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December 22, 2008

Merry Christmas ALL!!

You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch by Dr. Seuss

You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch. You really are a heel.
You're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel. Mr. Grinch.

You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel.

You're a monster, Mr. Grinch. Your heart's an empty hole.
Your brain is full of spiders, you've got garlic in your soul. Mr. Grinch.

I wouldn't touch you, with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole.

You're a vile one, Mr. Grinch. You have termites in your smile.
You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile. Mr. Grinch.

Given the choice between the two of you I'd take the seasick crocodile.

You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch. You're a nasty, wasty skunk.
Your heart is full of unwashed socks. Your soul is full of gunk. Mr. Grinch.

The three words that best describe you are, and I quote: "Stink. Stank. Stunk."

You're a rotter, Mr. Grinch. You're the king of sinful sots.
Your heart's a dead tomato splot with moldy purple spots, Mr. Grinch.

Your soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable; mangled up in tangled up knots.

You nauseate me, Mr. Grinch. With a nauseaus super-naus.
You're a crooked jerky jockey and you drive a crooked horse. Mr. Grinch.

You're a three-decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich with arsenic sauce.

Posted by i220 at 09:30 AM | Comments (0)

September 22, 2008

Poetry by: Guisi Girl

What's worth the fight?

of battered lovers left high and dry
in past lives lived once near and far
of twisted love so broken and torn
that once was new and fresh when born

of hopeless ties that never cease
we keep them tied so tight, so near
becoming hatred, an empty room
while marching forward towards our doom

of lying whores who kiss, don't tell
and have you locked up in their spell
of manic ways, and panicked states
it's you who seems to choose this fate

of misery bound close to you
of something that was never true
of lustful, carnage tasty ways
accomplice to your own decay

what's worth it when you plan your day
what's worth the fight to make you stay?
cuz you keep on making same mistakes
and there's only so much a girl can take...

For More entries by Guisi, check: http://sipondreams.blogspot.com/

Posted by i220 at 06:22 AM | Comments (3)

September 08, 2008

Lyric by: Matthew

$ Grubbin' Whore

I'm a money grubbin' whore.

Her 6-6-6 jobs ain't cuttin' the mustard.
Sh' feelin' flustered,
And just one piece of the custard pie ain't feed that high.
But she try -- suspendin' disbelief.
Oh she try -- makin' out like a master thief,
An' she get what she get never what she lookin' for.

She's a money grubbin' whore.
She want more. Give her more.
She's a money grubbin' whore.
She want more. Give her more.
She's a money grubbin' whore.

He's so afraid that he's a failure --
Got a tailor made suit, 2.2 kids, one wife and half a life.
But he try in a '5 point oh' platinum ride.
Oh he try -- Gotta piece a pussy on the side,
An' he get what he get but he never can get no more.

He's a money grubbin' whore.
He want more. Give him more.
He's a money grubbin' whore.
He want more. Give him more.
He's a money grubbin' whore.

My 6-6-6 gigs ain't cuttin' the mustard.
It's lost its lustre,
And one more piece of the custard pie just passed me by.
But I try -- bought into master plan.
Oh I try -- sold my soul to Mr. Record Man,
An' I get what I get but I'll never be nothin' but poor.

I'm a money grubbin' whore.
I want more. Give me more.
I'm a money grubbin' whore.
I want more. Give me more.
I'm a money grubbin' whore.
I want more. Give me more...

Copyright: Matthew Wilson, 2008. From the forthcoming album tentatively titled "G[o]od". Lyrics subject to change.

Posted by i220 at 07:46 AM | Comments (0)

August 25, 2008

Lyric by: i220

Still Untitled - A WIP From The Upcoming Album Tentatively Titled S.A.L.A.G.I.A. by i220 & Speak Lexia

I feel you,
Rippling under my skin.
You: dripping,
And gripping my senses.
I'm senseless --
Completely defenseless.
But, what else should I do?
I wish I could do better,
Than sending this letter to...

Dear Sarah,
I hope this note finds you better than me.
Can't stop sweating -- getting tired of fighting this.
The simple things just don't interest and,
This blue haze that's settled over me is stifling;
A trifle too complicated for your's truly, I guess.

Please respond. This is the seventh correspondence for me.
Can't stop thinking -- tinkering with these numbers.
I've lost sight of what it is to feel -- to care.
Your hair haunts me. It's daunting -- all so unreal.
I don't even like apples but I can't resist.

Maybe if I read, I'd know a better way.
At 1:13 today, I looked over the papers.
It all seems so perfect but for who?
You? Me? All of the supposed innocents?
I doubt it. Lamenting that seems senseless.

Madness! It burns through my temples.
I have ample but you deny me mine.
Give me a sign -- something to chase this night.
I can't escape this undelightful plight of,
Self-destruction, reconstruction and repeat.

So, it would seem that we're doomed to mate.
This fornication could turn the nation back.
Adulterous sultry sluts burning the cross --
It's perversion -- a diversion to come across.
But the weak will topple the strong.
Our loss.

Posted by i220 at 07:41 AM | Comments (0)

August 10, 2008

Lyric by Matthew: 2:20

Bad religion from green to red.
Nothing ventured -- nothing said.
Usher sheep through the gate.
Drop a penny on a golden plate.
Breedin' a mutual hate.

Stolen verses from a broken book.
Mother Superior with a guilty look.
Noah's Ark in a sea of trust.
Scattered faith rising from the dust.
Creatin' a visual lust.

La la la la la la la la...
I don't want to understand.

Salvation on a credit card.
Economic heroes never worked so hard.
30 silver pieces is all it takes to ensure maturation in your heavenly stakes --
Avoidin' the fiery lakes.

La la la la la la la la...
I don't need to hear the truth.

Copyright: Matthew Wilson, 2008. From the forthcoming album tentatively titled "G[o]od". Lyrics subject to change.

Posted by i220 at 10:13 PM | Comments (2)

July 28, 2008

Lyric by: i220

Still Untitled - A WIP From The Upcoming Album Tentatively Titled S.A.L.A.G.I.A. by i220 & Speak Lexia

I've got this deep dark feelin' in my chest.
Cardiac arrest -- not keepin' the best.
Dressed up for the occasion, but I know I'm unblessed.
A guest appearance doesn't appear to test.
Look west -- day sets. All bets impressed,
But it's sneakin' up on me. Sneakin' up...

This world's got me runnin', runnin',
Runnin'. It just ain't no -- just ain't no,
Fun -- gunnin', gunnin', gunnin'.
I've got to go -- got to go...

Can't be bothered to sign your petition.
Your mission: wishin' -- volition.
I've invented an easier way.
The 'Belphagor' stays sharp under any condition.
Competition: fierce. My position: serious.

This world's got me runnin', runnin',
Runnin'. It just ain't no -- just ain't no,
Fun -- gunnin', gunnin', gunnin'.
I've got to go -- got to go...

Does any of this require walkin'?
Talkin'? Lockin' the door?
What's more, I hear opportunity knockin'.
More for less -- no balkin'.

Creepin' sadness is... sad.
Bad, bad lad, see our Dad.
He's mad as mad!

My world's got me crawlin', crawlin',
Crawlin'. 'Sjust what I -- just what I,
Saw -- fallin', fallin', fallin'.
I can't go -- can't go...

Pass the 'Prozac' please.
Quakin' knees --

Goat of society -- joyless -- uneasy...

This world's got me runnin', runnin',
Runnin'. It just ain't no -- just ain't no,
Fun -- gunnin', gunnin', gunnin'.
I've got to go -- got to go,
Runnin', runnin',
Runnin'. It just ain't no -- just ain't no,
Fun -- gunnin', gunnin', gunnin'.
I've got to go -- got to go down.

Posted by i220 at 08:06 AM | Comments (1)

July 21, 2008

Lyrics: Old Man - Neil Young

Old man look at my life,
I'm a lot like you were.

Lullabies, look in your eyes.
Run around the same old town.
Doesn't mean that much to me,
To mean that much to you.

I've been first and last.
Look at how the time goes past.
But I'm all alone at last,
Rolling home to you.

Old man look at my life --
Twenty four and there's so much more.
Live alone in a paradise,
That makes me think of two.

Love lost, such a cost,
Give me things that don't get lost.
Like a coin that won't get tossed --
Rolling home to you.

Old man take a look at my life.
I'm a lot like you.
I need someone to love me the whole day through.
Ah, one look in my eyes and you can tell that's true.

Old man look at my life,
I'm a lot like you were.

Posted by i220 at 08:00 AM | Comments (1)

July 14, 2008

Palindrome by Lucas: Parcel

Parcel

A tame nicer cul-de-sac
A mustang is a tad nosy
Asses are we
Note: dirt bed
Non-words lapse times
Murder a liar no ill acolyte
I rave no to last
Ross asks amiss
Don't, I'm Adam
One man or Boot main G.I.
Synapses; diadem; and oh we, well...
In a dell, Eve levelled an ill ewe who'd named A.I.D.S.
E.S.P? Any sign
"I am too Bro! Name no madam", it nods
Sim asks Assorts-a-Lot, one variety local lion, "Rail a red rum?"
Semite's pals drown on debt
Ride to new eras
Essays on data - sign at sum
A cased lucre cinema tale
Crap!!!

By Lucas "feat." Goldman

Posted by i220 at 09:28 PM | Comments (2)

July 05, 2008

Lyric by Matthew: The Enlightenment of Jarago the Genie

I've been trapped inside --
20,000 years in this jar.
You my friend you came along and set me free.
Spent my life behind locked doors but you gave me the key.
So sweet to feel the sun;
Oh Mother Freedom I could kiss you.

You -- you seem so sad.
Grant you 3 fine wishes to brighten your day.
Wish for fame. Wish for fortune. I don't care.
Anything for liberation -- don't you think that's fair?
And as the wind blows through my hair it whispers...

It's your time.
Your time --
Define yourself now.
Everybody swallows bullshit sometimes -- that's life. Don't waste my time.

We are one in the same.
You just show me the way and I will play the game
So sweet to feel the sun;
Oh Mother Freedom I could kiss you this time.

So, what is it you want?
Death and all it's privilege -- is that what you think?
So be it -- farewell -- the end of the line.
I have taken your place and you have taken mine.

My time --
Remind your self now.
Everybody chokes on their ego sometimes -- that's life. Don't waste my time.
Be kind to yourself now.
Everybody loses their innocence sometimes -- that's life. Don't waste my time.

Copyright: Matthew Wilson, 2008. From the forthcoming album tentatively titled "G[o]od". Lyrics subject to change.

Posted by i220 at 09:11 PM | Comments (2)

June 25, 2008

Lyric by: i220

Still Untitled - A WIP From The Upcoming Album Tentatively Titled S.A.L.A.G.I.A. by i220 & Speak Lexia

A donation to your beloved charity, it had to be,
30 or more pieces to cease this...

There was a time when Simon called on me less,
And the steeple people bought and souled just that I must confess.
But, I never preyed on. I had to pray for giveness.
It was all understood -- far less business for liveless.
Then, as the years ticked on, something flicked on and stuck there,
Like a previously viewed dawn it was picked up by luck.
There was a time when Simon called on me less.
I must confess.

A donation to your beloved charity, it has to be,
30 or more pieces to cease this or lease this,
Brand new point of view. I'm leaving you to pray in lieu of...

Today I just don't know what is --
Business as usual -- casual. I'm dizzy.
Got me speculating, accumulating, figuring something --
Technically assuming a lingering something.
Its all just confusing the issue.
No, I don't want the cabernet and raw fish.
You want me to finish my life and sign on,
But what's in it for me -- a designer wife and a line on,
Better credit/more legit/super fit/less bullshit?
It's a mindfuck/sucker punch. Go out on a hunch,
Lunch date. I can't crunch these numbers much later than,
8 or 9... 10...

A donation to your beloved charity, it's going to be,
30 or more pieces to cease this or lease this,
Brand new point of view. I'm leaving you to pray in lieu of,
Me.
Please say a few words for me.

I'm looking forward to a brand new day. If I had,
My way I'd lay down, face down to the ground,
No one allowed to to make a sound -- just listen.
Just missed that? Then do it all again.
This time Mammon can't help you.
I nominate the candidate to satiate and tell you,
It's treason. What reason?
Because you said so from the get go. Remember the show?
When what's it did the thingy just like who's them and so-so.
No -- no, I can't stay for the throw down.
I have a meeting downtown at the atrium. Slow down.
There'll be so much red tape it'll bury them.
We've got at least 15, 20, maybe half...
Laugh like it's yours 'cause it is but it isn't that,
I will be disloyal in any way.
I royally fucked it but I'm gonna ante up and give,

A donation to your beloved charity, it has to be,
30 or more pieces to cease this or lease this,
Brand new point of view. I'm leaving you to pray in lieu of,
Me.
Please say a few words for me.
Please say a few words...

Posted by i220 at 04:39 PM | Comments (1)

June 11, 2008

Lyric by Matthew: Freakshow

They never leave me alone.
Won't let me sleep.
Wanna kiss my wrinkled feet --
A polaroided keepsake.
Kind sir what is the overwhelming fascination in a freak like me?

C'mon give me a kiss.
I'm a wanted man.
You may never get another chance,
So take it while you can.
Sweetheart won't you tell me how it feels to be with the one and only?

I've never been that attractive.
And I've never had a pretty smile.
Never been on the cover of a magazine.
'Ll never drive a fast car.
But, you know I'm gonna be a star.

I know I'm not the cutest boy around,
In fact, sometimes I scare myself.
But hey don't let that change your opinion of me and you and you and me 'cause time can tell.

I've never been that attractive.
And I'll never have a pretty smile -- don't -- no I won't.
Never been on the cover of a magazine.
I ain't ever drive a fast car.
But, I know I'm gonna be a star.

Copyright: Matthew Wilson, 2008. From the forthcoming album tentatively titled "G[o]od". Lyrics subject to change.

Posted by i220 at 08:42 AM | Comments (2)

April 28, 2008

Lyric by Matthew: Fool

What the hell is this game that you're playin' -- makin' all the rules?
I'm sick and tired of this bitter rejection.
Am I some fuckin' fool?
You want it all so easy -- got nothin' to give.
The pool of tears has dried.
What was left just died; you threw it away.

On a lonely Saturday evenin' you call me on the phone,
Sayin' that you wanna be with me; don't deserve to be alone.
Then on Sunday mornin' you're with somebody else --
Givin' yourself -- givin' up yourself.
I can go to hell for all you care.

I'm just a charity case -- wrong time right place.
No, I'll never be good enough for you.
Throw this dog a bone -- call me on the telephone.
I'm the ultimate loser and you know that it's true -- just throw me away.

Know that I'd never desert you but I'm so God damned tired.
I've given every last bit 'a what's left to you.
Every time that I try to get closer you just turn your back.
That's when I realize, what you give back ain't true.

I'm just a charity case -- wrong time right place.
No, I'll never be good enough for you.
Throw this dog a bone -- call me on the telephone.
I'm the ultimate loser and you know that it's true -- a waste of your time.

Copyright: Matthew Wilson, 2008. From the forthcoming album tentatively titled "G[o]od". Lyrics subject to change.

Posted by i220 at 08:20 AM | Comments (0)

March 28, 2008

Poetry: "Hell Hath No Fury" by Amber

i'll tuck my wounded heart away
but remember every word i say

you might not like me still
you might not now, but you will

years will pass but i'll remain
inside your thoughts a secret stain

you'll see me from a distance then
your mind will be back here again

and i will be burned in your mind
and i, in turn, will not be kind.

Posted by i220 at 02:26 PM | Comments (0)

March 10, 2008

'WHORE' by Amber

I thought i was horny then,
24,25, way back when
twice a week and i was good
now just ask the neigh-bor-hood...

I'm just a whore!
a whore
a glorious whore!

My body will have you wantin' more
I have the looks all men adore
tight little bum and long brown hair
sweet little thing with sexy flair

I'm just a whore!
a whore
a glorious whore!

My moves will never ever bore
All you wanna do is make me sore
if you want some well get in line
I shall sleep with you in good time
cause....
I'm just a whore!
a whore
a glorious whore!

Posted by i220 at 08:36 AM | Comments (2)

February 27, 2008

"do i really have to..." by Amber

do i really have to spell to you how ive felt for too long
doesnt matter anyway
im married and your gone
better off without you
better off without your face
better off without passion
better off without disgrace
im pullin the plug on heartache
and novels of what if
not fillin my mind with thoughts of you
this life ive got to live
so im not gonna spell for you
what you put me through
god as my confidant im
better off without you

Posted by i220 at 01:18 AM | Comments (0)

January 21, 2008

Lyrics: Heaven on Their Minds - Tim Rice

My mind is clearer now
At last, all too well,
I can see where we all soon will be

If you strip away
The myth from the man
You will see where we all soon will be

Jesus

You've started to believe, the things they say of you
You really do believe this talk of God is true
And all the good you've done will soon get swept away
You'll begun to matter more than the things you say

Listen Jesus I don't like what I see
All I ask is that you listen to me
And remember, I've been your right hand man all along

You have set them all on fire
They think they've found the new Messiah
And they'll hurt you when they find they're wrong

I remember when this whole thing began
No talk of God then
We called you a man
And believe me my admiration for you hasn't died

But every word you say today
Gets twisted 'round some other way
And they'll hurt you if they think you've lied

Nazareth you're famous son should've stayed a great unknown
Like his father carving wood, He'd have made good
Tables, chairs, and oaken chests
Would have suited Jesus best
He'd have caused nobody harm
No one alarm

Listen Jesus do you care for your race?
Don't you see we must keep in our place?
We are occupied
Have you forgotten how put down we are?

I am frightened by the crowd
For we are getting much too loud
And they'll crush us if we go too far
If we go too far

Listen Jesus to the warning I give
Please remember that I want us to live
But it's sad to see our chances weakening with every hour

All your followers are blind
Too much heaven on their minds
It was beautiful, but now it's sour
Yes, it's all gone sour

Listen Jesus to the warning I give,
Please remember that I want us to live
So come on, come on, he won't listen to me ah
Ah

Come on
Listen, listen to me
Come on, and listen to me ahhh

Posted by i220 at 10:44 AM | Comments (0)

December 21, 2007

How The Grinch Stole Christmas

Grinch Copyright: Dr. Seuss

EveryWho Down in Who-ville Liked Christmas a lot

But the Grinch, Who lived just north of Who-ville, Did NOT!

The Grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason. It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right. It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight. But I think that the most likely reason of all May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.

But, Whatever the reason, His heart or his shoes, He stood there on Christmas Eve, hating the Whos, Staring down from his cave with a sour, Grinchy frown At the warm lighted windows below in their town. For he knew every Who down in Who-ville beneath Was busy now, hanging a mistletoe wreath.
"And they're hanging their stockings!" he snarled with a sneer, "Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!" Then he growled, with his Grinch fingers nervously drumming, "I MUST find some way to stop Christmas from coming!"

For, Tomorrow, he knew...

A TheMusicalRevolution.Com Freestyle, Song Lyric or Poem

...All the Who girls and boys Would wake bright and early. They'd rush for their toys! And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the Noise! Noise! Noise! Noise! That's one thing he hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! Then the Whos, young and old, would sit down to a feast. And they'd feast! And they'd feast! And they'd FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! FEAST!

They would feast on Who-pudding, and rare Who-roast beast Which was something the Grinch couldn't stand in the least!

And THEN They'd do something He liked least of all! Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small, Would stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing. They'd stand hand-in-hand. And the Whos would start singing!

They'd sing! And they'd sing! And they'd SING! SING! SING! SING! And the more the Grinch thought of this Who-Christmas-Sing, The more the Grinch thought, "I must stop this whole thing!" "Why, for fifty-three years I've put up with it now!" "I MUST stop this Christmas from coming!
...But HOW?"

Then he got an idea! An awful idea! THE GRINCH GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!

"I know just what to do!" The Grinch laughed in his throat. And he made a quick Santy Claus hat and a coat. And he chuckled, and clucked, "What a great Grinchy trick!" "With this coat and this hat, I look just like Saint Nick!"

"All I need is a reindeer..." The Grinch looked around. But, since reindeer are scarce, there was none to be found. Did that stop the old Grinch...? No! The Grinch simply said, "If I can't find a reindeer, I'll make one instead!" So he called his dog, Max. Then he took some red thread And he tied a big horn on the top of his head.

THEN He loaded some bags And some old empty sacks On a ramshackle sleigh And he hitched up old Max.

Then the Grinch said, "Giddap!" And the sleigh started down Toward the homes where the Whos Lay a-snooze in their town.

All their windows were dark. Quiet snow filled the air. All the Whos were all dreaming sweet dreams without care When he came to the first little house on the square. "This is stop number one," the old Grinchy Claus hissed And he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist.

Then he slid down the chimney. A rather tight pinch. But, if Santa could do it, then so could the Grinch. He got stuck only once, for a moment or two. Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue Where the little Who stockings all hung in a row. "These stockings," he grinned, "are the first things to go!"

Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant, Around the whole room, and he took every present! Pop guns! And bicycles! Roller skates! Drums! Checkerboards! Tricycles! Popcorn! And plums! And he stuffed them in bags. Then the Grinch, very nimbly, Stuffed all the bags, one by one, up the chimbley!

Then he slunk to the icebox. He took the Whos' feast! He took the Who-pudding! He took the roast beast! He cleaned out that icebox as quick as a flash. Why, that Grinch even took their last can of Who-hash!

Then he stuffed all the food up the chimney with glee. "And NOW!" grinned the Grinch, "I will stuff up the tree!"

And the Grinch grabbed the tree, and he started to shove When he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove.

He turned around fast, and he saw a small Who! Little Cindy-Lou Who, who was not more than two.

The Grinch had been caught by this tiny Who daughter Who'd got out of bed for a cup of cold water. She stared at the Grinch and said, "Santy Claus, why, "Why are you taking our Christmas tree? WHY?"

But, you know, that old Grinch was so smart and so slick He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick! "Why, my sweet little tot," the fake Santy Claus lied, "There's a light on this tree that won't light on one side." "So I'm taking it home to my workshop, my dear." "I'll fix it up there. Then I'll bring it back here."

And his fib fooled the child. Then he patted her head And he got her a drink and he sent her to bed. And when Cindy-Lou Who went to bed with her cup, HE went to the chimney and stuffed the tree up!

Then the last thing he took Was the log for their fire! Then he went up the chimney, himself, the old liar. On their walls he left nothing but hooks and some wire.

And the one speck of food That he left in the house Was a crumb that was even too small for a mouse.

Then He did the same thing To the other Whos' houses

Leaving crumbs Much too small For the other Whos' mouses! It was quarter past dawn... All the Whos, still a-bed, All the Whos, still a-snooze When he packed up his sled, Packed it up with their presents! The ribbons! The wrappings! The tags! And the tinsel! The trimmings! The trappings!

Three thousand feet up! Up the side of Mt. Crumpit, He rode with his load to the tiptop to dump it! "Pooh-Pooh to the Whos!" he was grinch-ish-ly humming. "They're finding out now that no Christmas is coming!" "They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do!" "Their mouths will hang open a minute or two Then the Whos down in Who-ville will all cry Boo-Hoo!"

"That's a noise," grinned the Grinch, "That I simply MUST hear!" So he paused. And the Grinch put his hand to his ear. And he did hear a sound rising over the snow. It started in low. Then it started to grow...

But the sound wasn't sad! Why, this sound sounded merry! It couldn't be so! But it WAS merry! VERY!

He stared down at Who-ville! The Grinch popped his eyes! Then he shook! What he saw was a shocking surprise!

Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small, Was singing! Without any presents at all!

He HADN'T stopped Christmas from coming! IT CAME! Somehow or other, it came just the same!

And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow, Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so?" "It came with out ribbons! It came without tags!" "It came without packages, boxes or bags!" And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before! "Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store." "Maybe Cristmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!"

And what happened then...? Well...in Who-ville they say That the Grinch's small heart Grew three sizes that day!

And the minute his heart didn't feel quite so tight, He whizzed with his load through the bright morning light And he brought back the toys! And the food for the feast! And he...

...HE HIMSELF...! The Grinch carved the roast beast!

Posted by i220 at 11:06 AM | Comments (2)

June 11, 2007

Poetry by: Omaha RisinG

Website: http://hammeredoutlitzine.blogspot.com/2007/05/omaharising.html

Email: omaha@axxent.ca

A TheMusicalRevolution.com reprint.

Posted by i220 at 09:06 AM | Comments (3)

June 08, 2007

Poetry: Forwarded Online

Poem and Words of Wisdom

Forwarded to the revolution: Author unknown.

Around the corner I have a friend,
In this great city that has no end,

Yet the days go by and weeks rush on,
And before I know it, a year is gone.

And I never see my old friends face,
For life is a swift and terrible race,

He knows I like him just as well,
As in the days when I rang his bell.

And he rang mine but we were younger then,
And now we are busy, tired men.

Tired of playing a foolish game,
Tired of trying to make a name.

"Tomorrow" I say! "I will call on Jim
Just to show that I'm thinking of him."

But tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes,
And distance between us grows and grows.

Around the corner, yet miles away,
Here's a telegram sir," "Jim died today."

And that's what we get and deserve in the end.
Around the corner, a vanished friend.

Remember to always say what you mean.

If you love someone, tell them.

Don't be afraid to express yourself.

Reach out and tell someone what they mean to you.

Because when you decide that it is the right time it might
be too late.

Seize the day. Never have regrets.

And most importantly, stay close to your friends
and family, for they have helped make you the person
that you are today.

SMILE, even through your tears!!!!!

Posted by i220 at 10:57 AM | Comments (0)

May 08, 2007

Poetry by: Omaha RisinG

Website: http://hammeredoutlitzine.blogspot.com/2007/05/omaharising.html

Email: omaha@axxent.ca

Posted by i220 at 11:28 AM | Comments (1)

April 14, 2007

Freestyle by: MC Free

ThIs,
Is a freestyle.
All the while schoolin',
Foolin',
Re-toolin' your consciousness.
Non-justice.
Just must confess,
That lesser rhymes,
Outta times,
Can't climb this mountain -
Fountain of truth,
That I spill.
Ruthless.
The best is back!
Attacking all the weaker thans,
Lacking the ability to speak,
to (wo)man's sense.
So.
Sit on the fence,
While I lay waste to the suspense -
While I own this present tense.
Look through this lens,
And learn something more dense,
Than reality TV.
Free your mind.
Remove your behind from the psychiatrist's couch.
Improve,
Your intellectual slouch.
I can't vouch for you,
Unless you step up and deliver,
A sliver.
What are you gonna do???
Free.

Posted by i220 at 11:01 AM | Comments (4)

March 08, 2007

Poetry by: Omaha RisinG

Website: http://hammeredoutlitzine.blogspot.com/2007/05/omaharising.html

Email: omaha@axxent.ca

Posted by i220 at 10:28 AM | Comments (1)

February 06, 2007

Poetry by: Chaser

Untitled

It has been some time since I've had a good Cry
Seems I cant even get a tear out when I try
I blame it on myself i suppose
Because seeking the truth is the route I chose

I feel Im speaking to a closed door
Everyone I try to enlighten, gets a good bore
Why is everyone afraid of the things that matter?
They'd rather pop a top and get a full bladder

All of us strive for some sort of salvation
But the life lead is full of damnation
The two just dont coexist
But since we "pray" we can persist

Worship, and Obey you seee!
O but dont forget your also "free?"
An eye for an eye
Unless it's a vicious "terrorist" that will die

Politics and Religion, Religion and Politics
No offense but most the "leaders" are hairy pricks
They dont care for me or you
Just tryin to figure out the next group of people to pursue

Yet they're the ones with the gavel
Givin' little kids a superficial reason to travel
Forcing God, and unethical laws on ALL the people
In dire hope of having their pathetic name atop some steeple

I trully dont blame them though
It's all our fault they get into the dough
"We the people" are the ones that dont care
I ask you will you try if I give you a beer, and a double dare?

If you guys have any suggestions for me
Please I encourage you to speak free
If at all possible respond today
Because Hitler, I mean Bush may take our precious Internet away..

Posted by i220 at 09:26 AM | Comments (4)

January 23, 2007

Poetry by Christine: TRIBUTE TO BOB!

his guitar was his machine gun,
in this war for unity,
people tried to shoot him down,
in his own community,

wounds in chest and arm,
wife shot in the head,
but he's still up on stage,
he'll never be dead,

locks covered his face,
he had the world in one hand,
everyone grew silent,
cus they knew it was time
to take a stand,

he continued dancing,
not noticing the gas,
he was the teacher,
the world his class,

Posted by i220 at 08:10 AM | Comments (3)

January 16, 2007

Poetry by: Omaha RisinG

Website: http://hammeredoutlitzine.blogspot.com/2007/05/omaharising.html

Email: omaha@axxent.ca

Posted by i220 at 10:28 AM | Comments (0)

January 11, 2007

Poetry by: Angel

Being a Rebel

being a rebel means
going against the status quo,
not being afraid to stand up for what you believe,
having the courage to express your mind and soul,

being a rebel usually gets me in trouble with the law
the politicians and the government
having a conscience is a hard thing to have when
so many don't have one
evil men have always tried to rule the world
breaking down the spirit of the downtrodden,
killing, maming, stealing children, stealing life's
last breath

being a rebel is the only way i know to be
for i was taught at my grandfather's knee
to stand up and say "No", i refuse to abuse
and intimidate and let evil rule in my life
even if it means giving my life

Posted by i220 at 09:41 AM | Comments (22)

January 05, 2007

Poetry by: Christine

IM FEELIN KINDA FUNKY......

sometimes it seems..
to me...
that people just...
dont think...
they say stuff...
they dont mean...
and it smashes...
peoples dreams...
like sometimes...
when we dance...
they just...
seem to laugh...
but were feelin...
funky...
and were....
feelin kinda...
fresh...

god i just cant....
take this...
smile off my...
face...
i used to feel...
quite low...
and sometimes....
wouldn't talk....
but now im....
feelin funky....
skippin...
as i walk...
and my smile....
makes me high...
with music by...
my side....
and when i....
see them below...
i reach for their...
spirit...
but they...
just dont get it...
but still...
no child left behind...
and...
this time you....
can believe it...
all you gotta do...
is keep love...
in your heart....
wrap it up....
and lock it...
anytime you need it....
it takes you for a ride...
dont worry...
these words...
confuse me too...
but these...
words are my soul...
im just lettin....
you know...
what my heart...
has to say...
god...
i just cant phase...
this...
i feel so...
good today...

Posted by i220 at 08:24 AM | Comments (1)

December 24, 2006

'06 Happy Holidays Everyone!!

...and a HAPPY NEW YEAR TOO!

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

For more info on this poem and it's origin check:
http://www.carols.org.uk/twas_the_night_before_christmas.htm

Posted by i220 at 08:00 AM | Comments (2)

December 11, 2006

Poetry by: OmahaRisinG

Website: http://hammeredoutlitzine.blogspot.com/2007/05/omaharising.html

Email: omaha@axxent.ca

Posted by i220 at 12:08 PM | Comments (2)

November 27, 2006

Poetry by: Christine

SPLISH-SPLASH

Splish-Splash, you hear the rain crash,
Cuddled up in a blanket on the couch,
Your eyes wide awake, but your body still asleep,
You stare at the ceilin' where the rain falls steep,
Its the weekend so ya lay there and think,
Life goes so fast ya don't know when ya blink,
I mean, I'm just a kid its gonna go fast,
I need to find some way to make this last,
All these kids wanna grow up so soon,
But one day there gonna wake up BOOM,
Pressin' snooze on the alarm clock,
"Shoot I'm gonna be late for work!",
Yeah that mom you yelled at isn't there anymore,
Too bad ya can't go back, ya shut that door,
Ya tanks almost empty but ya got no cash,
Splish-Splash...you hear the rain crash,

Posted by i220 at 10:02 AM | Comments (3)

November 20, 2006

Poetry by Chase Martin

Confused

Tried to find myself by the sea
Probably been better off livin in some tree
Staring at this liquid dome
How is it I cant find that place to call home?

My thoughts strive to find an end
I'm beginning to see it's all just for pretend
Pondering this parable called love
You know she cried when I shot that dove

Six and a half billion going about their day
And Im still strugglin to pray
Maybe I take my emotions too serious
Just seems so dreamy to be delirious

Fear not, as will you, I will find my place
Just gotta find that inner space
Then realize this life is not what it seems
Because we can only find salvation in our dreams

Posted by i220 at 10:35 AM | Comments (7)

November 07, 2006

Poetry by: Angel

A flannel shirt and Old Spice

today i went to find a warm flannel shirt for my husband,
as i was looking at the shirts, i saw one that reminded
me so of my father,

he always wore flannel shirts
they were so soft to feel
when i would hug him

and he always smelled of
old spice after shave

oh how i miss my daddy
the memories just came
flooding back to me

my heart started to hurt
so much

i wish i could hug him
just once more
and kiss his cheek
and smell the old spice

he was my best friend
my daddy
he was always there
for me

when i was a child
he taught me how to
work on cars and
to fix them myself

he built me a little
push cart and he
would push me
underneath the cars
when he was working
on them

i was his buddy
his little girl

and i miss him so

i know that someday
i will meet him in heaven
and i will run to him
and he will hug me
and he will smell of
old spice
and he will be wearing
a flannel shirt
and i will be his little
girl again

rebel productions oct 2, 06

Posted by i220 at 11:11 AM | Comments (2)

October 27, 2006

Bobby "Boris" Pickett Lyrics - Monster Mash

Happy Halloween

"Monster Mash"

GoodEvening. Ahahahaha.

I was working in the lab late one night
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight
For my monster from his slab began to rise
And suddenly to my surprise

He did the mash
He did the monster mash
The monster mash
It was a graveyard smash
He did the mash
It caught on in a flash
He did the mash
He did the monster mash

From my laboratory in the castle east
To the master bedroom where the vampires feast
The ghouls all came from their humble abodes
To catch a jolt from my electrodes

They did the mash
They did the monster mash
The monster mash
It was a graveyard smash
They did the mash
It caught on in a flash
They did the mash
They did the monster mash

The zombies were having fun
The party had just begun
The guests included Wolf Man
Dracula and his son

The scene was rockin', all were digging the sounds
Eegore on chains, backed by his baying hounds
The coffin-bangers were about to arrive
With their vocal group, "The Crypt-Kicker Five"

They played the mash
They played the monster mash
The monster mash
And it was a graveyard smash
They played the mash
Its caught on in a flash
They played the mash
They played the monster mash

Out from his coffin, Drac's voice did ring
Seems he was troubled by just one thing
He opened the lid and shook his fist
And said, "Whatever happened to my Transylvania twist?"

It's now the mash
It's now the monster mash
The monster mash
It's now a graveyard smash
It's now the mash
It's caught on in a flash
It's now the mash
It's now the monster mash

Now everything's cool, Drac's a part of the band
And my monster mash is the hit of the land
For you, the living, this mash was meant too
When you get to my door, tell them Boris sent you

Then you can mash
Then you can monster mash
The monster mash
And do my graveyard smash
Then you can mash
You'll catch on in a flash
Then you can mash
Then you can monster mash

Posted by i220 at 11:40 AM | Comments (4)

October 24, 2006

Poetry by: Christine

WE CHOOSE TO IGNORE!

Take from the poor
To get money from the rich
Now they got nothin
No money to spend
This world of opportunity
Is full of selfishness
Meat for our variety
The hungry left with shit
There so much material
Yet somehow we want more
We have the power to listen
But we choose to ignore

Posted by i220 at 08:39 AM | Comments (3)

October 16, 2006

Poetry by: OmahaRisinG

Website: http://hammeredoutlitzine.blogspot.com/2007/05/omaharising.html

Email: omaha@axxent.ca

Posted by i220 at 11:06 AM | Comments (1)

October 05, 2006

Poetry: REVOLUTION

By: Chase Martin

I will change this God-forsaken place
I will have no fear and show my face
I will take this journey
And not relent til im carried off on a gurney

Ill take my dream for PEACE, and find a piece
A piece of tranquility for all
Where Freedom can trully ring
And once again the people can sing

Ill stop this Governments tyranny and facist ways
By bringing our people out of this foggy haze
Ill stand up againt the biggest power of them all
And tear down this governments wall

People we NEED a REVOLUTION
By bringing back to life our CONSTITUTION
This man will continue to dream
Until our country is all on the same team

It is our Responsibility to fight for what is right
And these dreams are so within sight
No more disgrace of our flag
With some WEAK ASS price tag
Lets lay down the sword
And show once and for all why we are the greatest country in the World!

Posted by i220 at 10:03 AM | Comments (3)

September 19, 2006

SLAVE DAZE

Poetry by Christine

Chains around my ankles,
But i'm not an animal you see,
You took me from my homeland,
And now i am not free,

My love i see no longer,
I have no reason to sing,
Its hard to love, its hard to laugh,
I'm like a bird with just one wing,

You sold me like cattle,
As if i was imported silk or tea,
I don't even speak your language,
Why do you look down on me?

Now i pick your cotton,
My sister scrubs your feet,
The white man is not my friend,
Just a lazy,lyin', cheat!

Posted by i220 at 11:18 AM | Comments (4)

September 10, 2006

BEFORE ITS TOO LATE

POETRY by: christine clarke

soon they'll be gone
we'll need to stand up
we... the youth
are the future
lets not follow in
their footsteps
lets start a revolution
what they're doin'
isn't workin'
we know whats up
we see whats down
they say were free
i disagree
all nations should be one
put down your weapons
drop your guns
greed has replaced peace
indeed
don't care about your neighbor
just the fame
its a shame
whos to blame?
the time will come
rivers dried up
cus' we didn't change
we'll be gone
our families will suffer
not seeing the gifts that
God had made
the gifts we regifted
took and shifted
its time to step up to the plate
change the world in
a positive way
before its too late!!

Posted by i220 at 08:24 AM | Comments (10)

April 17, 2006

Poetry by Cara: Clay

sometimes i just don't feel human..
i just don't feel right..
as if i was made in a different image than you.
clay that continuously changes its form..
more often than not into something more beautiful than its predecessor..
people are born. they age. then die.
the end.

not i...
HA!
If only I were that simple I might sing my praises and thanksgiving to the gods.
But i'm an artform..not a robot..
I change with every breath of wind that blows my way.
New revelations come like clockwork now..
Warming my heart yet aging my soul..
If but I was a human I could live in the bliss of ignorance..
But..ah..
Alas I am art...a piece of work for all intents and purposes.
clay forming an exquisite new vase.
The clay never hardens..the glaze never applied.
For I won't stay a vase for long..and I don't know the next piece I'll become..
A moment can change a lifetime, and all life is simply a series of moments :)
In this moment I've smashed the clay flat once again..
No more vase..it's again time to begin a new design..
After this moment I'll become....

Posted by i220 at 02:56 PM | Comments (5)

April 08, 2006

Angel Poetry: Some of da days

Some of da days are righteous
some of em are not
some of da time i'm happy
some of da time it sucks
some of my life's been good
some been to heavy to carry
some days the sun shine
some days it's rot gut
some days i happy grinnin
some days i cry all da time
but most days i just happy
to be aroundBack to top

Posted by i220 at 10:02 AM | Comments (0)

March 25, 2006

Poetry by Cara: Bent but not Broken

She was strong like a fortress
Fragile as glass but would not break
The evil ones hurled her into oblivion, in the hopes that she would never recover
The shove into the abyss bent her beyond recognition
But they didn't know the power she posessed
In her typical metamorphic fashion, she came out of the nothingness ever more radiant
She shined brightly, with sunshine in her smile.
Their plot had failed them.
Only those who threw the dagger in her heart would never again be the same.
You see, what they didn't know...
Although she may be bent
She'll never be broken.

Posted by i220 at 06:53 PM | Comments (1)

March 13, 2006

Poetry by Xylopixie: Inner Labia

I am more (much more!)
than the sum of my parts
You can list them clinically
1-2-3-4
I am more than
What you take me for
I am more than
A heavenly body
More than just a number
More than a name
I am passion
Aggression
Fantastic revelation
I am the Chameleon of creativity
A kaleidoscope of moods
I am Mother Nature (incarnate)
I am Eve ( innocence lost)
I am Lilith ( temptress)
I am not your mother! (grow up)
I dare you
I dare you
Try me
1-2-3-4
My baby blues are mirrors
What do you see in the dark?
Copyright: March 4/2006, Xylopixie.

Posted by i220 at 09:07 AM | Comments (3)

February 25, 2006

Poetry by Cara: Euphoria

Giddy like a school girl, but jaded as a stoic..
Depressed..
But on the other hand I am truly elated.
It seems no matter what spectrum of emotions I entertain..
that there's always a flipside and mirror image of that feeling..
this is the burden that I currently bear..
I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders and this has been a conscious decision..
Dealing with the complexities of my own mind can be gruesome enough just within itself..
I love you, I swear I do..
But do I always have to play your saviour?!?!
As you hang me on my own personal cross and mock what my entire life is dedicated to????
Don't you know that I've loved you in all my time..
But you continue to disappoint me..
(On a side note, its a shame that this fucked up poem doesn't rhyme..)
I hang my head in disbelief..wondering why I even attempted to make you all in my own image in the first place.
Why did I bother? Why do I still care? Why do I hurt for you people?
I guess I just thought I could save you..I still would if I could..I promise.
But yet, a promise is just a sugar coated lie.
No matter how much I love you, no matter how hard I try..
None of you are the people I once loved..
So, I really can't be your saviour if I don't know who you are.
So maybe it's just myself I'm here to save..
It'll definitely be a first..
It should be easy enough..
I'll start that odyssey today...

Posted by i220 at 11:49 AM | Comments (2)

February 12, 2006

Poetry by Angel: Some of da days

Some of da days are righteous
some of em are not
some of da time i'm happy
some of da time it sucks
some of my life's been good
some been too heavy to carry
some days the sun shine
some days it's rot gut
some days i happy grinnin'
some days i cry all da time
but most days i just happy
to be aroundBack to top

Posted by i220 at 05:08 PM | Comments (0)

February 05, 2006

Poetry by Cara: All Hail the Queen

Your _expression screams that the joke is on me.
I've had enough of whoever it is that you've become.
A walking contradiction..
Strolling through your life in an ever intoxicated daze..
Have you no shame?
Looking earnestly into my eyes and lying to me
I'll fall to the floor and gawk in amazement
I suppose it's the least I can do..
bow down to the queen

Posted by i220 at 11:27 AM | Comments (2)

January 25, 2006

Angel Poetry: TAI CHI IN THE PARK

doing tai chi in the park
is so relaxing
listening to the singing
of the birds
watching ducks and geese
float by
brings such calmness
to my soul
friends smile and move
so slowly
going from one position
to the next
flexing my sore muscles
and reaching for the sky
is nirvana to me
cars pass by and slow
down to watch
as we move like ballerinas
in a show
i feel so in tune with
my surroundings
mother nature
all around
blessed fall morning
you are a spiritual
release for meBack to top

Posted by i220 at 09:25 AM | Comments (2)

January 12, 2006

Poetry by Cara: All of Me

Holding my heart in an oh so gentle grasp
This has become your service to me
Undo the chain lock, open the door wide...
Let me pass through the threshold, so I can see where your passions lie.
Let me in so I can look through your hypnotic eyes and understand your motivation.
I understand but a shred of your agenda
But my love for the whole of you consumes all of me.
I'm only yours my dear..
I'll be ever true and cavalier
Little do you know I'll soar past your expectations.
You might have held me all wrong in the past...
Now you just hold all of me

Posted by i220 at 01:41 PM | Comments (1)

January 04, 2006

Poetry by Angel: Christmas Past

Part 2 of Angel's holiday offerings. Thanks my friend.

most of my life
christmas been a
bummer
sadness for the
loved one's
that didn't care
remorse for past
sins,

somethin changed this
christmas
i woke up
realized how much
i have
not what i don't have
looked at my man
sleeping next to me
he been such a tower
of strength
loving me no matter
what
got a warm home
lots of good food
close and true
friends
who needs the rest?
the anger, resentment
and fear,
i'm cutting ya lose
old memories
just reminising
about how good
it be

Posted by i220 at 06:50 AM | Comments (1)

December 26, 2005

Poetry by Angel: What About The Homeless?

on my daily walk
i pass a very green field
a beautiful creek runs through it
birds singing
squirrels playing

such solitude and peace
i feel within my soul

i glimpse a movement
near the oak tree
what can it be?

please no, i don't want to see this
there are homeless people living
amid the grass and foliage

a small child peeks out at me
with sad and disparing eyes
ragged clothes and dirty face

it is cold outside
raining most of the day
these vagabonds are
exiled to living in the
damp cold existence
of the forgotten

a whole family
gathered together
huddled to stay warm

do they have enough
food? are their babies
hungry?

what do i do? i must keep
myself safe,
but how can i walk away
from this?

i walk back home
drive my car
to the nearest thrift store

buying child's clothing
blankets
socks
caps
gloves

then to the grocery store
a warm chicken
some hot chocolate
bread
cheese
milk

what else can i get
to help them fight
for one more day?

i drive up and wave
to the vagabonds
of courage
i give them all my
gifts and they cry and
i cry, i say to them, "i know your pain
i have been where you are
too, don't give up, there will
be a new day",

this is christmas
and they are living
as outcasts
much like mary
and joseph
did on that
special day
with their baby
wrapped in
tattered blankets

Posted by i220 at 11:37 AM | Comments (0)

November 21, 2005

Poetry by Cara: my fire

she was flaming
beauty contained in a box
as i removed her lid
i found what i was unaware was lacking within myself
a regular renaissance woman
posessing power that, even in her innocent self assurance she was clueless of
holding the world in the palm of her hand, also having the option to smash it to bits if it was so her wish
the heart of an angel, the mind of lucifer
the absolute perfect mixture.
Mother to all who hold her heart
my golden calf with a worn and weathered but resilient spirit
when her fire rages out of control, i'm the water there to calm the flames
you've created your own monster my dear friend :)
Ignited the long over due fire to my mind..

Posted by i220 at 07:54 AM | Comments (2)

November 12, 2005

SAD DAYS

sad days are upon us
the earth is spinning
too fast

rotating on it's axis
sometimes i wonder
it it's gonna last

bombs here and
guns blaring there
killing one another
it just ain't fair

tornados, hurricanes
all kinds of disasters
are we still the masters
of our domain?

seeing homeless
dying on the streets
not enough to eat

when's it gonna stop?
when did brotherly
love become a
thing of the past?

lookin like survival
of the fittest
don't know if i
can grasp
things the
way they are

fur sure
the world's spinning
too fast!

Posted by i220 at 01:14 PM | Comments (0)

November 03, 2005

Poetry by Cara: my once exquisite rose

a single rose
once crimson and vibrant with life
but the winds of fate have changed their direction
thus my beautiful flower began to wither away
i tried to water and revive her back to life, but her thorns were
too piercing
i dyed her black, alas only this would do her justice
as the now death hued petals fall from her
i'll shed a single tear for what was once my exquisite rose...

Posted by i220 at 11:13 PM | Comments (3)

October 29, 2005

'Cause it's a Thriller Night

...And what would Vincent Price say if he was payed to ;)

Darkness falls across the land
The midnite hour is close at hand
Creatures crawl in search of blood
To terrorize y'awl's neighbourhood
And whosoever shall be found
Without the soul for getting down
Must stand and face the hounds of hell
And rot inside a corpse's shell
The foulest stench is in the air
The funk of forty thousand years
And grizzy ghouls from every tomb
Are closing in to seal your doom
And though you fight to stay alive
Your body starts to shiver
For no mere mortal can resist
The evil of the thriller

Happy Halloween all!

Posted by i220 at 10:48 AM | Comments (2)

October 14, 2005

Poetry: RENEWAL

Life continues
to amaze me
you plant seeds
they grow
thrusting up through
the earth
pushing
against all odds
bursting alive
in the morning
sun
they open
and catch
a breath
of air
petals
dripping
with dew
colors
so
vibrant
and
new
and
so
life
continues
with
each
break
of dawn
and
renews
my
spirit
so
i
can
go
on.

Posted by i220 at 10:37 AM | Comments (4)

September 05, 2005

Poetry by angel: HIDIN FROM THE TRUTH

drugged up, fucked up,
don't know what's going on
seems like so many people
sing this song

found out myself that
i was hiding from my pain
all the shit that happened
to me was just a big refrain

it was easy losing myself in
the smoke and flyin high
crap

didn't want to really take
the rap
for what i had done and
what had been done to me

so every morning i would
just get into my dirt grave
thought it was gonna save
me

keep your head hidden
in the covers
don't want no reality to sink in

blessed day the truth came my way
opened my eyes to a sunny sky
hadn't seen that for awhile

got a smile on my face now
been there, done that too many times

don't care if this rhymes
just gotta say
a natural high is my life now
feels so good to face the past
now i can lay it to rest

and go on with the life
i so enjoy with my eyes wide open

Posted by i220 at 11:30 AM | Comments (3)

August 18, 2005

utopia by Angel

utopia to me would be
smoking a "j" with the
musical angels of rock

jimi hendrix, janis joplin, john lennon,
george harrison,

evis presley, sam cooke
jim morrison, john lee hooker,
michael hutchence, luther vandross,
roy orbison,

and all the other's that gave their
hearts and souls to entertain
the world

wouldn't it be cool to lay by the river
of life
and listen to the stories these greats
could lay on us?

then there would be the biggest concert
of all time and the heavens would open
up and there would be peace on earth

what a mighty fine time that would be!!!
©2005, Angel.

Posted by i220 at 08:11 PM | Comments (2)

August 08, 2005

TIRED OF THE SHIT by Angel

so tired of people trying to push me around
treating me like i don't belong
actin like i'm some kind of clown
calling me a dumb blond

just cause i'm a peace maker
don't forget i'm a earth shaker
i'll walk right over the top of your ass
if you push me too far

abusing me ain't gonna get it
i been around along time
learned how to stand against the wind
this here tree got some strong roots
just try tipping me over
ain't gonna happen
so let it go
take your anger somewhere else
leave me in peace

Posted by i220 at 11:58 AM | Comments (3)

June 23, 2005

V5)
my evening eyes
are more accustom
to abstract thoughts

Q6)
transition begins
where it ends
he never said it was an illusion

I7)
whisper of a tentacle
giant squid
hunting in ink

Posted by i220 at 09:44 AM | Comments (1)

June 03, 2005

A Theory - i220 Prose

Life is a test.
To pass, all you need to do is make the world a better place.
No quitting.

Procreate. Help. Represent the positive. Good.
Kill. Trample. Be a negative force. Hurt your cause.

The tree knows. It doesn't move.
The dinasaur knew. So they were forgiven.
The fish sense it. They don't think about it too much.
The fly doesn't want to know. They live just long enough to make more.
The rat improvises. They exist on our waste.
The wolf is learning. They have no other choice.
But we?

Posted by i220 at 07:56 AM | Comments (2)

April 25, 2005

WHEN I COLLIDED WITH MYSELF

Beaten down from too many years of abuse
spirit broken torn and
ragged, unloved soul
was i

giving up on life
i just wanted to die
drinking, drugs
fucked up
totally
abusing myself
and neglecting
my children

who was i
where was i
i didn't know
but i knew
the show
had to go
on

got together
with some of
my druggie
friends
took some
shit
ended up
in the gutter
don't know
how i got
there

a friend
woke me up
it was daylight
i was laid
out in the
street
peeps staring
at me

drug myself
home
tried to get some
sleep

a voice woke me
up
saying "angel
you're dying,
this is your last
chance, what
about your kids?
i gave them to you
to love and cherish,
get up and get it together"

i knew the voice was
the Lord telling me
it was time
to stop the pain
and remember
He was always
there with me

so i'll never
forget the day
that i collied
with myself

the two of me
became one
and we got
well
and pulled
ourselves outta
hell

Posted by i220 at 07:51 AM | Comments (5)

April 18, 2005

More Poetry: Haiku by Zoë

J5)
there must be something
more real than pale
fingers reaching for the sun

Q5)
Bejing nightengale
omit the distance travelled
from zero to one hundred

Posted by i220 at 07:53 AM | Comments (1)

March 23, 2005

CURLY HEADED LITTLE BOY

Topsey turvey runnin' around little curly headed boy,
you were my joy,
kept me goin' from mornin' til night,
big brown eyes,
lit up the sky,
devilish smile all awry,
mischief maker,
heart taker,
big grin on your chubby face,
you couldn't wait to join the race,
spinnin here and there,
never had a care,
loved to tease me till i cried,
"stop you little rascal, give me a break"
didn't want to spank you,
it hurt my soul too much,
so i would give in and say,
"what the heck",
now you are a man,
and you make me so proud,
but my memories of the curley headed boy will always be near.
I love you my son,
yo moms,
angel

Posted by i220 at 11:42 AM | Comments (2)

March 08, 2005

emerging from...

An older one but it holds a special place in my heart.
Send ova lyric/poetry to: weblog@themusicalrevolution.com
Share your passion and genius.

Emerging from this space-time continuum, a virtual visual vacuum akin to a kaleidoscope on valuum.
This reality isn't real.
It's a hoax premanufactured by me and tha revolution while telling jokes and sipping on rum and cokes.
(Elsewhere) "Another toke?"
*inhales* *coughs*
Ahhh yeah, I think I'm ready to philosophize.
"To be or not to be."
That ain't the fucking question.
i220 says it's an impossible pipe dream.
A declaration of independence? More like co-dependence.
The constituents are those with the financial resources to enforce these capatalist values of divorce, bogus educational courses and porous religious philosophy.
God/money.
It's a dichotomy, better yet, a full blown labotomy of one's cerebral cortex.
BAM!
I think I sold my soul to the financial institution on the corner of prostitution, phosphate and nitrate H2O pollution, patronizing the study of nuclear fusion and a deep rooted terrorist contusion on our society.
Do I have a solution?
No, but I do have a suggestion.
Listen.
Digest.
Read.
Educate yourself.
Ladies, stop blaming me and look inside.
Confide.
Empower yourself by widening your scope.
The love you posess encompasses hope for all of these not so gentleman, all too mental men, power hungry parasites not satisfied with dinamite.
You don't think they'd do it but they just might wipe us all off of this planet.
So, there you have it.
Understand it?
If you do I've got to hand it to you as I fade out to obscurity.
This supernova the epitomy of purity?
Thank you for your curiosity, sickening impulse to view the monstrosity, gorging yourself on animosity...
Lost city.

Posted by i220 at 06:49 PM | Comments (2)

March 04, 2005

Poetry: Haiku by Zoë

C4)
my God voice
is an indoor voice
my buddha voice is silent outdoors

A5)
the unsettled wound
fang tooth to the smiling
claw in flesh

Posted by i220 at 08:38 AM | Comments (3)

February 15, 2005

Lyric by feat.

no means to an end

She believes in lesser clothes
that have motifs of dessert rose
to recognize that effort grows
through record highs and desolate lows.
She'll memorize the better roads
then bend the skies of Heavens host
and then implied that severed throats
are no means to an end.

Defend society in different lights
with a proprioty of determined fights
and quietly has a firm insight
of silence being a turn of might
the violence never burns too bright
she relied on lessons learned through life
then defied her sentence yet concerned it might
be no means to an end.

Posted by i220 at 07:29 AM | Comments (2)

February 04, 2005

MY MOTHER IS DYING

'Angry woman always striking out,
telling me I'm no good, no doubt,
pushing, shoving, hitting all the time,
mean looks, angry stares, all of this rhymes,
hating men, pushing so hard,
no wonder I nearly lost my child within,
it was hard to even grin,
you told me once you hated me, didn't love me,
never wanted me,
so why should I care that you're almost there,
knocking at eternities door, soon you will be no more,
I don't feel sad, not too bad,
for you were my birth mother, but not my true source of love,
just someone that I came out of,
sorry you're dying, but hey I tried,
everytime I turned to you, you made me cry,
so here's to you and here's to me,
I know we never will agree,
on what's important in life,
for you see I still know how to love and be free"

Goodbye to you, I hope you find happiness in the next life,
your daughter angel

Posted by i220 at 12:42 PM | Comments (8)

January 12, 2005

REVOLUTION by Angel

revolution
constitution
absolution
co-creation
habitation
infatuation
pro-abortion
infiltration
copulation
sexual frustration
under one nation
no castration
blaxploitation
detoxication
rock the nation!

Posted by i220 at 12:43 AM | Comments (5)

January 04, 2005

Sense
Incredible ache
Longing
Liquid heat
Of fevered nights
Silent flex
Smoky touch
Harden within
to slide
glide
moan
sigh
Turn, gaze, kiss
kiss
kiss
k
i
s
s
Time stops
in a breath
whispers of windy stretches of sunlit dancing
cascades of emotional current
consuming like electric fire
smouldering deep
lit ablaze by a single touch.

Posted by i220 at 06:40 PM | Comments (3)

December 22, 2004

FEAR

I fear so many things,
bumps in the night,
am i wrong or right,
should i take a flight,
what about all the mights
and should haves,
will i ever see the light,
these things are so trite,
give me earthly delights,
love, happiness abound
and then I settle down!

P&C 2004, Angel of Hope.

Posted by i220 at 07:17 PM | Comments (4)

December 14, 2004

Haiku by Zoë

A4)
a day like this when
piano transitions
do not differ from the rain

B4)
nightly rituals of personal tragedy
an extraordinary number
of performances

P&C: 2004, Zoë Zagg.

Posted by i220 at 10:28 PM | Comments (4)

December 12, 2004

godless

black anGREYhite.
hack, claw, gasp for air.
no reason.
let down. disappointed.
not for you.
hate.
never trust your eyes.
laugh at my world. colour. daydream. destiny. father. mother.
figments of imagination.
for you.
goodless.
P&C, i220, 2004.

Posted by i220 at 07:05 PM | Comments (2)

November 18, 2004

I am a chameleon
I morph
From sweetness
To scathing
To laughter to sultry
To tenderness
I cannot help myself
From changing
I am a butterfly
That is just not satisfied
With the single transformation
I am a sensualist
Feel all or feel
Nothing.
XyloPixie ©January 2000

Gus sent this over. Hit Comments below to let her kno what you think.

Posted by i220 at 10:10 AM | Comments (5)

October 29, 2004

The "Lyrics/Poetry" Category

A place to unleash your poetic prowess. Drop your genius here.

Lyrically speaking, you've got a lot to say,
But until today there was just no way
To share what was weighing heavy on your mind.
It's unfair, unkind,
But now you will find
This place to wax, place to shine -
Don't hesitate! weblog@themusicalrevolution.com
At the bottom of each lyrical masterpiece you will find a "comments" button - use it.
Read more under the Lyrics/Poetry Category.

Shine sorta rhymes with kind. Ya find?

Posted by i220 at 10:23 AM | Comments (8)