Words To Touch The Sky

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

2012-01-21T05:22:00.000-08:00

Family, please don't read too much into this. I'm just thinking out-loud, and you know me. But if you do decide to go there and read this, I'm open to whatever you want to discuss regarding this entry.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Really, what the fuck is on my mind

It seems that time

Is running thin and my twin

Has nothing to say.

OR DOPPLEGANGER.

For the fangs of such has not sucked enough blood.

It's Bloodtose intolerant.

like Lactose

without the messy DNA.

I guess too much blood makes it sick

But not in the

Traditional way.

Sick to their stomachs

In the way that any human being would be

Regarding the segregation of any human
into a group and casting judgements.

My Fathers is a preacher,

So judgements are something

That allows for one’s survival.

Thank God for a father that

Understood that although we all judge,

Understanding the difference

Between what we are taught to question

And actually seeing with one’s eyes,

Hearing with one’s ears,

And feeling with one’s touch

Will get us as a society

To 50 percent of our goal.

The other 50%

Is found in faith.

So save your questions

Unless you know 100%

Of everything.

Which means you have 100%

Access to your brain.

BECAUSE YOU KNOW EVERYTHING.

BUT NO ONE DOES, SO NO ONE CAN.

IF ITS POSSIBLE,

PLEASE, CAST THE FIRST STONE.

The First day of the Year 2012

2012-01-01T02:52:00.000-08:00

The First day of the Year 2012

Ready or not

Here I come, come

And come again

Into the light

The bright friend

Who has tried to position

Itself on a the right path

And oh, how I’ve stumbled,

And caught the world wrath.

But I press on

Or press play on recorded

Messages I locked away in my minds

Vault.

So on this first day

Who do I allow to pour salt

In this wound of mine?

Knowing the need for change

Is not the same as excepting it.

Like pacing when you should sit.

Or swallowing judgment

When you should spit,

Age is what seems to be the key,

A factor that coaxes me to ponder on

The voice of my father as he teached.

A recording

Now

Allows itself to surface

And the words are finally spoken.

“You think you have the world

In the palm of your Hand,

But it’s bigger.

And God is Bigger than the world.”

So where am I positioned in this Great master-plan?

I hear but not find a place

Because I’m not the normal fan.

But this is okay

For my words still have the power to play

Melodies from Heaven

In your ears,

Through your own voice

Throughout our years.

Fear is still apparent in

Every corner of the mind

But recognizing this

I refuse to allow that nerve on my spine

To Hinder growth.

I am ready,

Ready to not come

And be where you want me to be

But to land

Where it best suits me.

By another Poet Elias Tañedo Manzur

2012-01-01T01:30:00.000-08:00

I live in a "world" that judges the color of a teachers skin

why can we not look past,

or simply discard the being and find the true word(s)

we make rich and famous the drunken idiot jester in a attempt to find,

a king we kill in the alley way with our ignorance knife,

we stab thinking (over comb,laugh)stab (over comb, laugh) stab,

and we over comb .... nothing,

we see the shore and swim to get closer in another failed attempt at success....

dumb be praised,

smart be bitten,torn,shoved aside!

me and what came to pass in my mind after reading what you wrote!

My Alter-ego: Poetry

2011-08-19T03:05:00.000-07:00

It seems

I am taste testing notes in the

air.

This Jazz shit

replaces my minds hypothesis.

It takes you to a place

outside the space

that a box could encompass.

But where do you go from there?

Money is not the objective of such a display,

So intentions must be pure

when taking up this cross.

It seems that what

Umi Says

is the only thing that reaches me

in such a state.

Please "shine your light on the world,

Shine your light for the world to see."

For I see

that music and creativity can

co-habitate on the same plane.

And in essence

works best together

like a marriage.

So with that being said

I promise to never forsake

thee.

I want to be the man

who treats you like the women you are

Poetry.....

Embracing Future and Past Perception

2011-06-29T22:57:00.000-07:00

Embracing Future and Past Perception

My mind floats on bended echoes

that chases screams in the stillness of the night.

Still this lies incomprehensible for my

words to translate from my brain to my mouth.

My diction seems to be stuck on a river

of friction that leads from north to south.

Transporting my mind frame back to the

days of civil war,

Where slavery was the tipping point.

But it's 2009 and my point

Is not to tip-toe around the issues of yesterday,

Because slavery still lives today.

It continues to fester in our minds,

Allowing our thoughts to bind our spirit

And imprison our ambition.

The mission should be to escape

The hard knock non-fiction of the place in which

We were raised and filter out the

Outside polluted friction that

Blocks your thoughts towards progress.

There is truth in the

Transparency of life,

You just have to look.

Look to have more than life gives you,

For we are the Presidents of our destinies.

The destiny of a people that lies

In the present and the future.

Separate But Equal

2011-03-23T02:38:00.000-07:00

Separate But Equal

It is

either perception or regurgitation

of another's

that get us to our final destination.

A narration can be controlled by many

but only one can put a period

at the end of the period

when life runs out of your body.

And because it's about

the journey and not the destination

what is your soundtrack

to life?

Have you singled out

one genre,

because that is who you feel you are?

Or does your life

and strife

take twist and turns

as mine does?

Not allowing me to box myself in,

only to understand that

each are different

and being okay with all

similar pieces creating the whole.

Just understanding this

bold

tally or toll

pays for itself

in the battle between

falling in line or

being separate but equal

for we all are.......

2011-03-03T02:44:00.000-08:00

Self vs. Corporate

Sometimes shit just rolls down

But to frown is a repellent,

At least in my head.

But whether in my head

Or in my body

I can’t submit to the shit.

I am a person

Who breathes and talks in reality

But what’s your reality?

I want to know the source

And whether it’s ok for you to

Embrace such a

Hypocritical establishment.

I’ve made my decision.

1st day of 2011

2011-01-09T04:20:00.000-08:00

Sorry, I forgot to post this on the 1st, like i did last year.

1^st day of 2011

Crazy unconsciousness

Teams up with an innate

Ferociouness.

The hunger inside has reached its boiling point

So my mind points in the direction

Of its new uncharted indiscretion.

Seeing through the blinders

I find her.

Comfortable and ready for action

But my re-action to body language

Does not follow suit of the regulars.

Our worlds are not paralleled

A fairy-tell I realized a long time ago

Wasn’t true.

But truth is situated in the fact

That I see past my initial goals to my future.

No longer do I live for the day

But I play with the fact that

I’ve survived for a reason.

And I would find it treasoness

To not indulge in this revelation.

For its translations has allowed

My soul to speak different languages.

A bi or tri lingual monster

Who’s goal Is to surpass

His predasseors and learn the language

Of a quiet space.

For in this situation

The race has been won by the tourtoise

Sitting there

Just embracing the journey and learning how to better

Fulfill the future.

My dilemma

2010-11-11T01:59:00.000-08:00

My dilemma

How do I get from me

To Ellison?

His writing

Was so tighten

In its structure.

How the hell do I reach that plateau

Without losing the academic

Prowess.

Feeling and energy of such art is my cross to bare.

Because it lies in contrary to

Academic structure.

To me the music

In literature is found in Ralph Ellison writings.

If I had been able to do anything but write

I would be a musician.

A physician of notes

That carried boats and boats

Across the river

To deliver its message upon the

Banks of the big city.

Each's own Path To Happiness

2010-10-04T02:02:00.000-07:00

Its true that each piece

pieces together puzzles

left behind

after life pisses

them out

all over the population

collective perspective.

"I just want to live"

says the defendant in this trial

of tribulations.

But that statement gets lost

or tossed

in the hustle, bustle of

life's situation

or redundant

masturbation.

Satisfaction should not be quick,

it should be long-lived.

It should be in every breath

every note,

every word,

every Love.

The Base of your Foundation

2010-08-30T00:51:00.000-07:00

To kill a mockingbird

these talking 11 herbs

and spices

Entices my hunger

for transparency in

life trials.

Spoken words climbing up

the slippery slope of false pretenses

my sense reacts

since yours does not.

Maybe that is why each perspective is

different.

Just as long as the true

few who see the big picture

understand that the switch hitter

usually find themselves

with no team to play for.

Your reflection

is not what you saw before,

before the contradictions

of contrary quotable's

shook your foundation

the base that was based

upon a slippery slope fruitless

soil.

Mental Tangent

2010-08-13T22:20:00.000-07:00

Mental Tangent

Its a must

that you trust

the fact the when backs are against

the wall, the truisms of each nature's ideology

will emerge.

Allowing this small part of a personality

to control the larger

is the slippery-slope that us

as human beings have been struggling with throughout

evolution.

So, so called solution have been concocted

by men to structure life

with such paths in which

to reach enlightenment.

Solution are not man-made,

It's higher.

To illustrate the big picture

or explain the difference between

each fixture of philosophy,

one must first grasp

the difference between religion and spirituality,

then next step is understanding

where your personal destination lies.

Trying does nothing

but pull you into a cycle of never

completing,

just the juggling of many eggs

without cooking your first omelet.

'I just want to live'

is not sufficient anymore.

And live to do what?

Exist?

Well, choice is all we have
and whatever your decision is

the consequence sinks or swims

in the waters of personal fulfillment.

No scapegoating per the

outcomes

Only the standing on top

of each damn we construct

and finding out if the holes

are small enough to

not drown one in the vast waters of life.

Learning on the fly

2010-08-12T02:28:00.000-07:00

I taste life

as I race life.

Strife is only a word

to curb one's enthusiasm.

So why can't I exhale?

I inhale enough for the masses,

and everyone has something to say,

but is listening,

at times when you need to speak up,

TOO MUCH LISTENING.

When is it right to speak,

and suppress the leak

of the person,

who is

at that moment releasing

Carbon from their mouth

in order to instruct

and choke the life out of your creativity.

When does time and independence meet?

Hopefully not permiting

defeat

to rear it's ugly head up into the mix.

For then the infection spreads

throughout your body,

mind,

spirit and inevitable your identity.

It is that thief in the night

that plagues us all

but knowing yourself is knowing when

to fall to the waste-side of that road

and form your own path

paved by uniqueness and creativity.

Dreams and Aspirations

2010-08-09T01:52:00.000-07:00

What gets me

is the way the vibe

tempts me

into new proclamations.

I proclaim that this

ride has not settled

into comfortability.

I only find the ability

of each bump to do

nothing more than act as

a stepping stone to the

light.

The light at the end

of all of our journeys.

You know the

place

deep down where we

spend all our excess

energy trying to convince ourselves

that we are not worthy.

I am

and I now stand firm

to be

beat down by any

persons perspectives.

Fear is not an option,

for I just try to understand

the source.

Who is the true person

who intends to distort my focus.

friend or foe

it is a battle that we all must

fight and differentiate between.

Constructive is okay

but understanding the difference

between that

and what is meant to

construct an uncrossable

bridge between a person and their aspirations

is hard.

No answers lie

in the text of this ramble

but the truth lies in each person.

Dig deep and find your truth,

it starts with analyzing oneself.

Destination Paved By this Man

2010-05-25T01:49:00.000-07:00

Trying to find the

destinations in which tedious

talkative transvestites

are in the midst

of taking me.

What destination is the pendulum

going to swing next

can I text you the answer

or is it against the rules

Of engagement.

For my thoughts tend to refocus

to engage the mind and spirit,

the car in which I steer

it can be out of focus

for many to see coming,

but I assure you it's there.

Clothes make the man,

so they say,

but I say

how the clothes

shall tailor to me.

I am a man

hear me roar,

but understanding

that when I speak up,

my awareness of the consequences

have already peaked.

I accept my bark, bite and

any confrontational

altercations that they generate

That is why I call myself MAN.

Distraction vs. Destination

2010-05-16T02:05:00.000-07:00

days and days

of phrased praise.

One understands words

but sometimes the meaning

escapes the natural curve

of reality.

I just try to walk and

not stumble off the

path of righteousness.

But buses and buses

of people keep

side-swiping me

spinning my focus in a different

direction from the

end of this journey.

the choice,

though,

is mine,

for by allowing the

distraction of others directions

to intertwine with my mind

fault lies within this spine.

It is mine to grasp and hold

onto,

for every wasted distraction

gives me more

clarity to finish this journey

when hurdles are passed

and the path

allows my vision to once more grasp.

A quick release from the brain

2010-04-26T00:21:00.000-07:00

It seems

that my dreams have

become a parallel

track.

I stay still waiting for

the next realm of

reality to rear it's ugly head.

Instead there is a dead

kind of perspective

that puts my mind to

a future dread.

My thoughts have been tortured.

my fortune sits on the outskirts of

my being,

Finally seeing things

for how they should be.

Finally planting a tree of thought

who's roots

spread throughout

mother nature,

supplying a new foundation of

new thought throughout the nation.

What Glissens doesn't always Glow

2010-04-22T00:58:00.001-07:00

It shimmers like tiny little diamonds

being mulnipulated by suns kisses,

oh how wet it is.

Wrap yourself around the world

with love so the lands can flourish as proof.

The sands of time are plentiful here,

in my quiet space.

But placed outside this bubble

children make their presence known.

It is shown more

blatantly to those

without mini-me's running around.

What a difference a day makes
Or should I say night?

For, that is when the freaks come out

to sip on dark stouts of

beer.

And get drunk enough

to blame all value driven decisions

on the goose.

Who talks to his cousin

the stork,
and enlightens him

to deliver the news in

nine months.

I feel like Warren G

"Can you see what I see?"

And I see that my sour

disposition

keeps me on the outside position

of societies conformist addiction.

Sometimes the awareness

of such contradictions

allow for growth.

Between a Rock and Hard Place

2010-04-01T01:24:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it feel like

the smothering of corruption

has no end.

Or no friends,

for the trust is gone

and the spawn from two

cut throats cannot exist.

I resist to go to far off this cliff

or slippery slope for the rope has gotten

too narrow and seemly to

support my weight.

Yes, because,

plates I've ate

and satisfaction comes to the

hare.

Daring not to partake in desert

for it

does not preserve our

light at the end of

the tunnel.

And yet I see that

our nations tunnel

is going from a sphere

to a box.

But my soul will not let you

box me in

for I'm an Individual.

So your residual accountability

lies within the text

who's purpose is to put

you in between a place of

mental security and being emotionally

vexed.

YOU FIGURE OUT THE REST.

John Coltrane

2010-02-08T01:19:00.000-08:00

These cold-trains

of thoughts

causes conniption fits

across my cerebral cortex.

I wish to lie down

in the vortex

of warm actions.

Contractions from unspoken

verbal interactions

derived from venus's

flytrap.

Can you feel the rhythm

of the night,

the nights twilight

has burned a hole

into the soles of my feet.

I keep tapping,

enjoying the flow

of fluidity from the Sex.

I mean Sax,

for it reaches to such a heights and stays there .

NYC Experience

2010-02-01T23:15:00.000-08:00

Conceptual rhythms oppose each other

through this atmospheric communication

in which

all walks are conditioned.

But there's friction in these steps,

steps that are paced a little

too close together.

A war of intelligence,

at odds,

but it's important to continue

to go through the motions.

Over-whelming is this

city within a city.

No concrete should

elude to the idea that it is

possible to confine these differences.

I've seen so much now

embracing everything and nothing

at all.

I keep my eyes on the prize.

But fires surrounded by

tenderness continues to rise.

And this great stature

I have risen to,

has started to decline

with every glance.

So, yes

this perimeter is trying to capture

My vision.

These four angles of indecision

allow

Every angle in this box

to in finality

double my sentence

to 90 years

of a narrow point of view.

Worlds of Creativity Seem bigger than the Mind

2010-01-26T03:05:00.000-08:00

Sounds of gray

move through my atmosphere,

which I fear translates into music,

but no words.

Whispers,

only of notes that leaves

its mark on my thoughts.

I bought wine in order

to translate them.

The jazz had changed my focus

I wanted to feel my space

like locusts.

And touch the clouds.

I just wanted to understand how

it feels to cry,

and fly higher than I expected.

But the words never get me there,

So now,

I spare none,

They run along this sentence

with reckless abandonment,

opposing all editors,

or judgments in general.

I am now just trying to translate

and condense onto a plate

what goes on

into the head of a man

trying to live and love life's

changes in all it's forms.

Spirituality vs. The World

2010-01-26T02:18:00.000-08:00

Just a spoon full

of sugar helps the medicine go down.

But the town

or temple in which I call my body

cannot digest this temporary

cure.

While intentions may be pure,

I fear that this overshadowed

sweetness is just a bandaid

to filter or air-raid

the total truth that

spills from my mind.

I find that words

coming from you,

trying to sell me a dream

seems far from

my state

of mind's place

in this debate of world versus

spirituality.

I guess

as of late, my perception

relies on actions instead of words.

I'm lie tired

of linguistic patterns urging me this way or that.

Facts should swim in

Holy Water.

But how Holy is this Water.

I can't call it,

It's up to you to fall into it

and see where your truth lies.

The surprise of this all

is to be human

is to be different,

So understand that truth,

and make a choice.

Opinions of others will not Suffocate Me

2010-01-10T04:28:00.000-08:00

Pissing in piss poor

potholes of indecision

is what every word that

biased intellect did.

So I reflect on times

when my temperature was

tip-toeing on the

line between hot and cold.

A time when thought

was an absolute conclusion.

Not a boat caught in

a brain-storm

of second thinking.

I know there's

a light-house to

bring me to shore.

An idealistic light-bulb

constantly abright.

Not flickering

because the surrounding

Ideas are taking it's energy.

I will stand alone

in the atonement of these ideals.

Hills of public opinion

will not hold sway

on future days of my

renewed prospective.

But I will listen

for without new conversations

can one progress past their own nose.

New Years 2010

2010-01-01T00:32:00.000-08:00

My taste buds are tickled

by transparent bubbles

bursting and oozing

its farewell to last year,

promising a better one to come.

The Prosecco continues

its journey down my throat,

allowing me to feel everything.

My senses welcome you,

new dawn,

So allow the earth

and everyone on it to

soak you up.

But while the world

enjoys the moment

my mind races past

to the future.

The questions will be

answered eventually,

and eventually these

answered questions will leave me

understanding that with contentment

there is no progression.

Arguing With Oneself

2009-12-29T00:53:00.000-08:00

Understanding that time moves

through truths of

an unkind nature,

does the Nurtures aspect on

early childhood

ring so true

in the blue haze

of remnants caused

by purple kush.

I think not,

for I, myself sought to

look into the crystal ball

of true life

in order to understand

the grand plan of this maker we speak about.

A closed mind learns nothing

but an open mind

carries with it the inevitability

of vulnerablility.

You pick your journey

and tell me how it ends,

for I chose the latter

and will spend my days

analyzing the chatter

of walls.

If they could speak.

Random Thoughts Put Down on Paper

2009-12-22T01:01:00.000-08:00

Momentary Distractions

2009-12-20T23:14:00.000-08:00

My mind races

in such quiet spaces.

Placed between this rock

and whatever hard anecdote

is supposed

to come next.

Flex your science all over

my line of site.

A site for sore eyes,

a prize of over-shadowing size,

to head my social enterprise.

Potentially able to beat

the front of line.

But right now I'm

interested in your back.

And how the curves

leave lasting impressions

so sublime.

Although my physical reaction

has gained traction in my after thoughts,

my forethoughts continue

unmoved by its goal.

A role situated in the sea

of ambition,

allowing all future decisions

to climb out of the barrel of

Restrictions.

Some thought on Los Angeles

2009-12-15T03:25:00.000-08:00

Cars, cars, cars, and all wanting to be a star. They look up and see what is not true, but a fascade. Sticking and moving through what is not even tangible. The beat of the street hits hard. Composing its own type of symphony. Sounds a little different from the one’s up on blueberry hill. And all tat surrounds are the hypocrisies of war with tyrants sending out there minions with sign of REAL HEROES ARE WAR REGISTERS. What this establishment has failed to grasp is that an internal war has been brewing for years. Tap the spine and the nerves will react. Bright light and sleepless nights of this big bang theory, that is not going to hit over seas but right in our backyard. With tidbits of change that could have happened. Baby step is all that was needed.

Mind Tricks

2009-12-15T03:10:00.000-08:00

No, no, don’t look up, stay focused. You’re a writer, your mind is supposed to always being wading in the deep waters of complexity. I said don’t look up! Cause if you catch a glimpse of what also has their eyes pinpointed on you, the depth you so pride yourself on, will leap right out of the window, forcing your mental suicide. Keep your wits about you. You’re a genious, you know that. Try to forget this present world of low rise pants, thongs, oh how I love thongs….I I mean I hate them they are the Achilles heel of the average artist, and I am not the average, try and remember times of easier days when you would just walk with calculated steps, not wanting to walk along the pavements imperfections. Hearing old school serenades from the kids in your neighborhood, “step on a crack, break your mother’s back.” Remember those days, I know you remember, you can’t escape your past because it is the cause for your depth, which is about to be tested once again, here she comes, don’t look at her in the eyes. I know, I know, you feel like you can feel her eyes on you. Your sitting there with your head down trying to show some restraint, and you keep asking yourself why. Why not look up and meet her half way, and you figure, It’s so easy just to justify some excuse in which to meet her halfway on this road of visual communication. Why not, and the reason I tell you, you wont do it because you are stronger than that. Just think about it, how far will you fall back in this rat race if you gave in? Not being tough enough to reject eye contact with one woman. What does this say about you as an artist? That you may end up like all those other writers who were brilliant, but didn’t proceed forward because their kryptonite allowed them not to be strong enough in the mind to surpass former predecessors. Yeah I see you looking at me. Don’t wonder who I am, ask. Theres no time for being scared or polite. If you want to know just ask. I’m not bashful so why should you be. Just put down the subject and get up, walk your paranoid ass over here and look at me face to face, and ask. It was such a beautiful day from dawn to dusk, it seemed as if the sun kissed the horizon, it was so warm. It then began to surround every desire that massaged my scalp, leaving its mark on today’s delirium. And as I walked down the spine of San Jose where city hall lies, my eyes reflect the images of past present and future. Past is where I will start. I see through eyes of unfolded dreams. I see what they see, and yes I repeated myself, and I’ll do it again, I see though their eyes because, they allow me to swallow their words whole and regurgitate them on all that may be in search for the same thing I am. The What rotates this wheel of free thought, cause in the opinions of the government its never really free. Oh there I go rambling again.