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oh how well it is….

Wed, 12 Jun 2013 00:33:32 -0400

oh how well it is….

“And act like everything fine and if it isn’t, We...

Wed, 17 Apr 2013 02:00:01 -0400

“And act like everything fine and if it isn’t, We ain’t lettin’ everybody in our family business.”

gotta say, definitely as enjoyable as the original

Mon, 25 Mar 2013 16:49:01 -0400

gotta say, definitely as enjoyable as the original

yep. its pretty straightforward. oh i need you, every hour i...

Sun, 10 Mar 2013 23:14:26 -0400

yep. its pretty straightforward. oh i need you, every hour i need you.

contagiously catchy

Thu, 07 Feb 2013 01:01:00 -0500

contagiously catchy

Audio

Sat, 02 Feb 2013 03:26:42 -0500

WoRdPLay Number: Buck Seventy Fiver. It’s the late hours that I...

Thu, 22 Nov 2012 02:59:11 -0500

WoRdPLay Number: Buck Seventy Fiver.

It’s the late hours that I feel like particles, separation from thyself, further from desirables. I can feel the slipping away, chipping to fade, like the dark side of a carnival. Have you seen me? It’s 2am. I’m the child that’s been blindfold. I wish I couldn’t write, wishing my talk fit the honor code. Wishing I wasn’t swimming with the 6 feet barnacles. But I am unspoken for, I am my own ghost, transparency inherently, like the wood from my own boat. You are the beam and the nails, the crosshatch keeping hold, as I navigate us through nastiness, my imagination is our storm. Why can’t I shake this? Or erase this death note? I’m writing in the margins, floating farther from my home. A cacophony, yet probably, I’m conducting this approach. The medley of misery I so often deem my own. I wish I was wittier, spiffier, the twinkle in your toes, perhaps the pep in your step, but unfortunately none of those.

"And we didn’t let them, circumvented their sentence. “Don’t mention it” was conventional, and..."

Wed, 21 Nov 2012 14:16:11 -0500

“And we didn’t let them, circumvented their sentence. “Don’t mention it” was conventional, and beautiful, your intentions.”

- Wordplay 174: I don’t have anything to offer you and neither you to me, but we never asked what we wanted, love transcended our needs. Your hand upon mine as we drift like the breeze. Hearts heavier from handing out, canned goods from our knees. The sponsors were gone, but we were built to never leave. Because they needed us, the beat in us, reminded that no man should ever plead. And we didn’t let them, circumvented their sentence. “Don’t mention it” was conventional, and beautiful, your intentions. You cared enough to force that smile, cause it wasn’t about your grief, it was about the other half, the green-less grass, and reuniting King and the weak. And I love you for that! I haven’t met you but I know that’s how you’d act. To walk away, to play pretend, to flip the channels, recklessly. We couldn’t and we wouldn’t and there happenstance found me. Your long strands, your soft hands, yet I’m broken beyond belief. Fingers interlocked, one hand on the wheel, the other puzzle pieced. From the good God above, he glows in your smiles, and is warmth in your cheek. We’re riding the coastline, battle-scarred with defeats, we can work and we can play, but at this moment there’s only peace.

Werdpleigh 173: I’m just a winter-coat, puffed and fairly...

Wed, 21 Nov 2012 13:44:54 -0500

Werdpleigh 173:

I’m just a winter-coat, puffed and fairly seasonal. Reasonably meaningless and not worth your earful. I am the peace of mind when you dislocate your lyrical, beautiful, interval of clarity, my presence is forgettable. The disdain is minimal, but we’re arms length with tentacles, keeping us from choking off, life’s liberty a spectacle. You can count off your venom armed, or let it soak through like antidote. Except this time, in this line, you’ve been liberated ten-fold. The mental essentials are like a manifold of miracles. Come alive, catapult, sanctify, catacombs. Amplify, animals, question, who’s the matador? I’m a real eyesore. I’m a real cyborg. It only really hit me when I was hit by the front door. I’m on my way out. And as Mr. Mayer played out, it’s the last thing I wanna check before I really check out. Love is the melody that I’m dissonant when belting out, a would-be carry on, but a raucous to his muck, miss, I’m the troublesome troubadour they’re asking you to carry out.

Seriously Gungor? Did you really have to rock out this hard? You...

Mon, 12 Nov 2012 17:31:48 -0500

Seriously Gungor? Did you really have to rock out this hard? You did? Oh okay, got you.

Yep. I’ve stumbled upon gold.

Mon, 12 Nov 2012 11:37:51 -0500

Yep. I’ve stumbled upon gold.

Things sound ever so good on an acoustic gee-tar.

Wed, 07 Nov 2012 15:25:12 -0500

Things sound ever so good on an acoustic gee-tar.

shows like this…need to come back

Tue, 06 Nov 2012 15:37:52 -0500

shows like this…need to come back

Tue, 06 Nov 2012 15:37:48 -0500

shows like this…need to come back

Didn’t I my dear?

Wed, 24 Oct 2012 17:11:19 -0400

Didn’t I my dear?

“You make all things work together for my...

Tue, 16 Oct 2012 19:16:43 -0400

“You make all things work together for my good…”

“Come on out and dance, if you get the chance.”

Thu, 20 Sep 2012 16:40:11 -0400

“Come on out and dance, if you get the chance.”

Wordplizzy One-Seven-Tizzy (172): Sometimes I’m feeling like a...

Mon, 17 Sep 2012 23:15:32 -0400

Wordplizzy One-Seven-Tizzy (172):

Sometimes I’m feeling like a walking piece of crazy. I’m my own kind of sideshow, with no ads shown daily. I’m off on tangents enough to be the main thing. Wanna watch me lose it? I can seat you, no waiting. It’s appalling, a pallbearer for my own waking. My own little zone, you can call it home on the raging. Outrageous, how heinous, how dare this young Asian! Ooh still young? Like a mental vacation! But really, is there really a point to belly-achin’? I tell you what, if there wasn’t, so what? I’m famous! Well at least in my head, and my mama says to say it. Whatever’s on your mind, son, we all get to weigh in. And even if I don’t, trust me I’ll find my way in. You will appreciate, and you will entertain this. You will learn to love your fellow man and your lady, cause even if we don’t meet your plans, we were created, magnificent and in an image we were all made in, a likeness both frightening, like lightening but amazing. You think you know yourself? Just a faint imagination.

“Wordplay” No. 171 Alright roll the tape back, play...

Mon, 17 Sep 2012 01:02:00 -0400

“Wordplay” No. 171

Alright roll the tape back, play it once more, but crank it up on the playback. I don’t really see why it’s gotta be a-sap, guess I don’t wanna be gone like the 8 track. I don’t wanna be gone like your gas tank, burning cool through your cash, but we’re broker than a Kit Kat. I used to be afraid of being of nada, just a flashback. Folks reminisce about his hooks and his hunchback. But remember his baby? That slick, black, hatchback? Crazy, quasi-calm but his motto was to fast-track. He sped through his words, but lacked cool of a Cadillac, more bull and china shop, watch it go gallivant. But then they come along, all the folks and their “matt’a facts.” Touting how the tower talks, yet no one dares to talk back. You bring around your melodies, and sell to me the super-pack. Bundled up superfast, heart in sleeve bubble wrap. Now it’s hard to sleep, knowing kids don’t second glance. They hardly know a thing about patience, what’s that? Intimidated by the facts, lest they get the Can-Can. Kicked in the rump, bump up-up-and away act. Cracked in the skull and the truth might counteract, infecting convention, and the truth becomes hazmat. A beautiful artifact, recovered like a fanny pack, a blast from the past, shoulda stayed but we want it back.

“I ain’t gonna wear the clothes that you’ll...

Fri, 07 Sep 2012 00:33:02 -0400

“I ain’t gonna wear the clothes that you’ll like, I’m fine and dandy with the me inside, one look in the mirror and I’m tickled pink, I don’t give a hoot about what you think!”