
that every man wanted to be flaunting
when their abstinence no longer remained
but the photographs they got you to autograph
are now becoming stained
they don't seem to recognize the wet spark inside of the old flame
you're losing your brain
soon headlining obituaries, but magazines will no longer feature your name
people suddenly aren't in to you and won't schedule an interview
cause something seems to to eating away at what was left sane
the closeups are getting dim
and 'Missed by All' will be the next caption that they place,
laced inside your frame
surrounding your old pictures
no one wants the new portraits
the feelings the crowd had now have become forfeit
it such a sad sight, seeing your photograph lapped with black roses
people frequent the funeral, hoping to strike poses
they were with you when you had it all
then they gracefully watched you fall
and tip toed around your pain
like rain against gravitational forces
why did you let them let yourself crash
and begin to rehash all of the photo flashes
except nowadays, all you get is the negatives
but I miss the old you
the you that no one really seems to remember
they just blew you full of smoke and pick away the embers
I miss the gem, that I cherished more than others
I miss talking like we used to, I miss you Grandmother.

Love In Blue Pt. I

She told me she wished her world was painted over
so I decided to imbue it with the hue of blue
so I can erase clouds in the sky,
make an endless sea for the stars
if she doth cry
there is no outline for the scars
I'd use my brush to paint the oceans
whisk the white wisps of the waves
create calmness in the motions
leave no danger in the swell of the bay...

To Be Continued...

On The Road to West Egg Playlist II

So, its been delayed, but here it is. Another installment to my playlist, the greatest effing playlist to hit the masses. So, picking up where we left off, ther is Mew's Succubus. Jesus, this song is incredibly hard to find, espicially on the internet. I don't event hink its posted on YouTube. After a couple of searches, I found a version of it, and while it may not be the one I know and love, it will do for now. I just purely enjoy this song, for its simple yet effectice progressions and its beautiful singing, courtesy of Jonas.



http://www.last.fm/music/Mew/_/Succubus



My next pick in the line up is Joe Buddden's "In My Sleep". Now, I have been listening to Joe since around 2002, and to be quite honest, his earlier material is phenominal, much more so than his recent stuff. But after hearing this track, from the drums to the synth to the lyrics, whoa. Just whoa.



And last, but certainly not least for this week, here comes arguably my favorite rapper after NaS, Wasalu himself. This track, "Theme Music to a Drive-By" was originally the intro to his debut album, but after the notoriously epic event of all his ish getting leaked, he scrapped the song. Shame, really, this track is by far one of the best, if not the best, standalone Lupe song. The Batman metaphors and the social commentary wrapped in clever walls of words say it all. Sadly, you can only find it on YouTube chopped'n'screwed. I guess it'll have to do.


It seems like this will have to be hunted just like Succubus. Good Luck. Peace out 'till next time.

Remora

No, Remora, sound, symbolic, or nature wise as nothing to do with the Great Gatsby, fact. However, he is a good friend of mine, fact, and seems to know what he is speaking about, fact. So, he will be a new commentator on the blog, dealing with facts and opinions ranging from movies to music to the video game medium in rare form. The blog will therefore become expanded more or less in the next few weeks as I prepare it to work between us, and maybe even a third member if he doesn't act like the lazy ass we've all come to know and love. Or maybe he'll pull an Adonis and start his own blog who knows. In any case, while I am here talking I might as well bring up something random. Avatar is the Star Wars of my generation. Holy CGI, that movie was captivating, it was entertaining, it was gorgeous. For a movie that I eventually held so low expectations for, (let's be serious, most movies just cannot live up to the hype) it was well worth the time, trouble, and movie to go and view it. And believe you me, once I make it back stateside, I will be obligated to watch it yet again, presumably in an IMAX theatre. In any case, its getting late, I will be signing off until tommorow. Expect a West Egg update my readers. Peace.

Thinking of her...

thinking on the day, sitting at home
not knowing what to say but picking up the phone
dial tone erased by numbers dialed at a rapid pace
my love, my love, today we're going to the beach
to see seashells sunken into the shore
it reminds me how your love resonates in my heart for sure
the waves pull in and out, but never really leaves its place
like how memories of you flow when I can't see your face
but I replace my temporary sadness with joy as soon as you state
your love, gravity like how it holds me down
it only produces a frown when I have to let you go
my love, my love, today we're going to the beach
and I'm going teach you hold to the horizon in your hand
so that you can feel the way I do when I hold you in mines
like sunshine in my soul, true beauty in my eyesight
learning how to keep you forever seems to be my only plight
but my love, my love, we're going to the beach
so lets push our problems to the side
enjoy the ride as the sun sets over us by the sand
know that I will always be there as I hold your hand
my love, my love.

Louisa's Sunshine

Note from the Editor:
So, instead of updating you with a essay full of notes concerning the songs of West Egg playlist (you can find an update on those joints soon though), I decided to hit you with a throwback poem and then some. After recently noticing that my old partner in crime Adonis, or better yet D.A., has joined a poetry click named Modern Epics (find them at http://xxmodernepiicsxx.blogspot.com/ ) I suddenly felt an urge to write. Not so much because I was inspired, but because my competitive streak arose in me once I learned that I was not invited to join the group, especially with the knowledge of me being the shit. That is sarcasm folks, FYI. All jokes aside, I decided to pen some thoughts down in prose, as you may have noticed, and I think it all came out dope, but as I was looking through my archives I noticed a poem I wrote a while back that kind of clicked with a song that I love at the moment, which incidentally shares the same sentiment in its rousing finale that I did when i wrote the piece, so I decided to post both. I hope you enjoy it all people, whoever reads this. Peace out until next time.

i woke up this morning with my eyes closed
Hi's and goodbyes flow idly by pass my head
as i lie in my bed, body froze, hair thrown
this dazed look scribbled on my face says i don't know how to replace
this hole in my chest
i peer out my window and see the moon's crest
caress the sky, and wonder why the sun is at rest
then it hit me like new paint to turpentine
its like the blind trying to find sunshine
how i love you its a hopeless hope
as he gropes in the dark awaiting the luminous spark
he can feel the heat when he reaches out his palms
feeling calm in the presence of the star he cant see,
he cant view the UVs glistening like how i ll go whispering
in your ear when you are near
knowing you'll leave my embrace at the daybreak
is a synonym for the blind man at nighttime as he waits
for the sunrise to surmise is like me pondering your thighs
when the open
why am i such a token, why am i so broken
waiting on bells to ring
lying like a sundial on uneven tile
i guess the early birds will never sing
the blind man could never for see what the sunrise will bring
but seeks it like a fool, like how you see me as a tool
i wait on you like the unseeing waits for the sun and horizon to kiss
for if it is missed, joy ceases to exist
but yet he cant see it anyway,no thanks to blinking
but yet you'll never love me like i do you, the blind only sees wishful thinking
yet if it comes, his grief in this world becomes undone
like your bra strap in my hand, and i feel as if its apart of the plan
no words will be said, no need to speak
cause at its peak, its becoming when we take in the heat
but eventually, the sunrise must meet its demise
and sunset sets the stage for the night's reprise
only then will the blind will find someplace to lie
and you and I won't need sunshine to see the tears in my eyes

Rock City

So I spent the majority of the day posturing around, picking up big ass blue travel luggage, eating sub par airport and fast food...food, and being terribly uncomfortable all in an effort to make it to the beautiful rock that is St. Thomas, the place my father calls home. As I went through the day, different thoughts about life somehow came about, the first being love, and what a relationship truly means. I usually cover up tons of my seemingly absent feelings and emotions, as most testosterone driven men (or people o be politically correct) do, but I suddenly craved my girlfriend to my surprise and dismay. Dismay may sound a little harsh to use in this instance, but its the context of my disappointment I want to convey, as when I don't see her for days, I miss her, but not as much as I did the instant I got on the first plane this morning, and mind you, I just saw her no less than 24 hours before. I also got the thinking on my ex, again. What the fuck. I notice so many things once they are behind me, like a shadow clipping on your heels once you turn the lights on. I treat her so unjust at times, but expect her to treat me with the up most awesomeness just because most of the blame falls on her when the subject of the dissolving of our love, or maybe just mine, comes to a conversation. I really appreciate her, but resent her with the up most passion, just like I resent having to drive on the effing left side of the bloody street every time I visit St. Thomas. I don't now what exactly it is, but I feel as if I am wasting my time here, yet seeing my grandmother slowly become more and more delusional its making me happy I can see her at least one more time...yet I wish I didn't have to be subjected to the fact. On the same token, my father's cousin has passed within hours of us visiting this rock, reminding me that time is of the up most essence. I utterly understand the value of this trip, of this time, but am I wrong to be weary of spending it? This thought process is going nowhere, just like me for the next week and a half. Life, the subservient slave of time. I wish I could blow it quicker than a New York Minute. Maybe.

Thoughts of Pandora

what a fool i am to preceed, but holding her box in my hands
i feel power belonging to God's plan as she stands for a seed
but maybes its how i please her mind, curiosity flows fast
as i glance past her faults, wary of the cracks
how she pines for me is divine, even if its a facade
i'd ignore their oasis to live in her mirage
she gives me love, what some reckon a disease
but it keeps me rooted, i never fall like my leaves
or maybe it's a drug, if i'm high in her eyes
as she lies, onto me or otherwise
she never sighs, just opens up to me,
i never let her go, because enough is never enough
another's love isn't up to snuff, but maybe i should still bare farewell
because sooner or later the well will bare hail
but i think ill stay with her beause how ever will i cope
how can she be so bad when she's still full of hope?

Atychiphobia

The echoes of my dreams act as revelry to awake the hell in me
so if you're waiting on redemption, you're shit out of luck
because the buck stops even after the camera rolls
so if you don't recognize the real to reel, then you're stuck like Chuck
these misconceptions are the miscarriages in communication
so if you drop the seeds, failure is your best expectation
that's why I don't expect nothing but the worse
cause if nothing is really there, then nothing can get hurt
it may be a pessimistic but I deem profitable
giving it all away to forget myself seems hospitable
they disagree, telling me I should live
but you can't live to the fullest when there's no more to give
and I should get out more but I don't see a point to try
you can't be under the weather if you never go out to see the sky
so I don't cause sometimes, I think the heavens may fall
or maybe that's what happens if your heads' in the clouds
like the hands in the crowd or leaves in the fall
Autumn may just crash and burn, come to kill us all
watch the trees sway, don't stay like the levees
get buried by the earth and dirt like Joe Pesci
in Casino, the mother gave birth but didn't like what she got
wish something more had came up out of the slot
like Jackpot, nickels and dimes, pennies for my thoughts
quarters for my problems, Jack Daniels till I forgot
all the pain, like rain from the sky for tears
hurricanes for sighs, why do we even try
not to be be nice, it seems so out the way
like lines in the corner of our eyes or that time I didn't know what to say
but I wish I could speak up and converse with a higher man
I wish I could understand the plan fate makes us
I don't know where this road is supposed to take us
I guess that's why I'm surprised my ex calls after we break up
...
and says that she is fine
I know she is lying I can hear smeared tears and running make up
and I don't know how my girl is really taking us talking
she says that she's chill and won't start hawking
my shit, but knowing my luck she'll flip the fuck out and pick a
weapon of choice like Christoper Walken
but I hope she ain't walking away from our future
cause if I could I'd be loving her since my past
even though I'm bound to cause stress
how long can this last before shit gets trashed?
and all the memories you have end up like film
everything works until theres' only negatives left,
I'm waiting on the flash
but before they develop, I'll probably bail bruh
God knows I go to sleep every night knowing I'm a failure.

On The Road to West Egg I

So, if you may or may have not noticed, there is a playlist on the right side of the blog. I plan on making the greatest playlist ever known to man. I will be dissecting every song that I place on that list for your reading and hearing pleasure, and hopefully providing a transition suitable for the songs I mention.

"Cover Me Slowly" and "Agoraphobia" by Deerhunter.
Beautiful, just elegant sounds blending with each other that flows easily. A great way to start off any listening session, the two songs move as one with "Cover..." being an intro of sorts to "Agoraphobia", with the latter providing excellent PIMA techniques and fret work, with a crazy synth ladden end. The somber lyrics ("Feed me twice a day/I want to fade away", "I am losing my voice/but I have nothing left to say") pack on more emotion to this already great song.

"Suture Up Your Future" by Queens of the Stone Age.
Deerhunter segways into what maybe my favorite Queens song in existence. While I personally don't have any great feelings towards Josh Hommes' last escapade with QotSA (Era Vulgaris sucked to me, to be quite honest.) this song stands out from that Frisbee of an album and the groups whole catalogue as a whole. I recognize Hommes' brilliance when it comes to making frantic, balls to the wall epic sex filled masterpieces, but him working this song's mellowness and bringing it out slowly with mounting bass throbs to occasional minor chords to and epic breakdown and back is him at his finest. Not to mention, the lyrics are on point ("I don't care if it hurts/just so long as its real"). Well played sir, well played.

"Californication" by Red Hot Chili Peppers.
It's effing "Californication". "Nuff said.

Catch the nest three songs next week, peace.

The Art of Forgetting

So, I recollect from me sleeping one night a couple months, I had a couple of dreams. To be honest, I really don't remember too much from them at all, except one happened to be very, how can I say, vivid? Yeah, vivid. I remember it all too much really. It had started with me in bed, and then she came in. All I could see was her figure in the shadows and a little of her face, but I already knew who she was. She came to the edge of the bed, put her knees forward, crawled over towards me, and kissedme . She started speaking soft, climbed on top, and you can use your imagination after that.

So, needless to say, I was pissed. When i woke up from the dream(nightmare), I was angry that something like that would be so easy to remember. I was perturbed that my ex just lallygagged her way into my sacred slumber and seduced me in my sleep. Maybe at the time of the dream the escapade seemed desirable, but it wasn't. Don't get me entirely wrong, it's not like I hate my ex or anything, I just hate what we were, which was we. I don't want to love her again, or at least in the near future. Even if the dream happened months, almost a year ago, I'm still pissed it happened simply because I have my own new love now, which means the world to me, who I love dearly, so its baffling as to why her predecessor can come around randomly in my head. Those memories just don't seem to fade.

But why? I want them to be gone...and they just won't leave like Uncle Raheem sleeping on your couch. I don't love her anymore, fact, but I still think on her for no apparent reason, fact. So It got me the thinking. People forget shit all the time, fact, so why can you not forget on command? Can forgetting be a skill, a process, an event by purposeful demand? I mean, you can train yourself to remember something, whether it be a song, a script, test questions, study materials, your grocery list, whatever, the number of things can go on and on. But how come you can't teach yourself to forget?

I mean, technically speaking I'm not too sure how that would even work. The more you thought about forgetting something, the more you would remind yourself exactly of the thing you want to leave behind. But the act of forgetting is something that happens to every human on earth, so the thought of it isn't some type of anomaly that only happens to a lucky few. So, if forgetting happens to everyone, fact, how come no one has honed down the process to an exercise?

Truth Be Sold

So riding around today proved to be quite the exhaustion. Waking up thinking about sex but being greeted to homework was not pleasant. Then getting ready to drive all over after a terrible night's rest wasn't as fun as sleeping in and thinking of playing my currently out of commission guitar. So, my current reality was less than desirable, but it made me ponder about other people's current stasis and their realities. Trying to escape the thought, I stopped listening to the overly existentialistic music in my car. Doing so, I flipped around on my Zune (yes, Microsoft ftw) and finally settled on Busta Rhymes E.L.E.




I haven't really listened to it since my childhood and quickly forgot how his woo hawing ass thought the world was going to implode on its self in 2000, the Y2K. Yeah, his predicting skills failed harder then Tiger Woods trying to park.

Regardless, It made me think more and more about the pending so called crisis and hysteria that is embodied in 2012. While I do believe that the world will probably end within my lifetime, I do not condone the thought of it ending in 2 years, and for various reasons. People have shown that they love to antagonize each other over long extended periods of time, (if not, BDSM wouldn't be entertained as boner material) so the world will come to a halt more than likely after a disturbingly long torture porn worthy session of war.

But that's just my thought process and how I view reality, so whose to say I'm right or wrong? Some people view it as a cataclysmic meteor fuck shower of hellfire and brimstone to crash into our Earth and smite us. And I don't buy it. So what is truth and what is false? I myself believe that Jesus Christ is my Lord and savior, but who am I to raise my hand to someone who believes in something else? I am not trying to get away from the Christian thought of Absolute Truth, but truth be sold, to perceive my reality as their reality is impossible. The actual thought of reality is a false concept, because reality for one is not reality for all, which reality is supposed to be to begin with. I think people go about knowledge and reality all wrong.

They think that they know things and force their beliefs and interests onto others, and the projection of their bullshit leads to conflict. The smartest man on the world is the one who I believe is capable to understand that in the end, he truly doesn't know everything. With this fact he can conquer anything, including his own reality and hopefully the monster that all humans can ultimately become. So once again, I state the world will end on man's terms and not on God's or whoever is up there, because maybe they wish to teach us the lesson of empathy and understanding, one that we probably will never learn. However, I might be wrong. Maybe then me and Bus A Bus will have something in common, no Bobby and Whitney.