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Monthly Archives: March 2012

March 25 12

the day has proceeded.. escaping with L– but there is no escape. I feel trapped by what I can not create myself. It is to feel. the difference , the alarm, that this is all just hanging on to a movement which many have lived but few tell of ,, what would someone want to know of poverty , i limitedly deal with, it is boring right , where can a story go from there. my middle class ness shows through as i am homeless but have a car,, i am poor but both my guitar are sell-able, my computer could be gone, my video camera, all just representations of some kind of hope, i dont seem to want to let move me.. i have learned nothing is moves the system off the coarse, so why me? i am directly representational.. i am poor , like ten percent unemployment, when you don’t count those who aren’t registered with unemployment offices that goes to 30percent. The system reports jobs into the system at the same time it says how many were lost, each balancing out to change nothing, or the system adds jobs but people who have stopped looking suddenly get some hope and start. for every person newly employed is another watching , you see the smiles change, the see the hope return to their eyes. until they realize they are doing the same as before ,for less pay, and just getting up is just keeping up.. then the smiles become the hard baring substance of getting by, while the American underclass becomes the third world-er,, except our garbage dumps are bigger, oh and we are not allowed to build shanty towns.. no structures are erected without permits.
the American third world is make up of people from here mostly ,, it is a land of who cares, and we have died in number for what ,, for this ,, for a land created to be control by the money before even health.. with reason for a blindness, instead of a cause. Is it cause you said there was no god,, and business was let to have no remorse cause once corporates structures where included among the people we found they were the same people who were tarred and feathering in the small town,, those who would leak oil just to manipulate global media. distaction destitution denial and demand. hehehe such the pregnant we and them, the buyer the seller, product and positivity. While to be negative is to understand ways of the evil in men’s minds. the push and stubbornness not to be one of them,, in Poe tonight i read of the vulgar class,, lol. where once money seperated themselves with good ness, with god,, with reason for being in the front light, just for birth,, they worked harder it is said.
makes me want to walk into a bank , and say i need one hundred thousand, to get three programers into a room , with the latest flash software, with streaming capacity, with musicians for community development, with computers. with a secondary school..after one year.
I will create a media corporation which organizes the Free schooling method of teaching. with an adoptable system . i will do it through videos, and streaming music, i will call it the enertialcall because i have been working on the marketing of the name for fifteen years. and with the right money involved i will be able to get the product up and running,
the product will be many products, a Literary art magazine with miss spelled words, and slanting opinions, with each dialogue unspoken in society, or spoke with only a hint of sincerity or ,, a whole heart-ed Agreement, media survives or fails on the philosophy projected , find the philosophy find the schora, the schora is what we are reaching for. we , being the enertialcall.. “ we unify in the mind “
Profitable entities,,
all “product” will invovles considerations of ad revenue-

l. Accumulated from a membership organization– 1000, dollars will be used to get the 501c3, first step is to become a nonprofit,, then, this organization will fund the Enertialcall media with talent, and social mediums, with donations, toward the mission.

the mission of the Enertialcall Society involves conversations around metaphysics, The whys of life. the achievement of a world philosophy through learning to have an awareness of change and personal growth, a non physical peace realized and understood by our connection to water, and Energy’s path ways. neutrons go through everything, Spirit is a collection of energy. Peace is easy through understanding energy.
the Mission of the art of the Enertialcall is teaching,,for which with every learning portray we save another’s life. (minding you that a lot of what we will do in the business will be organizing to create people controled businesses) the idea that you start with the Organization of people, In this case a non profit group with people organize to do what they like to do.. such that Money comes just after passion and detailed clarity..
like facebook or any SM except, then the Media organization , will pay after a contractual amount of hits, We will reach out where no one has gone before. by using a fiction approach,,
2. Enertialcall Media.. profitability is in Ad sales off the Magazine, and Gallery, Live performers streams, (Gallery will be an on line gallery where picture are given the whole screen and there will be rooms,, )
2a. Show sales,(booking clubs to have a traveling show called Enertialcall Release parties. We go to a town get a promoter in each town through the us, or enough promoters that we get free bands to play ,, for a six hour show, with the highest culture we can get on the road,, and sell magazines,
2b. the Office.. will be the place we do all the recording and prerecording, and for the being a live Jam space… with all the equipment on stage.. and a coffee house.. with two urns, and you have to bring your own cup. (we store them for you.) and take all donations. .. the performance space will have booked events on weekends. . if we have to. in the begining just the atmosphere of the working back business will attract, the office and space. will drive the front stations, we will get involved with people and try to find ways of them participating in the coffee house. in the back business, we will move them to become part of the enertialcall effort to create an employee own business. where you come in with nothing but all you have ever been, and we find a product that fits,, we create a product. be it a craft section, where you buy the crafts around the counter, we also sell cups .. like ones we find in thrift stores,, and put peoples names on them with marker or we design cups and sell them,, A kiln in the back , and clay available, a spin somewhere.

It is trust of you I write
the words lost and merry
for clarity is not me,
wanting never to be so concise,
i wanted to write contrite.
I would have /will quest
for the out of focus
self mirror if only to give
me something
to do.

is a feeling
character balance intellect.
what is in modern air
neutrinos and metaphysics
Rhyming with Quantum
so willing Physics
my eyes closed,
concentrate on
the work of the wood,
drawings by tree knots
bowing infinite image
A search for form
and structure
while breathing
in justice
is in Just-us.
and as i say things
I see more and
more exterior.
Placing conversations as an another
acting as i would if i remember
that I am trying to forget.
the baby bath water.
to remind myself
personal choice,
the dark once horse,
of surviver’s
without choice
suffering the riot
of a storm’s marching
Upon peacefull parades
Cells unity.
Against Broken mirrors and bad acts.
Rumors illusions ,
the best boys in town.
conclusion of belt welts whelps,
two by four attracts
stand and take
what you cannot
fight back from,
A soreness of Equality.

Like a tree to nature ,
solid,studied, stoic,
I want /have /will
Would have/
will dance with angels.
sharing telling being
like dew
spread, clear. reason
a touch
common and quake
no presence forsakes
among to one
and gone.
What I couldn’t love.
couldn’t know.
I will/ have/ would
dance with the angles
where pinnacle peace
gave reference,
romantic idealized intriguers
without mirrors
to innocents
to tell and leave.
Like so many
, like never needed
never here.
for all had
a moment
before now,
out-toxic conclusions
will titillated blindness,
dancing with angels
as i sleep

I wanted not a real change,
No, just a little more devoted.
would have been fine.
the ways
feel like falling up
a happy cliff, it feels ,
I feel.
Substantial for being.
not a crutch
or an arm chirst needed
no wrong choice
and it is loving
what you do.
by the endth degree
you will be closer.
a room is more than a room
to hid from the world around,
a place inside and exterior
once we give up crying doubt
“negative subconscious true”
reactions, the personal Pavlov.

I never have purpose
when i write.
It is life’s life, you give it .
I stumble,
investing ever path
ideas give and take.
I should be more dictative,
and only come to the floor
when i have something to say ,
but found hardly
ever a chance.

Importance cares not
forty six year old
lives in his car.
a younger man, once
lived what he sought
each part celebrates.
this one
an endless joy
of guilt free living.

tired placements
apartments and others.
great relief art.
I was, am, will be
afraid to admit it,
it is excepting yourself
that makes you ill
and accepting your self
that will save you.

by love of the cloth humanity
silences surrounding me,
frog listening, out there,
just beyond the waiting.

so the hours i am living are just the hours one lives. in my state in this state. the streets with the ambulances firetrucks. the homeless the housed, the crimes of negative faces, the scowls of the down. depressed , hateful , you can feel the energy, you don’t want to be involved you want to hid , and there is no place to go. this is my places left over from people outside of me. I dreamed of a job, funny dreaming i am at work. i was in a restaurant where i didn’t know where any thing is. last night i was in an apartment and dealing with live bats. sorted mess the head so infected by its rumors, and yet what wrongs i have done, i feel daily , though naming them only brings them back, the outstretching hand not seeing its bestial self. these reminders standing on street corners, the eyes of fate who are faith less. and me treading water among the deadly. I usually move invisible now never really seen never wanting to be known except for what i present, the music the writing, the hope. but i get caught up in the hatred, there was the Occupy there was a poker game, and these are not even the barbarian me of which i see in my regrets, no they were movements of right facing the disharmonious, facing ill reasoning drugs and drunks, but should the despondent write out their pains. should i tell of what eventually you have to face in the streets where time has taken your freedom of notice; a small town you can not get away from just stupid bad people,, people not even rich but in the same boat as yourself and yet the only freedom for them is to hate and blame. and you become the blamed cause of logical response to negativity and you blame only your self for not leaving. to living fear of your own reactions, I hate this one . there, for the smugness for which he cheated in cards. In which he treats his dog, in which he treated my friend all for the cause of his disallowed insanity; a rich boy gone bad gone poor, all ego and accomplishments.
I guess it is easier for me never having much never loosing much, Happy with my innocence as far as that goes. For i cheated and fought for every penny once not long ago. I did it with the purpose of children , or the purpose of money needing more for each hour than i was getting. It is long since i was there, Long since i worked seventy hours a week , for now i don’t work. I don’t survive, and where i would find heart is among the streets, taking my cds and guitar to bask in the sun and bring a smile hopefully to people i don’t know. something is wrong. as i want to much more. And always have been half the mark. never walking the acting enough, never feeling secure in relationships or jobs, even when i worked forty hours a week and had most Saturdays off. when i had a company truck and every day ran a crew which looked to me as a go between with the boss, my friend quietly, his last gift my car, but even he said not to be an artist, go to school for something you can get paid at,, my art in self understanding is useless to most. but even as we are saying this we are also saying there is no progression of humanism in a world of technological existence, this is the first time in my life i have just worked on me, without all the drugs and drunks of self representation. the first time i didn’t look for work daily , suffering the turn downs for the bad resumes, or just the stranger vibe which follows me. Suffering my own forms of unknown distinctions, small towns mistrusting, and well they should for i create where i can and justify later. I break rules when ever they don’t suit me, I am a rogue. Leave that here for future employers. some times i don’t think i will ever again work. except for myself. panning the streets after a song, the watery tears from pure thought repeated until you can only hear the tone as you sing. the essence which the poetry brings of its self without remorse with only caring for the conscious that hears. And all else doesn’t pay. and i want to forget how much i hate the fear based evil staring me down or looking away so as not to stare me down. for i am moved by my feelings. like when i consider the food supply and the gmo’s when i consider the election process and hear the Rush, hear the super Mario Pac’s, when i smell the oil in the ocean the melting ice caps , and then hear of further plans which will lead to further disasters in places where the money doesn’t go, or live. , , i guess i am just burnt and don’t see how even you get up and go to work, how you do anything more than read the evils.

the Maim Problem of people
has been an inability to join
in promise
and Yet only that proves civility.
a promise of whole life,
or fights for ethical rights
for all.

So few get paid
to rhythm the way
wise would or
few pay.

A fill of words
on streets where
love decides

i don’t know
what makes this so
I guess only.

A tender symbol
to human
Few choose an alarming violence
transient sighting a grab of bags,
and yet
come to fill .
Life more
than Hugo, Tolstoy
or steinbok could weigh
the innocent shine of
the gutters rhyme

I have always
had a problem
I hate to dance alone.
a cowardice , no
for dance i did and loved it,
a proof of being
a box of chocolates
in starvation,
but to be dumb,
your face so close
without meeting hand.
twisting spines
to line intend
to wills amended
adjusted temperance-d
taunt, releasing together
your difference given
willing conformity.
because you heard what i couldn’t
speck so yelled
and I do, yet, hate Loving my dance alone.
Loving rise tides gives wet eyes,
tooth size and crinkled skins
with a partner in wind
if only self, soul and sin.
If only energy electric
through waters aesthetic
and a poet’s price,
for a one of the amateur
and what is silent of .
is all.
a tone of exchange
a clamor of towns
and invention of self.
All, the street of orange , blackness filters cancerous
blind humanness, sufferance addiction’s self justification
in a seventy thousand samba
someone must write of the dance.
the pretty close or open
I really hate to love alone.

OH Poet
but what if
no one wants
to read it
knowing one knows.
Know one.