Category: Poetry

Poems, shards, fragments, prose, experiments

  • THOUGHTS: WHERE DO THEY GO?

    “If you let liars into the government, you put everybody at risk”–James O’ Brien, a few minutes ago on LBC talk radio, UK.

    Whenever I’m fortunate enough to catch one of my own thoughts and follow it, I try to imagine how such a similar thought may arise in others. You can save a lot of time by working to slow the avalanche of distracting thoughts using traditional methods, follow your breath, sit still, isolate your consciousness temporarily to recharge and repair. However, a lot of people consider meditation as pass/time for snowflakes, and need further nudging and poking to begin to recognize the importance of trying to follow their thoughts and questioning where they come from and where they go? And how often are you updating that data-set?

    A healthy mid/waypoint between Zen meditation and simply changing your mind about something revolves around the language that you use and how you use it. The introduction of a few modifications to a language can produce results similar to those gained from meditation, they can affect a new expanded awareness, from the individual psychological sense of self…to the ontological social-cultural sense of reality. Every time we hear, think and speak we are confronted with the paradox of Language vs. The Equation.

    The symbol systems we use to communicate our message and those we leave out are worthy of meditation. Meditation, to return to the theme, or some kinds of meditation…aim to reach beyond language and bridge the ideological gaps, to move towards experiencing things as they actually are: perpetually changing, decentralized, incomprehensible. And invoking compassion to fill the holes of what cannot be known.

    “Language is a virus from outer space.”–William S. Burroughs.

    In all seriousness and sincerity, we should all spend a moment to meditate on Coronavirus and where possible, try to follow our thoughts, our hopes and our fears. Try to track them to where they originate, where is the source of those thoughts and where are those thoughts going to…and now? This process of self-analysis and listening to your own head and heart, once in touch with your own mind-body system, can be shifted to cast judgement on others or external signals from…out there. Hopefully with compassion due to understanding the process you’ve just been through, like solidarity, not a choice but duty when faced with the incomprehensible, the uncertain and the indeterminate of a global pandemic turning endemic. We must search for that common ground between all human beings, such as to wish them a happy healthy life, for example. Wish well, wish hard, wish often. Practice practice practice.

    The global coronavirus brings complexity and chaos to the existing complexity/chaos/disorder inherent in subject-object duality, underlying most division and confusion around the world, the roots of disinformation? To repeat, never give up trying to understand that which you currently do not, experiment, research, measure, study, and in equal measure…both on yourself and on others…the internal and external infinite flux of beingness. Man, and women, is the measure of all things, somebody else said.

    To conclude: If you want to fight for your future and live in a healthy, well-informed community of self-owning ones, consider starting by following your own thoughts, where do they come from, where do they go? Then if your feeling brave, begin to use the same logic and reason, the same thought tools to break down the news headlines and the gossip down the pub and the WHO guidelines and each and every message communicated down to the very last pixel, or phoneme.

    “Free your mind and your ass will follow…”–Funkadelic.

    Thanks for reading, stay safe.
    Love all the people!

    –Steve Fly

    [DISCLAIMER: I make no claim to expertise in meditation or spiritual practises. I’m more of the “do what thou wilt to find compassion for others” persuasion. As we head into a spiritual and material crisis, I recommend a linguistic hazmat suit, neurolinguistic relativity and multi-model agnosticism to nudge us towards a compassionate, interconnected, co-operative global village.]

    http://www.hilaritaspress.com/

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dzogchen

    https://www.wired.com/beyond-the-beyond/2020/03/journalists-toolbox-studying-coronavirus/


    A song I wrote called THOUGHTS, based up some of the above.

    Occupy by Dr Marshmallow Cubicle

     

     

  • FUCK BORIS JOHNSON BEAT JUGGLE

    FUCK BORIS JOHNSON BEAT JUGGLE

    A DJ Fly beat juggle feat. Jason of Sleaford Mods (Mcflurry) and Pharoahe Monch (Fuck You).

     

  • FACT CHECK, 1-2

    FACT CHECK, 1-2

    Introduction: I woke up this morning and rhymed my mind wheels. Enjoy, love, fly.

    Fact check and false check chicken neck
    Fat Cheque, fake chap, make chat,
    Ignorant ain’t cha’

    I look pale but I got this tribal trail for yer’
    A big whale, like a shark fish swimming tour
    Eternally 23, names wordsley
    Off the top get a mop cuz’ brexshit moves sleazey
    You tease me, with the promise of rhyme
    Debase me, with crime-minister prime

    I’m coming for Boris with Jez and Chuck Norris
    We gonna’ plant a forest, we gonna’ chant a chorus
    For poets who come before us, and claw us a torus

    In spore us inspire us can’t tire us with tyrants
    My family migrants with floral fragrance not vagrants
    This ones for the vegans pagans and Finnegans
    Rap shenanigans in my shattergums sugar-plumb fairy songs
    Sculptured bongs in cultured dishes, make three curses
    And bake four wishes

    Get some tissues, for this fission-fusion
    Boris and Mogg And Farage mirage illusion
    Contusion contortion, lies and distortion
    More than their portion of sleepy Eaton potion
    Dribbled out to the nation
    Logic on ration
    The P.M loves fashion
    And the fashion is fascism and isms and schism
    First-class division for second class vision

    Fact check and false check chicken neck
    Fat Cheque, fake chap, make chat,
    Ignorant ain’t cha’

    Fuck Boris, don’t let the lies permeate
    Hold the motherfucker to each word turd mate
    Tabloid media failing yer big tech selling yer’
    Big dicks swinging yer getting fucked I’m tellin’ yer
    Wake up smell it year
    The writings pun the wall and it’s led by donkeys
    The two blonde beasts were both bred by honkies
    War carded, retorytarded
    fart in the face of democracy, Trump
    A bull in the office of orifice, Boris

    So I leave that behind and get my ass outside
    Take a trip to the park and go “weeeee” down the slide
    I skip some dog shit and write a new hit
    I got more on my shoe than I know what to doo-doo with
    so I pick it and flip it and scrape some more off
    While thinking of Putin and Mikhail…Gorbachev
    Having a loff’ getting shit of my shoes
    The arbitrary rhyme scheme to mean tepid blues

    It looked like choco ice cream but
    Tasted like marmite mixed with
    Vaseline, a brexshit dream

    Fact check and false check chicken neck
    Fat Cheque, fake chap, make chat,
    Ignorant ain’t cha’

    Well listen, they’re not all this, and all that
    I’m not all steve and I’m not all Pratt
    Don’t carry a gat or a bat or gun
    Just a couple of pens, some vinyl and drum
    Ruppa-Pum-Pummel your feet with stones
    Eat hot dog buns with spiced microphones

    Fight waves and resistance with minimal drag
    like a sea hag witch shaman poet slag
    lightning bolt one-leg from Winnipoop-peg
    Smoked your last roach and drank the last dreg

    Goodbye summer wine hello winter rant
    When I write off the dome its me, ste, itinerant
    Squinity butterfly sprinty, with an Irish tint
    Favourite colours green, and flavour mint

    I put your tongue in a splint
    And sent your eyeballs to Clent
    Nose to the grind
    And ears important
    Head in the clouds and feet on the slab
    Gimme some acid to unleash my splift’ of the gob

    These rhymes on a cob
    This life of a slob, firing back at the mob
    Who lost you your job
    With lies from their club
    I shoot with this dub
    I scoot to the nub
    Just dance to the sub
    Sit up, don’t be a slouch like Mogg
    Be like Jez
    Make plans to heal this mezz’
    Confess and test the best of yourself
    Get abreast of yourself
    Find the rest of yourself
    Find the others

    Oh, oh, oh….find, the others
    Agree to tolerate their manias
    If they can tolerate yours
    Be like flipper not Jaws
    Take a walk take a pause
    Reflect and direct the love in all ways
    The hated are fated to be elated with antiquated hate

    Fact check and false check chicken neck
    Fat Cheque, fake chap, make chat,
    Ignorant ain’t cha’

    A poet avoids rhyme like the plague
    Forcing clarity of sanity distinguished from vague
    These rhymes are childish
    Puns served hot and mildish
    English tingle ish’ single this, finger lift, to right wing toffs

    I wish I wish in just one stanza
    You’d explain the brexit extravaganza
    Hex it, stop it, smell it, chuck it, heal it, steal it,
    Few walk the talk, few truly feel it
    If you want to fight Trump you have to stop Brexit
    That’s it, in a nutshell, a gut smell, say what now?
    What punk-rock rap includes lyrics from Bercow?
    Get justified ancient and Moo Moo
    Come together and tackle the doo-doo

    Fact check and false check chicken neck
    Fat Cheque, fake chap, make chat,
    Ignorant ain’t cha’

    Fact check, 1-2.

    –Steve Fly 9th, October, 2019. Amsterdblam.

    STEVE FLY: SELECTED POETRY

  • Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson And Donald John Trump Are Falling

    Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson And Donald John Trump Are Falling
    Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson And Donald John Trump Are Failing

    The leaders of the free world
    Who occupy the highest orifices
    In the United States of America
    And the United Kingdom
    Will fall due to the weight

    Of truth pushing down on them
    As they punch down upon the
    Vulnerable with their Uranium tipped
    Shells and bullshit tipped austerity
    In league with criminals and

    Murderers Johnson and Trump
    51st state tag team gropers
    Lies skating doubles champions
    Top footbullshit goal scorers
    Track and field and destroy stars

    Wearing lies and deceit on their sleeve
    Racism on their foreheads
    English American German Russian
    What is nationality to a global terrorist?
    Both top of their first division division division

    I salute those who stand up and speak truth
    To madman Boris de Pfeffel and Dog Trump
    A twenty-four seven three sixty-five fifty-one state
    Meditation to not become like them
    Do not lose your centre fighting a hot fudge Sunday

    Watch them trip and fall into the swamp they made
    Fall off the walls they made (Humpty de Pfeffel Trumpty)
    Celebrate journalism now! by
    Fact checking your news and watching F For Fake
    Peace comes of communication
    May warmongers choke on their own entropy

    Boris and Donald are falling
    Boris and Donald are failing
    Boris and Donald are falling
    Boris and Donald are failing

    Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson And Donald John Trump Are Falling
    Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson And Donald John Trump Are Failing

    Repeat Infinitum…

  • Deep Scratch – Release

    Deep Scratch – Release

    Hi,

    Please consider supporting Deep Scratch at https://www.patreon.com/stevefly

    Expect fireworks, audio, video.

    Much love, Steve Fly

    DEEP SCRATCH ONE

  • “Borrisalooner” – James Joyce, Finnegans Wake, Chapter 23. (Page 337)

    The future prophesy reported to surround the highly weird book, Finnegans Wake (1939) can be evidenced here: Chapter 23, page 337. Sounds a lot like Boris Johnson to me, and my sentiment asking for buds, and order. John Bercow anyone. I am incorrigible too. Boris the LOONER, and Boris Johnson the loner. Spot on jim.

     

    We want Bud. We want Bud Budderly. We want Bud Budderly
    boddily. There he is in his Borrisalooner. The man that shunned
    the rucks on Gereland. The man thut won the bettlle of the
    bawll. Order, order, order, order!

    http://www.trentu.ca/faculty/jjoyce/fw-337.htm

    p.s Joyce wore a Borsalino hat.

  • Word And Deed Thought And Policy Speech Act And Written Word

    “Freedom is the name for the thing that is not freedom”–Herman Melville

    Missing in the dominant formulation is the difference between word and deed, thought and policy, between speech act and written word, what is outside or what is inside a chain of command, what is rendered powerless and illegitimate. What does it mean when an Amiri Baraka or Ward Churchill writes or says something? Why does it mean something different when a secretary of Defense, a general, or a CEO of a large corporation says or writes something?–Ammiel Alcalay, A Little History, pg. 177

    https://www.upsetpress.org/double-book-release-ammiel-alcalay/