Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Both Sides Dog

Expressing the vast difference in the ideology of love from a younger and older prospective creates a void which Joni Mitchell utilizes a conflicting tone, and celestial imagery to leave the audience filling in the blanks that she created with her story told in the song Both Sides Now.
Joni Mitchell uses very creative words to portray a scene of what love was like in her childhood comparing it to “ ice cream castles in the air feather canyons everywhere” which most listeners could easily depict in their head. Creating a visual world in which she has seen love from both sides, Joni is able to convince the listener that love is a crazy circus as a youngster, but as you grow old, love becomes a confusing circus with emotions all over the place, she is able to make the listener see what she saw as a child, and feel what she felt as an adult.
The tone throughout this song appears to be overall good, a happy tone, but it is much more than it appears, the tone shifts from reminiscent to hopeful to confused. This song shifts all over the place because it sucks, it is a bad song and we should be able to chose the song that you force us to write about. The conflicting tone allows Mitchell to show love from both sides of it, whether good or bad, she shows both, and both are easy to depict because “ I really don’t know clouds at all… I really don’t know love at all” Clouds are a big symbol in this song, probably because she looks up to clouds, and she looks up to love, even though it confuses her.
I cannot relate to this song because i'm aware that love is a dangerous game and i don't like to play it because there is too much to lose, not just the feeling but the happiness that you engulf yourself in because of it. I've looked at both sides of love, but it wasn't as confusing as Joni tries to make it seem, but hey, everyone's different. I really can’t relate to a song just because you chose it for us. once again we should chose our own songs to distill and analyze, because the results would be a lot better if everyone was on their own boat, but those boats would be a fleet heading in the right direction.

Friday, January 23, 2015

Modestly Proposing

         Oppression is a problem, a huge problem. It's always caused by scoundrels who claim superiority, but in reality, that makes you in-superior  to anything and everything. thinking your life is more important than someone else's is highly unacceptable and something must be done, we must work to create an environment in which people want to live, not fear because they have someone who makes their days hell. There is no reason to allow such a disastrous ideology, so we should just remove the problem rather than act like it isn't there.We must act, not like we already act, getting embarrassed by the actions of those who dwell in greed and hatred. Violently removing them is the only way to be acting like; So I've devised a plan. a concentration camp similar to those run by Nazi Germany, but not to eliminate a certain race, because scumbags come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. So my plan? to set up a camp, a camp for the undesirables in society to work to gain back their worth, or to be killed. The ball will be in their court. They have control over life or death based on how they act under constant surveillance and imprisonment, so here's how we do it.
     Invite them to a wonderful vacation which they've always wanted, of course we're going to have to do some research on these people, but it's worth it to create a better America. The Camp will welcome them, make them think its fun, send them colorful brochures with a voucher for an all expense paid trip to the persons dream vacation place. All airliners will be alerted of whats about to happen, in fact they will assist, once the undesirables give up their luggage to be put on the plane, that's it, its gone, all of their belongings are shredded, then incinerated. Seat the undesirables in first class, feed them, give them drinks, let them enjoy their last bit of undeserved freedom so we can remain somewhat human, even guys on death row get a last meal. During their pampering, the stuartess and pilot will fake the need for a crash landing due to engine failure. the stuartess will then announce that there are only a number of parachutes, so they're at a first come first serve deal. Obviously those who value their lives more than others are going to jump up and grab a chute, that's on top of the people who were actually invited.  The plane will be above the Hopi Reservation in Arizona at this point, and the undesirables will jump to "safety" on the ground.
     Those who actually survive the sky dive, will be stuck out in a desert, with nothing going on, no food no water, there are cacti though, but fake ones with motion sensors and cameras so we can watch the undesirables struggle to survive in the desert. After two days of no food or water, we send in our trucks, big box trucks equipped with off road tires and a water tank in the back, and decked out with "American Red Cross" stickers so they believe they're going to be okay. Once all of them have been gathered the trucks go to the Camp. When the truck arrives the armed guards at the gate open it and allow them in then shut it tight behind and get back to their places. The trucks then back up to the warehouse and the door opens. The ware house is pitch black and so is the back of the truck, The undesirables are then herded into the warehouse like sheep. Nothing in the warehouse but concerned squirming bodies, Once the doors have been shut, a light appears in the far end of the warehouse, one that looks like a door for these people to get to, but sadly they are mistaken, they are about to be drugged,
        Succinycholine will be blown into the warehouse leaving everyone paralyzed, unable to move or speak or in a bad case breathe, some will die here depending on how strong they are because Succinycholine is strong enough to take out a moose. They will then wake up naked lined up with a bag of camp issued clothes around their necks, so when they awoke they could dress themselves. Those who wake up and try to rebel will be shot by one of the 20 guard in the warehouse, who will set an example for the rest of them. Once they've calmed down and realize there's no hope, they will be brought into the orientation room where they'll be told why they're here.
           After orientation they will be forced to go through a room of mirrors and trap doors and all sorts of crazy obstacles, and those who make it to the end will arrive at the sweat shop where they are forced to make designer clothes which we will sell to support the camp, or just be killed for refusal to work. but there is still hope, they can regain their worth, but how efficient they do their work. it'll be years but they still have a chance.
         Since we realize this will take a lot of time to set up, we have an alternative plan, its a cargo ship. the control room is cemented shut, and its anchored in the center of the Atlantic ocean so there is no chance of swimming, and to ensure that, everyone has a choice of what limb they have removed. everyone will be de-limbed and forced to adapt with each other. everyone will become a happy family with no limbs, they can establish their own hierarchy, and no one will be able to leave because its gonna be very hard to swim with a missing limb.
    They wont be left to die though, we will send in a helicopter to drop food every week or so, but that's it, they're on their own to establish they're own boat land. Freedom, and everyone else is happy because they're gone and will never come back, ever. Problem solved, right?

Wednesday, January 21, 2015


Winters End (one act play)

On a late winter night in Nebraska on a snowy sidewalk in a small town there stands a man bundled up  enough to keep an ice cube hot. he looks around the streets watching the one street light in town slowly fade from yellow to darkness. not a sound in the air or a disturbance in the cosmos of this quiet Nebraskan town. everything was peaceful and majestic and the wind chill was freezing snow to windows on contact.

Man: (looking at his reflection in the window of an abandoned store with bare mannequins and broken glass faded behind his own figure) hey, you’re gunna be just fine. everything is okay. (he looks himself in the eye, he sees what he hates, he sees what he was, he sees what he can never be. moments pass and the stare down proceeds in a obsessive fashion, he wont give up, as if to say he was hosting a staring contest with himself.)

Man: (whispering then gradually increasing the volume and meaning of each word) stop it, stop it, stop it.. YOU ARE NOTHING, YOU NEVER WERE AND YOU NEVER F-CKING WILL BE. YOU ARE A COWARD. YOU ARE NOT FEARLESS. YOU ARE NOTHING. YOU ARE F-CKING NOTHING. (as tears stream down his unsure face, he puts his hands on the window and begins smashing it with his forehead)

Man: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA (slamming his face into window)  YOU (slams face into window again and he sees a crack forming) DESERVE (smashes his head in the same spot because there was something fascinating about watching the glass spider before his eyes) THIS (as he slams against the window once more then the man proceeds to wipe his face and looks at his palm seeing his own blood on his hand)

Man: (vigorously pacing the sidewalk along the now spidered store window) All theses years. ALL OF THESE F-CKING YEARS, FOR NOTHING. (he unzips his coat and throws it into the road, followed by his sweater and then his t-shirt) ITS NOT COLD. ITS NOT COLD OUT HERE. F-CK THE SUN. F-CK THE MOON. F-CK EVERYTHING MAN. (taking off his shoes he chuckles to himself) ahahah I worked for these shoes.. I wasted my life for these shoes, and these pants, and these socks. HAHAHAHAHAAHAH (staring at every article of clothing he had on earlier in the evening dispersed across the snowy street and sidewalk)

Man: (reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a cigar and lights and sparks it he tossed the lighter and puffed the cigar a few times) I'm gunna miss these things.. (he steps away from the window to get a running start it) I'm gunna miss these for sure. (he runs and jumps into the window and crashes through it and lands on broken glass, not only the glass he had just broken, but glass that was previously broken, the momentum of his head into the window caused him to lose consciousness naked and cuddling with shards of glass and a burning cigar just inches from of his hand.)

hours go by, and he remains in the unconscious state of mind he brought himself to.

Man: (waking up on the ground cold and in pain he looks around and sees what he did) F-CK, F-CK, F-CK, F-CK. WHY AM I HERE, THIS SHOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED.. (he grabs a shard of glass and puts it to his wrist and presses down on his vein and began lacerating the skin. he begins screaming) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH


Female Voice: Steven? are you okay in there?

Man: (looks up to see a broken mirror in a small bathroom with a shower that had no curtain. he looks down into the sink and sees his blood dripping into the sink from his hand he drops the broken mirror shard and stares at the broken reflection of himself) (confused) yeah I'm fine

Female Voice: I’m coming in (the door knob turns slightly) (”Steve” grabs the knob preventing the woman to fully turn the knob) STEVEN! OPEN THIS DOOR!

Man: (leaning against the door) f-ck off Janice. I'm taking a sh-t.

Janice: if you’re on the toilet, how are you holding the door shut?

Steve: I'M STRETCHING (he starts grunting and acting as if he were really stretching)
(in the distance behind the door you hear Janices' voice shouting) HELP! STEVEN IS HAVING ANOTHER EPISODE

Janice: right this way, hes in the bathroom

Mans Voice: (a very deep intimidating voice) I’m going to give you one chance to open this damn door Steven.

(Steven began wrapping his gash in his hospital issued white tee)

Mans Voice: I’m giving you to the count of three..

Mans Voice: One…… Two……..

Steve: (takes a step back and waits for the door to open on three)

Mans Voice: THREE!

as a large black nurse man comes in with Janice behind him, Steve bolts toward the door. he slips just out of the reach of the large nurse, and was about to pass Janice but she was ready with a needle, she stuck him in the arm as he ran through her on his way out of the room which connected to the bathroom he had harmed himself in.

Mans Voice:SH-T. GET HIM

Janice:Chill out, I stuck him with the tranquilizer.

Mans Voice: CHILL OUT? do you remember the last time he got “tranquilized?” I certainly know I don't forget seeing him stab Mikey at the main desk to make his way out of this wing of the ward. I also don't forget watching him climb the wall up to the roof then jumping off making a nice distance between him and his room.
Janice: But that was last year, i used a stronger dosage for him, he’ll be out in a minute

by this time Steve had made his way more than halfway down the hall to the entrance of the wing he currently resides in. a swarm of nurses and staff members behind him in terror because they knew what he was capable of. Steve made his way to the desk where he had once stabbed a staff member for his scan card to get out, but this time there was no staff member, just a desk. Steve hopped behind the desk and searched it for something.. anything.

Steve: Now all of you back the f-ck up.

the crowd got closer


Janice: Just wait, he's going to be out any minute now.

the staff reluctantly followed her order, and they just watched him watch them.

hours pass and Steve stays standing behind this desk having a stare-down with a staff of angry nurses and occasionally glancing down at the now red shirt on his wrist. Steve then fell against the wall with his fists raised, then losing conciousness

He wakes up to find himself strapped to a bed looking at a bright light

Steve:(screaming) WHERE THE F-CK AM I??

you can hear the door to the small room unlock, then the light goes out and you see the silhouette of a rather small man.

Steve: Doctor, whats going on? Where am i? Back away from me. I'LL KILL YOU

Doctor: Shhhhhhhh (he says as he places a damp rag over Steve's mouth causing him to slowly lose consciousness)

End Act I

Carl Cardigan (slam poetry)
No no, I don't have time for this.
I could be asleep.
Not here, not now, not ever
time for bed, not even clever
tho it is 8 am, i can sleep
I could, not can, I will because I am
Sleep is a necessity
Sleep is the best for me
But school is real, it awakens me endlessly
Consciousness is no friend to me
Rather, he is the enemy
Approaching faster than a seven foot centipede 
Lemon-aid with the lemon breeze
Drinking under cherry trees
Smelly knees, stinging bees
I janitor who holds the keys
not many only four
maybe five
only using one at a time
So why is there no seconds for me
When I have minutes to turn the keys
In stead of in my bed, catching z's
I lack one of the human needs
not one but many, nights and mornings I wake up empty. 
Just wishing there was something that kept me
In a slumber
But no, I'm here awake, and it is a bummer
only got 6 months left for an endless summer.
Endless? no maybe not
Except on the nights you were smoking pot
Saturating in perfume in hopes you don't get caught
But that's a lot of hope
Too much hope that it'd be inconceivable to cope
With the fact your ma's against the dope
But that's alright
You pass the night with a doob to light
Stay high to ignore the fight
Stay out of sight.
You can't be seen
Constantly running, you're hidden machine 
So wait for your sleep
And run from life
Losing z's is a sacrifice
One i think of when I'm in the casino shooting dice
Not once, I shoot it twice 
Devouring your genes, the ones i splice. 
Split up like a nuclear reaction 
As if to say it was an excessive action 
From the leader of my faction
No time for your numbers like subtraction
The math is complete
As is the game
I don't have anything
Not even a name
just a skull with an unstable brain
one stricken with pain
and driven insane
like al-qhada flying a plane
into the twin towers membrane

Angrrrrrrrrry Letter (angry letter)
Inmate #18765,
        I applaud you from a distance. I formally congratulate you on your remarkable ability to destroy more lives than you're capable of creating. I once looked up to you, both figuratively and physically, but not anymore. It's been made abundantly clear that you've withered in size from the amount of hatred you've had thrown out of your system to spew down your roots and into the foundation you've constructed. and figuratively speaking, to look up to you would idiotic to say politely, for the only thing even remotely admirable you've ever accomplished in your life was living as long as you have. It's truly amazing no one has beaten you until your heart stopped pumping your worthless blood through your methamphetamine fiending body, strewn with supposedly meaningful tattoos with dates of which you cannot fathom a meaning. Those dates mean nothing to you. You've taken away the meaning of those dates to me as well, you've taken more from me than you've given me, and that fact is repulsive. I never learned anything from you, I've just seen mistakes you've made and I was able to determine that no matter what happens in life, I can never be anything close to whatever you may consider yourself to be. I will never follow in your aimless footsteps that wander purposelessly away from anything that supposedly meant something to you. I walk my own path, and wear my own shoes, these shoes are mine and you had nothing to do with it, besides the fact that I needed my own because you can only wear state issued ones, that even if i wanted you'd still deny me. You wear your shoes in a cell that I hope consumes your soul, I hope it devours you from the feet up, alive you sit there feeling it eat you bite by bite, limiting you worthless body mass to just about nothing but bloody scraps of a once desired father figure. Those scraps should then be placed in a fire, a fire that I will urinate on in order to ensure that it is extinguished. then I will stomp out your chard cremains on the floor. Then on my walk back I'd look at the black foot prints left behind from my size 14 vans and smile with honor like a savage Ronin. 
                         -the offspring 

Wednesday, January 14, 2015


       While walking through his home town of WakaWakaWaka Ezekiel saw the library which he used to spend his school nights at, and decided to stop in for a visit. It was just as he remembered, it still had the broken door with the curious stains on it which opened to a cluttered desk that the librarian would sit at, but on this day, Ezekiels favorite librarian was not there, there was some barbaric man with disgusting glasses and a few spots on his face that he missed while shaving. because of his facial hair or lack there of, Ezekiel walked in and said "hey patches where is janice? she was the librarian here for a whi-" but he was interrupted by Patches saying "ohhhh really? She was the librarian? i had no clue that my mother was the librarian here."
Ezekiel replied with a smug tone "Well its a damn shame she let such a rude man squeeze his way out of her lady parts" Patches smiled and said "she had a c-section, ahaha"
"well, that's good, I needed to know that, no wonder she isn't here anymore, she didn't want to spend time with you anymore" patches then viciously stated "actually she died, shes dead, Janice died."
Ezekiel was saddened by that statement, and offered a form of apology " oh, oh man I'm sorry, but your still a rude man and well, I'm sorry about your mom patches it j-" Patches was displeased and raised his voice to say " you listen up real good right now, okay? I don't know where you got the idea that it was okay to give me a cute little nickname or act like you know my mommy, because you don't, shes my mommy not yours and she didn't even like you, i remember her saying that she hated that kid how spent his afternoons here, yeah you, your just a stupid little  man with a stupid nose and forehead, and no one reads books anymore so why are you here? Just leave get out of my library."
This statement enraged Ezekiel, because he actually had a romantic encounter with her one of those day in the library and never spoke of it because she was old then, like grandma old, and he did it, he wasn't proud of it, but he knew that patches was lying because of it, also patches didn't even know his name so there was no way that Janice talked badly about him. Then the thought came to his head, "this man, patches, has no idea that I had sex with his mother, there's no way he knows it might may be time he finds out"
He decided to speak, "okay patches you know what, your mom loved me, She really loved me, you know how i know? this one time i was sitting down doing my homework, right there at that table,then she came over to me and leaned on my shoulder and whispered 'come with m-"
"WOAHWOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH" said a very distant voice, well aged and feminine. Ezekiel looked over and saw an old lady hobbling over with her walker. "Janice?" he asked?
"yes it's me." she said. then Ezekiel looked at the patches then back to Janice, "is that your son?"
"are you aware that he's a d**k?"
"yes, i raised him that way, but you cant tell him what you were about to tell him because well" she pulled him in closer to her and said "hes your son"
Ezekiel thought, and thought, and thought, then said " but he's older than me, and that isnt possible"
Janice stood for a minute and pondered. "oh yeah, I've been looking for his father for a while"
then Ezekiel said "so you just accuse random men of being the father of this man? how many of us where there?"
Janice then said "what year is it?"
Patches then said "mom, what is happening. im scared"
then Ezekiel pulled out an air horn and pressed it down which lead to the question "do you just carry that around?"
"well" said Ezekiel "I'm leaving"
as the door closed behind him on his way out patches looked at his mother and she looked back at him,then Janice said "we'll get you a dad one day"

Friday, December 5, 2014

carl sweater

no no, i don't have time for this.
i could be asleep.
not here, not now, not ever
time for bed
tho it is 8 am, i can sleep
i could, not can
sleep is a necessity
sleep is the best for me
but school is real so it awakens me endlessly
consciousness is no friend to me
rather, he is the enemy
approaching faster than a seven foot centipede 
lemon-aid with the lemon breeze
drink it up under cherry trees
smelly knees, stinging bees
i am the janitor
i hold the keys
not many only four
maybe five
only one can be used at a time
so why is there no time for me
when i have time to turn the keys
in stead of in my bed catching z's
i lack one of the human needs
not one but many, nights and morning i wake up empty. 
just wishing there was something that kept me
in a slumber
but no, im here awake, and its a bummer
only got 6 months left for an endless summer.
endless? no maybe not
except on the nights you were smoking pot
saturating in perfume in hopes you dont get caught
but thats a lot of hope
too much hope that it'd be inconceiveable to cope
with the fact your moms against the dope
but thats alright
you pass the night with a doob to light
stay high to ignore the fight
stay out of sight. 
so wait for your sleep
and run from life
losing z's is a sacrafice
one i think of when im in the casino shooting dice
not once, i shoot it twice 
devouring your genes, the ones i splice. 
split up like a nuclear reaction 
as if to say it was an excessive action 
from the leader of my faction
time to remove numbers like subtraction
the math is over
as is the game
i dont have anything
not even a name
just a skull with an un stable brain
one stricken with pain
and driven insane
like al-qhada flying a plane
into the twin towers membrane

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Poetry Post

3 Steparoni

day by day
step by step
constantly drowning
in troublesome regrets
the worst days of your life
the ones you'll never forget
re-live them every hour
every minute, every second
day by day
step by step
learning to live with hefty regrets

i enjoy the repetition but the spacing is not what i want it to be. i want it to be taller and thinner, more dramatic pauses to get the point across. nah mean? some words have to be spiced up as well

day by day
step by step
constant suffocation
in troublesome regrets
the worst days
in your life
the ones you will
never forget
re-live them every hour
every minute, every second
day by day
step by step
learning to live with hefty regrets
depressed day by day nonetheless

it needs some work i believe. what work im not too sure but something, the last line added kinda hooked it up a little bit but it was the hook line and sinker ya boy was looking for. suffocating is a bit worse than drowning i would imagine. 

day by day
step by step
constant suffocation
in troublesome regrets
the worst days
in your life
the ones you will
never forget
re-living them every hour
every minute, every second
day by day
step by step
learning to live,
with hefty regrets
day by day
taking it in
step by step

that last bit of repetition was what i felt this needed. and breaking down the last two lines did something nice as well. and i changed lived from living to express the presence of the feeling that everyone has in them somewhere.

Rime Royal
1 stanza, 7 10 syllable lines

Waking up in a world of solitude
sleeping away endless nights of sorrow
constantly avoiding the worthless feuds
the happiness of others borrowed
without pride, this pill is simply swallowed
in this dark world I am slowly fading
lifeless in water, no longer wading.