Ode to My Passport

Ode to My Passport

8-14 -15-13

OH not-so-golden-ticket to freedom
I don't know where I'd be without you
Actually that's not true
I know exactly where I'd be without you

but I don't know who I would be

Because of you I have discovered
more of who I am
And I found that definition
supersedes and transcends
home sweet home
overbearing barrier codes
or flagrantly self-serving flags

while still taking a little from each

Traveling has stretched my mind out
It uncoils my conditioning
Has shown me that we are all cocooned against our will
The more we are taught to ignore our wings

The less we navigate our bodies
away
from the comfort of the chrysalis

OH weathered flipbook of worldly administrative wonders
because of you I am a stamp collector
but I use them to mail myself around the globe
And though I've only been to 11 of the 196 countries
on 4 of the 7 continents
those fractions have made me whole
a more human being
I realized the lines inside my head that seemed
to be sensible borders
were cracks
causing crevices in my understanding
Keeping me from connecting
with the universal parts of us

OH magical object in my life
that isn’t really magical
since it’s just a little leathery booklet
that nobody can even read
The fuller you get the more fulfilled my life becomes
You are like my portrait of Dorian Gray
but you keep me young in the most beautiful way possible
by conjuring my spirit out its shell
to dance the flamenco with flamingos in Brazil

Okay
I haven’t done that but…
it sounds fun
Sounds like a good example right?
I could do that if I wanted to because I have a…
Never mind
lemme try again

OH future tracking device for the NSA
You keep me young in the most beautiful way possible
By conjuring my spirit out of its conical shell
To dance on beaches
Jump off bridges
Float with rivers
Cave open caves
Hike up glaciers
Chase down penguins
Fly off motorbikes
Sit on the ocean’s floor
Swim through a crowd of sweaty people
Pray for a “real toilet”
Succumb to pristine chapels and beehive malls
Climb ancient history to watch the latest sun set
Love a people or a culture I would have never known
Laugh with children I share no words with
Hang motionless by a rubber rope
in the middle of a canyon
like a spider from its web

That’s how many of us are now
Spiders dangling from a thread
looking up at this marvelous creation
going, “Huh, look at that.
That looks pretty cool.
Wonder where that came from.
Maybe I should go check it out.
Naaaaaaa.
I’ll just hang out here.
Gotta save some money anyway.”

 
All of you too averse to traverse our private speck of universe
for longer than it takes Venus to run around the Sun
I beg you to reconsider
Go sit with the beggars in Cambodia
Go meet the thieves in Rome
Go eat the strange food of supposed strangers
and taste their native tongues
Fill your pupils with all this colorful disco-ball
shimmers and shutters with
Our world is not what you think
It is incredibly what it is
And there’s no way you can
wrap your mind around that
until you have unwrapped
the scar spangled bandages
banded over your eyes

Once you do that
you will behold from such great heights
You will know nomads
and bond with vagabonds
wherever you may roam
You will finally understand
as you gaze into our existence
that this is our Never Never Land
But you should never say never

 








 





OH hallpass of safe passage through airy ports of absurd security
I want you to know
that I never get front row seats at concerts
but I always get a window seat when I fly
because every time I look outside
at the endless supply of beauty
known as planet Earth
I count my lucky stars
in the nebulas of citylight
in the clusters of cumulus cloud emitting iridescent white
To be here living is itself
an Ode to Joy
And I am thankful
that like the clouds
I am caught
in an invisible current
carrying me out
to see

All the pictures (except the first one) are my own and were taken in various parts of Thailand, my home for the past 7 years. God bless it! 

Sticks & Stones ~ The Untold Story

 Down below is a video of my latest performance, which was on Thursday at The Opposite, supporting Bangkok Poetry. 

 The poem is old but I've never performed it before. As I told the crowd, I wrote it in university for an assignment. I read it to the class as a part of the assignment, but this was before I was aware of or into performance poetry so I definitely didn't write it with this art form in mind. But once I got back into it these past two years, I started going back through my older stuff looking for pieces that might be somehow WORK as a live performance. This is one that caught my eye. I added it to my list a few months ago, and even recorded an audio file (as I do with anything I'm getting ready to perform) and occasionally listened to it in the playlist to start the long process of internalizing it. Because it's written in blank verse, these poems take time. But if you can start puttin little pieces in your head well in advance, that can make the crunch time (when you  know you NEED to have it ready) go a lot faster and easier. As it was with this poem. 

I've been thinking about performing it lately. It came to mind as a possible foil to the poem I did at Bed Supperclub about kids. Before I knew what Junior wanted me to do exactly (how much time/how many pieces) I was preparing myself for any possibility. So sticks and stones were on my mind. 

But that night only called for one poem, so I put it back on the back back burner. And then when I got word of the next poetry night--but only after someone nudged me when I said I wasn't sure if I would do it or not And I WOKE UP--then I finally thought about what poem I would do. I could've done the Montecristo kids poem, but...I've already done it twice now, and three times in a row.......kinda makes me turn my lip up. I have issues with repetition. Even THOUGH none of the people from the first two performances were probably even at that poetry night....it bugs me. Maybe it's cuz I think it's bad for the poem. To use it so flippantly. Like it only has so many uses in its life and I don't wanna use them all up too quick. Does that make sense to you? I really have no idea, but that's kinda how I see it. The more you use something, the more you see something, the more you are exposed to it, the more it loses its power, or its power over you. This isn't true for EVERYTHING, but a lot. I'm probably being overly cautious with this particular example, but...there is more to it than that as well.

 Anyway, so yeah, I didn't really feel like performing that poem again so soon. Which brought me to remember the poem down below. And as I soon as I thought about it, I was like, "Alright, cool. Let's do it. The time has come." And I started practicing it like a week in advance. Even changed a few words around and ADDED a whole section to it. There's a verse/paragraph that wasn't there before. I had the idea to add it months ago and it still appealed to me so I did. It's a pretty cool performance piece now. Very solid in content. And, the performance of it itself went down really well. They seemed to really like the piece. And...I messed up a little bit, but no biggie. When you mess up on a light poem, it's way more forgivable than when you mess up on a real serious or heavy poem. Speaking for myself. Even though I changed the pronouns to you for some reason. But yeah, it was cool. 

Check out the video, lemme know what you think. PEACE!

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Sticks & Stones:

The Untold Story

 

 9-24-2002

                                                        “If he only knew now
                                                                                       what he knew then”
                                                                                                            -Eddie Vedder

I remember a time
  when the word “play”
   wasn’t sexual
 and “fudge” 
was as close as I got 
     to the “F” word

  It just 
   felt 
  wrong

I remember a state of mind
  in which it was logically possible
  to jump out of tree
   while gripping the thin plastic handles
     of a white grocery bag
  and parachute 
             to the ground

  Only after the sudden landing thinking
    “I must not have been high enough”

I remember a place
   where my imagination
     was my imaginary friend
   and I spent the whole days
     outside trying to keep up
         with him
  as my real friends and I
 blew things up
     with rock grenades
 (sound effects included)
 and fearlessly
       shot ninjas out of trees
    with lethal guns made of
          sticks, toilet paper rolls
and electrical tape

  We were fighting for our lives

But I know now
we were fighting
for our childhood

I remember my friends.  They were brothers, Franky and Marcial.  They lived up the street, and I played with them almost everyday during the summers, yet the only memory I have of them being inside my house was for a birthday party.  The acre of land around my house was enough. That land was ours.  The trees, dirt, and dry, brittle bushes, were so rich and fertile, we planted our imagination in them everyday and grew battlegrounds budding with forts made from the trees’ discarded skin.  It was magical.  Sometimes when one of us had to go ask permission to go to the other’s house, which ever two stayed behind would close their eyes and chant, “I hope he can. I hope he can. I hope he can. I hope he can,” until the other came back with an answer.  And every time we did that…it worked.  It never failed us. The tighter we squeezed our eyes closed the better. “I hope he can. I hope he can. I hope he can. I hope he can.” That was how powerful we were.  That was our magic.

I even remember one time where we wanted to go up to their house so I had to ask permission but I didn’t wannu cuz my mom was in such a foul mood that day that I knew she’d say no and then just by being near her I might spontaneously end up in trouble. But they really wanted me to come over, so I was like “alright, I’ll go ask but don’t do it, don’t do I hope he can.” Cuz I knew it wasn’t gonna work and we were so amazed by this power’s existence that…I didn’t want to break it, and if there was anything more powerful than our collective hopes it was definitely my mother’s anger. And we really only used it in the most urgent situations, like…a new toy, and that day wasn’t anything special so I didn’t think it was worth it. So I was like don’t do it, and they said, okay, we won’t. So I went inside and asked my mom and was like Hey mommmm, do you think I could go up to Frankie’s for a little bit and she said…“Sure,” and I was like !!!!!  but I couldn’t do that so I was like 0_0, and kinda slowly backed out the door and as soon as I got outside I ran like crazy to Frankie and Marcial like OH MY GOSH, YOU GUYS, YOU WONT BELIEVE....and as soon as I got over the hill I see them sittin there…

“I hope he can I hope he can I hope he can I hope he can I hope he can…”

It worked every time

I remember when they moved.  I remember thinking how strange it was that families would just “move.”  It made me happy to know that my family would never do that.  I knew we weren’t like them.  We would always live in that house that we moved out of a year later.  I didn’t know.  I didn’t know I would never see Franky and Marcial ever again.  I didn’t know what we had, that we were magicians.  I didn’t know that power would weaken like the bite of guilt hidden behind each curse word, or what “innocence” even was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I'm not sure exactly when this was, but it is the house that is in this poem. I took this pic the last time I visited that town in...late 2004/early 2005, somewhere around there.  When we lived there (15 years earlier) it looked so different. Grass in the yards with climbing rose bushes and various other flowers and small trees. Quite beautiful. But at least you get to see somethin of what I'm talking about. I still love that house. Still wish I could teleport it, just like I did when I was a kid.

The Blessed World of Breasts

A poem written for a charity event, raising funds for breast cancer. The story behind it is HERE. As I said at the event, please don't let the silliness of my poem detract from the seriousness of the issue.

It's meant to be read with quite a bit of sincerity (to make it all the more cheesy), and a beautiful (busty) woman at hand. For me to make suggestive hand motions towards of course, and maybe rest my head upon. ;-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Blessed World of Breasts

3-12-12

Oh how we do so love our breasts
those objects of pleasure to which we’re obsessed
or the softest of places on which we rest
our heads when they are full of stress
and relieve us from all of this unrest
like we’ve been placed inside a nest
and there’s no reason in the world to be depressed
because...how bad could the world be….
if we have breasts
 
I still remember the success of my first quest
to find my own sucken treasure chest
and the joy it brought I could not suppress
since the coming of which was....so quickly expressed
But it is not the joy of tatas I’ve come to undress, I mean Address!
Address...It is not the joy of tatas I've come to address
It is on these mounds of love I’d love to attest
and I hope to speak on their behest
while holding on firmly....to their interests
 
Although it may seem I speak in jest
I actually stand in earnestness
and hope with my words to impress
the dangers of some cancerous pests
that threaten to deflate those lovely life vests
with a mess of pain and much distress
towards which we should all share detest
and unite in the name of....breast cancer awareness
 
So don’t be afraid to suggest or request
to your family, bosom buddy or a love-interest
to take the proper steps to stay abreast
of whatever’s going on inside their chest
because ladies it doesn’t matter if you’re blessed
with a little more...or a little less
what matters is if your breasts can pass the test
of a breast exam and a good doctor’s caress
because it's healthy breasts....that are the best
 
And at last we should give thanks to every guest
who came here tonight from east and west
and have done far more than you could guess
even found the time & money to invest
in putting....BREAST CANCER to rest
an independent media team shot a little news report on the event, they included part of my performance (1:19), pretty cool stuff all around though.

I ♥ BOOBIES!!

So last night was PRIT-TY cool (no longer last night). Actually, that's an understatement. It was HELLA FREAKING COOL! And the things that I'm doing with my life and making happen blow my mind. :)

Last night was a fundraising event for fighting breast cancer, organized and executed by a beautiful and vivacious friend of mine named Wim. I met Wim thru facebook last year and took a liking to her immediately after reading her blog which had me laughing one quip after another. I sent her some of my stuff, she liked it, we bonded, met for lunch, it was cute, moving on.

(what a team!)

A few months back she organized another charity event (her first) and sweetly asked me to write something for it. The idea definitely piqued my interest. And I'm at a point in this whole "Ima poet" thing where I'm ready to start accepting new challenges, such as "Hey you! Write me something about this. Make it snappy."

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh, okay."

This is something I've never really welcomed before, "taking requests," creating something ON Demand, with will power instead of pure inspiration....providing an actual service beyond rifling thru my catalog of old poems and finding one to slap on the situation like a bumper sticker! It hasn't been until this point in my life that I feel THAT "in control" of my art that I could do something like that. Oftentimes writing a poem is like trying to call a cat to you. Sometimes it just looks at you and goes, "Ehhhhhhhh, I'm gonna go over here." To which you respond, "FUCK YOU POEM!" And that usually goes on for about an hour without much success.

"GET--ON--THE PAGE!"

But she asked and I said I would try and (Thank God she gave me like two months notice) sure enough, a week before the event, a poem jumped outta me. The topic at hand was Strong Women (bulging biceps optional) and I ended up writing one of the craziest (and longest) poems in my collection, on a topic I never dreamed of writing a poem about: Women in Ancient history. ??? WTF? Lol. Why not?!

(spoutin off at the mouth to a crowd of people about ancient history...you know, like ya do!)

Long story short tho, it turned out well. And it was a REALLY cool experience. I never shared it with you on here, or anywhere outside of that event but it went well! (I'm really skeptical about how well it works on the page, it's really meant to be spoken, so I never put it on the blog, but I am trying to think of a way to put it to video for ya) And then THIS event came along.

When she first got behind the cause, I was like cool. I pitched in my support. I dig her energy and think she can really do somethin with it. When she announced the event, she jokingly said to me "Breast Poem, KJ? lol" (or something like that) and even as busy as I was, the idea didn't sound too bad to me. But I just took it as a joke, and put it on the shelf for later. But as soon as I really thought about it (a couple weeks ago) I knew immediately it would be a FUN poem to write. I could hear it already just like that. And I don't get too many opportunities (cuz I just don't ever push myself to) to write fun poems, so I was like "Woohoo, BOOBIES, I gotta give this a try!"

Weeks go by, life goes by, busyness becomes a mainstay cuz it's the end of the school year annnnnnd that leaves me NO time to do shit for ME. I.e. WRITE, i.e. ponder, i.e. Make Cool Shit! Til the night before the event! I figured it was too late, but I also figured there was hope.
It was my last day of classes, so I was finally off the hook for grading (for a couple days) and I could FINALLY take some time to myself. In the back of my mind I was like "Hey, maybe I'll sit down and give that poem a try tonight." (it's so weird but cool, the thought of scheduling a poem!) But then I even forgot about it and tried to make dinner plans with Prang. Thankfully she was busy. And as the sun sat, I remembered--"Oh yeah! Me, writer, poem"--Kinda halfheartedly tho cuz I was feelin lazy, but then I remembered how cool it would be to do a poem in Bed Supper and so I got back on the computer and started punchin away at it. And it came along, just like that. Three hours later I was messagin Wim like Paul Revere! "The Boobies are coming, the boobies are coming!" Or something like that. And it was done.

I really didn't wanna force my way into the night or anything like that, I felt pretty self-conscious, I had no idea how much they'd planned or put into it, and I certainly didn't wanna upset the apple cart over my last minute bullshit. If it's not broke, DONT FIX IT, ya know? But I thought if she really liked it, then it would be up to her what to do with it since I wrote it for her/her event anyway. It is JUST a poem, if it can make the night better, cool, if not, no problem. Totally up to her....and she made it happen! TWAS SO COOL! The whole event, so awesome to be a part of it, and it seemed like people really liked my addition so it made a difference! WOO-Freakin-HOO!
I got lots of nice responses to it afterwards. An older man came up and wanted me to email it to him so he could send it on to a friend of his who's surviving breast cancer. Thought she would really like it. That makes me smile REAL big! To think that there will be people somewhere in the world who are fighting this fight and might get a kick outta some words I barely had a chance to put together. How cool is that!? Really nice.

thought it might help drive the poem home if I had a beautiful (busty) woman there as an example :)
thanks Nan!

Anyway, that's the story pretty much. I'm happy to contribute. It would be ingenuine to suggest I'm personally involved in this cause, I'm not. While other cancers have, breast cancer specifically has never touched my life. But I care about all that I can, including what my friends care about and I like to help! Especially in the form of POETRY! I'm thrilled to show people what poetry can do and how fun it can be. The reception I got there was far better than anything I would've EVER expected. They liked it, they really liked it. I'm still cheesin out when I think about it. :-D

Thank you Life, thank you cool peoples who were all up and involved in this event and Bed Supper Club for hosting it. Wim/that event raised over 2 thousand dollars in a couple hours. Cash. (I helped count!) Pretty frickin cool. And it all goes to Thai women receiving treatment that they can't or can barely afford. And needless to say, that money goes a lot farther here than it would back home. Chh-ching.

Here's the poem. Wim posted part of it on her blog already and gave it a title, somethin I hadn't even considered at that point, so I think I'll borrow some inspiration from her title and go with "The Blessed World of Breasts." That's got a nice ring to it. Though, in my own head, I think it'll always be secretly titled, "I HEART BOOBIES!!" ;-)

The Time is Nigh -- 99%

all i wanna do is write
i don’t even wanna read
all i wanna do is fight
for the light i think we need
to find to set things right
unblind us to the greed
remind us that we’re right
to decide for whom we bleed
to demand instead of plead
for a land devoid of plight
at the hands of those who lead
to stand up and unite
and bite those hands that feed
a bogus line of sight
they’d have us to believe
is fine and pure as white
despite the dark it breeds

there’s not a day or night
nor a breath i breathe
that doesn’t reek of fright
for all the pain i see
that’s been there all my life
ignored by so many
that’ve learned to walk upright
with no integrity

but now the time is right
to unwind the lies they weave
uproot the vines of spite
and finally plant new seeds
show our own forthright
and fight until we’re freed
i’m tired of being polite
about these shameful deeds
that reach a higher height
as we walk on our knees

i wanna beat all the might
that we might meet
with our insights that incite us
to pack these streets
til they’re tight with the knowledge
of what we can be
til we ignite the revolution
that sets our minds free

Sincerely, The 1%

I wrote this a couple months back, and I wanted to post it right away, but I also wanted to write a straight piece of literature, no performance elements, and I failed. I couldn't keep em out. And once it all fell outta me onto the page (like THAT), I didn't wanna compromise or ruin the performance for anybody by posting it beforehand. So I didn't.

Well last night the chance finally came to perform it. And even though when I initially wrote it, I thought it was cool and could be great, by the time the time came to present the piece, I wasn't so sure. For a performance piece it is REALLY long, and if the satire fell flat on the audience then that would suck! Luckily, last night, that was not the case. It was honestly one of the best experiences I've had performing TO DATE! It was received far better than I expected. They laughed. They LAUGHED! I couldn't have been happier. So now I'll post it, lol. I'm not saying I'll never perform it again any time soon, I may very well, so you're welcome to hold off for that day and not read it so you get the full effect, but that is up to you now. Lemme know what you think. Cheers. :)

_________________________________________________________________

Dear masses, do not express your massive discontent. Especially if you don’t have a plan for how to make you happy. Just because we’ve spent the last hundred years creating a system that is so convoluted, lopsided, and engrained into everyday life that you couldn’t possibly extract it without hemorrhaging the livelihood of our civilization, doesn’t mean you get to protest without knowing how to fix it. That would be silly. It’s like you think we’re suddenly gonna “get it” and pull the plug on ourselves. Please, be realistic.

We are self-servers. You are the servers. We do everything to serve ourselves and you serve pretty much whoever we tell you to. That’s how it’s always been. We know there was a dream in there somewhere of equality and ending poverty, along with some democracy (whatever that word means to you) but…c’mon, we don’t really care. And thanks to us, you don’t really care either. Until now. Now you finally put 2 and 2 and 2 and 2 and 2 and 2 and 2 and 2 and 2 and 2 and 2 and 2 and 2 and 2 together, and finally figured out that there’s….an awful lot of you who are suffering thru a life that many of us don’t struggle with at all.

Not that we have it so easy, we have our problems too, some of us even have gay children, but yes, for you it may be a tad less enjoyable than for us. And we’ve always sympathized in our own…detached way. We have. And we’ve tried to help in our own….infinitesimal way. But you do understand that IF we helped too much, it would hurt you! It would rob you of the enormous satisfaction of making it on your own two feet, the same satisfaction that our great great great grandfathers experienced, which was really not entirely because of all the slaves and…weapons they had.

Plus, if we helped you too much, that would not be serving ourselves. Which is kind of like…our thing, to put it in words you might understand. You don’t want us to change do you? If we weren’t so rich and powerful, then what would you have to work towards your entire lives? So what if for 50 percent of you it ends in failure or mild disappointment, you didn’t know that, we knew but you didn’t know that, and that makes all the difference! It gave you a reason to wake up in morning. Thanks to us! Besides, so what if at the end of your life, you’re not everything you wanted to be and you have nothing to leave your children? “Quiet desperation” isn’t so bad. Since it’s quiet!

Just be happy you’re alive! Not that you shouldn’t be alive, that’s not a threat or anything, why would we threaten you, we need you! To keep buying things. So be happy, you’re alive! And show your happiness by supporting your fellow man. We’ve even had some stickers and t-shirts made to do our part in helping different industries, like this design we made for the farming industry (See below). Sales are lower than ever before, and we are here to show our support. All the proceeds from these shirts will go straight to the farmers. Or the milkers…whoever’s responsible for milk. And ALL the wonderful dairy products we are fortunate to have.

You see, this isn’t so bad. Workin together towards a common cause. In no time, things will be back to normal and you’ll forget all about our ridiculously rich asses. I mean, assets. You’ll forget all about those. And trust me, that is better for all of us. Cuz we are not like you people. Sac…..sac…..sacrifice is kind of a dirty word in our world. I don’t even know if I’ve ever said it. Outside of the context of pensions and personnel that is, but you guys are really good at it. You make sacrifices ALL THE TIME. We have no idea how you do it!

To be honest, we kind of look up to you for it even as we’re looking down on you. There are some days when we wish we could be like you. I mean they’re rare, like once in a blue moon rare, but they do happen. And on those days we admire you and wish we could do what you do, but we can’t. We’re just too rich and spoiled, like a New York cheesecake, that’s been sitting out on a table for over an hour. Ugh, what a waste, what a burden on our……consciences. Is that the word? Yeah, those things get really troubled sometimes and we question whether it’s necessary to spend thousands of dollars getting our pets groomed every month when some of you can’t even feed your kids. Ugh, terrible. It’s just not fair. But, such is life.

And like I said, we’re not gonna change. We’d change if we could or if we had a good reason to, but…we really don’t. I mean, to get us to care you would probably have to protest all the time, and picket and boycott and be organized and have walk outs and sit ins and strikes and meetings and marches and rallies and demonstrations and unity and more protests, until we took you seriously, until we saw what you see everyday and could no longer ignore the GROSS inequality that exists in our everyday lives! But most of you seem far too complacent to do that so…I don’t even know why we’re talking about this. I’m sure this will pass soon. You guys used to get angry and active and make a fuss all the time not too long ago, but once we gave you equal rights, you seemed quite happy to suffer through the hardships of your lives without much of a peep, and accepted that your failures were your own, instead of noticing that the insurance, economic, political, and education systems are kind of working against you, which certainly works for us.

Oh masses, we hope you understand where we’re coming from. And we do wish you the best of luck, since…there’s not much else you could hope for. Once you calm down, and accept once again that this is as good as it’s going to get, Please remember, that there is more to your lives than struggle and debt. There’s……sunshine, and weather and blankets. Even homeless people have those. Occasionally there’s even a nice park that is safe to walk through, but….just don’t spend too much time there. Live your lives as freely as you’re allowed to, and don’t forget that every dollar you spend, goes to somebody who really really wants it.

Take care of yourselves. So we don’t have to. Haha ;-)

Sincerely,

The 1%







p.s. Newt Gingrich says hi.

Occupy Their Minds

Welcome to the world of walls and streets,
where violence police come to silence drum beats
with all the support of politicians in charge
of a corrupt fat cow they milk, by and large.
And their central advice: “Buy MORE and enlarge,
whatever you have, never mind the surcharge!
Because bigger is better and more is never enough.
You should believe what we say, but please, don’t call our bluff.
We hate to disappoint and we’d hate to use force,
but rest assured we will keep this sinking ship on course.
We have no other ideas but to propagate this way
and if you don’t like it, it’s fine, but don’t voice your dismay
or if you do, then at least keep it out of downtown.
If you want we can show you how to Keep Your Voice DOWN.”

Welcome to the world where those in power
will do anything to postpone their final hour,
even betray the interests they’ve sworn to uphold.
They’re not interested in much that can’t be bought and sold.
Being bought and paid for is a time honored tradition,
anyone who says otherwise may get a taste of extradition.
Even peaceful people collecting thoughts in public parks
will be drug out of their tents and beaten in the dark
by the very people they trust to protect
their rights, their lives, but what do they expect
when those rights can be amended by the right blank check,
it’s just a matter of time before everything’s a wreck
and our government in NO WAY reflects our intellect!

Welcome to the world where disparity is inevitable
and kids can grow up thinking pizza’s a kind of vegetable.
You can’t hide from all the shames, like how Wikipedia
is clearly more trustworthy than our “independent” media.
Not much is more important than the sacred status quo
for all of those who made it and are rolling out the dough.
“You deserve all you can get,” they say, “especially if ya got it rough.
And if you get way less than most, well then that’s….just….tough.”
But the time has finally come when we are starting to question
why so many can make millions during a global recession.
While millions of homes were boarded up and shuttered
the upper crust enjoyed bonuses, paid with YOUR bread and butter!

Now that you know the truth, now you know this must change.
More than the USUAL reshuffle and rearrange.
We cannot have a government less interested in our votes
than it is in personal gain, control and stock quotes.
Occupy their minds. Make em jump at each new start.
Feel free to raise your voice, and keep a riot in your heart.
Walk the fine line between rebellion and release.
Remember they want complacency, but they’ll often call it peace.
Remember that the cops are but little black pawns.
The real enemy must be fought with our brains, not brawns.
Take care of each other, you have more than fists and feet,
and they’re scared enough already of our strange drum beat.
We just have to keep it steady, stand armed with common tools
and we’ll remind them that it IS the majority that rules!

My 2 Cents for the 99%

(video's at the bottom)

11-15-11

Money makes the world go round….is a thought I abhor
True as it may be on a dozen different shores
From Jean Paul Gaultier to all the dollar stores
for a lot of us it seems money's got us on all fours
We bark when it says speak and let it tug our popped collars
lug thru every week while being drug thru debt galore
fillin out our lives like a fuckin order form
And this I'm sad to say's becoming more n more the norm
we can barely tell the difference between perfume…and chloroform
as we put our passions deep to sleep to be cool instead of warm
Is there any reason to think that there will ever be reform
as our imaginations shrink along with the depth of our own core
it’s like the soul’s the missing link as we are further than before
from the center, towards the brink of an endless civil war
One country fails, One country succeeds, and the prosperous ignore
the luscious garden’s full of weeds but there’s nothing to deplore
“as long as there’s a clean place for my feet and the poor don’t look…
too poor, then there’s not much else I need up on the 42nd floor”
Not that you should be ashamed of being successful…or a whore
it just doesn’t seem humane to suck the life out of every pore
of every person in every country for the profits that you HOARD

So you wanna know what I think of money
and the rich vs the poor
yeah you Got NO I-DEA What the fuck I got in store!

Whenever I look at the system I think there must be a glitch
most the world lives in a prison that was built by the rich
and the poor live with this mission as they stretch every stitch
to get on that golden bridge instead of livin in this ditch
but da whole world’s like a game that is fulla bait and switch
and I don’t know the system’s name but it really is a bitch
fulla pretty rocks that glisten and pleasures that make you itch
fulla ears that never listen and eyes that look bewitched
or bewildered by the isms that make everybody twitch
Capitalism….commercialism….consumerism, which
are the trains on which
everybody’s lives are hitched
You might think it idealism
you might even call it kitsch
but I do not see the wisdom
in so many superrich
Faces buried in the bosoms
that ‘re inflated by a switch
… throwin out buffets
while people starve for a sandwich
half a world away
or in your city’s every niche
people sittin in soup kitchens
eatin up the CARTILAGE!

So ya wanna know what I thinka money
…and the poor vs the rich
yeah I’d drop another fuckin HOUSE on that GREEN
WICKED WITCH!

~~ da video version!~~