Archive for category Old Notes

Thursday March 2009

‘You know, it all begins with you’ is what I said to my self or what my self said to me this morning. Still trynah figure that one out. But I do know someone is talking to you. Yes, you reading this post.

I took off my shoes and lay with my back upon a rock this morning, facing the sky, hoping that rain would fall on me and wash away some of the stagnancy that’s encased my body. A little rain is all I asked for. With such an overcast, it was bound to happen, but did not. Still I was not upset. Why be angry when I’m capable of stopping what we understand to be time and feeling a heightened sense of living, if only momentarily. Each day has been a quest to learn how to extend these rations of peace. Brief episodes of quiet time. The mind’s chatter is maddening. Many failed attempts at separating from the machine, this ghost sans ability to walk through walls but very easily sees through most people is tired.

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A rhyme inspired by ‘God’s Debris’…

I read a great story some time ago. One of those you can knock it out in one sitting deals. For the open mind I gather it would be quite the enjoyable read. I want to share it with you guys because I know all of your minds are not only open and curious, but always intrigued by new and interesting things.

Read the rhyme. Then click the link in the last line. Awaits you, a pdf file with the story I just mentioned. Enjoy.

chillen and illen, and willen to fly.
i, building wit pilgrim, plus villain spillin duh wine.
fillin in blanks, blanketed talk, chalk walk definitive lines..
sunshine and aqua replenish this unlimited mind
subliminal, crime – lab, line stab’em in eye
show’em the point, point blank mey siah arrive in the sky
i turn pages, rip stages, navigate life’s mazes…
at the same time ‘wondering why’?
what does it all mean, he fabricated a dream involving a spleen
and irene cryin over some cream
these sheep asleep, get herded 2day
she just missed the beast nourished by curds and some way…
marketed by the beast but that’s awful cliche…
thumb out and about hitchikin, a dj
serato to scratch, soundwaves over digital wax
poetic with vets, the religion war is over,
an avatar never forgets, dem properties of we
minuscule pieces of god’s debris

Drop me a line after you’ve read it and share your thoughts about it.

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4 Thee Luvlee iyaDedE – The topic of the SUN… Rising With

Twittering this morning and having a communication with a great artist (iyaDedE) about rising with the sun, i thought it would be a good idea to post something new from my old notes. Check these two pieces out. Enjoy!

before the sun rose…
Monday December 2007

before the sun rose on the eve of the holiday that i do not celebrate, i found myself outside, engaged by the moon’s luminescence… 180 degrees, then turned to witness moments before, a new day on its way. silence. the the fading line of horizon, blending the now with yesterday… the north start sparkled, knowing its part in this godly production… an awesome display of subtle magnitude, quiet emotion, stillness and patience as if the earth were meditating… before opening its next chapter…

… the sun
Tuesday November 2006

The sun would be my inspiration during my time here. It is a more then powerful forgotten technology with the capability to heal and resolve all.

I found strength in my brothers, though not of blood relation. We held a bond through universal truth. How we located one another is another story within itself. We’ll eventually get to that but for now I must record the details of my current feelings.

As if heaven were on earth, a blanket of warm undisturbed peace covered i during my session absorbing the sun’s rays. For some time I’d been ‘refueling’ as I would ultimately come to label this experience. As children we’d been warned of the dangers of staring into the sun, similar to the myth of staring into the television set. These actions were to surely weaken your vision if not blind you, but its obvious these ideas held no truth. I can see, and quite well mind you. Call me the man with x ray eyes, only I learned to control them unlike that poor fellow in the old black and white sci-fi thriller. Never would I pluck mine own eyes from their sockets.

One final post i think you may enjoy from a blog i really dig.

My Formula For A Productive Day

I went to sleep at a reasonable hour, so I woke up before the sun rose and feel pretty good as I’m writing this post today. It’s the first full work week of the new year and I’ve set my sights high on productivity and vibrating a peaceful energy. Read More…


Tell me about your sun? Please. Leave a comment. i love the attention…!

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6 Feet Over

Tuesday September 2008

When I was a kid, to be six feet was the goal. As an adult six feet ain’t that tall, at least sometimes it’s not. I’ve seen men of 5’5 that were mountains, while those that were a whole foot taller were mere hills with not so much incline. Daily my height changes. I’d like to be consistently tall. I’m working on that.

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Old Notes: Diggin In My Web Crate

I’ve been blogging since 2005. Before that it was a whole lot of message board business and chat rooms if we go even further back. Every once and a while I stumble upon old music I uploaded online to some forgotten artist music site that could never compete with the rest of the dot com’s. Today I’m creating this new section on the site called, ‘Old Notes’. It will consist of content from previous post from my early blogger life. Photos, poems, rhymes, short stories… etc. I hope you enjoy.

September 1st 2007

Independent thinking these days seems rare, but I insist that it does in fact exist.

From out of the corners of my thoughts scattered, attempting to make sense of low scoring basketball games, newly installed slum doors with working intercoms pried offah hinges and that button near some intersections that is supposed to make the light change for every guinea pig pedestrian that expels the necessary energy to press it; I find balance.

Unfortunately, finding the meaning of life isn’t as simple as brandishing a miniature Mag-lite and rummaging through cobwebbed storage bins in a dark attic. I didn’t grow up in a house. But my mother did. Even still she didn’t learn the meaning by that method either.

If you stop to watch the low flying aircraft in awe, or walk slower when the rain begins to pour. You may be close to or already know the answer to the age old question of ‘What does it all mean?’ When I say this I think of the chorus of the De La Soul song Three is a Magic Number, which ends with Prince Paul scratching in those same five words. The O’Jays sang that there was a message in the music. Kenneth Gamble wrote: ‘In this day of confusion, we must find the root of the problem in order to solve it. The problem is a lack of truth and communication between man and woman. Therefore, the wrong interpretation of life and life’s purpose has been exposed…’

I purchased a record player some time ago partially because I’m a producer that does, let’s say, ‘musical research’ and also because I realized that my little sisters never experienced what it is to hear the sounds of music lifted from vinyl by a needle then tossed into a receiver and right back out through speakers to ultimately, end up dancing in your ears. I figured, perhaps in doing this I’d help them add pieces to the puzzle of this life’s game. So, in the future when they’ve grown older and left the hands of parents and guardians, they won’t be caught trying to fit all those pieces they’ve collected over time in with a hammer.

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