pianos

Poetry

It fuels me, this ever-giving light
beyond voice, beyond me, it is me
but it is through the glass door I see
revolving not stopping but slowing
for your graceful entrance
into an unready sea,

the waves know not how
to knock into your sound
so it fits its crest into your arms,
your hands are pianos
until they become what they’ve
always wanted – songs with a voice
to sing them with confidence

sweet jones

Poetry

i dont know what to do other than to listen because if you dont listen than the world has no thing to hold on to but a word that has no sound but a breath in and out from a realm looking always forward, never look back, don’t look back, you’ll only slow yourself down if you keep looking back, you’ll only see a reflection that is the back of your head looking back, never look back, but you’re looking, you’re seeing it, there is no difference between the two but the middle and the center, never left behind but right behind the top where welcoming hugs help you right back to the top of how but not why like science, science never had a time in space but space never had time for science, only questions that, when answered a while ago, never seemed that special, never seeming, always appearing, appearing, reappears and reoccurs like dreams the night they occurred and the day after was beyond yesterday, yesterday was in the future at one time, the day was a night on another face where the sun hid, when the sun had more than just fire but a greenish hue no humans heard in their eyes – their eyes are just magnets for things they love – I love humans, I was once there and still am, always like JESUS, and his disciples, and the bible, and kanye west was there too in another robe on another surface of time where time never had space for religion like how love always has room for forgiving hate though never tolerating what had always came in its way, like a mirror where the was a wall and now I am looking into my own nose, you know, the one that smells the taste of your breakfast breath – heaven’s scent – pure – unadulterated – untainted but by yesterday’s experience which never ends except on the day after, always happening, and happening forever, but we put it away like knick-knacks on the wall unit with a mirror in the back, the back where I see our faces eating dinner, paying no mind to the roads behind us, it’s always happening even when it couldn’t, but it is, and no matter what, you will find your way through this shit, damnit, whether you like it or not, you will find a way and you will like the way it feels like how you like the way you feel doing this right now every now and again, it feels so good, love’s real, and he will keep something in his soul, and you will love the thing we sleep on, and love is something inside my life, and love is something on top of life because life was made of the love of what makes us real, so real, like the jaw clenching down on that sweet jones for another thrill of adrenaline or the flight of love into the hills of a brilliant beam beyond sex or music or even words, ya feel, cuz reality needs to stay solid, why keep it in the these separate compartments – a glove before a hand, here up in the down-stairs level where the secret is held in the heart like some dirty scandal when it was just notes and sound and feeling, pure feeling, never need it be hidden because GOD loves it and feels it even if it is ugly, or mental, or flooded with the past, never look back, always ahead, but it’s always happening, it happened, but it never happened again, and that’s how you move forward and keep yourself together, the feathers of heaven tether you to why we keep ourselves awake in this mess of business, this busy nest of beings always looking for the best possible versions of before so that after was always what was before without it being so forward about where it left itself behind because we never look behind us, there is no point, it already happened, we can only create realities that intrigue the world of an escape that reminds us of our fate, that there is no escape, all that doom gloom no room for flowers to yellow bloom so we just makes sure that we begin it slow, steady, and never like the rest, ahead of itself, and we will see how it comforts even if it stings because it is all happening before it happened in our sleep, because we are eating breakfast for dinner, and we love dessert before we eat dinner, and we drink and sing before we eat dinner, so that when dinner is served, we have room for one more coffee to keep me going for another round of sleep, so that earth can roll around the sun like a top never stopping for little old humans in little old rooms made out of wood and nails made from gutted suns millions of years older than the great grandson of the sun as we call it as it is in the middle, always smiling, ready to give another little world nails for walls to keep little beings safe and happy and willing to make some noise so GOD can swing his great big booty for GOD-MOMMA as she calls to the response of sweet angelic voices calling for love and happiness all around because why not, that’s what they want, that’s what I want, damnit, and it aint hard, look at me now, it’s good, it feels good.

beast

Poetry

we are just beasts
we climbed down trees
just to build ourselves streets
it’s we who we run from
told by how he beats he
and calls himself MAN
and the other he BEAST
they know not that we are from
the same seed with the same reach
between good and evil
don’t believe me?
leave earth and try to breathe GOD
but GOD won’t breathe you
as you’re gasping for truth
always asking for proof
as if it’s not in your instincts
to eat, sleep
read for the clues
we all paid our dues by coming
out our momma’s womb
so what makes you beyond
the human intrinsic?
bones born in seas washed
on this land of beasts
long extinct
all we are just as we’ll be
if we don’t stop and think

family matters

Poetry

There is a bruise on the end of this nation with a color of black and blue caused by bullets through and through the body and the head of once kings, then slaves, now another statistic in the news. So, what’s the use in an open dialogue as the cogs turn on about who’s to blame for the issues birthed from a grave misunderstanding of our own truth?

You see, when a man kills another, he only kills his brother – the blood on these streets is the same blood all veins bleed. So, this is a family matter, and this matter is a mirror. This reflection he shatters make the cracks of the ego clearer, but the shards lie silent on the pavement. The only justice served was the fulfillment of a craving deep-rooted in the dirt of the days when man was naked and wild and the trees were his kingdom, the days when man sharpened his stone and drove deep through his own brother’s young heart its lonesome cold. Broken children exiled from their homes carried on this which roams in the domes of all men today:

The ways of evil unrecognized by the ego
The reflection which has destroyed itself
The shard of the heart which can’t regrow
The distance between freedom and this hell
Where family is nothing but an institution
One step removed from a job and a jail cell

consumer blues

Poetry

time turned further into future fires burning this third dimensions, submerging intentions below that of battles over matters that never even really ever mattered.

the scattered ashes of turned soldiers snow cold with apathy over brothers murdered serving the demon seed concern for the ego greed of pig elite.

feed the children food, not these big boy blues that drain away the youth, this well-funded truth – the way we’re shaped, made vain, vacant, wasted, freebasing our brain cells, cranked out on languished man-child banging dope into gray veins.

he gave up the sane sound and scope of life, changed lanes, careened careers through the median half a mile from the mainstream exit – the laugh track cued too soon.

it’s mad cold outside the womb, and we’ve masked these wounds like soap washing bleach stains out these dreams so we eat fame to cope.

no fruit for birds

Poetry

It’s written in a book, all of our lives in pencil – fate changing every sentence, every step
gauged for every decision made. Most stray from the path GOD gave – eraser rubbings
hot from fresh destinies pushed away in the name of something brief and fleeting.
Instead, we need to go back in pen, solidify what’s best in life, deny the apathetic
autopilot flight simulation, take control even when we feel the wheel slipping into
turbulence because we may make mistakes, but that hurt, those tears, the years we
suffer, none of it is permanent – not even death can kill the legacies of legends and the
men left in seas drowning in hopes failed. GOD never bails on the lesson as long as you’re
learning, not turning back down the fast track of past lives long out of print – a burden on
your angel’s bookshelf, a self-serving sip from the river filled with dead meaning, a tree
which leaves its leaves on the ground and grows its branches long with no fruit for birds
to eat so the past will starve and sins repeat. And the angel sighs, biding time until you
die, guides again the soul towards an end, amends mistakes, bends a tunnel back to
earth where you’re birthed again an animal – blind, wandering, innocent but ignorant to
the memories of choices made that once laid a human in his grave – where such a time is
an act of balance which takes talent to teeter on the tightrope, where below no lifeboat’s
thrown when blown off course, where no word is heard when no words are formed for a
form such as yours. Listen now, ’cause how do you know that when you walk amongst
the clouds, then shot down to live again, you won’t be born as dove pigeon or belgian
blue, with no good book, no new path but a trotting hoof or wing flap south ’til the next
reckoning when it beckons for your return?

Is that when the lessons align with how you lived and what you learned?

breakdown in the breakroom

Poetry

society contains me from the nature of which we were birthed – a veil over that which makes purpose – and I claw away at everlasting plastic that’s latched to my throat and limbs and now around my eyes so I cannot see what is best for me. It moves my jaw to say I’m happy, but I’m strangled, tangled around my wants so they snap, and I am left with control but no action – frozen, stable for people, losing myself.

I go back to work and hide behind plastic.

Smokin’ Blunts with Kevin Kush

2021, Discussions

It was late February 2021 and we had just posted up on the couch at Kevin Kush’s apartment. Three blunts were smoked that night. We didn’t even leave until probably four-thirty in the morning. As usual, we got down to talkin’ politics, religion, and conspiracies – shit that you don’t really speak about at the dinner table, unless you grew up with KK and MM that is. What you’re about to read is only just a snippit – perhaps you’ll get the read the whole thing one day…



KEVIN KUSH – master MC, engineer, producer, minecraft innovator, ape-handed cryptominer

MAX M – editor of THAT VOODOO, bassist of Palamino

RC – remaining anonymous, but if ya know, ya know.



TRACKLIST:

1 – COLORADO DREAMIN’
2 – SAMSARA


[parental advisory: explicit content]

COLORADO DREAMIN’

KK: 200 dollars for that? Yo, we used to get this shit for 60 dollars in Newark. Sixty fuckin’ dollars! That’s straight Airy, bro. That’s Arizona.

MM: [Laughs]

RC: You got your grinder, though?

KK: Yep. Hold on one second. Lemme fuckin’ throw this in there. Shit, fuckin’, I’m too bougie […]

RC: That’s why we just gotta get the fuck out of here and go to Colorado, fam.

KK: I know.

MM: Yeah, you just go to a store.

RC: Dude, I would just go to the store after work, you know what I mean? Like, just pick up my fuckin’ marijuana for the same exact price you would pay for it here anyway, like. That’s the thing.

KK: Right?

MM: Yeah, and it’s better weed.

RC: But the taxes aren’t, like, out the ass over there like in California, ya know?

KK: It’s not too bad. It depends on what county you’re in.

RC: Yeah, that’s true. Every single one we went to was great, though.

MM: What was it about Colorado Springs, though? There’s no dispensaries, right?

RC: Yeah, it’s illegal, like, to have a [recreational] dispensary in Colorado Springs. I mean, that was old, though. I don’t know if they recently–

KK: Yo, listen. There’s fuckin’ enough dispensaries in every little bumfuck town and village around there, it don’t matter, yo.

RC: Exactly. Off the highway kind of shit.

KK: I was, like, drivin’ through shit that looked like a trailer park, and then all of a sudden it’s like, fuckin’, “THE GREEN DRAGON!” [Laughs]

MM: Yeahhh! [Laughs]

RC: Right! Everywhere, bro.

MM: Yo, I’m pretty sure we probably seen that same one right off the highway.

RC: Yeah, The Green Dragon.

KK: Yo, I stopped at a whole bunch of different ones, bro. We were like, “Ooo, that’s a new name, let’s go there!”

MM: [Laughs]

KK: There was one that was like a fuckin’ weed megastore, though. I forget which one it was. You had to like sign up–

RC: Oh, probably um, Native–

MM: Native Roots?

KK: No, but we went to Native Roots.

RC: Oh, ’cause that’s one of the big corporate ones there.

MM: Native Roots is like a CVS.

KK: It’s like a doctor’s office.

RC & MM: Yeah.

KK: I didn’t—we went there first, and then, like, what? Went in there, and it looked like a white waiting room, and you had to enter onto a list to go into the thing.

MM: Is that the one near the airport?

KK: I’m not sure, but, fuckin’ uh, yeah I think so, actually, ’cause we were, uh—it was right on a main highway. It was two-sided?

MM: Yeahhh, it’s like kinda you make, like, a right off the highway, or something like that.

KK: Yeah.

RC: It’s like by a bunch of hotels?

MM: Next to a 7/11?

KK: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

RC: That’s it, dude!

KK: Yep. So, we stop there […] and we put ourselves on the list, and they were like, “Alright, it’s gonna be 15 minutes.” We went and waited in the car, and we were like, “Fuck this,” and we went to another one down the street.

RC: Honestly, at that point. That’s how convenient it is, though, ya know?

KK: Yep, it really is.

RC: Versus New Jersey where you gotta just get it off the fuckin’ black market. [Laughs] Fingers cross it.

KK: Honestly, them black market prices be right, though.

RC: That’s the thing.

KK: It’s gotta be right. What am I looking for? My razor blade? Tell me I fuckin’–

MM: I remember [RC’s] friends were living, like, when they were living in California, that they would still get it from the street because in California the taxes were crazy.

RC: Yeah.

KK: Yeah, it’s too high.

RC: Yeah. I mean, it still is to this day. It’s, like, the black market’s thriving.

KK: The grey market, that’s what it was called ’cause it was legal tender, like marked with the CA stuff, like everything was legal about the product, it was just sold illegally. Sold off the books. Where the fuck–? Okay, fuck it.

RC: Yeah. I see. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I went to an illegal dispensary because, um, in California, because, I mean, it was sketchy, for one. But they didn’t give you a receipt – and other dispensaries I went to, like, gave me a receipt – they wrote every transaction down with a pencil on a piece of paper that they kept behind the register [Laughs]. And there prices, dude, were phenomenal, though. It was like you’re paying for it on the street, you know what I mean? So…

KK: They had, like, 70 dollar shake ounces out there [Colorado]. I was like, “Whaaaat?”

MM: Yeah. The 5 dollar pre-roll. Or even a free pre-roll.

KK: Oh, I got a free pre-roll on Dani’s b-day.

RC: Oh, sweet. Yeah, they do that shit.

MM: For it being her birthday?

KK: Uh-huh.

MM: Sick.

RC: There was this one, it was called Good People, and dude, it was organic bud. This shit, though, dude? I felt like it was the first time I was smoking again, like, that’s how potent it was, you feel me?

KK: Yeah. Yo, I was smokin’ thirty-percenters out there – Willy Nelson’s Reserves.

MM: [Good People had] pre-rolled blunts with hash. What the fuck?

KK: Yeah, I know. I wasn’t really—I wasn’t about it, though. Honestly, the weed was so good, I wasn’t feelin’ the blunts.

MM: I wasn’t either, but he sold me on the fuckin’ hash shit.

RC: The hash was good as fuck, though.

MM: He was like, yo, everybody makes hash in this different kind of way, they still make hash in the old world way.

KK: Yeah, like the sugar hash?

MM: I don’t know, I don’t fuckin’ smoke this shit. [Laughs]

RC: And the type of air they have in Colorado is best for hash, so that’s why they have the high quality.

MM: It’s like, maybe when we’re out there, we should look into ways of making hash.

RC: I mean, I want to grow my own trees, that’s for sure.

MM: I would love to grow weed.

RC: You know, just like a personal tree.

MM: I heard that California—I mean, uh, Colorado isn’t the best for weed growing.

KK: Personal growing.

RC: Yeah.

MM: But if it’s the best place for hash, that would be fun. I just don’t know how to go about it.

KK: Fuck it, you can just fuckin’ grow, man. Who the fuck gonna bother you?

RC: Yeah.

MM: Yeah. No, I just mean, like, I would wanna make hash, I would wanna figure out how to come up with a product.

KK: The best way to make hash, man, is like cold water. Ice water hash. Like, ice hash. What is it called?

MM: Oh yeah, where they freeze it and then they get the–

RC: Compressor, or whatever-the-fuck.

KK: The fuckin’ shit like that, yeah.

RC: My friend, um–

KK: You get all the, fuckin’, the-the-the fuckin’ shit off it, and then they heat press it into rosin coins.

RC: Yeah, that’s what [someone] does in [someone’s] fuckin’ attic. [Laughs]

MM: [Laughs] That’s funny.

KK: Yo, rosin is the best, I don’t care. Rosin is the best hash, hands down. Doesn’t taste the best, it’s not the most terpy, but fuckin’ it gets you fired up. Like, good, clean too. I need a fuckin’ light.

RC: I fuckin’ love marijuana. That’s all I know.

KK: It’s the only thing I look forward to, is seeing my girl and smokin’ weed at the end of the day.

MM: [Laughs]

RC: Dude, right? Right, bro?

KK: I bring a blunt to work just so I can stay sane. I fuckin’ leave on a fifteen-minute break, I smoke a blunt in the parking lot walking to Panera and get a coffee.

MM: I can’t work high […] I have to be, like, super fuckin’ focused. Like, when I get stoned, I get…

RC: Not focused as fuck, Max.

SAMSARA

RC: I just feel like we got to get the fuck out of this area though. Pft. I feel like this is a bad area to be if shit actually does goes down, you know what I mean? Simply because, like, New York is right there.

KK: Mad people there. Just mad criminals around that are just gonna be goin’ for everything.

RC: Yeah dude, we’re not really in the best area.

KK: You’re all on top of each other. It’s fuckin’ terrible. I hate this place.

RC: I know. [Laughs] Right, dude? Literally me and Max. All the time, bro.

[…]

KK: I don’t know, man. Shit’s fucked up in this world though. Fuckin’ even, like, Bibi Netenyahu is, like, fuckin’—like, yo, all these establishment motherfuckers – even Israel. Something’s wrong with Israel. And I’m a big Israel supporter. Like, the people of Israel are good, and they believe in what they believe, and it is–the real purpose is there. But, like, this country–

MM: But you can never trust the government, man.

KK: Exactly.

MM: You can never trust the government.

RC: All in all, the world is fucked, you guys. The world. [Laughs]

MM: I don’t know why people trust the government. Like, I don’t know. Like, people fall in line. When people start falling more and more in line with what the government is trying to tell you what to think, like, you know what I mean?

KK: Yeah.

RC: Well, it’s kinda—you have to understand, though, it’s ya know, we’re all coming from a different place, of course, but it’s hard not to when you’re being conditioned constantly.

MM: Absolutely. We all [in this room] went to public school.

RC: You know, especially when you have a deep faith in something like religion, going back to that. Ya know? Because religious people are some of thee most, um, easily brainwashed. I’m sorry to say it, ya know? And that’s coming from very religious parents, like, you know what I mean? Just blindly believing in something. It’s like, um, it’s like so weird. Super weird.

KK: Most religious people – like, the most religious that you’ll ever meet – usually have lived the toughest, realest lives, and experienced the most fuckin’ horrible things, they know the realities of the world, or whether they’re fighting addiction, alcoholism, fuckin’ being a gang member, goin’ to jail, fuckin’ being in the system and experiencing it. Religion is very important. Religion is very important. Believing, having faith in something that is more powerful than yourself, and not worshipping idols is a fuckin’ huge, huge lesson. There’s absolutely true fuckin’ lessons in the Bible. There’s absolutely true lessons in fuckin’, like, the Old Testament and even the New Testament. Probably King Solomon’s Bible is probably verbatim what it was, but it’s allegoric. It’s allegory. These people are looking at these stories is not–

MM: It’s mistranslations, also.

KK: Exactly. […] It’s like Narnia.

MM: Yeah. You have to connect to your spiritual side so you really could understand it.

KK: Exactly. To understand and interpret.

RC: But that’s the big difference, though, I would like to say. Religion and spirituality are not conjoined.

KK: They’re not the same thing. Like, spirituality is a cop out. There’s no such thing as spirituality.

RC: No, but I mean like feeling it in your soul and your heart and, like, making it your identity, you know?

KK: That’s just your endorphins. Your endorphins and your feelings.

MM: Whoever runs your church. Whoever runs your church—yes.

KK: Spirits and spirituality is like when people say, “I’m not religious.” Religion, period, is just a word. Alright? It’s the word of what we call it and doesn’t even fuckin’ mean any of this.

RC: Well, organized religion is what I’m referring to, really.

MM: But it is that faith. There is the faith in God.

RC: The blind faith in God, nonetheless.

KK: It’s not even blind. Some people fuckin’–

MM: Well, it’s important to understand why.

KK: How can you say there isn’t something that created everything? Whether it be a fuckin’ – it’s not man in the sky – whether it’s a fuckin’ equation, whether it’s some particle that we’re all made up of.

RC: Yeah. Everything’s connected, ya know? Everything’s fucking connected at the end of it.

MM: Yeah. It always leads to something, yeah.

KK: And it’s all mathematically perfect.

RC: Yeah, exactly. It’s perfect.

KK: That, and we figured out the math.

RC: Yeah, yeah. Not all of it, yet. I feel like there’s still more we gotta figure out about the world and consciousness.

MM: There’s always more math.

KK: Consciousness, exactly. We are all of one consciousness, experiencing ourselves from different perspectives.

RC: ’Cause everybody’s unique, you know? No one will live the exact same life, so it’s like the same equation infinitely, you know? Infinite numbers, like, no number will be the same, no person will have the same experiences as someone else, quite literally.

MM: Yeah, exactly, yeah.

RC: Pretty nuts.

KK: I feel like, fuckin’, overpopulation is a problem. I feel like there’s only a certain amount of souls.

RC: Sounds like Bill Gates. [Laughs]

KK: Are you ready? Yo, are you ready? Listen to this. Are you ready? This is fucked up. This is why. There’s only a certain amount of souls, and if you are reincarnated, your soul is something else, whether it be another person, another fuckin’ lifeform, whatever the fuck it is. What happens when you fuckin’ run out of souls? Are souls being created? Are you ever-expanding, creating more souls? Is it [when] people [are] dying, are you recycling souls? What happens?

MM: Well, energy is never created nor destroyed, so it’s always–

KK: Always the same.

MM: Hm?

KK: So, if you’re creating more and more and more and more people who are embodying that, what kind of energy is embodying those bodies?

MM: Ah, I see what you’re saying.

RC: Well, if you believe in reincarnation, then do you believe in past life regression though? Do you know what I mean?

KK: Yeah. Like, yeah, yeah. Yeah, absolutely. I used to tell my mom – remember when I was big [into reincarnation], and tell her fuckin’, like, crazy shit when I was younger. I don’t fuckin’ remember. There’s people that—there’s literally documentaries where fuckin’–

RC: Yeah, I’ve seen ’em, I’ve seen ’em. Yeah, I know what you mean.

KK: Yeah, where little kids are like, fuckin’, somebody from World War II and remember everything – where they died exactly.

RC: Wait, did you watch Surviving Death?

KK: Yeah!

MM: Yes! Yo, Surviving Death is so dope.

KK: So, I saw that story when it was on the news, when that shit was back in the 90’s. Yo, I remember that shit, and that was when I was into, fuckin’, reincarnation, like heavy.

RC: That’s crazy, dude.

KK: Fuckin’, uh, yeah, dude.

MM: Yo, mom told me that you used to, like, speak another language, like–

RC: That’s so weird.

KK: Yeah, so it’s like, I definitely believe in that shit, but I feel like that’s your metaphysical. Your metaphysical is always being fucked up in where we are because of the elements that we’re around – why does my fuckin’ tooth keep fallin’ out. Um, but yeah, fuckin’, so it’s like we’re always calcifying our fuckin’ pineal gland, we’re always fuckin’ dumping different shit into our bodies. It doesn’t matter what you eat ’cause it’s grown in the soil on this fuckin’ Earth, and that’s why, maybe fuckin’ in the religious term if you’re looking at this, this is not God’s world – this is fuckin’ Lucifer’s world – because the second that your soul enters this world, it starts dying immediately. And then what happens? And then you could be fuckin’ dead for twenty years and reincarnated, or sixty years, or long was it ’til that kid–

RC: Purgatory, bro. Whatever the fuck purgatory is, man.

KK: What is purgatory? Is it purgatory?

MM: But that’s how you perceive it in your mind though.

RC: I don’t know. Something’s going on over here, I’m just saying, in the world.

KK: And then you’re speaking Heaven and Hell, alright. So, what if Heaven–

RC: I don’t know if I believe in Heaven and Hell, man.

KK: Alright, well, what if we’re in Hell right now? And Heaven is where you go in the original purgatory, and then you come back to Hell. It’s just a constant cycle of Heaven and Hell – Yin and Yang, little bit of good in the evil, a little bit of bad in the good. What’s the bad in the good? You have no fuckin’ feelings, you don’t experience human life, you just live on the outside in perfect harmony, whoever the fuck it is, whatever fuckin’ Heaven is – the interpretation of what it is. You’re just all-knowing, all-fifth-dimensional-seventh-dimensional being type shit, and then all of a sudden you’re put back to experience human life, the human experience, which is fuckin’ Hell. Let’s be fuckin’ real. There’s nothing fun about this shit.

RC: Yeah. I think about that a lot, you know what I mean? Like, what the fuck is this shit, you guys?

MM: Samsara, that’s what that concept is in Buddhism, is Samsara, where it’s, like, this is constant suffering down here, like, you know what I mean?

RC: [Laughs] It really is, like, day-to-day.

KK: And it’s down here. It’s down here. Lucifer’s world. Hell. Down here.

RC: Well, I don’t think it has to be. I think that, unfortunately, the life that we do live now–

KK: It doesn’t matter. You’re always gonna experience loss. You’re always gonna experience pain. You’re always gonna suffer in some way, shape, or form, whether it’s more or less than the next person. You’re of one consciousness experiencing fuckin’ life from a different perspective than everybody else.

MM: But then that’s the battle of the mind though, is that this isn’t Lucifer’s world because without God there wouldn’t be Lucifer. That’s the mind game that Lucifer and God did play.

KK: Well, Lucifer fuckin’ is God. He’s the bringer of light. What about that?

RC: These are just concepts as well – Lucifer and God – you know what I mean?

KK: “Let there be light.” He’s the bringer of light.

MM: Yo, this is a controversial thought, but I’ve thought that Jesus and Lucifer were kind of like one and the same. It was a mental game with Himself.

RC: The good wolf and the bad wolf kinda thing, you know what I mean?

KK: Like the fuckin’ Him fighting temptation type shit?

MM: Yeah. Like, “I’ll give you the world.” [Jesus] was basically like, “I don’t want any of the nations.”

KK: Yeah, He didn’t want none of it.

RC: I don’t know. [Laughs]

MM: Right? And that’s where religion comes into play though.

KK: Think about the moral teachings. Where does morality come from? Comes from Judeo-Christian culture. Right and wrong come from Judeo-Christian culture. Took thousands and thousands of years to perfect. There’s fuckin’ intervention in every fuckin’ religion from some sort of sky-being – that’s another thing, too. Like, what if God is taught from people that know exactly what the fuck God is, and they were here beforehand?

MM: Well, back then, who knows what motherfuckas were experiencing – I don’t know. I do think that something came down here at one point.

KK: Oh, no, absolutely believe it. I believe crews of people did. That’s what the multigod system is, is fuckin’ literally, like, spaceships of fuckin’ people fuckin’ coming in – Buddhists with the golden ships in the ocean and shit, golden islands that just take off in a sea of fire and fuckin’ cause tidal waves that wash out shit. Atlantis is underwater. There’s fuckin’ a manmade docking station under there, where boats would hit and shit like that.

MM: Wait, what?

KK: Atlantis – in between Cuba, like off the Keys, underwater there’s a fuckin’, like, there’s rocks that are set up.

MM: Is that the Bermuda Triangle anywhere in there?

KK: It’s down there, yeah. It’s in that same area. But, fuckin’, ’cause the Keys are here, Cuba’s here, and I think Bermuda’s down here, so the Bermuda Triangle is right here if I’m not mistaken. But, right off the coast, there’s a docking station right there. Like, literally. It was, like, man-placed big rocks, like these carved rocks wedged in between them perfectly, like on a fuckin’—like, lookin’ like a curve. It was perfect. It was just underwater covered in shit. There was no way you can say that was not placed by man. But, if it was placed by man, then it was placed there pre-Ice Age. And if you really think about the cycle of the Earth, we are just coming out of the Ice Age still.

RC: So everything is gonna get real hot, and then everything will eventually just go back to being extremely cold over thousands and millions of years.

MM: You think the water level was lower?

KK: No. I think it is higher.

RC: It was lower, and then, you know, because of the Ice Age, everything froze and then melted, you know what I mean? And waters rise.

MM: Yeah, exactly. That’s what I was thinking. Where there was more space for Atlantis to exist on land.

KK: Yeah. Yeah ’cause pre-Ice Age – think about that.

RC: The ocean is so deep, like, we don’t even know how deep it is.

KK: Like, 80% of the ocean is uncharted.

MM: It’s haunting.

KK: They have no idea what the fuck’s there.

RC: Right? Like, how big is the Earth? [Laughs] What the fuck? Think about that.

KK: We don’t know. Well, think about how much land—we’re fuckin’ huge.

RC: I know, it’s the concept of, like, ya know, spheres.

MM: It’s big. It’s very big. But also not that big in comparison to everything else – in this solar system!

RC: Right? Isn’t that insane? Mind-boggling. We’re so tiny.

KK: Well, fuckin’, they have a machine on Mars right now taking 3D pictures and shit. That shit crazy.

MM: Yeah. Like, what? Like, China, right?

KK: Nah, it’s us I think. It’s us, we have a rover up there.

MM: Oh, I thought China also put something up there.

KK: They might have.

RC: Maybe. They’re not telling us, that’s for sure.

KK: They’re probably lying about it.

MM: I saw some shit, I don’t know.

KK: They’re probably lying about that shit.

RC: They’re somewhere. Like, Pluto, or somethin’. [Laughs]


game of limbo

Poetry

hell is raining on my brain
this pain I hide inside my mind
from all the shells with smiles
fashioned like paintings below
their eyes I stare right through
process thoughts by the thousands
on how I can escape standing still
fill this aching void, this want of change
I want to die every day,
and yet I crave to be alive
like finding light inside the darkest part
down the farthest reaches in the cave
inside my chest

all these speeches given by gurus
paid to talk as though the world
was full of coaches with no team
are as empty as the paychecks paid
by propping up hopeless corpses
clapping at a shill who figured out life
for them so they can go lie down
comfortably in the dirt,
never question life,
grit the teeth
bite the bullet
as the chopping hand of existential dread
cuts cleanly off the head

I would leave the earth
screaming
if I ever died like this
’cause I’ll never be satisfied
with this lead weight tied to my feet
sinking me down towards the vacancy
which waits for me at the core of my grief
and I wish I was just talking ’bout work
nah, this job is just another game of limbo
where I bend backwards ’til my back snaps
and I’m lying paralyzed, writhing,
fighting for another way out.

upside down triangle

Poetry

Took too many waiting for the gravy train now knocking at the door, passed out,
can’t answer, chance passed, now knocking on a coffin top under layers of regret,
young and undone, waging health for that live-fast-die-quick wealth,
not a penny to the name now, wasted cash on sacrificial fame sang in songs
with stitched-lip cadenced praises for the rain man with no prominent reign, man.

..

Satan is a dollar drop away on a stripper’s back,
you know, that’s what I say is a societal trap
preached as empowerment by the powers that be
that got the media as the mouth, young rappers
dancing on the tip of the fork in their tongue
running on last year’s sleep, living their last leg
of a lean dream, easily manipulated by the threat
of wide throats that swallow whole insubordinate
borderline thought provokers opposing the broken
soul fake woke bullshit agenda, leaving nothing
but TV jingle music, and auto-tune wallows of
medically induced comas, and neck-talking
neck tie sex offenders telling you what to do.

.

Conspiring in a five-sided room
with the point facing down,
scale-hearted psychopaths
and their body counts past
the ceiling, sealing deals
with media moguls to make
movies as a mouthpiece
spewing M.I.C. to consume
what we think relates to us,
the market researched trigger
word tapping into intra-mental
memory banks, programming
public acceptance of imperialist
revolution, charging think tanks
down our dendrites so nothing
need not be done when we’re too
drugged or numb to notice violence
wedging its tip like a firearm
nozzle between the eyebrows,
ending a life of worshipping
pornographic mush mouths
lying face down in a vomit pile
behind doors long closed by
the agents who’ve opened them
with big talk looking through
potential, seeing just a vessel
to feed, to purge for propaganda,
to abandon when all innocence
had been vandalized by the guys
seated in the thrones of a pentagram.