Dancer

Thank you Don, for the words (Culture)

A New Rise

Its nice to sleep in another bed
Dreamless nights reshuffled again
Spilled wine on the sheets
My neck, where the hot air speaks.

Lights left on
My right eye wrong
twitching to the beat
Blink to pass out, exhausted
After this song
When their feet starting sweeping
And the whole crowd has to play a long

So that's why you dance
Gives you the chance to be an embarrassment
To find freckles in my hair ,glance 
In a chair in my cross legged stance
Waiting for friends
Outside smoking again.

Level three
Lets take it to the Fourth floor
No room in the city outdoors.
Filled the night with smoke
Three stops
Just enough to catch a new rise
Lets float on
And become modest
Help out a fellow
white burns to yellow
And hello isn't enough
Tongues move smooth
When the vibe is mellow.

Hold your breath
Shift over the linoleum
Stairway under us
Moonlight over the metal bus
Shuttle first and layover rust
Walk in, hand in hand
Hold a balance
Try hard but the support is not far.
And just like my birthday, no presents
But the challenge and the present.

Finally Art

Over the last three years I have been apprehensive to post Art here.  I've done it a few times if I had other attachments to go with them such as poetry usually.  I've been looking around for a proper site that was properly free but I came close.

http://eganclick.imgur.com/

Heard you Calling

#1

Hey I heard you calling from over there.  I was just staring at where the blues diminish the grays and the mountains are different shades of peas.  No no I thought I heard your voice but maybe I was mistaken.  There are so many different bird whistles, from the Cardinals to the Blue Jays, to the Ducks and the Snow Fouls.  It was to early in the morning to actually see you.  Only the noises could be distinguished from the monotony of darkness.  Did you not say something from behind that oak tree between the two bushes that produced those thorns.  The one’s that have dug into my skin from before.  The kind that can get stuck into your skin and dig, crawl in between places you didn’t know you had, extra storage, the fleshiest pieces of skin.  Can’t you just come back out and tell me your question.  Was it how old am I?  Or how bold was the Mayans?  I could only pick up the syllables between the whirring of the leaves, the peddling of the creek, the wind just under the horizon.  Only the murmur could come in contact with my ears under my knitted hat, and I was a little uncomfortable at the time too.  But then when I say that orange, blood clotted circle appear, the wisps started to scatter, you know the whispers, and the dew driven gnats passed over the horizon, slowly lifting above our atmosphere, passing into unilateral time, never to be, only, seen again.
***
I saw the words on the other side of the stars.  People usually say stars twinkle but their light remains constant, as an object, and if they are transforming slowly, fading and awning, that means they are only passively entering death.  Stars have options before they die like words have many ways to be interpreted.  Each second I stare, the wind passed over the clouds, usually pearl white, now hardly distinguishable between the midnight purple of space and the blackness of the clouds.  It’s as if the words on a page were being wrapped underneath the spacing between lines, were missed between the message of a sentence, the massage of senses.  It never truly made any remarks, no remembrance of my past, no insight on the future.  Just letters illuminated under my own two flashlight eyes.  Letters I have never seen before, only touched with my hands, only smelt being spoken from chapped lips, from a parched mouth and a salivating tooth.  I thought I saw it again, even when I stare at the same spot, just north of Orion’s belt, after every blink, looking until the dirty particles project into my thin veiled plasma obstructing my lenses.

The Equation

I've been writing a new album and also been working on the music too.

Here is what I have so far.

http://staticparticles.bandcamp.com/track/pews-through-loopholes

http://staticparticles.bandcamp.com/track/316

http://staticparticles.bandcamp.com/track/future-ghost

http://staticparticles.bandcamp.com/track/two-for-one-beat

http://staticparticles.bandcamp.com/track/just-look-back

Update:  It's an EP and that's it.  If you get a cd from me there will be an intro track called Drum Core.

Don't Steal My Thunder

Chapter One:  I was born with it

So, yeah, I was born.  I've been born for twenty two years.  I'm sure you know if you have been following but who has the time.  I don't even have enough time to reflect.  Maybe I can find a few moments to retell you moments from my life.  I can't always hide behind these black shirts and black pants with black shoes.  It used to be hair .
Long brown curly hair would cover my face.  I had it long since the 6th grade. Not much upkeep, it would just form by itself.  It started because I wanted it.  I didn't really know if long hair was cool or not but by all means, it definitely was on me.  My hair didn't let it grow out into a bowl cut.  The curls would flow down my face onto my shoulders like a women's.  At work I would mistakenly be called a girl from customers because of it.  It was pretty cool.
It would grow and grow and I would hardly notice.  Teenagers spend all their time looking into mirrors to pop pimples and fix their split ends.  I didn't.  I had my own shield, a mask that served me many functions.  Kept the sunlight out of my eyes which helped me nap in class.  Long, thick hair to look through so I could cheat on chemistry tests. But the more I used it, the more it started to identify me.