Scott Free from the Norm-Al

Check my steez,
No thought in the open set
Check your mind Hyper-I-per -delic,
so Bald head slick are you up for the special ops, get you on the spin like tops
happening,
yap
neon
be the sphere
awake the tokenism
re-shape
set it off
particles breakdown

____________

And then you ask who can bring judgement
do you figure out before the end
blends tell me its all gone wrong
super gramma
do you know if the human has love
in the here-after in the after-life
after life
i hope to wrap to my wife in the next thought
programming
real life is being official
hell is where
you get to
if you don't
open the scopes
hopes, a dime a dozen
another puzzling special ed maneuver
gel the hair tonic
play wit' young headz is unfair
world wide tearz
drop

Norm Scott Free

Hella,

Holy Crap, thats a big truck.

Pieces, good grief, hehehe.

The events you want, when you want them.

Norm' s Blog: The Aesthetic of the Jangled Mass of Wires

DB#12000018

Yo, halo's not in the mist.

Halo's not intact.

Or anywhere near the premises I presume,

Dual or duel?

Shut up you fool.

Drool in a pool,

Sit in a stool,

DUEL.

Fight if you have to

hang from the rafter
call your pastor
ask whose master
find the bindings

bind the findings
I'm a grifter,
keep going like a drifter,
where I'm going, gaining queries,
fairies,
a spectrometer, get out on miskeeter,
my feet'er going one in front of the utha


my is mayan ruin

check the speed on your ometer

be the whirl in whirl-a-girl
jamaica?

has a bob-sled TEAM?

meet ja makah?
Steam going up like a dream
in deep deep deep
a fakir, antennae,
an aardvark lookin' for somethin' to eat,
no potatoes, something not much left...

eiffel

tower
trifle

rifle
back in listen world
is
iz
this is now

Conglomerate come out new like cash oil records Emirates,
i EAT cHINESE s[AGHETTI

WET

letter.

__________ . _____________

My great gramma
she said
do them wells
do they keep a pumpin' oil
or do they
DRY OUT
after a while?

,.,,.,,.,.mm

last word, go go go...
chinese stew.
monkey in the middle.
chinese stew.
any word

I've been busy today

Coming back with a vengeance, Respect, hey by the way nasal, check out a supra-ultra cheepie by my slick veteran all right:

Probably Not.

Each moment is new, brand new. That amazes me everytime. I get dumbstruck and don't know where to go next. I sit here pit patter trying to keep up with the flow of thoughts. I don't give myself time to seem clever or learned, just blaze, blaze, blaze, horrific, the way that boy kicks his jargon, a damn pirate i'm sure. Kentucky Fried Limericks, who the hell talks in complete sentences anyway, the damn ingrates. I guess its ingrained.

Bastards locked me out my house. I went and got dinner. Hassle. Took it in stride, kinda.

Peace, Love, and Greens.

_________________

The lockout scenario really sucks, yeah I heard some banging and I heard my name, but I didn't hear anyone that knew my name. They are crazy to use my name. Am I some kind of thing that gets tossed around. Strangers using my name upsets my frame. So they put the wrong key, and made a ruckus, fools. I was trying to sleep. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what the hell these knuckleheads were doing. And now I bet this mofo got fuming. He's lucky I didn't come out, fucking punks.

Whoa. Tough guy talk.

_________________

Spencer
Why not jump the gun
A lama here
A lama there
One Lama
Two Lama
Three and Four
Sure?

Am I making Sense

Am I striking a chord. I can barely decipher the random rambles of this Art-Piece sumtimes. Really I must have the Attention Span of an Eel, for real.

Work is drudgery. I can't the Master plan. I am drained.

What does it all mean.

_________

I went to see Joel's play Hearts and Minds, which tackled the issues of our Country's direction after 9-11. The main character is a black man being held in an interrogation room after eporting his bag stolen while traveling in an airport bound to Miami. It had a ton of nervouse tension, and some funny moments. I enjoyed the performances and felt like it maintained a lot of punch and stirred a lot of thoughts.

_________

Yesterday's Feist / Buck 65 show was supa-fun. I got a lil' tipsy, as evidenced by my previous post. Whatever was going on there. Ask me. Comment. Figure it out. o you people even read this Snazz.

_____________

Lost in a surreal wasteland of surreal thoughts. Attempting to string enough of them together to grab your interest and spark your thirst. You the audience wrapped in your blankets, scared and hopeless. Be free, cast off your mental shackles, your irons. Dance with the spirits. Raise your own like a flagpole. Be the dance.

__________________-

I need to get on top of things with my website. I got Antonio hanging on the design. I am quite a procrastinator. I can really make that happen if you give me half a chance. Wasting my talents. I suppose.

Watched the Yankee game in typical veg-out fashion.

Dangerous Drunken Internet Posting

My rambling searches seem to point to a lot of tension building up in the world. Does the world feel agitated to you. Maybe its just me thats agitated. The beer I drank Last night. The truth I give to the children. The coded language I employ. The neverending tap tap of the keyboard. The non-Editor approach to writing. The jump in your gut and quiver it. The reality drain - sink hole.

The the.

Spirals of downward rambling poetry. Why? Whynot. Don't waste my time. WHo cares anyway. Last nights dream stashed in my back pocket. Hot blooded. See through the fury. Show some respect.

No pain.

Early detection.

Snap a Neck

break a neck.

There is the book called the shadow of the dalai lama, its a conspiracy type thing, and it rips into buddhism. i could tell right off the bat that the writing is subpar, jammed with sensationalism over scholarliness. The thing is who the hell am I? I wonder. I also liked when I saw how fucked it is that What the bleep do you know? is Ramtha. So sad. Walking in a cultlike background, with drinks and girls gone wild in the fore, obey the law is what they say. Nightlife crowd. Pilgrims in an illegitimate wasteland. Teenagers to adults, all wasted, laced, wasting time. Like its up for hock.

Robots of the sub culture find yourself. Did you ever notice the word cult is cult-ure, its You're cult, culture. It's Yours, like T La Rock, or was it La Tee. Bee I can't keep up with the old school now that I am so old school I'm going senile.

I'll get to the point some other time. Just jotting.

___________________

It's time to write, do you know what time it is,
strict biz, lyrical wiz, see you at the Copa.
Come out tonight
Don't be a loafer.
I'll take mine mocha,
over cans of coke
Look at those cans of coke.
More.
Sorry we're all out.
Can't go all out.
Drink yourself to oblivion.
Mixed drinks stink the think tank. No tanks

Nitro

Nitrous

Never Trust

DaDa

Merda Dem !!! Merda Dem !!!

I see you baby
I see you baby
Shaking that azzzz
Shaking that azzzz

Uh Huh
I see y-

All right,

Don't Touch Me.
Uh Huh
Don't Touch Me.

Enter rude - the Interlude

Sleepless Nights lyrics"
I cannot sleep at nightThat’s what the day is for anywayAnd as the clock strikes midnightI hear them dancing at the gravesSinging to my mindKilling the pain . . . sleepless nights . . . sleepless nightsI cannot sleep at nightThat’s what the day is for anywayAnd as the clock strikes midnightOnly they can let us meetEven though she’s dead nowI gotta see her again . . . sleepless nights . . . sleepless nightsI cannot sleep at nightI will do anything to see missy againThen let us make you an eternal dealYou will attend to the gravesYou’ll give us the house back and keep in mindThat we only come here at night.So we made the deal under the starry night andAmon belongs to them now . . .I feel the dawn coming my wayAnd as the sun breaks up the darkI can’t hear them dance no moreThere’s no voicesKilling the pain . . . pain . . . pain

King Diamond Lyrics

follow me

Every day I cover a little more ground, and eventually I will get somewhere.

Goals:

Become a better writer

by doing it
by reading
by getting feedback

Create a body of work

by planning what to write about
by doing it

Share this body of work

promote (friends, family, and strangers)

Meet other creatives

write letters and emails
go out and chat

Celebrate life

dance
use aspirations to focus (reality)

________

Oh Ronald
You destroy with your sham,
ham baloney sandwich.
Fraudulent, need to be in prison.
Exorcism of all you claim to be.
But you look the same to me
A snake oil charlatan
Scream on you like carlin
Got no love harlan
Barge 'em out on a boat
all she wrote
angela lansbury
knoxbury farms
be alarmed
ring the attention span
when you get the spam
the tibetan foundation?
got to get real
caused quite a stir
when he stranded those monks
life's slam dunks make you stronger
somedays the days seem longer
stretched out before you
governments wield strange powers
can the people be healed
subverted i heard it
in the wording
coming the bell tower rhetoric
clerics of hysterics
grave matters
mass concern

Oh Ronald you are diabolical
Wicked is your plan
From where did you land
And where will you end up?

_______________________

I feel centered today. Yesterday was dead on in terms of renewal. I feel more whole. I kept a schedule and it got me to kickstart my life into a more recognizable existence. Juie ti me. Energy is for the energetic so jump with it and show what you got. Don't be afraid life is happening.

Nightlife shimmy

Well not really, more like sit at home with all sorts of rules and time limts the new Taylorism, at home. Watched the Yankees lose, and hung wet laundry around the loft like an 17th century washer woman.

Having to write means having to have an agenda. Having to have something to write. The right to write is inalienable. It is most basic. It is primal. It is the original, no copy.

Stand up and let yourself be known. Has beens and no-names are just as welcome as celebrities in my world, and pioneers of the cerebellum bell tower kinda power are my fave who cares about the queen. Burn the village.

Awoke to shreds of lost consciousness, unbearable and impossible to read, coming back in reflections. Seeing what is there, actually there. This is the central theme. Seeing the real, actual. Being real. Authentic.

The heat is on, no a/c, just grin and bear it. Hang on the fire escape and impeach the sky, crazy colors hovers over me majestic field aplenty.

Vortex and angry cyclone swirls. People take the spooky too serious and don't know what they are harnessing. Be careful of the kooks all around you, and I am not demonstrating paranoia. I am the kook. I am crazy, let it be told. Call me home from the war, lock me up. Hang me with bedsheets, hide me. Die. Lend me two nickels so I can rub you the wrong way.

I never believe any of you are real. My delusion is mine to keep, and we keep on playing. Play with me and drive me oh soooo crazee.

I challenge everything and nothing at the same time. I am the warrior with no beef. The vegan who eats Soy Sausages. The King of the palace. Large and in Charge, recognize.

_______________________


"Welcome to the machine " said the Magic Man.

He said goodbye to the Stranger of Nazareth who wanted to sleep all day. He couldn't wait for the answer in the morning with jokers to the left of him, so he took in the air tonight at the top of Solsbury Hill.

The Magic Man thought to himself, Its so easy with a heart of gold, but whos crying now that I am hooked on a feeling of being stuck in the middle with you Diamond Girl.

The genesis of misunderstanding began with that evil woman wo took me to her house on Baker street tonight. She said, " Id really love to see you tonight my sweet lord."

Bloglife

The best way to begin is to begin badly, to fall straight down the pipe, and into the crapper. This is the way to ultimately succeed. First you must fail, so throw yourself headlong in front of the world with no shame. Dance on fire under the light. Enjoy the brightness, burn baby burn. I like the nightlife, give me some spice.

I could dance in quiet corners by myself buying nothing, peace nor admitting too many distractions. Nobody listens to the memoirs of a tormented sore loser.

Who wants to hear form crappy emotionalism.

Another life rolled out on a stretcher.

Who gives a damn?

Kendra Fowler from the Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black preached availabilism so in that vein I begin with the strange case of Ronald Lloyd Spencer.

Somehow he became the Buddha Maitreya and is taking his candy ass onto the scene. He pissed off a bunch of monks when he withdrew his support for them after they refused to agree with his assertion that he is the reincarnation of Christ and Buddha. It seems this charlatan is making false claims across the board. Who can you trust in this rat race game, certainly not yourself, and certainly not me.

Here read something random about him, and think fun:

Recently the name of Kharnang monastery have been associated with the activities of a man named Ronald Spencer pretending to the a living Buddha, and more precisely the reincarnation of all the Holy Masters of the past, from Buddhist lineages but also of other religions! "Ronald Lloyd Spencer, an American man born in 1951, declares that he is Buddha Maitreya emanation. His incarnation lineage begins from Buddha Shakyamuni (Gautama Buddha)/Jesus Christ/Buddha Maitreya, Guru Padmasambhava, Jowo Atisha and Je Tsongkhapa. And of course, like any other Buddhist-Christian cults, he said that this is the reappearance of Christ, the Buddha"."His centre is a Soul Therapy Centre. Its centre's literature also states that "He is the Avatar Archangel Michael/Metatron who is the Lord of Shambhala Sanat Kumara and is also known as Melchizedeck the Ancient of Days." "And his name and title are changed time to time: Archangel Michael, Tulku Karma Sonam Phuntsok Rinpoche, Babaji, Tulku Je Tsong Khapa Gyalwa Rinpoche, Lama Dorje Buddha Maitreya Jesus Archangel Michael and last but not the least the American Buddha."

We are talking kicks, let the legacy of foolishness persist. Guard your mind the spirits clutch.

Remember to connect to your heart, always. Keep reconnecting when you fall off track. Free will?