Joel Weston from MACAFRAMA on Vimeo.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
waky waky eggz n' baky
I hold my chalice to the spout poking out of your brain
while our words dance like earthworms trying to get out of the rain,
and I will butcher your judgments, cut them in two
because i may be nocturnal, but so are you
and I may be indolent at times, but hey, my pig flew!
If you learn to transform your choler, you will go far.
If you cannot put down a bottle, you belong in the bar!
Our mind's are busy, intractable areas.
They house negative and positive thoughts and everything in between.
while our words dance like earthworms trying to get out of the rain,
and I will butcher your judgments, cut them in two
because i may be nocturnal, but so are you
and I may be indolent at times, but hey, my pig flew!
If you learn to transform your choler, you will go far.
If you cannot put down a bottle, you belong in the bar!
Our mind's are busy, intractable areas.
They house negative and positive thoughts and everything in between.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
NO YES NO YES
WHEN THEY LOOKED AT THE POSITION THEY WERE IN, THE BUBBLES ROSE TO THE TOP OF THE POT AND NO ONE WAS GOING TO CLEAN UP AFTER THEM!
THE CHOICE TO TRANSCEND OR TO LOVE OR TO HATE OR TO SLEEP OR TO GO SEE A PLAY. GO TO COLLEGE. FIX THINGS. GET TO WORK. THANK YOU VERY MUCH. I TOOK A CLASS ONCE CALLED "PARALLEL RELATIONS OF SEXUAL SARCASMS"
OH LOOK AT THIS GUY, HE CAN PLAY THE PIANO! NO BUT SERIOUSLY, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN?
DO YOU LIKE MUSIC? DO YOU LIKE ART? DO YOU LIKE STOP SIGNS? ROAD BLOCKS? GREEN LIGHTS? POST CARDS? VHS TAPES? DUDES? GALS? DORKS? HEAVY MACHINERY? IT'S A;; PART OF LIFE MY FRIEND.
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THE CARPET HERE IS SOFT ON MY TOES, BUT MY TOES ARE ALWAYS VERY COLD.
AS PEOPLE GET OLD THEY BREAK THE MOLD MAKE THE FOLD AND WALK AROUND AND DO WHAT THEY'RE TOLD.
I AM A CAT AND I WILL SCRATCH YOU.
IF YOU TRY TO RUN, I WILL CATCH YOU.
BIG HOUSES CONTAIN BIG SECRETS.
DO NOT PUT A LABEL ON ME!
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FREEZE! PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR! GO FUCK YOURSELF WHILE YOU PULL OUT YOUR HAIR!
I'M SOAKING WET AND READY FOR MORE. LIFE CAN BE FUN OR LIFE CAN BE A BORE?
I MAKE THE LAWS HERE GOD DAMMIT.
THE CHOICE TO TRANSCEND OR TO LOVE OR TO HATE OR TO SLEEP OR TO GO SEE A PLAY. GO TO COLLEGE. FIX THINGS. GET TO WORK. THANK YOU VERY MUCH. I TOOK A CLASS ONCE CALLED "PARALLEL RELATIONS OF SEXUAL SARCASMS"
OH LOOK AT THIS GUY, HE CAN PLAY THE PIANO! NO BUT SERIOUSLY, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN?
DO YOU LIKE MUSIC? DO YOU LIKE ART? DO YOU LIKE STOP SIGNS? ROAD BLOCKS? GREEN LIGHTS? POST CARDS? VHS TAPES? DUDES? GALS? DORKS? HEAVY MACHINERY? IT'S A;; PART OF LIFE MY FRIEND.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE CARPET HERE IS SOFT ON MY TOES, BUT MY TOES ARE ALWAYS VERY COLD.
AS PEOPLE GET OLD THEY BREAK THE MOLD MAKE THE FOLD AND WALK AROUND AND DO WHAT THEY'RE TOLD.
I AM A CAT AND I WILL SCRATCH YOU.
IF YOU TRY TO RUN, I WILL CATCH YOU.
BIG HOUSES CONTAIN BIG SECRETS.
DO NOT PUT A LABEL ON ME!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
FREEZE! PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR! GO FUCK YOURSELF WHILE YOU PULL OUT YOUR HAIR!
I'M SOAKING WET AND READY FOR MORE. LIFE CAN BE FUN OR LIFE CAN BE A BORE?
I MAKE THE LAWS HERE GOD DAMMIT.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
LATE NIGHTS LEADING TO DEEP SLEEP
MILES FROM HOME, MAKING GOOD TIME.
TRYING AND SUCCEEDING TO COUGH UP MY SLIME.
READING BOOKS TO STAY AWAKE AND READING BOOKS TO FALL ASLEEP,
SOME NIGHTS I FEEL SO NORMAL AND SOME I FEEL LIKE A CREEP.
I USED TO THINK THAT MY TIME WAS LIMITED BUT NOW I KNOW THAT TIME IS ALL I HAVE,
I HAVE A LOT TO GIVE AND THERE IS A LOT TO GAIN,
AND JUST BECAUSE IT HURTS, THAT DOES NOT MAKE IT PAIN.
THE ROOM IS FILLING UP WITH SMOKE AND MY MIND IS ELSEWHERE.
THE NOTES FROM THE MAN'S GUITAR ARE SCRAPING AT MY BRAIN.
LIKE A RAKE ON THE NAKED PAVEMENT.
I AM ENJOYING THE BEAUTIFUL SKY EVERYDAY WHILE I AM HERE,
AND MAKING SURE NOT TO SHY AWAY FROM THE THINGS I FEAR.
TODAY THE WIND BLEW WHAT LITTLE HAIR I HAVE TO THE SIDE,
THE HAIR WAS FLOWING LIKE A RIVER, AN ICE COLD RIVER.
I HELD MY BREATH.............
WAS I BEING WATCHED? I KNEW I SHOULD OPEN MY EYES.
I WISH I WOULD HAVE SEEN IT COMING, BUT MY EYES WOULD NOT OPEN.
I COULD FEEL IT THOUGH, COMING DIRECTLY TOWARDS ME TO STEAL MY THOUGHTS.
NO....WAIT, IT WAS LOOKING FOR SOMETHING. BUT WHAT?
"AM I DREAMING"
THE THOUGHT WAS ONE OFTEN TOSSED AROUND IN HIS PITIFUL BRAIN.
HE WORE A WHITE ROBE AND RODE A HORSE DOWN THE ROAD.
HE DRANK A HEAVY LOAD OF WHATEVER WAS IN HIS BOTTLE.
HE REACHED INTO THE SKY AND CLASPED TIGHTLY ONTO THE THROTTLE.
HIS EYEBROWS WERE DARK AND THICK AND PRETTY DISPLEASING TO LOOK AT.
HE WAS STRONG, BUT NOT MENTALLY. ONLY PHYSICALLY.
HIS SKIN WAS OLD AND LEATHERY, LIKE THAT OF FATHER TIME HIMSELF.
TIME HAD PLAYED IT'S VICIOUS ROLE IN MAKING HIM A CRUDE OLD MAN.
GRAVITY HAD BEEN BUSY TOO, SHOWING THE MAN'S NEIGHBORS JUST HOW SAGGY AN OLD WRETCHED FACE COULD GET.
HE ATE OFTEN AND ATE LIKE A GENTLEMAN.
HIS WIFE HAD DIED IN A CAR ACCIDENT YEARS BEFORE AND HE HAD TURNED TO WHISKEY TO NUMB HIS BRAIN.
UNABLE TO EVER FLUSH HER OUT, HE WOULD DRINK UNTIL HE SWELLED UP LIKE A HUGE, STINKY BLIMP EVERY NIGHT. HIS SMILE TURNED TO A FROWN AND HIS BOTTLE FELL TO THE GROUND AND IT WAS TIME FOR SLEEP.
THAT WAS ALL IN HIS PAST. THESE DAYS, HE WALKED HIS DOG OR RE-READ THE PAPER TO KILL THE TIME, STAYING OCCUPIED BEFORE HE DIED OR UNTIL HE CRIED AND HE PRIED AND PRIED.
HE WOULD PICK AND PRY AT HIS DREAMS, TRYING TO MAKE SENSE OF THEM.
HE WOKE UP EVERY NIGHT TO PEE AND LET HIS DOG OUT TO PEE.
TRYING AND SUCCEEDING TO COUGH UP MY SLIME.
READING BOOKS TO STAY AWAKE AND READING BOOKS TO FALL ASLEEP,
SOME NIGHTS I FEEL SO NORMAL AND SOME I FEEL LIKE A CREEP.
I USED TO THINK THAT MY TIME WAS LIMITED BUT NOW I KNOW THAT TIME IS ALL I HAVE,
I HAVE A LOT TO GIVE AND THERE IS A LOT TO GAIN,
AND JUST BECAUSE IT HURTS, THAT DOES NOT MAKE IT PAIN.
THE ROOM IS FILLING UP WITH SMOKE AND MY MIND IS ELSEWHERE.
THE NOTES FROM THE MAN'S GUITAR ARE SCRAPING AT MY BRAIN.
LIKE A RAKE ON THE NAKED PAVEMENT.
I AM ENJOYING THE BEAUTIFUL SKY EVERYDAY WHILE I AM HERE,
AND MAKING SURE NOT TO SHY AWAY FROM THE THINGS I FEAR.
TODAY THE WIND BLEW WHAT LITTLE HAIR I HAVE TO THE SIDE,
THE HAIR WAS FLOWING LIKE A RIVER, AN ICE COLD RIVER.
I HELD MY BREATH.............
WAS I BEING WATCHED? I KNEW I SHOULD OPEN MY EYES.
I WISH I WOULD HAVE SEEN IT COMING, BUT MY EYES WOULD NOT OPEN.
I COULD FEEL IT THOUGH, COMING DIRECTLY TOWARDS ME TO STEAL MY THOUGHTS.
NO....WAIT, IT WAS LOOKING FOR SOMETHING. BUT WHAT?
"AM I DREAMING"
THE THOUGHT WAS ONE OFTEN TOSSED AROUND IN HIS PITIFUL BRAIN.
HE WORE A WHITE ROBE AND RODE A HORSE DOWN THE ROAD.
HE DRANK A HEAVY LOAD OF WHATEVER WAS IN HIS BOTTLE.
HE REACHED INTO THE SKY AND CLASPED TIGHTLY ONTO THE THROTTLE.
HIS EYEBROWS WERE DARK AND THICK AND PRETTY DISPLEASING TO LOOK AT.
HE WAS STRONG, BUT NOT MENTALLY. ONLY PHYSICALLY.
HIS SKIN WAS OLD AND LEATHERY, LIKE THAT OF FATHER TIME HIMSELF.
TIME HAD PLAYED IT'S VICIOUS ROLE IN MAKING HIM A CRUDE OLD MAN.
GRAVITY HAD BEEN BUSY TOO, SHOWING THE MAN'S NEIGHBORS JUST HOW SAGGY AN OLD WRETCHED FACE COULD GET.
HE ATE OFTEN AND ATE LIKE A GENTLEMAN.
HIS WIFE HAD DIED IN A CAR ACCIDENT YEARS BEFORE AND HE HAD TURNED TO WHISKEY TO NUMB HIS BRAIN.
UNABLE TO EVER FLUSH HER OUT, HE WOULD DRINK UNTIL HE SWELLED UP LIKE A HUGE, STINKY BLIMP EVERY NIGHT. HIS SMILE TURNED TO A FROWN AND HIS BOTTLE FELL TO THE GROUND AND IT WAS TIME FOR SLEEP.
THAT WAS ALL IN HIS PAST. THESE DAYS, HE WALKED HIS DOG OR RE-READ THE PAPER TO KILL THE TIME, STAYING OCCUPIED BEFORE HE DIED OR UNTIL HE CRIED AND HE PRIED AND PRIED.
HE WOULD PICK AND PRY AT HIS DREAMS, TRYING TO MAKE SENSE OF THEM.
HE WOKE UP EVERY NIGHT TO PEE AND LET HIS DOG OUT TO PEE.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
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