S is for Spore: Of the words (Early freestyle)

Hero's and Mad Villains

Flystyle point of view. Knu. revolutionary. Everychanging. the I Ching sings us into the new millenium from the old one millenium. Piccaso, Dali, George Orwell and Robert Anton Wilson define our times. For me. Times turn tables over and around, and mines a short story. fly agaric the long and short of it is a litmus test for gyllibillyg tea. How can i begin to write my story my poem without flowin. How can it be a race if the times up, how can there be any rules if they are not updated by I Ching. With non-action no-mind and no war we can all score goals. Freestyle points of view might sharpen you. Or stew you and screw you around a shaft thread needle eye and round the loop again, loopy is true on many different levels of magnifiction, but also true on many chronillogical magnifictionx, where time gets twisted and tales get lifted blown sky high and the class get a whiff of what the horse just did and yet i guess if shit were roses we could get away with such a dark trick, such an evil example of casting spells, casting words at the reader whoever they are and whomever they are becoming > but, no doubt just behind YOU and them > everyone is coming! like a new faucet got turned on, like the bandwidth just square rooted Google-bit or like a Tinderloo curry powerspray barkin at the toilet! Here runs everyone, skipping and holding hands, the children at first and then everyone joins in > skipping again happy and on a great adventure like the ones they used to flow on as a kid a likkle nipper i remember playing superman and dressing up in my cape, and running and saving things like my tonka truck the once about to topple off a shelf,

my Evil kenevil bike about to get crumpled by a kitten mitten > Eye remember saving an entire city of ants > million of them under attack by my dads hot water, and i managed to save a few......even though i knew - while they were running with carefully square-cut pieces of leaf material in their gobs - their home was obliterated > I remember when i woza ladd > when i was Batman aged five. I stopped a crime gang trying to get at my dinosaur cookies in a stolen Police car belonging to Ko Jack and then, at once i remember racing my tinka cars around the living room carpet and along the complex roads and pathways created by our furniture, the TV, waste basket and various plantpots - in synchrony with "The Italian Job" - which was playing on the TV. i remember the leyland mini's racing through the water with the gold and the Great Train Robbery and all villains who were sometimes Hero's too or, at least, they interchanged often enough so that you didn't get to spooked or carried away with one side or tuther. The Hero or the Villain were differentiated because they appeared on Television, and they continued to change, some change each episode, some change each week, some would take on new characteristics each month or season and change. Characters would give birth to whole new shows and spin offs or change off's and model toys which i could buy at the shop down town, or ask mummy to get for me. Change was a constant in my favourite characters from my youth, that's why i now love the I Ching......its better than X Box! sez"Fly agaric 23" The Hero and the Villain kept changing and morphing like a secret agent, or maybe it was that a secret agent was changing the TV programming behind the scenes or was it the lsd this time? in this case? am i in Gotham City. X-avier? Livia? huh, and then they the spook programers would start to make real films, reel ones like the proper ones mum and dad watch, the ones about the real world you know the ones... and about what the really real people do, where Harrison Ford, Neo, The Godfarther and Hannibal Lectur are all real people you already knew that didn't ya. know. you did? n't?

I know this rap because i have already met some, dreaming, beaten them and eaten them again and again, i did this when i was just five years old. Now looking back and cooking up retrospect into a brand knu retro brew i drink and see visions of my superself stew > realized as a child > magnificent wonder child brilliant and outgoing goal oriented and with a name to come > and so... i want to rekindle it, i want to kill the bad guys, save the girl and save the truth and save the whole world by being brave, following my heart and instinct, being a man and standing up for what i think is right, just, best for everyone, based upon scientific research and good 21st century thinking but > peacefully and without violence > unless it is a poetic violence of course in which case its just another taboo subject to assassinate! and the beat goes on > and i write from the hilt, post and i tilt the whole world 23 n'alf degrees because see these words that i write they are my almighty effort to roll the dice of Einstein and great things are within them if you just got time to pick em out, in these times i doubt more than 20 people would read this far into a blog, and then get stuck thinking about who and how and the whots and the wheres and the ? cares and who dares spare a moment never mind spare a dollar to look into their OWN ignorance and sit back and then holla > Fly Agaric 23!

its you it's you [echos] after all this time now i see and now i do know what you were saying about the new language, ergo ego the reality sandwitch the illuminatea and the blue beings of light from sirius star system sirius i'm serious not delirious they follow us > they are CNN they are NBC and BBC they are after me > They are after the truth the scoop the next thing, the next beat the next song with which to scribble out the meaning and replace it with double speak, thats double speak! Dubble speak > like the speak from the brilliant Novel 1984 by George Orwell and whats more creepy is this newspeaky easy is everywozznt throughout the mediocre peach blossom rose shit > like a VIRUS it creeps down the aya who aska? wires in your own fucking house right now it's growing snakes slide not ladders up ascension glide but falling down into your money seed bank screen behind your eyelids, TV > forget about it its all behind your eyelids, radio whatever its all behind your eyelids > go see the Buddha. and its not getting anybetter but please don't sweater i'm here to help, slave whoops freud slip i mean save >

Renewl fool now slither fly drool if i'm wrong but i'm not wrong i'm write hear to bring news of a new calendar called YOU, pick up your talk tapes unfasten your tongue twisters > the whole worlds on my shoulders it seems, and i breath fire and mold boulders with unfastened lightening one-bolt rhymes, two times three times me got so much vine my tapes is grapes > and i rub one out for the treble and two for the bass come on three and four all of em, so i see a virus a dirty horrible peaceful mixed bag of mixed signals, like the Hero and the Villain spillin down the vine of your soul, your families soul, the soul of your own children and their children's children, the Vine is out of control. Stop! the serpent of CNNBBCNBC from cummin any closer to my kids, behind my kidlidz > help me i have the snake in my gaze i have the cathode ray school of secret agents on my fishing hook and it feels like theses conga eels or something else...line just snapped. yes. The Villains are not only in government but Holywood, my I-Pod and almost everywhere i look since reading Basho. I sprang from nothing for no reason without space, without time even for you never mind me, without temperature just empty nothing, just voidness, the pit of bottomless nothingness, no atoms, not even electrons are here just no reason and some spaceless featureless anti stuff, but we will call it > the big bang yeah pull the other one, my names fly agaric and i'm a maverick. Threw a brick through the whitehouse window with a message for the president it said "lie down on the floor and be quiet" - a legendary poem; a joke and poke at violence the world inflicts on innocent terrorists Dali.

Maybe if we all become surrealists NOW then we can crush the evil of good and get the show over with and start this new age i keep hearing about in my dreams and catching a little bit each time i awake, its about a future where scholar mystics have developed a new language based upon 21st century scientific research and correlations between comprehensive honest findings rather than the usual government faith based paranoid deception dogma and corrupted ideology. Why are we standing for it? I cannot any longer - i threw my TV out the window and took up the ancient art of I Ching. Eye recommend it, especially when compiling ideas for blog entry topics and further ideologies. imagine the kungfusion when the President finds himself reading the I Ching and adopting it for his people, do we have enlightened people or, do we have psychopaths with a new book? a new idea to trample upon? another target to wipe out? another group of revolutionary thinkers to smash and discredit while they sell debits like its creditz tsa toppsy turvy whorld out there > and its based upon how many young children they can kill in Bagdad or Kabul or Vietnam or the next place on their list. Them being the worldwide corporate armaments, pharmaments and language virus pushers and Empirical maniacs > if you search for peace, enlightenment, understanding, gratitude, forgiveness, kindness, caring, luverlyness, openness, sharing, togetherness, friendliness, compassionateness, carefulness, humbleness, gratefulness, nessynestness > what you project you reflect and subject to the object of your precept. ion your concept to your pants constructing, a very large conducting wave called "life" timewave or the octave of energy has a very very wild freekquency and fluctuating wave length. From small to large would be one way of putting it > faster and slower > fatter/thinner > more or less < these are all ways of saying "It' but what the hell is going on here? everything is vibration right? so......why do i not recieve a super graph for everything as a citizen of earth, for no charge? well > Eye do obviously but i'm asking the teacher here "hey, wheres my public omnigraph that goes from light into matter? huh? or the one that goes from ultraviolet to glass? "

huh, is it because the elemental categories contained within the pitiful science that terribly holds these I Chingwaves or these moment to moment "jumping NOW's" ? Who or WHAT is gonna prove anything other than what the I Ching already tells us every conscious moment? i mean....if you want to get into books and rhetoric or any of that silly kind of stuff. Painters, musicians and poets [artists so called] have known this for years and now its time for YOU to join US. The audience must climb down off their kitchen breakfast stool, get out of YOUR living room and off that couche. Change the world Damn it. With processing and with knuw questions, revolution in the minds of the people > it must be a massive uprising of conscious average-everyday people, full of love and joy and community - to birth this new age this new world. I am guessing you will need these prose tools [in progress], these maybelogic tools to start your communities and please > don't be afraid of the China person. Don't be afraid of the brown man or the green man/women. Greet them kindly. Please Invite them to join the peaceful gathering of tribes or, be slay'd by the waring bullies and megalomaniacs trying to literally take over the world outside their own little eyelidz - imbeciles. The unlikelyhood of there being a singularity is a rare thing, even in nature - featureless, spaceless, less and less into the anti, the no-thing.

But i rhyme on like a madman in a burning tower. My science not creditable but DNA see behind your eyelidz. DNA requires singing dancing and the tale of the tribe, but it was stopped by the horse people, when we left the cows and their dung trail and found horse we found trade, but this rhyme moves the horse to other end of cart and then turns it back into a cow. Mu Mu Big Bangers splatter all wet imagination = steady state universe of June 16th 1953 we are moving towards singularity and there is a transdimensional object at the end of history like Mckenna said, and it's casting an enormous shadow, pull us into human history wack story > it has turned out for me rather violent and unfair i mean look at the news man...... i'm very dissapointed at the Big playas playing an unfair game > stole all the best cards, left us with nothing but words, so here we go, eat this yellow snow yo; megacomplex 21st century sense factory, like a fake dollar manufactree i'm setting up for transformations like nothing ever happened or seen or whitnessed before. seen > my mother > biology she's in control of this...weather machines ha, don't take the piss out of my mum like that, not a machine - a lye; a false reason; a reckless test of a weapon.

A weapon that becasue of its definition just blew up your chance to join and hold hands as we sing a new planet into being, individual parts we all play, we all sing at different times but together mega vegetable mind resurrection, plant shamanism has returned. Lost until now victim of degredation, media mangling theological entanglement and priest crafty motherfuckers. Ergo > Ego is like a cancerous growth, like plaque, like colesterol and it need regular dissolving, in my maybelogic opinion. Unless regular boundary dissolving is practiced every new moon or so, if a trip into the brazen Hendrix dreamsilver bus sticky readybreakfast glow and into the boundless intentionality, the buzzbomb of nature and cult of intoxication and wild sex orgy, wild like Courtney Love. Every full moon fucking and drugfeast in the streets, all getting dunged up on shroomz. Everybody havin a cow moon, a cow man. everybody becomes their very own captain cave man. Dissoving their already tiny egos since they tripped just 2 weeks ago into an empowered communit called eastwestside Eden "heart of mother land" desertifiction conference in Africa the cats the cradle of planetary diversification grass lands dried up and mushroom fests died off until now, today here i preserve you, in a bog a blog like mead, a blog of preservation rhymeazone solution, preserve a shroom for humanity! domestication of horse instead of keep following the cow and NOW look what you did with that Horse shit, i'm talkin Toad shit or cow shit depends how you wanna look at it. Cow dung shroom to Horse shit beer to the wheel to agriculture to plunder and the

NEW WORLD ORDER typical male dominace pillage of natural resources, subjugation of women and denial of connection to goddess "Dr. GOEBBLES NAMED REICHS CHANCELLOR Surprise solution to leadership problem by Partei Committee. radio speech viewed decisive. Berlin crowds cheer. statement expected. Goring may be named Police Chief over Heydrich." [break] "You know what he's done, don't you? He's taken the best about Nazism, the socialist part, the Todt Organization part and the economic advances we got through speer, and who's he giving the credit to? The New Deal. And he's left out the bad part, the SS part, the racial extermination and segregation. it's a Utopia." - The Man in the High Castle by Philip. K. Dick.

A is for Awake: FW title plays

Acrillic Figa
The following is a fresh poem i just spat out, which is fourteen anagrams of Finnegans wake. After that are quotes i collected and posted at maybelogic academy six months ago titled "3000 years of psychedelic poetry, Finnegans wake and the Cantos" Read them! And read them again.....

Finnegan wakes, awake eng finns,
finnegan askew, a fake news ginn,

Weaken gas finn, weakening fans
Nasa knife gwen, Anna fiske gwen

Fake anne wings, fake anna sewing
Ages waken finn, Sage waken Finn

Wake fang nines, fakes wang nine,
Insane fag knew: sneak fang wine,

Wage sneak finn, fang nina weeks
waking ann fees, wahe snake finn,

Fawn ask engine, fan wan seeking,
a swan gene fink, fawn sank genie

Gas ann week fin, fan as gene wink,
Gnaw as knee fin, nag as week finn

flynagains awake.

"This is bureaucracy, " said dionysus, and he smashed his wine jug in anger; beside him, his lynx glared balefully. - Book four, the eighth trip, or Hod. (Telemachus sneezed) The Illuminatus Trillogy. "Illy Trilly.

"The resurrection and the life. Once you are dead you are dead. That last day idea. Knocking them all up out of their graves. Come forth. Lazarus! And he came fifth and lost the job. get up! Last day! - James Joyce, Ulysses, Page 87

"Section C: Re:volutions and Evolutions.
One of the greatest difficulties facing the world today is the passing from one historical era to another. - Count Alfred Korzybski, Science and Sanity, Page XXXVI

"In Tibetan the Kalachakra puja is called dam-jho which is particularly important during times of great difficulties - of wars and natural disaster's. The Kalachakra is the mandala of the four door's or Qing - Ghou.



E is for Ear: cumz evez rear booty

unedited freestyle mind spill revolution....

Shannanigums Wave Book 1 Chapter 1 d by flyagaric23

if you missed it i come again. babies and gentlewomen, butterflies, all the "Unrepresented natural whorl'd" to come > In birth, birthing NOW wording, yes. All this is coming, everybody is coming. it's called the revolution and I Acrillic, Agaric, that's fly agaric will be an avatar for something like it, but not "It" cuz it is YOU, when you actualize the new world, the new age, toss your calendar in the bin. it's sinn, i am Pagan. here me...i say i am neo pagan, that means i am with the earth, she, here soils, tyo rukh/phul ke ho? [what tree/flower is that, in nepali] Acrillic Rowan Atkent Red Blackthorn Brazen Nut! nuts and friut, the most common mushroom throughout all fairy land, and not a soul seems to "show that they know it" some BIG secret? An agent of evolution contained within a seed planted in this Revolution. me Fly acrillic spinning a whole new calendar/seal language from my fungers in a freestyle lingo to show my sincerity and care for hilaritea, and justice and crying out for peace LOUD. Poetry, i am the poet, the return if you push me and so i am the second coming, right out of the tomb, sleeping for over 12'000 years my spirit arise like your eye's alight the skies ablaze woid is born, and again. I'm not afraid to use my poetic heritage to spill facts on chumps about "Trees" "plants" "animals" and their role in 'Our" history, they are everything and us, but now we sit on the verge of destruction, like two suicidal lovers [maybe Micky and Mallory] maybe but on the edge, and then....Woid is born.....and it's me who brings it tyas-ko phul khah nu hun cha? [Can you eat the fruit?] Like the local drug enforcement were at the first day of creation, no don't eat the source, oh no, naughty devil, evil women, ate the APL og no, what now? erm, make war on anybody who thinks that god is in nature...."God is in me" I am King, bring me my supper now...etc etc.....get it? No? well err, the Trees the great tree of Mugna contains in itself virtues ofapple, hazel and Oak. No joke i grow around oaky doak steel works didn't eye, go ask Alice! Hazel is the Poets tree. really that's not just a clever rhyme, it's true....i'm really cryin here....tryin not to tear up too much but I'm here, fly agaric and bwoy have i got news.....I am the stag of severn times, over the flooded world, borne of wind, i descend in tears like dew, true...look at me over there i lye in glittering tinsel towns, and yet mycelium roots hidden under hills Clent, Malvern, hereford, Warster. War me....War me lyk.....I fly aloft like a griffon to my nest on the cliff, i BLOOM amunguss the most spectacular flowers, i am both the Oak and the lightning that strikes electric eeled and reeled lightning bolt one legged, shade foot, mycopoet, mushroom defender of HER, nature, come with your bulldozers and sleep at the controls of a 10 tonne truck [civilization] out of control, i'm pushing on the deadmans handle, stop this train.....i wanna get off.....i'm a poet, swimmer, drummer drowning in 21st Century metaphysicks, too bright for my own power flower source, to in love with Fish to sound sane, too: over enthralled by certain Bark's that i'm laybulled "barking" i'm over over come by Fragrance of "Dolmens of Ireland" overcome by facts about psychotropic roots, to everything, the whole mess, mopped up with mushrooms, you kiddin, itwood be crazy....[wipes eyes] folks running around speaking gobbulday guck, jabberwocky, spellin all bazzerkatronic, never heard of beatifick innovation: whatch you cat stare into space momentarily between chewing cat nip. THERE, GOD of cats, behold a pale horse. Behold the Alphabet and the Goddess, a poet gone mad in a prophets world, poets lay praying like Buddhas, Buddy saturdevas, banshees, Goddess yes sitting still. Like a Tree. Just like a tree has stood for six million years six billion stares from different creatures just strivin for light, change, language, a cat......does it not strive for language....and I teach the councillors their wisdom, i inspire the poets, I do....I rove the hills with just two books like a raving roving bear, grizzly i roar like Winter sea in blackpool, and i fly agaric like finn, like Horus, and like jesus, come again, again like the receding wave. Who but fly agaric to unfold the secrets of the unhewn dolmen? 2062
B.S [Bikram Sambat] Clay water wool and blood, wood lime and flax-thread full DNA twisting Yosh yoshi, full twist: The Nine of Nimrods Tower. [babel Loth Foraind Saliath Nabgadon, Hiruad. Dabhid, Talamon, cae, Kaliap, Murriath, Gotli, Gomers, Stru, Ruben, Achab, Oise, urith, essu, Iachim, Ethrocius, uimelicus, iudonius, Affrim, Ordines. ogham's friends > These are not the Runes witch are German language type stones, this is food of the gods, a world of Trees and plants, nature herslef, herbalism and it's reconnetion to Poetry, authority. How many months are their in YOUR year? There are thirteen i say i say isay thirteen, a new octave, phase shifting post kwantum jump, into hypereality, 28 lunar mushrooms, the stems and branches of trees which surely, must have.....must have...born ideas at the least in man? the wind of river, rise of sun..yes..The flower petal growth patterns, forms and functions, trees and species and tales and berries and altered hyperreal real trips man, you know like trips and like wow this is an amazing tree, better Hush hush this one, called it jesus or fly agaric or something, you will find in English there IS no WORD for fly agaric, this is latin i speak fly agaric [fly killer] which is a lye, i just put you too sleep, but now i want everybody to wake up, finnegan askew it you and you, everybody...your all equal, all got brains and hands and limbs to build and march and make peace and bring love and all that malarchy, but how you gonna present this to the monarchy...erm....excuse me miss, we gotta change your calendar, your language and your drug laws, excuse me...my names fly agaric, i'm the worlds greatest living poet, i know it and show it when i spin it, into your royaltea, your oily spoiltness. Gosh washed down with dry blackthorns, a sip of river stour, and a then a mouth full of fevers, enough to kill a mon, chlorine in the water, taxes, embezzlement in muzzled nuke deals wanna make you puke, same old same old rich scotch stinkin, red faced bizzness men, dinasaurs, dying of greed, on their way OUT....the rivers are getting cleaned up like Charles bronson became Julia Butterfly and it was genesis wish, Justice through life affirming actions, growth to bring change, real potting and creating of space for plants, but...i'm not really talkin my talk tapes to you peeps, my kind loving intelligent audience, i am squarking at the big Birds, the main playas, who will not read this poem because it' already going going gone way over their heads, heads of state think my poetree is anything but first rake. Some say thou art john the baptist, and some Elias, and some, one of the ancient prophets risen from the dead....pick up your pens my brothers and sisters rebirth your ancestor spirit with ink, kick up a blinding stink, tinker away at your arts until you can generate enough power as maybe 72 big farts and just blow government out your ass, take in a big deep breath through the valleys, from HER, Alivia the real real world, far from cameras, roads and bars, breath in through the lost valleys, through the unnamed lakes, 60'000 of them, and then blow government and dogmatic reality pundits out your behind, bzzzzurp. And Poetry is born, telemachus sneezed and gave birth, come again out the tomb, the poets womb stone, the head zone, where you is yourself, don't let nobody tell you nuthing but yourself, but see ignorance from that view, but Ignarance is impossible with TV, not Cause TV is bad, but because there are so many channels now you watch what YOU like, what you know, what you ego feels comfortable with. Wake up from history people it's a nightmare brought to a Screen near you, it's eating you and me, but i'm fly agaric come to tell you it's trying to eat me, but i just swallowed it whole, language swallowed itself and gave birth to a Muscarinic anatagonist: knu part chemical, part poetic equation which saves lives. By doing this in a different language, i translate for my RNA, and for you...Phig trees are awake or was i planting seeds that pissed em off so much? is it just beacause i challenge their god, their gods, i chew em up and spit out their husks, i say "So strike me down you son's of bitches" each day and still i watch the birds fly high at sundawn, the newspapers are still delivered and the ocean still breathes a deep sigh of relief, the blues spill for ever and ever, god in all things, in everything and so not in a single Sigil, temple, word or spell. Hell does hot scare me, but pictures of Young soldiers of god getting blown to smitherines in iraq does. Who else? but me to bring the age of the moon, a new age of new calendars and merrygoround amusements, who can change the hills, mountains or Bough's as i can? who? where? Ku? I am the womb of everywomen, i really mean my POEM IZ...queen of every hive, shield to every, innocent, lost, hungry, diss own'd chiles head, i am now a super cunning poet who invokes prophesea, i invoke Timewaves for seafarers, wake surfers i sing praises, celebration, my voice, i am.....Woid birthing....happyness and i am salmon in a river or a pool, eaten a gold ring, Oh lord my belly....i am still the Lions roaring of a winters sea, and on i go....into the darkness, emerging as a ray of sun with a new plum plucked frsh as daisy froma plum tree, seed imbedded inside no need for manufacture, it's DNA abundant like oxygen, like water, but not for free. I am a god of druid fluid dynamical systems, stems and branches exstend around my museum or forest show room, i am a skilled artist, i am also twenty five battalions, i am an OX in strength, my powms inflated to the size of the globe, i'm swallowing all boundaries and limits, Woid is born onto the edge of an Abyss, how long till world war three, and will it be televised or will it be before our very eyes? I am the world and it's over if you want it, i want it, i take the weight of a revolution in the minds of everybody onto my shoulders, a poet from the future, on an American adventure, here to save the universe and kill the baddies, with nothing but rhyme and love for others, demonstrated by confidence in my mouth, to hand, to eye to knob coordination, and compassion to hold back 5000 tanks and unlimited flanks of troopers, running with live ammunition in 6005, a crusade hidden behind a panic and a regular public disturbance, the media spin Dr. Pundits

Shannanigums Wave Book 1 chapter 1 b by flyagaric23

killing meaning and poetry every day, and each day i get stronger, my raps get better and longer and stronger again, and i brake the chains holding me in this electric chair and wammo out out, awake and it's......NEO....standing there, a dream he sez don't scream he sez, everything you know is wrong, reality is a story fed to you by the powers that be, but it's too late for me, and Holywood to wake you up, a movie Huh, is this a joke, Christ still in pain and suffering while war profiteers still profiting, how fitting Christs warriors and world wars, holy books, truth, ownership and laws, Dogma, Eugenics magik and more Bombs, and i am gonna bring it all to a stop Now with these whispering drums, these whispering poems of peace, to excorcise all demons, prophets, taboos and so called new papers, so called Pope's leaders, official representatives, where are you? hello...hello....is anybody there? this is 2005 right? Earth? huh, i here to early, y'all just gonna sit and give up on birthing a nation, birthing a new age, a new people, new and beautiful like lovers rolling amongst flowers, these flowers are ours, and all things go back to her, mother matrix momma earth. Don't doubt it, i know we all have our own woids for it, and please forgive my own waxing poetic on it, but timewave calendar seal discs spun like records by the priest who brings in the new year sound like a valid shamanic practice in 6005, the DJ, spinner of the discs, sacred scrolls wound upon vinyl, grooves carry feelings and moods reflecting seasons and gods, MC's bring in the revolution, It's happening everywhere, it's just the airwaves are jammer spammed with automatic machine DJ's playlists so empty of music it's called clear channel because no real "Musiq" actually comes through it's channels of communication. Real music is meaningful, packed with revolution and passion, full of knu languages independence, a maverick approach, from the street, the underdog, the unheard and nameless, the annonymous massive, we run music like the way we run poetry, and this is for all of you babies and gentlewomen, all of you who sit and wish and wonder and ponder the bullymen, the rough and violent ways of a dominator culture, on the verge of a new Partnership civilization, where official contracts between governments and it's suspects, i mean subjects, replaces wars and rogue macho orgies of Cock technology, shooting it all off into space, shooting it around a tube and smashing sperm into other sperm to look at the little bits of sperm interact and them call em names and write a story, a fairy tale about em which is unquestionable and yet....meanwhile the other 99.9 percent of humanity half starves to death, carn't catch a breathe in the social chaos, the rules and minimum wages, weed smokers pot in cages, lovers and poets forced into the wheels of corporate industree, if your not with us your a terrorist now, see, i seen this a little while back and so i filled by back sack with books upon how to slay the beast, the fake priest calling itself "God" and i learn't how to disturb it, for my own Evil and megalobibliomaniac wayz. These raps turning darker as the truth gets brighter and nearer to me, who switched the lights on! like dylan sez, and i dream on the couch don't slouch, love grouch some cats know this, they drop illness like Shaman, get it off their chest drummin strummin paints and breakdancinsing gekko Ginseng it say it clear, seal calendar getting born this smorn, woke up with the horn, woke up and John Zorn was sounding like my poem, complex cycles of sun/moon stem and branch seed banking, the Trees the trees, please here me, the Treestyle raps will bring the revolution, the words will spin webs with poetic plebbs, amayba logic, maybelogic magik and it might be tragic if the wrong officer reads my raps and takes my talk tapes down too deep, wants to blow me into next week, with all this time travel, this true gritt, gravel Acrillic [down on his knees praying to the goddess] Truth, wisdom, peace, kindness compassion who can ask WHY. Its self reflective, obvious on the tip of your tongue, YOU cannot be wrong, but when a group get together and want to inflict terror errors emerge, and were on the verge of world war three it seems, but we all still enjoying our Ice creams, i bring trees: [Hazel, Oakholly, Ashthorn, WhiteRowan, Birch Ivy, ElderWillow, Alderthorn, Vinepalm and mistletoe] ode to Rob Graves and forgot one or two corpses, but the Truth is SHE earth > gaia, our mother, mutter > she IZ all around us, born unto us > in language watch your street names grow veins and start bursting with brazen rayzens, bursting with hazed purple mittens, her hands grabbing for us, asking us to help her, speak woid is born, birth to nature in gesture, the language and my sandwidget iteract with Mayonnaise, i tryin aiy eye? at least i'm droppin live. It's 05 so where you at? who's live for the life force, no money no family connections, no government backers, crazy cracker lawyers, nothing...just me and my pen.....my ship set sail, off my lip > mail comes sweet APL agaric crimson in hue, Which grows concealed in Forest Celyddon, we are all Don's brothers, sisters you are princess, and that don't mean you can wear a crown, or a fancy gow'n, although crown is nice...yes.....we can use this, a crown of blackthorns from my school, Quarry Bankrupt, Industry found Electricity and left me for coal dust, and the thickets still grow through the smog, through the social fog and pollution and wars....the trees, the Ents, they walk and weave and grow like Gaia's fingertips, creeping up and into our visionfieldof > the roebuck$ in the thicket. And poets sit cross legged, calm. waiting for Spring already, singing ancient songs of LOVE. Attraction, bringing planets here through rhymes and reasons to help us, a call to our spore core family, we are interesting so....come save us....we all don't want to enforce WEestern Logic, Christian Science, measurment, religion and war and Hummers on you. really i speak a truth you must hear me Clearly, more clearer now i move nearer, a toaster comes closer, to dose ya, read and bleed like jesus, don't get croix keep your legs crossed, i don't critic ART or culture or motion, just the ocean of things which "Sleep" brings, i sing my songs and dance around, Look...


to me....to me.....and search for a better world, a better way, a love world where we can all speak freely, groovy, yeah and be merry, use our peaceful technology to communicate, have fun and be happy, so....why am i not happy? because i am changing the nappy of "George Bush and Tonee Blah" Blah, i feel "better and fitter" than these people. i'm not disrespecting them, they are all equally coming Buddhas, but their ideas are crappy, they have no good rhymes. They don't know how to hang out without their friends, family and security. Pussies i would call them, and so i continue i my mission to bring a brush to each Kid, paint and canvas speakers fresh rhymes and free food, everywhere. Stop the war. God iz Dead. Please read Kneeche he knows what i meaN, my dog is dead and i'm unddergroud. Who would deny that Nature should be our sovereign? Huh? How can a river, an ocean, another living creature be anything but "Her" She mother earths DNA code, Gods, eyes, legs, all Coded like this text like my uncle jams Jones, i'm kiddin but not stoppin till i got hip hoppin flip floppin over the gates and into the vaults, language and culture have come. The time is come. We stand on the doorsteps of power, its the hour of change, Revolution is coming and its feeding back until it reaches a new phase shift and SHE is wise, fickle, ninefold muse, primordial ooze Omnibroadcast news, DNA sono Bio Luminessence. And this might be called spammin when i'm just jammin out the only way i know how, no time to edit, no way, in the flow, now YOU know........i just make this stuff up, and then drop it with a passion to make groves in spiral gyra donut star systems, spinning sugar sweet fly sucker, awakening, resurrected and to be perfected, here cumz Eves Rearbooty

JC is for Jesuspect Christereogram: of freestyle writing

Acrillic Figa
Jesuspect Christereogram of freestyle
Acrillic Figaand thats not freestyle, makes me smile and all the time ticks tocking off the shelves, kids without food in their mouths and still gossip persists and opportunities for ___style responses are missed. Talk is cheap and my rhymes priceless. if you know me then show me your subtle moods and leave those who want to, to stay prudes. ___style sat day, i'm sittin down that's right, and i ain't gonna and i dunt wanna come here just to fight, or talk shit about knowing it, rather walk it by showing it. Small talk and short sentences, fake Haiku's and fake white blues. Take offence with your ego script that i just flipped right in front of yer face, but i didn't wanna do it like that i don't mean YOU or YOU i mean everybody > every hue held in a zoo, every theif who stole Hues from Saul williams news and wants to prance and dance with the dead while half in, half out of bed. It's sed, word is born day to day, and i'm speaking in tongues wanna play a game? and don't need encouragment to make further indents into the philosophy of presidents. Now the talk about the woods, the butterflies loving sweetness - don't kwight get THROUGH to these dumb devils that surround us. And as the Dali Lama sits and in some sense quits the raps for walkin [or sittin] it's the future he spouts from his posture, and it's that very sittin that i equate with talk of birds, blazing zing tin flash marmalade sunsets, metaphors about nature which i could keep posting and boasting about, and how humble and ZEN again i am, how peace and love will save the world. Well Bush sez that too, so.....wot cha gunna do, when the Storm troopers start roundin up suckers who never spoke super fluid dynamical systems, war game startegy, rolling armies of poets and flowits, armed with explosive surprises and sentences powerful enough to turn barbedwire into candy floss, tanks into turntables, snakes into microphone cables and lead crazy horses back to their safe stables. so next time your in staples shout out your poem, get the whole world goin with your flowin. But quit the small talk, gossip ego flexin, tossin yer fanny all up in a humble knights scene, like it was feminism not Nazism that becomes the death of innocent men, and so women and children. this ain't a joke no more. It....just ain't funny anymore......Children dyin cuz the language ain't providing the sustainable nutrition of Imagination for a nation. And talk is cheap but my rhymes pricesless, wot you gonna do create a new name and come back twice as faceless. it's the third world baby and i'm now talkin to YOU, yes YOU you hear me, tell me what you gonna do, to help the kids dyin in iraq and in the Ghettos and back streets cuz the virus of language is loose and lassooed by the Pirates that sold you barbie and Micky mouse models and metaphors for control, and that why if you don't wanna know then dont follow me, don't swallow me down into the hole, cuz Alice Liddle plays the fiddle and Alice Coltrane plays the harp, and this hole i'm going down, well really it's perty dark, but i hope to bring light with my rhymes and reasons, and clever avoidancing of rhymin too much with cliche seasons.... cuz i don't bite, i chew and drink bitter, i don't hike, but wage i'm much fitter so unfasten your talk tapes and wright it like you mean it, don't act like a silly groupie slave bitch and be so gullibull. Full of shit, a foolish copydog, and those who think they know me will get wave after wave of flow me until their head rolls off, cuz i'm a proff of the woid, that's like Void = nothing. I know nothing, word is Woid to write up the wrong it, get a note pad and sling it over your back into a bag and walk around your mind remembering to tag > all the things you might find. When i freestyle i leave residue and it's like the steam from my lizard poo, stinky but good for you, to grow on, so go on and wright a new rap, but don't get throwin down that wack shit, don't regurgitate the same crap that you might read or hear about > that's just more bullshit from someothers deadhead like Chinese whispers i say [go and read Kungfewsis, The dharma or the ved] as, and don't believe the hype from the new corporate invaders, the new manifest bushwar darth vaders, come to be our persuaders, and force us too way'd through swumps in our nice knu pumps, or wear a face mask when i'm swollen with the mumps. if you wanna know me then flow me. if not then blow me. I'll see you on the flipside, the B Side the Instrumental, cuz it's the whole universe i come to save through my temple called the mental. damned straight, and let me add that boys who call emselves bad boys remind me of mothers "shouting to them down in the basement....your dinners ready, hope your not playing with yourself again you bad boy"
It's right > most battle raps are just dung flung shit flingin. No enlightenment, no real encouragement to topple the government with insight and well being, with survival requiring a riffle rather than a copy of Finnegans Wake or the Cantos by Pound. If language is the name of the game, and i'll put my head on the line for that claim, then we gotta INVENT it and cement it to the walls of the new up and coming revolution, a solution made from spraypaint, vinyl, lyknow and Micrphone ceremonial amusements. Yet, down in the basement it's sickofrantic "groupy-ism" repeating a rapper on the Bush pay rolls raps, about how their Hummer reflects their "Patriotic raps" or violent tendencies, which may well be a reality in the ghetto > i don't doubt it i have seen it [bronx, brooklyn, 9th ward, hunters point, st. Pauls..... but the revolution i imagine [in my own tiny mind] is about a knu language, assimilating nature, communication and direct transmission of gods and nothing less. That's why Saul williams is a bridge built, as deep as Loch Ness. Listen to the content, listen to the topics, it's not violence it's violets, not the city but the jungle, or a nice amalgamation of a jumble of poetic motiffs, since ancient times - like lost corral reefs he brings up the jewels and thats the revolution fools. Super bionic natural world wide raps, the power of HER in the air, the care free throwing of freestlye mowings of the lawns of inner city garden places, inner persepctive to bring knowledge of self a feel for the ego and a new light of nature to quilt that ego, with a sticky moss or a fungus an organic blanket, a vocal gloss, like Walt Whitman not Walt Disney, it's the leaves not snow whites frilly sleeves. So when rappers have rapped themselves up in a ball and the new world order has scooped up them all with equal violence, equal suffering, equal paranoia and equally, equall truth....look around yourself what do you see? Buddhas meditating on the steps of city hall? conscious rappers up on MTV showing us all, how it's done? who knows, but the the future flow's will be about flowers, cuz when the new world dawnes it's gonna be ours for the takin, not fakin, for the mind/nature interface bakin is takin place right now, this is a shout in the street. Woid is born, lets all move our feet, through down a battle raps and instead treat ourselves to friendship raps, construct raps, poems about bottle caps, divine curves on the inside of a loved ones thigh, a glint or glisten in someones eye, language allows for such attension to detail that it seems that we could write it and just send it by airmail to another nation or city and still have it come out pritty when it's read. Why not right a l;ove letter to a stranger instead, poetic terrorism means random acts of love and kindness, you carn't get more ironic than that cuz now the evil violent terrorist is back. On TV wearing a turban and looks nearly black or brown, who's next the Chinese, world war three fought on MTV against China, just cuz their leaders are demented as our we think we KNOW all of China, all 3 Billion or so of them, strangers in a stange world, speakin a different language, who knows but the speakers, thinkers, actors and seekers of meaning in the moment, so when the war comes and the new Arabs are Oriental just recall this rap from the temple of the mental, and how it's true some battler rappers just make it worse, for the verse in the future when we disscourse with Chinese poets and a hobbeyhorse - Dada, momma ain't gonna tell ya, schools and institutions might well warn you but, they won't do what i do, bring you face to face with the highpotaknu lunguadge itself > via Saul williams house.... i feel a sicko sometimes, droppin these rhymes in THE POETS back garden, fragrance of Ginsberg, iceburgs and Ginsing. A taosit kick beat boxer, coded language enhancer and brave black early defense radar system = POET. And all the raps and crap attacks on any sacks of nutrition we bring collectively here, into fruition, is just a distraction. To STOP us building a new language, which i speak and i speak here now, cuz we gotta step up to the plate man we gotta speak now, it's like it's 1938 and Hitlers about to go KAPOW. And how did those germans feel afterwards when they just sat back and watched, or even worse Voted for the holocaust, cuz it was GOOD for business, and it was. War is good for business and there's plenty people in it. Armaments make the BEST investments, this is what they should teach in schools. So, if ya wanna talk about battle raps you better read Mein Kampf, which was criticized in America before the 2nd world war but, the American courts banned the criticism with LAW Banned it. [the criticism, not mein Kampf] Slammed it. So hear me. Big Bizzness, Rockerfeller, Rothschild yes some jew's too, they are all equally responsible for world war two, because > they were investers in the big metal industry, shells, tanks, ships, tanks, bombs, guns, bullets, hummers, the farben works, read about it, before they burn ALL the books, and yet > battle rappers still rhyme like they are workin for George Bush, they rap about torture and killin and disrespect for: the enviroment, women, traditions, religions, their elders, their bruthers of a different pigment, while the real pigment - that's the government create Nazi death camps, and call it WALL mart, run by WALL street. While letters from the new artists get blasted and unpasted from city slum walls, the only words written BOLD in the dark and cold of our social mold, our place as city ZEN, well it's pritty when the letters blaze off the grey concrete, when the spraycan muralists take LAW into their own hands and write their truth, on a roof. Now that's proof that we are comin up, we are comin to write oblivion, the poet obliterates and operates the flood gates to a revolution in language, a new hip hop sandwidge, a nine iron sand wedge to get out of this bunker, this bunk media nightmare, which will pass, when we awake! AWAKE! just hold tight class, cuz i'm gonna blow such a wind out my ass that SHE will hear us on Venus and SHE will not allow the big bizzness to come between us. She will come, she has come... she is hear, she lives inside the dictionary. Please read here
The lights turn hulkgreen, brids silent, the wind hardly present, and yet inside my mind comes a rumble tumble mumble, a bumble fumble mumble rummble, a wild fantasy worse than any autograph seekers tweeker speaker box flosses toss puss slush. A re:birth, but tuff taffy, not so much hush hush Zen, but Az i come back , rwd, re:wind come again. The balance of the force, the twelve tone scale, and the thirteenth cycles, 64 hexagrams turned into idreographic grafitti jams spewed up on the side of aircraft carriers, aircraft made of rice paper and edible cars, invisible electricity and trips to mars, mind warps but for walks not to bring derangement, a focus along with the hocus pokuss, a timespace model for these engagments [i climbed a fence] a played offensive with drum stix, and ego pipes blown like Miles, Like Hunter i'm blown out of cannon kids, and guess what the football season don't mean Shit compared to the squids and their sacks of ink squirts to write secret coded language messages of skirts of flirts, hangin round yurts eating cherry APL yodagurts. I bring deserts from the desert, a dead sea scroll cake, a caskade of electric harmonic tones tingle your backmind zones, memory like memorex tape.....Memory like memorex tape and hear i taught i dainty have to sport spurt on about wildstyle and the Herc, Z, Futura, Wu and P.E. See here peeps know the time, it's just because so....we put down the wine, picked up the rhyme from out the primordial souper eara, applied beatific slang and yin yang to get clearer, full burners of understanding, tigerstyle pervert berted X-cute cuts, ninny Mo wax Ape records, global communications, Rephlex, Mu, Test, Fullcycle, Superseal breaks.....i could go on and on, but i'm out my depth in that department, and some folks round here were missing in 93 when i saw a wise MC change me into LSD witch > led to ecstacy led to Sun Ra and... a new space station Opera! a Knew radio wave, time slime grave rumble thud rumble birth of a booktable tank, me boy FranK Chat, inspred that. But here i see so many Hiphip honest folk i stay off that rope, i mean i might sound dope down a wire but on stage who knows what rage it might take to cage me, if i spoke. i joke. I mean. I would Choke if Mike Ladd upt n' spoke, i might choke i might spoke a likkle tikkle toke, but i have faith and i hope that the forum will provide a new hope so that peacefully at a distance we can offer freestyle assistance to the resistance to bullshit systems. I see em oozing out of mouths everywhere, the IZ of identity, the noun of stoopidity, we are ever changing beings of light, Hell, we are faster than light, the greatest super computer ever, and we get fed CNN weather and National Treasure like it's a freakin Mental Hospital. I am disgusted at the Trivial pursuits of holywood realism kooks who take revolutionary hooks from history, herstory and all sorts of books and then just re:mashsiz em into a gentle Ben story with no gathering of interested people at the end of a movie. Folks to say...hey.....that movie was really true...i wonder who shot JFK? i wonder if 911 really happened? i wonder if Philip K Dick is the most ripped off Science fiction author who died in 1982 before he got to see his blade runner, changed from a title too long obviously...called 'Why androids dream of electric sheep" and well shoot darn it's because they eat sleep and shit androids, TV evangerloyds bunkers and those who imitate, who wear their logo, of their pogo styx products, and neglect that aquaducts and simple huts that could end world famine. TOMORROW if we...the people had OUR money to share, spend, save, give, buy, trade, worship? Instead of having THE BIGGEST crooks in the whole world turn our baco noir reserve into stale sewage oil. They spoil it for all, they being the reality swallowers, thats almost everyone, thats why i'm on the run, away from myself away from the hand that feeds me myself the human caught up in a philosophical cannonhumdrum and shot out into galactic regions...stellar seasons.....and now i come back, to try to reveal the seal calendar thats gonna end the tyrants hold of reality, cuz with these toolz i offer i rekon we can ascend in harmony, without sounding like we are going round the bend in harmony, i feel that and don't squeel like this in public often, and it's cool cuz the tools are often hidden from public view like the work that i do and the work that most here, except an obvious few > here on these boards do du We wrap and ripple truths and they all contradict the violence and rape i see our leaders and Teachers commiting. TRUTH! How can we listen to them any longer? How can we stand it? with a painted paradise at the end of it WITHOUT a painted paradise at the end of it. Me thinks that death is a vibratory translation or phase shift, and life is also a vibratory translation or phase shift, except the two are APART. For a darn good reason, LEFT and right, up down, me and you, in and out, the duality i shout the duality of man and woman. Language this or that, Noun or another Noun. It's sad but thats why we feel small, insignificant just like a statistic, infear eara, afraid that big thunder farther will come spank us if we step out of line, and thats fine, but the lines been cross't, and....i'm lyke the sun rhyz rhymz, melting the morning frost on the playground, the concrete schoolyard with it's hoops, and the science lab and the coat rack and the bogs, and the boiler room, my ramble must be a part of my bramble bush berry delights > To put this in manifesto form would likely scare the livin lights out of folks, i would be taken two seriously i believe, i would be taken as to stoned, to old and too peeved, off with the system, already jaded and frayded by the iron age, cosmic schmuck > but know this.... they are all wrong i have seen the reel Red Woods, the lakes the Mountains > it's true they surround us, but Walt Whitmen iz dead and so is Terrence and so you might find, us, poets flowin blood from nozzles and muzzle puzzles about the path you walk to tie your talk tapes to your super hero capes, made from your Auntie hilda's drapes, them cream uns wid the likkle snakes on em, little DNA patterns, In England they call em Curtians, opened to bring in the sun and closed to watch TV and get dark with Miss Kathode Ray. It's freestyle sun day, i am not antagonized by efforts to stop this flow, onward to element Zero. As the crow flies.