Writings: ‘Afro-isms’!

‘Afro-isms’!
GAS, GRASS or ASPIRIN:
Nobody Rides for Free.
Edited by W.Marmoset Yarn

There is nothing that a woman on your face can’t cure.

We cannot always control the tides that we command.
But we can learn to command chaos, the father of beauty.

History is an ongoing conversation
And always available for negotiation.

Emotional drama competes with our lives & liberty and is best to avoid when possible,
And yet artists would have no basis of creation without it.
Dichotomy is the law.

FORESHADOWING, OR BACKLIGHTING?
The budget was small, so the director had to choose.

Society profits best by providing the remedies for the pain that it creates.

Never trust a free man. Your trust might remind him that he were once a slave and depended on,
And this might cause him to break his vow and flee.
Once free, a mercenary
& never a missionary.

It is always a blessing to accomplish, more than you achieve.

We go furthest when we go within, there’s lots of room to roam.

COME TO THE EDGE! There are fewer people and a lot more space to yourself.
The Mainstream is where people get trampled upon and wasted.
Then again, with balls, the Mainstream is where YOU put it.
It is not fixed but mutable, as fish & adventurers are.

THIS IS THE DAY OF THE EXPANDING MAN*.
All categories are arbitrary and changeable. NO MUSIC GENRE IS FINISHED,
but still in a state of flux as they continue to write & expand themselves.
We do not tell the music what IT is, we listen to its spirit and let it tell US
Or we are charlatans & fakes.
Of which we do not need more of.
Music cannot afford to stop growing as a favor to business interests.
It will take you along for the ride, but IT WILL NOT STOP FOR YOU, while you count your coins
And subdue its power to the gaining of more coins only and the oppression of human consciousness.
 
Money is not a problem, but when it fucks with righteousness, it is.
‘Righteous Intent’ always wins in the end.
Without intervention, RISING IS OUR NATURAL STATE.
We are yeast, at least.
 
*STEELY DAN

FREEDOM Is Not A Given & Must Be Earned.

Freedom is a great gift & an Inheritance for the Wise
& Responsible. With Freedom Comes Responsibility
& Accountability. There are those among us who are
Not yet ready for freedom, as it is like unto A Hunting
Rifle Given to A Small Child, a dangerous, irresponsible act.
And What Looks Charming Is Often Equally Damning.
Those who are ready to be free INSIST upon it, Regardless
Of Consequence.
When Freedom Is Ready, Freedom Is Born.
FREEDOM IS THE END GOAL OF EVOLUTION.
And to give it before its time is to Mock & Hinder Progress
& Native Understanding.
We Earn Our Way As We Go
& What is equal to us is always self evident.

Consequence is drama
Said he who dreamt of a trip
To Bahamas, with Gwen F. Altruistic
Poking her ass like my favorite biscuit
Within the onion of her dome, an area
I might once have called my home, were it
Not against policy while poison rules
Where quarantine separates abstract fools.
I paid my dues when Rome was burning
I played my fiddle when Atlantis yearned
To be paramount to valleys while my life
Was learning to be a substitute fantasy where
Love was concerned. Had I been different
& She been that, we may have died inside her twat,
The Police Asking Questions And What Not. Yet, I might
Have been Rimbaud & marshaled the seamen whose
Sperm I implore, to implode. And Boldly!
Lest I breed carols that
Systems overload, with monkeys rolling barrels,
Churning butter that would otherwise be
Left to spinning sorrows while rabbits chase
A Diamonds carat while merchants will to dare it.
The diamonds sweating what a bunny bears when
Fate is forced to face it, and loosen its embrace
Especially when the cut has left the stone some ways from grace,
And yet one still must wear it.
Gwen F.
(From Plymouth),
I will pay your annual syntax
Just promise me that in dreamland
My phallus you will wax.
 
It is not that my mind is nasty
It’s just that my thoughts are tasty,
If often hasty in their tracks
And brusque in their breaks.

Very short politically correct poem number 4:
 
As a hetero-sapiens dude
I have come to conclude
That it is not whether a
Man likes dick
But whether he is
Capable, as so few are,
& Faithful to the
Task at hand
Or just another prick.
My father was
A pussy man and
He said much of it was tasteful,
Though some of it was rude.
Life as it is, with us as we are, is the key to the rainbow bridge.
Having that been said the key to happiness, is simplicity
& Beers in the Fridge, Avoiding Post Nasal Drip.

One man’s morality is another man’s common sense.
One man’s open range is another man’s fence.
Confusion is a new mind.
We accuse the abused for acting abused
Never questioning the methods we use
Shoot out the lights & blame the fuse.
Abuse follows the same flame as misuse
In whose name fortune seeks recompense
For what density it bruised and what it might
Have left buried in a grave and not a trench
Where things might be retrieved
And where grieves lay dormant in fractured fields
Where myths are not believed.

Ghettos produce a lot of uneducated people, but very few dumb ones.
The streets don’t tolerate dumb very well, nor does natural selection.

The IDIOT has figured out how to make himself KNOWN
While the FOOL has figured out how to make himself
USEFUL. Otherwise taxes are the only thing they have in common.

If you are going to have ideas, they may as well be Great Ones, Because Good Ideas Will Get You Killed!

Maturity is the gift of survival & irreverence it’s new best friend.
Our survival being really the only thing worth taking seriously anyway.
The rest is just meant to be here for our amusement, not to dictate life to us,
But to invite us more to it.

When We Put Ourselves In Better Situations, We Get Better Results!

Don’t spend the hours looking at your clocks,
Time is never vacant when it knocks.
&
Everything is what it looks like until you see it.

Economic crisis is an act of war against community.
When society inhales, community chokes.
Most Crisis Is Theatre.
Then again, so is much of life.
It was designed to be.

Gay rights, Woman’s rights, Civil rights, all distractions!
There are Human rights, basic universal rights, available and applicable
To all, OR simply another effective way of separating, segregating and marginalizing other groups in return for
Social Diffusion & A More Weakened Constituency.
Rights cannot be subdivided without being compromised.
As Rights Are Compromised, So Are We.
We are given separate rights, that we remain separate.

Keep your dreams short. The longer they go on, the more they turn into nightmares.

Control of weather for political & social control has long been a tool of advanced nations.

Never begrudge a man his education, one way or another it will cost him whatever fortune he believes himself to have earned.

Society generally mutates its systems away from those it wishes to avoid being accountable for.
And in treating them like numbers, they are easier to roll off of the books.
In treating them like people, we risk to face our responsibility to evolution & raising spirits
To Higher & More Productive Values.
Raising a society is a worthy investment, though undercut by the fact that raising hell is less expensive
And sells a lot more insurance.
 
We Each Inherit The Evolution We Are Wiling To Sacrifice For.
What societies we have achieved are what societies we have earned.
And the heavier the society, the heavier the taxes.

All Idols Are Created To Be Eaten.
There is no greater purpose for them to serve
Than to be our savory tidbits.
(Besides promoting charities).

One man’s CHEAT is another man’s REFORMER.

WE can only see what we are looking at, when we turn away,
Otherwise we are hypnotized by it and blinded.
Looking at something is not necessarily seeing it.
The shadow left after the fact is just as real.

Ceremonies and rituals in films are meant to be inclusive of all participating, and if we are watching, then we too are taking part.
Likewise, what crimes we witness, we are active participants of.
But Even More So When We Look Away.

The Price Of Seeing Insanity Is To Risk Being Called Insane For Seeing It.
You get it or you don’t. Trying to get it is a form of hypnosis.
If you don’t get it, it’s not yours.
Try not to get things, let things get you.

Given what we needed to know, we wouldn’t need to become enlightened.
One man’s enlightenment is another man’s journey to distraction & more paperwork.
And does anyone really need any more paperwork?

A Man Who Fears His Enemies Doesn’t Know Them Well Enough.
A Man who AGREES with his enemies, remains one step ahead of them.
A man’s greater fear should be in having no enemies at all, otherwise what the hell is he doing?
In the game of life, if you didn’t piss off someone, you weren’t involved in the game.

Creating a monster is easier than controlling it after the fact.
And this is Dr. Frankenstein’s legacy to science.

Fortune never chases anything it aims to reach.
True Fortune distrusts desperation & utilizes distance as a fence.

We are largely blinded by what we have.
We see more easily, what we have lost.

We tolerate the blind largely because they agree to see what we tell them,
As we ourselves remain blind to those who dare to see beyond limited horizons.

Our Youth Is Hard To See Until It Is Gone.

Noah’s good fortune was not that he built the ark, but that he figured out how to monetize & subsidize it.
By the time the waters receded, he had all but cornered the market on Animal Fertilizer.
A lucrative asset to have when replenishing the earth is high on your ‘to do’ list.

Facial recognition is a form of Mind Reading. What Reads Our Faces, Reads Our Souls.
And get out of my soul. What are you doing there? Looking for another spare nickel are you?

An ID
Looking for his I.D.
Hid Itself Inside A
Squid, though not
One from the factory
But from a Shallow Grid,
That laps Foam on the waves
That slap against the tides that Groan
With Butterscotch Yearnings Of Returning Home.
Mirrors can only make a Goat of those they cannot Kid.
An ID that spoke Yiddish, Nervous & Skittish,
Though not Boorish, but Porous, perhaps frigid,
It dreams of Porsche, though it Rides The Bus
With A Girl Named Brigitte
(At times British, Often Livid & the Other Refractions
That Have To Live With It).
She’s the divide between them & us.
And though Loathe To Admit It, the Brine is the Price
& Texture of the liquid where the ID, looking for his
I.D. Hid, when it’s Pentacles Stretched & Reached into
The Squid, Tentacles Resting on what it Bids &
Keeping the ‘Squid Pro Quo’ Where It Is
& Their Secrets on how they did it.

There’s no business like show business
But there is also snow business like snowmobiles!

 
There was once a young Dexter from Exeter
Who really wanted to get next to her
So he sold his supply
of Hi-Fi for Wi-Fi
So that he could send more text to her.

There was once a lady from Woking
Who tried in vain to give up smoking
She sold her last bong
But before too long
She spent more money coking.

There once was a man from L.A.
Who fell much in love with a lay
He signed a pre-nup
And when his time was up
She sent the poor chap on his way.

There once was a man from Ossago
Who told people that he was from Chicago
When they found him a fake
It was more than he could take
He now sells cheese in Colorado.

There was once a lady from Spokane
Who cried out each time she came:
“Paint me like a starlet
Paint me like a harlot
Just keep it all inside the frame”.

There was once a dealer from Cornwall
Who considered himself quite born well
So he worked out his formula,
Moved to California
& now he invests in porn well.

There was once a market for Limericks
Before it succumbed to gimmicks
That gave it away
For a penny a day
& traded its mimes for mimics.

There was once a sailor from Eden
Who took his boat S.W. to Sweden
He opened his sails
& got eaten by whales
& so now he’s bottom feedin’.

Take 2:
There once was a sailor from Eden
Who took his boat S.W. to Sweden
He opened his sails
And got lost in the swales
And now he’s in Iceland Breeding. 
POST MILLENNIUM REVELATIONS:
JESUS Is A Tough Name To Carry. You either wind up DEAD or MEXICAN.

The true history of the world can be followed through language and not facts. Facts are convenient, the truth almost never is, but is almost always obvious, if seen.
The obvious is never less so than when looking at it.

We tend to elect our officials less based on what they are running FOR than what they are running FROM.
The More Compelling Story Is What We Leave Behind.
The haunted have always a long ways to go.
And who comes from a long ways has even further to go, which is good news for lives that pace themselves accordingly.
Spoken by Thursday’s Child.

MURPHY’S LAWYER SAYS: “THE MORE SELF EVIDENT A THING IS, PARADOXICALLY,
THE MORE DIFFICULT IT IS TO PROVE.”

Sometimes, Talent Complicates Things Simply Because It Can.
(Which is why so heavily monitored it is).
To the bored, mischief is a toy and at worst yet another adventure.
And it is the Same For Those Who See Beyond Life.

Any Idiot Can Gain Attention. Keeping It Defines An Artist.
An Idiot’s ability to distract is why they are so coveted by the powers that be.
While those who galvanize attention not strictly aimed at another product or way of life being promoted are kept at arms length if not silenced & destroyed outright.
ART FOR ART’S SAKE WILL GET YOU KILLED, or even worse, IGNORED.
And art for the sake of evolution’s just causes is now akin to blasphemy.
If we are not helping to enslave & program others, we ourselves are not promoted.

TROUBLEMAKERS Are ATTENTION SEEKERS.
Trouble Seeks Attention for Validation & Chastisement.
If A Tree Falls in the Forest and Doesn’t Make A Sound, then a troublemaker wasn’t behind it.
Without attention being stolen, trouble ceases to care the impression it creates beyond its strategic importance as a sleight of hand exercise.

SENTIMENT is a great and expensive luxury that cannot always be afforded.
And what it wastes most is the Simple Courage of Common Sense.

Vision without Common Sense tends towards disturbance and is
Dangerous & Counter-Evolutionary.
True inspiration always travels along extensions of logic.
Though bear in mind that one man’s logic can be another man’s mystery,
And One Man’s Mystery Is Another Man’s Mother.

WE ARE THE SYSTEM!
There is no ‘US’ vs. ‘THEM’.
(Except in our Anger & Confusion).
WE ARE THEM.
 
AND THEY ARE AFRAID OF US BECAUSE WE FEAR & DISTRUST OURSELVES.
 
And upon awakening to this, We Move Our World Closer To Our Own Imaginations.
No System in its Right Mind will allow People Power that they are Unsure Whether they are Worthy of. Or The Result Is Anarchy, driven by Lust & Greed, the Sycophants of Raw Power, Attained Before It Is Understood.
 
Be of good cheer!
What Time Removes of Convenience, it often Gives Back as Substance.
Our Needs Are Always Trustworthy to our Costs.

Trust People To Be What They Are, Not What You Want Them To Be, which is untrustworthy.
What We Are, We Can Be Counted On To Be. What we are not can be quite elusive & is a hard act to maintain.

SEEK & YE SHALL FIND! *
*(But Not Around Here, We Still Have A Few More Acres to Clear)
Not to mention a few Foam Bubbles to Break
For the Beer or the Hours Sake and what is left to Cheer.
OR…
You can just Shoot First & Ask Christian Slater
& Pray that Your Agent Gets Back to you Later.

ROBBED BY THE MOB,
He Was A Man Without A Country Record.
He Couldn’t Buy A Waltz,
Nor Would They Give Him Much to Work
With that Had much of a Pulse.
And He Didn’t like coming in Second,
He fought the Hedgerows while in Heat
And Reeling from Feeling Fecund,
Gripping in the trenches fists,
That Wingspan failed to greet
As it wallowed in Swelling
From Its Broken Wrist.
Sometimes the Middle Finger becomes
The fiddle’s final twist,
Some Translation Always lost in the Telling,
Though If the Pictures Hold up
The Mind is kissed,
Stabilizing Mental Health.
And Picking Fights If Not Much Else
(& Picking Noses,
Which He Blows
If He Supposes
It Knows Too Much & it Shows
& Falls Flat on its Feet & Toes
Back to Abraham & Moses,
Burying the Gentiles in
Chrysanthemums
& Roses
While Tombstones Beckon Bones
& Widows Seek their Wealth
& Fires seek their Hoses).
 
He wrote ‘Dragon Lines & Valentines’.
He wrote the ‘Ballad of Money Shot Jones’
Who Came On Time & Kept His Throne
While living in a Shelter He Called His Home
Where in Summer He Sweltered
Or he shivered when winter delivered
Winds to Him Alone, Knocking Over Signs,
While Stirring Up Tension That Whisky Unwinds
In the silence of a cone.
 
If PLASMA SCREAMS
Vision Dreams of the Time It Spends Atoning
For the Limits it has Dared To Stretch when Appetites
Foam At The Mouth Of Paradise,
Where Seeds are Sowing,
Winds are blowing &
Foothills find their Streams.
Even if the Price is Keeping Pace
With promises Kept &
Urges tamed, if not in God’s
Then in Vanity’s name.
The Mississippi Flows
Both In & Out Of Heaven,
Bread to Stone Remains Unleavened
Unless the flood bestows
Derailment on the Southbound train
Whose Clatter precedes its Sheen
& Whose passengers are the types
Who only Spirit knows
& Travel Sight Unseen
(Their lives Assumed more Pleasant).
While Sturgeon operate beneath the
Surf  turning 6’s into 7’s.
 
But Still, Estrogen’s Farms Can Hover Near
& Spank Above their Rank, While
Pluto’s Revenge
Is to Hide the Waters & Steal
The Balsamic
& Wine from the Cellars’
Tanks & turn it into Vinegar &
Then let Circumstance & Accusation shake
Before They Comprehend,
The Pirates from the Plank,
As Right Hand Men refused to Split Grain with
The Left hand of the Sinister
Who might render your death an Afterthought
With the Same Gesture used to Thank.
And who anyway overtax whatever they administer.
Where numbers are growing &
Heart rates are slowing &
Revenues find their stream.
Coughing up their Dollars
From the Rafters & Beams,
Each Man Repeating What the Last Man Hollers,
Completing the narrative of his frame.
 
AND HE UNDERPAYS WHO CAN
AFFORD TO HAVE HIS NAME
CHISELED ON A GRAVE
Beyond What Stones He’s Already Paving.
And driven by the Horses now limping
To the Barn they’re Braving,
Reduced to what they have.
These Fine Men Die So that the Waves May Swell
While those who bury them beneath their tears
Prepare the Context their Stories tell,
Buffered by the bonus years
And where the bias leans,
Knowing that all sirens save
One Last Song To Sell,
Tailored to its genes
As Well as to The Silver
Tales That Will Bear Engraving
Purchased within their means
From lives they are improving.
 
Though Nothing Changes That He Was
ROBBED BY THE MOB,
& Is Now A MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY RECORD.
 
Of His Own Accord He wrote ‘Chemtrails & Cocktails’
& ‘Have You Hugged Your Banker Today?’
& ‘If You’re My Mother, How Come Your Name Is Bill
& Why Do You Live In L.A.?’
And Now He’s Hanging on to Hand Rails,
Swiss Visa Revoked, Suffering Promotional ‘Underkill’
& Feeling the Pinch as they say, with
Few resources left for hoax
His pockmarks feeling the stress from the growth
That poked at his profile after the stroke.
The wives got rich, the lawyers went broke.
While impressions pale beneath the
Fence of his Dominance & his Sleeping Will
Locked out of his domicile for being
More Italian than French
& For Losing Touch With Common Sense.
Weeping Willows Stain their Pillows
With the leaves they choke.
 
He Could Have Gone For Broke.
He might have asked for recompense.
He Might Have Thought Before He Spoke.
Instead He Stood by the Things He Wrote
And wouldn’t move an inch.
And trusts that the Days Will Pay
For any Vows he May have forsaken
Or Any Hearts Betrayed in the Days
That Never Flinched & the Monsoon Nights did Soak.
Delayed only by what might have
Awoken suspense,
Or depressed those who easily took offense
Encumbered with foreign elements.
When Earls Were Men Instead Of Girls
& Counted their Blessings before their Pearls
Got Stuck inside their Throats.
And The Harlequins Last Cigarette Is
The Butt of Every Joke
& Frogs Are Existentialists Since Every Day They Croak
And Even the Ones that Smoke, do it to be Sensationalist.

Since he took Photographs of the Paintings he Painted and Exhibited Only the Photos,
They didn’t know whether to Consider him a Painter or a Photographer, so they left him alone.
And he had the market ALL to himself, for Quite Some Time.
Then he started PAINTING his photographs and his career became into view,
Though his main income was made from T-Shirt designs for surfers,
From whom he got his smoke.

The Root of all Conspiracy begins at home. Home is where we first encounter it.
 
The Best Investment In Time Management, Is Minding Our Own Business.
And letting the game come to you.
What we do not need to know is less hindrance to us.
 
LOOKING FOR WHAT WE DO NOT NEED TO FIND IS A SURE PATH TO RUIN.
 
And the Cross which Cures One Soul will Crucify Another.
Not to mention, what seems easy to bear is often quite difficult to maintain.
Not to mention also, that your brother is so stupid, he bought an Aphrodisiac
To grow his hair out…….(Next time he might wish to check the spelling).
After all, one man’s Aphorisms are another man’s Afro-isms. Just as one man’s Afro
Is another man’s braids or buzz cut.

The ‘LIBRERIA DYSLEXIA’ PROUDLY PRESENTS
JOHN STEINBECK’S
‘THE RAPE OF GRAPPA’, & ‘OF RICE & RENT’
& Due to Popular Demand,
EMILY BRONTE’S ‘HOVERING WHITES’.
Edited by W. Marmoset Yarn.
Available for Download soon on Swindle!
 
Also available soon: W. Shakespeare’s
‘A. SID MUMMER’S WET DREAM’.

O.K. Gotta Go Now, the British Are Coming & My Scotch-Irish blood is getting a bit nervous…..

These writings dedicated to all knuckleheads, you all being the types who know who you are.

Sananda Maitreya Milano Italia Jan 2015. All rights reserved, though some rights are more reserved than others, being by nature more provincial & shy. Special thanks to Marmoset Yarn
& A. Sid Mummer, as well as the one & only Ed Meyers himself.

COPYRIGHT SANANDA FRANCESCO MAITREYA
MILANO January 23rd, 2015
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
INTELLECTUAL COPYRIGHT PROTECTED

www.SanandaMaitreya.com
www.Sananda.org