Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Clean Up On Isle 6

Big mess
In stress
This lets
Kids get
This mess?

Aren't we all related?

Why hurt the future?

How hurt the future?

When the future feels neglected.




Housing developments for the destined to be arrested

Let's get


Jermaine Jackson

Remain with your passion

Your name is your reaction

You're parents don't own you

They spawned you

You made yourself

So make yourself

Stop cry/dy/ly/trying

Just be
And do

Smoke do be
Get high from inspiration
And then come down from your high horse

And clean up the mess on isle 6

The canfood section

You can digest food for thought.
Or just waste it.
And make a mess...

Friday, September 5, 2008

When Sly Calls

As I walk through the city
Michael Franks' "Best Of" album in my cPod
I can't help but feel the pedestrians
Are watching me
Telepathically disrupting my public meditation
I wish for peace
But I hear them all
The secrets, the pain, the envy
They secretly pain to gain what they envy about me
I don't want to give them power
I simply want them to understand mine
Because no one is more powerful than me
Except that damn phone
They bother me on

"When Sly calls, the prophet speaks"

"Don't touch that phone..." God whispers to the passersby
They disobey
Or am I disobeying them?

How hard is it to get a cab downtown?
Am I that dark?
Or am I that dark?
Do they fear the black I am?
Or the does the black in them fear the light I bring?

I can't help but ponder such ludicrous things.

"Hello, Michael? It's Sly..."

Too bad I'm just...