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Sunday, March 22, 2009

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IMAGINE...

The furrowed brow be almost perfections to me
Her thoughts focused aphrodisiac potent more than poisons ingested
She is elegance among the elocutions, sensual sexy shown through concentrations
On this or any task set before that beautiful mind
Numbers ensnare her visage but do not lessen
That part that contributes to the complete set
Of all things that make me desire the skin
And the mind and spirit bound to them
(whispering)
You look so beautiful right now



(A cell phone buzzes, an a text message appears, taking her away from the mundane studies and making her...smile.)

Girl- My escape...such a beloved whisper.



My Escape (Beloved Whisper)

Intro
Take away tired days, sunset in simply said things
Idle minds refrain to seek flight amid wings
Silently pensive in a ponder of elsewhere land
Where a heaven behind sight counts forever in the sands
Off to distance too distant to measure or tape
Away and yonder is the pure greatest, my escape

Verse One
Random among tedious
Gallop about the moment
One thought stays constant
Perfect, dangerous
To linger on you
Dancing wild, adrift in smiles
An amazing thrill
My moment, my escape

Chorus
My moment, child of a dream
My getaway, beloved whisper
My moment, child of a fantasy
My escape, beloved whisper

Repeat once

Verse Two
Lost now in living boredom
Staring off into distant
Thinking it again
Fantasy, kingdom
All within you
Living amid this heaven
Heavenly dreaming
A second for escape

Chorus 2xs

Verse Three
Once upon a thought of you
Burning bright in a mundane place
Consuming the real
Transcending this, true
Beautiful ever
Waiting when eyes close tight
There in a daydream
My moment, my escape

Chorus 2xs

Intro

Chorus 2xs

What would it mean to you to...ESCAPE ?


"You act just like your daddy..."
"That reminds me of something your momma did when she grew up..."



Most people take these words and smile...but not all do that. There are times when we want nothing more to escape from what people have said about our family memebers gone and tread out own path...

...sometimes that path is one leading to fame and fortune...

...other times it leads to INFAMY.


Desires Of Infamy (Intro)
(Sprawled out among the flashing lights he was, caught up in the electric thrill of another year of life...everything seems sharper, more new than it had been before. The city waits patiently to be taken and he plans to take it, fast and willingly almost as if a hungry wolf seeking to devour every pleasure in one night. Only one thing stops him…)

Kingston-I can’t say I’m following what you’re saying, Robert…

Robert-Don’t you read? I’m talking about the greatest criminals this city has ever seen…

Kingston-(annoyed) I do read…and if I read correctly there are a lot of infamous factors of the ‘criminal element’ that have been noted since this city’s inception. You need to be more specific, Bobby.

Robert-(sighing) Fine, Stony…three people in particular are who I’m speaking on…a learned man as you claim to be must have heard of Douglas McCloud, Darin Black, and David Jericho, right?

Kingston-I have.

Robert-So what can you tell me about them?

Kingston-I know that McCloud was a monster, Black was a madman, and Jericho, if at all possible, was worse. (confused) What the hell are we talking them for?

Robert-Absolutely correct. (silence). Have you ever wanted to live beyond your name, Stony?

Kingston-I’m going to assume you mean to climb from behind the shadow of your surname and to make your mark in this world.

Robert-Yeah…that’s what I’m talking about.

Kingston-What’s so wrong with being a Riley?

Robert-I hate it…son of Maxwell Riley and Veronica Slade-Riley, grandson of celebrated detective Sterling Riley and businessman R. Tobias Slade, Sr. It’s a legacy I want no part of.

Kingston-Be glad you have one…I never knew my father and my mother is one of the most unassuming sorts you’ll ever meet.

Robert-I want infamy so badly I can taste it…and I will.

(This statement is spoken more to himself as Robert paces, almost as if he forgot Kingston was there. Kingston seems to see this and speaks, jarring him away from his mental solitude.)

Kingston-Infamy, huh? Well if you do what I think you’re about to do, I would like to hope you’re more original than quoting Greek mythology, stealing money from families, or trying to rule this insignificant city…they had no vision in my opinion.

Robert-(smirks) I believe you’re wrong but I’ll allow you your opinion. So will you go in on this with me?

Kingston-Absolutely.

Robert-And what about you?

(This statement is posed to a figure standing in the background of the scene. Standing in the shadows is Douglas Riley, Robert’s older brother. He had been eerily quiet throughout the entire conversation, merely hanging back listening. He speaks few words which is almost as insubstantial as his silence.)

Douglas-Can I have her?

Kingston-(shakes his head) Nothing changes…

Robert-Doug, I don’t give a damn what you do with her…just don’t call me if you make a mess, okay?

Douglas-Agreed.

Robert-Well, gentlemen, let us prepare to take our place in history…oh, before I forget…Kingston, I know how you love a good puzzle. (hands him a book) I found this notebook in the library. Look through it and see what you can find.

Kingston-Will do… (to both) later on, boys.

(The three disperse to their cars and drive away into the night that stretches on before them. Once again, after almost twenty years, we return to Hollyville; with that reurn is the likely and almost necessary return to Dirtyfoot’s. We, as always, begin with the ending in mind. So now we begin again for the last time.)

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

the absolute...FACTS


STATEMENT:When you lie to yourself, it's infinitely worse than when you lie to others...

FACT: I am NOT a gangsta...

I say that as an intro to this next piece...

During younger days, I saw my cousins out in the streets. Sufice to say they were a part of a lifestyle that is so often praised in the public eye-the drug culture. I was curious about but to them I was just 'little cuz', the brains. Once my cousin made a remark that I spent a lot of time in the house; it was said with a funny little smirk, almost a smug thing. It wasn't until now that I see that their silent refusal tolet me get caught up in that, their keeping me in the realm of 'little cuz' was their way of keeping me away from some of the things and choices they dealt with on a daily. That inspired me to write this song, dubbed "House Nigga"...enjoy.

House Nigga

Verse One
No wide eyed innocent hanging from these sharp corners
Blowing rolled altitudes to upper breezes to make contact
Slight sags and gangbang aspirations viewed from a windowed place
Just out of reach despite having some subtle knowledge of that
The comings and goings flash past often, seen through an almost sight
Never desire to be another facsimile of that but curiosity lives
An intelligence in those wondering eyes, nothing made to be streetwise
Not a gangsta goon nor a hoodlum heir, more elegant gentleman quality here
Attractive seductress of the streets call to silent urges to emulate ’em
But with a unspoken thing motions are made for the status quo remainder
So that a untouchable might remain virgin, clear of the dirt hands frequent
Can’t have the one hope become another dream deferred to feed Langston
For a reason hidden eyes watch the steps taken
Covert hands push the longing for shadows to the back of the bus
A smirk played about the mouth to mock the often domesticated boy
Just a front, praying on verges for a house nigga to stay out of the killing fields

Chorus
House nigga serenades sang against the wind
No place for favored ones amid the fields
Curious to see the world of modern slaves
Who try to keep the promised in the house

Repeat once

Verse Two
Not another greenhorn kiddo chasing pavements to meet addicted plays
Slick sneaky strolls pushing colors, white and green shades to any wanting
Lengthy garments dwindle low, dope boy straps tightened to fit the hustle
A seductive lure to the stone deaf, a sheltered one looking on
Quick calls and whispers the standard, nearly heard by waiting ears
Wanting tastes of forbidden constant theirs yet not wanting assimilations
Beautiful mind the child truth’s aura, not of one with hustler swaggers
No gangland and no underworld, Elysian reminisce in all things
Siren women and vehicles hypnotize ’em with haunting repetitions
So without ever saying the promise is set out upon to stay gold
Insomuch that a diamond cannot be confused for another coal
Couldn’t lose the pulse of the morning to disappoint or sadden Maya
Then whispered words give thuggish angels charge over one
Cloaked footsteps follow well enough to keep chosen in line
Simpering spoken out clowning over homebound natures
Mere façade, alms cast at edges for a house nigga to know rightful place

Chorus 2xs