Sunday, December 28, 2008

City Streets


Big city streets are never safe,
Don't trust the people with the suit and case,
Evil will bring you further under the ground.

Watch yourself you may find,
strangers and dangers out caste past time,
we lost our watches while we lived from forest.

All people are held in captivity,
Powerful tyrants fuel hypocrisy,
Go free yourself for freedom itself.
I left on the bus this morning. No I actually walked to the grocery store to buy some food in the early morning. An unfamiliar feeling was haunting me. It was positive.

I listened to music. Music that most would not care to listen too that early in the morning but it was one of those special mornings. The mornings when I wake up to the adventure of my own solitude. Walking to town on an overcast day, no shoes, no heat, just pursing a partial destiny and not even knowing what to focus my attention on. So I gazed.

The streets were baron as all shops were closed. So I waited.

After the shops I was sitting on the bench waiting for the late bus. It was an enjoyable moment with cigarette in hand, Nietzsche in hand, ipod in ear, but appreciation was dissolved by distraction.

A dark man, some would call spooky, simply touched my umbrella in my backpack as it precariously lay on the bench and side walk. I looked at the man, smiled, and replied to his action with a soft "hi". He was somewhat startled as I disrupted his world.

"Your not from here are you a foreigner?" he asked, due to the lack of my Australian accent. I replied, "I am Australian" and his reaction was expressed oddly. He rebutted, "Right, Well I am the real Australian. 1st generation bratha!" "I am aware of that" I said while smiling back to him. We introduced ourselves before he told me to stand up to give him a hug. It was the best hug I have ever experienced. Time was irrelevant. It was pure. He said, "Bratha I wish you and your family all the best." Shortly after we disembraced his friend brought him a pack of Victoria Bitter to drink away his sorrow. He is a lover. Am I a creator?

I look inside the pages of my book to see whatever it is that I am meant to see. One people have conqured another people and the pain is accute in some and not in others. Simpathy from society is merely a social reaction from their oppression.

Nietzsche writes On The Way Of The Creator,

"Alas, there is so much lusting for the heights! There are so many convulsions of the ambitious. Show me that you are not one of the lustful and ambitious.
Alas, there are so many great thoughts which do no more than a bellows: they puff up and make emptier.
You call yourself free? Your dormant thought I want to hear, and not that you have escaped from a yoke. Are you one of those who had the right to escape from a yoke? There are some who threw away their last value when then threw away their servitude. Free from what? As if that mattered the Zarathustra! But your eyes should tell me brightly: free for what?"

That text resonated through my experience with the real Australian.

I cought the bus home an rethought about colonial oppression, the lover and the creator.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Violent repercussions they demand our full attention,
We're falling off the side of the high horse again,
Just pushing hard forever while I try to boarder,
What I really stand for in this apologetic life,

Fear from nothing but your mind and fear together,
Creative fireballs extract the con from the conman,
As we sail through this uncertain realm of uncertainty,
We forget that society has tried to make words and a reality,
for us,

Words are strong on paper your ideas are lucid with flavor,
It is hard to exist without an African drum so when will you buy one,
Moderately thinking your dieing to kill a king

We will all run away from the mess that has been made,
Should we stay to fight their short sight or is it over ,

Wednesday, October 15, 2008


I am as fluid as water,
I fill all cracks
even the deepest,

Water worries without reason,
I get caught in the waste,
be calm water will rejuvenate,

I blind my vision for a moment,
and feel what it would be like,
All the horrors disappear,

I picture myself living my life,
without visual perception,
all is black and all is nothing,

The apocalypse comes,
to rescue me,
but its beauty I can not see,

So for a moment,
I open my eyes,
I see reflection of a burning flame,

The human world did stop,
but I didn't notice,
all the reaction I preconceived?

Nothing changed,
change does not exist,
our Earth grows as we pass,

Passion is with me,
follow it,
and live through it,

I can't go wrong,
all of this is my song,
my life am the one.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008


I need to escape from my head but it is not that easy. No wonder why I'm confused. My head is a complex electrical circuit and the pathways are deteriorating from so much usage. Not from over thinking but strenuous thought all the time.

When I open my eyes my head hurts, I pause for a moment to try and think less or from my heart but the feelings do not last as this time is merely an alternation. In that moment of feeling, which is now, the leaves drop around my communicator and the gray ski blows a steady breeze past my bench.

I think to better myself. I came to Australia to better my self and direction. Indeed I have done that with support academically and socially. But there is a gaping hole in my self. I'm am learning, breathing, growing, and now I am left with complete dissatisfaction. My heart is not with me. When it is, it is only there for a moment and I can not live through it. To tell you the truth I am very afraid to stop using logic in the prediction that I will stop growing. But the contradiction is there and I am aware, but it is the fear that stops me.

I sense my father within me when I am in Australia. When we see each other our twisted logic collides into some sort of murky energy. This energy is not influential as it does pass.

Not like a friend who I will have to the end, has shown me his way, one which is truly influential. But it is his way. I will have my own, and I will continue to grow even when my material is compressed into stone.

There is a skill to be comfortable in yourself whereby you can treat yourself with the up most respect and love.

An individual I must continue to be. A balance of love and logic.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Looking At Smoke spilling contradicting thoughts

Is it always right to waste for the pleasure of our own eyes?

Fireworks for the sake of expressing whatever. Freedom? I was thinking it would be funny to make a study about the human reaction to fireworks? Imagine if the study concluded that it decreased the human tendency for aggression and war-like feelings? Or I guess as Ahmed told me, 'a reason for people to drink'. 'I don't know man', I replied.

It is unquestionable that the 'dumbing' down of society exists and alcohol and fireworks are a perfect combination, with of course, the preamble by the media concluding that 'tonight will be a special night and I hope to see you there.' Really I doubt that there is an easier way to keep people in line. Booze and fireworks.

As I sat there I hoped I wasn't the only one thinking about the carbon emmissions from the result of a fireworks show of any magnitude.

But for some reason I am still dazzeled by a $7.4 billion F-14 scream accross the sky unloading its fuel for the sake of celebration.

Friday, August 22, 2008

Western Sky

Picturesk sky tells no lies,
the sun sets from east to west,
the light has come it will again,
the time is now for referendum,

A better place is of baron land,
So much space but we can not erase,
this established race white faced,
will learn the land not dominate it,

Towers of technology,
so high tall and unnatural,
buildings blocks are mobilized,
I will build a house from a tree,

Seriously here we are,
no escaping only traveling,
I am happy that this is true,
I will live my life with an I,

So now I strive to tell no lie,
a positive step in space and time,
Give freedom to me and the others,
Empower the mothers and brothers,

Change is no natural like life,
thus the only thing we know is right,
grasp your inner beauty to find,
that your mind and heart is not apart
it is concealed in your bodily art

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Over Analysing

She sits there by the Forgan Smith,
Her eyes are sharp and they will wip,
my perception is art deep and close,
I feel that my body is a floating ghost.

Over analysis is used to make sense of life,
I can't accept your reaction as right,
Quarreling birds above me are fueled with life,
Their energy smells like cheap cough medicine.

Pretentious pricks are pink like pansies,
A flip of the hair that you wear on your head,
A turkey pecks at human waste abused and dead,
Are those umbrellas pink or purple?

Communication has become useless and wasteful,
carbon is expelled from your blood cells,
Social circles always a circle unbroken and strong,
I can see truth that you will become a killer.

Do I need life is my connectivity strong,
Was I born to be this hobo bum,
I'm fucking insane with relational insanity,
I don't need drugs to get outside reality.

I feel so far out through over-analysis,
I am now a threat to progressive pretending,
This perception is back its back again,
The energex is fighting us away,

Lock me up I will not live another day...

Saturday, August 16, 2008


I can hear the voices,
their in my head and in your bed,
sleeping through visioned nights,
no lucid dream in unsettled light,

I'm a boy in cartoon figure,
free to travel unbound by time,
any rate slower or faster,
will kill me before my destiny,

So I climb I climb,
my thin tree of life,
one purpose so absolute,
I fall without a parachute,

Delayed shadows dilute perception,
my heart and mind has battled and broken,
past events come to the surface,
my soul seeks expression and purpose,

I can't ignore I must embrace,
my-self this path and your face,
A present moment of clarity,
this life is a calamity

*This text are the lyrics for one of my new songs.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Positivity in Social Energy

Universal energy vibrant,
waiting to be perceived,
by young thinkers,
whom attract this energy.

Thinkers before us,
examine life's tenancies,
looking for explanations,
is the balance found in positivity?

Nature as observed ,
holds the key laws and reactions,
imagine a utopia a phenomenon,
the secret: a balanced and harmonious life.

Natural is important,
positive harmony,
energy is all around,
learn from negative and positive.

Matter strikes a balance,
the balance of existence,
we exist as once scattered life,
chemical consciousness: Electricity

So there is an aspect,
one which is social,
take the negative take the positive,
all is one and one is all.

Will humans practice harmony,
or will our atoms,
find a place in the land, air and sea,
We must rethink positivity.

When melancholic,
don't think that your ill,
or cover it up,
with a 'happy pill'.

Practice compassion,
peace and will,
life is a mountain,
don't think its a hill.

A glowing amygdala,
will enhance your senses,
to make human action,
less damaging and relentless.


Empty heart,
empty smile,
will the heat,
rise and rise.

I have never touched emptiness,
I have not laughed in a while,
when I see you smile,
I feel no love.

Your wrapped around me,
just clinging on,
It's like I'm scared,
this time I can't run.

As I stare beyond us,
I feel alone,
your not there,
we are not a pair.

Sex is something,
that I want,
but I am afraid again,
your not the one.

One is one,
two is two,
you say to me,
that it is not you.

Well if its not me,
then it must be you,
and if its not you,
then it must be me.

Will I stop or,
keep it going,
even while,
no love is showing.

I tell you,
I do no love you,
I assume you,
feel the same,

I remain,
to play the game,
what will it take to stop,
I thank the clock.

Another Sleepless Night

I have become pushed too far. Reaching out to no one with love and compassion, things become a blur. Distant light can not be seen as I am alone. Something is most defiantly missing.

Is it love,
is it you?

Looking out beyond the heavens waiting for the world to change. Something is not right.

How can so little be achieved through the lack of progress?

How can my mind and minds alike be drawn to such a profession? We are artists and free spirits, forced to cooperate, encouraged to act fake, rewarded to comply in the name of progress.

I am questing a construct that I have found comfort in. I'm afraid of myself. Failure. I guess I can never fail if I never begin, and if I never begin then I ultimately fail.

Is that all I am, afraid? Yes?

Fear numbed me and played tricks with my head. Fear, an illusion in life, which can destroy those it wishes to destroy through the pressure of subhuman systems. Fear will shut you down, blind you, create anger, and depress your spirit. When we are not afraid we will face the challenges of life not use them to destroy, suppress and exploit others.

I can no longer concede to fear, as fear is such a simple reaction to life. Those who instill fear into the lives of others will soon become afraid themselves, as we are coming, and we will not fight fear with fear, but make the world our own.

Power to the fearless...

Monday, August 11, 2008

I want to be a millionaires son,
but I can not find the blue light,
I see an opening from from within,
the broken light becomes dim,
you drift you drift away,
how much can your heart take
how much can your heart take

Won't you tell me one more time,
Won't you tell me that I crossed the line,
You know I told you that I fell from grace,
Your ashamed to see the smile on my face

It seems that overtime we have lost our mind,
pull and push away watch the scares break,
unnatural ways unnatural days,
seem to haunt this place,
the real and ideal sphere

Is it not one that you can find here,
stop searching for the future it not near,
time only weakens the concepts in mind,
we are blind to order find disorder,
find peace of mind,
find peace of mind
find a piece of your mind
find pieces of minds

Step back to see the promotion of lies,
no untruthful man will escape loves alibi,
Power to few heads try the heads of many,
No technique can save us from ourselves,

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Out with a bang

cigarette smoke in and out,
of this body I call my house,
the last one I will take outside,
the last won will smoke me out,

These feelings are controlled,
By whom I call them my own,
Dreaming almost schizophrenically,
Past present future align,

Remix of this short life lived,
games turn you into a logician,
searching for perfect harmony,
melody brings you down to ground,

Thoughts feeding back like cracks,
Silence has won me over,
A distant voice asks questions,
He is my friend