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inkyBreath

About Me



GUNCHIN HUSTLE by inkybreath

View my page on Morgan Park Mustangs

My Interests

Music:

Member Since: 6/9/2007
Band Website: http://ilike.com/artist/inky+breath
Band Members:

I have a lot of my work posted on the following site. If you wish to read more of my work, please visit - Scott Larock on Creative-Poems.com. . Enjoy!

*untitled

the feeling
a quiet, restless anger
it remains undescribed to its
root or end

just a brooding

more emotion passed under my breath
than in my words

it is a beautiful day and I am well
surrounded by love and possibility
(and big-headed babies)

fortune flies past and beckons me to take wing

but I keep looking down ...
the earth below is not real enough
how my feet hit the ground does not matter

the way things make sense is more maddening every time

sometimes we walk in the direction that we can see
sometimes we walk blindly
and sometimes we stop

I can't give up ...
I can't give up ...

these words don't have it
they don't know me and they don't help
so much for understanding ...

I sink back into the sun
and the cool breeze
with my eyes closed ...

waiting to connect ...

*in my life

in my life.

in my creation.
in my work.
in my relationships.

all invaded with the same imprint.

i see it
in the poetry and the music...

as clear as a $4 bottle of water.

*digging for Cooper

How am I supposed to sleep at ten,
when the world has barely happened?
And I have just escaped the programming
of daylight

I want to be alone.
A chair, an ashtray, coffee and a scrabble board.
Making words and letting time go.

I want to rise up in magic.
Invisible, floating around and granting wishes
without asking.

(We don’t really know what we want.)

There are so many tricks and dependencies,
fissures and faults that creep into our dialogue.
Making us tell loved ones
lies that amount to shrapnel.

I am broken, too.

Laying awake, watching the wound heal.
There are ointments and pills and meditation
at every turn.

I feel the pain, yet the road is long.
So I grab some water and my bag
and keep moving,
keep digging.

Digging for a boy named Cooper.

*Y. 10.06.07

if you want me
take those dance shoes
out of the closet
and close your eyes:
the long song (three acts)
revolves endlessly:
until our lips meet
as our eyes do:

*untitled - 08.03.07
(uncrafted stream)

one simple step at a time.
a long branch
holds all thats left.
it makes some noise in the wind,
but no kind of shadows.
it only remembers what it knows.

*smoked

smoke still rises and spins

i rise and spin
in this one place
no markers or time
just sounds and people
and sensory exploration

i rise and spin
in this one space
no maps or dial
only the stars dimly blinking
in my own night sky

i rise and spin
with much to face
no right or wrong
simply another day
that means everything

Influences:

move it

taking my glasses off
to write
to think
to make a point
working to the rhythm
the samba
the people
the all day long
the breaking point
when we have used up the day
and there is no time left
to do nothing

when air becomes water
the thickness surrounds
and we swim

whenever the end comes
all glory and darkness
it will begin.

*early morning blues

fine
i don’t know what i am doing
and all the words
work against the flow
i prefer to live in the shadow
right now
moving carefully
not so long ago
i felt freedom
and new beginnings
this moment is cursed
from my core
it is something new
so apparent
and uncontrollable
how many times
can you turn to the sun
and not feel the warmth?

*June 11, 2007 - Lunch Hour

my eyes have not danced over
enough pages
to say that I have lived
as my father has

it was all those words
that gave him the dark fall
from grace

he was able to describe
the deep caverns
in all too great detail

and when it came to stepping
off the shifty waters onto land
he sank into unforgiving earth

my way has stayed me
on hard ground and I keep
to the sky for my dreams

the waters have already warned
of their danger and I obey
the moon tells me I am safe

Sounds Like:

*ghost writer

in the back of my mind
i can see how to pull the knives out
or count them and climb them to freedom

they remain for now
glinting from the sun
or a flashlight

as i am still looking into the facts
trying to uncover the artful denial
of a rewritten past

*Creations Coffee House - 1999

... you all for me and us
bend and spend a tattered trust
paint each others pain benign
ferment our blood and tears to wine

and so, without alas
I raise my glass
A toast ...

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And, one of my favorite poets, period. Rives.

Rives Poem: Controlling Internet

Add to My Profile | More Videos

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I am so happy to have found Mr. Talaam Acey. Please visit his site. His voice is so clear and strong.

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Powerful voices all around! Rich Ferguson brings it.

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Okay, now - seriously - visit CLIMBINGPOETREE on MySpace or climbingpoetree.com. These two women are supremely talented and spreading it into all fields. They are working hard to our benefit. On top of all of that, their poetry/music is absolutely uplifting. Video links are down for now.

Record Label: Unsigned

My Blog

j.1.08.

so, we let go now?make love & war ...smile pretty for the camera?unimportant news flash ...vote with your heart?more tech to talk ...patrol personal borders?don't be afraid ...will god survive?the...
Posted by on Tue, 01 Jan 2008 01:23:00 GMT

more than football

A sunday that will never last long enough.It offers just a breath.One moment to look over my shoulder.I am certainly scared.There are no shade trees on this way,And walking soft has run its course.The...
Posted by on Sun, 23 Dec 2007 16:39:00 GMT

right turn: Good Evening , Thursday, Dec. 6

i want to say something. to reach out of the abstract.and nail down a hard lesson. bam.bam.bam.to speak clearly. uninterrupted. no traces of "like" or "um" or "uh".one long breath on stage tonight.yet...
Posted by on Wed, 05 Dec 2007 22:20:00 GMT

exercise in don't stop typing

you don't know this any better than i do that people just like to be liked and love to be hated it makes it so much easier to know what to expect every day and it feels so good to have the story follo...
Posted by on Fri, 27 Jul 2007 21:48:00 GMT

listening to climbingpoetree.com - go right now

one ...more reminder.an instinct of interchangeable language.this duet ...has come in real time.they have translatedseed into stalk.walked the talk to the star-skysoothe crafted voicesbrought into the...
Posted by on Thu, 21 Jun 2007 19:03:00 GMT

people

i watch her inside the blue mooninhale shapeshifters of smokenothing moves in this spacebut her eyes and the dancing mystic
Posted by on Fri, 15 Jun 2007 20:02:00 GMT