DEEP SCRATCH

Tag: rhyme

  • Corona Cypher – First Thought Best Thought

    Corona Cypher – First Thought Best Thought

    Hi, in contrast to my blog yesterday, I’ve let my words fly in a first-thought best-thought cypher, to imagine a vaccination potion full of verbs and motion.

    Soul vaccination,
    All across the nation people been catchin’ honkypox (Honkypox)
    When you get the notion,
    Tower’s got the potion – you might look in to set yourself in motion.
    —Soul Vaccination, Tower Of Power (What Is Hip)

    Patience patient paint that paradise
    Dr immuno’ flow help you throw the dice, thrice
    Who know what you think you know, let it go
    Let it flow, spring come lift the light plant and grow
    Wash em’ lift it up and push it up keep vibes up high
    Planet spinning on its axis, rapid climate renewal
    Quick death of toxic stock in fossil fuel?
    Banking crash human race nineteen meter dash
    French minister of culture cumming out with the rash
    Johnson and Trump eye the cash king, econo-money over people?
    Putin wins republican tory vote
    Billions of particles dormant in throat
    The vote spoiled crops and oats
    Stop the blame game, same game, stop the wheels
    Not with a bang but with a whimper
    Better get a woolly jumper, spring has sprung
    Equinox 2020 indoors tracking thought spores up walls
    Banish fears and move forward like new years
    Watch the fossil fuel weasels fight in their hole
    Watch the Eagle, the Bear, The Unicorn and Vulture
    Reach for the bowl, good for the soul and the journey
    Euthanasia king now fight kapow
    Hemp futures, plant a seed, that’s what we need
    Fight greed with surplus, forests mighty string
    Food fibre fuel, come on fool…I’ll be your mule
    Grow that hemp for victory
    To fight the king 19 viruses, microbial and global
    Use your head heart and irises
    Look, listen, shine glisten
    Now be that change, stay in range, set your sights
    Like Noah we move tongues to a new dark 3.0 cypher
    “Oh no…” but stand up and face the music, don’t go
    Be the forward thinking solutions oriented one
    Like, ride your bike
    Take a hike
    Don’t touch that rail, feed the poor and make them  strong
    Look after your prisoners,
    Hold your officials to their word
    Wash your hands, flush the turd
    Attention to word mind body
    You’re not going to die be strong, hold on buddy
    Here’s a hand not a head-in the sand
    Here’s a jazz solo, a new album, a brand new band
    Over air, sea and land, in hope you better understand
    Rhyme can unleash endorphins
    And endolphins swim with dolphins
    Prose vaccination for experimentation
    Try it, don’t buy it grow your own
    Put down that toilet roll put down your phone
    Wash your hands and put em’ in the air
    Wave em’ like you care
    Mash on son, mash on with compassion
    Get your grow on, go on
    Earth and humanity needs you and what you grew
    Make a new garden crew
    Do what you need to do to prevent flu
    Stay high, fly, CBDJ “Hi,”
    Feed your immune system with funny thoughts
    Play mind games and put out doubt with flames
    Quote facts and peer-reviewed names to reignite
    Each and every night unravel your talk tapes mi’ mates
    More toxic than J.P Morgan
    Monsanto and a five-year-old bag of rotten potato
    From the get-go King Virus by contamination
    Like the four horseman in the Tesco lasagna
    Animal traffick led to…
    Pick up the mic and go endemic to prevent panic
    With a goat, sceptre, and pot plandemic
    Slammdemic dem
    Murder virus sound
    Kill that virus sound
    Slamm Dem Pandem Mandem standin’ firm
    Throw water on it, fire, earth, blow it away?
    No gun or bomb can shoot this King dead
    Spreading like all memes trending at once, widespread dread
    All Ornette Coleman solo’s at once
    A William Gibson meets John le Carre’ finale’
    Humanity run off down the motorway like a headless Pangolin
    Mis-identified as link between animals and humans (My Bad!)
    News and gov still manglin’
    Vultures anglin’
    Life lines be danglin’
    Who’s who is handling?
    Ching Ming….CHING MING
    What good governance?
    Utterance, for a dollar, do a Johnson trap dance
    Pulling out while Cummings keeps on Cumming
    In Putin’s mouth
    Snivilization slouches further south
    No worries, it’ll soon come around
    Table turn around sounds fresh and loud
    Disperse to move the crowd, us discoronians stick apart
    Stay one meter away and claim your space
    Make your ritual space in that place
    Surround yourself with good omens
    Cleanse banish power up be here now
    Wash your hands and then touch your face
    Speak with sincerity, move with a trellis of lace, with grace
    Rhyme to climb into the head and bring relief
    Boost your immune system with some sexual relief
    No tissue, use a handkerchief
    Turn grief to a new leaf, good greaf?
    Sacrifice for greener futures
    That healthy planet for the young the dinosaurs refused?
    A death sentence for business
    The end of the dinosaur age is messy
    Goodbye T-Rex, goodbye Nessy
    Oil and fossil fuel industry made dust, past history
    Toxic debts and bonds fall like towers unwashed money
    Another bust boom bust boom!
    Evidence capitalist governmints made of sand-men
    Who do you trust?
    World market kept up by tent poles made of jelly and marzipan
    International unrestricted finance capitalism
    Pandemic running loose infecting humans for millennia, check it
    If Language is a virus from outer space so is money, burn it
    A Pangolin Bat broth dissolved trillions
    Gobble gobble gobble they earned it
    Hairs on the arms of billionaires and millionaires flare
    You can imagine them looking into space
    From a Yacht, that stare
    No blame, stop hating, we need to come together and stick apart
    And keep masterbating
    Wankers against the second come-king
    Our leader’s Russel Brand and Milley Ray Cirus
    You’re gonna need pliers to get me out of bed
    Stuck to the sheets by my leaky prik-stick spread
    Who’s the illest now?
    Beat the virus
    Go wireless and tell a tireless solo choir-less let’s go
    Don’t fight forces use them,
    Learn to love the illness and embrace darkness in fullness
    And shine light, illuminate, stimulate sexdrive
    To produce white blood cells
    Mind body speech, word sound power, wash pray spit and shower
    Cleanliness is next to holiness, be the pollen and the flower
    Dethrone King virus and lock it away in a tinder box.
    Not from terrorists but bats and pangolin
    Pang, pang, pang, pang, with a pang and with a whimper
    Solidarity with all in discomfort from hunger loneliness
    Suffering from Corvid19, heartbreak or regular flu
    My thoughts and virtual arms just dropped the mic to hug you
    Fight back with A G C and T
    It’s only about 8 Kilobytes, put em’ up,
    Language is the key, break the spell do it well, duck, weave, duck duck
    invocation not required, they’re all around touch taste sound smell
    On earth and inner neurological spaces, as in heaven as in hell
    Places to bottle up solutions and write new potions
    To kill the King Virus and bring hope to nations
    Yes we can figure out preventative medicine
    Starting with high dose sessions of psilocybin
    Stay high and happy, positive, keep vibing
    Calling all gods and goddesses worldwide and beyond
    From the Compton Length to Hubble’s Red-Shift
    Under mountain, glacier and pond
    Give us a hond’
    Every quantum super-computer and solid-state entity
    Each and every discarnate spirit, ghost, an angel hear me
    There’s no part of me that’s not of the gods, you neither
    What are the odds, really, what are they cuddlies?
    Who’s the patient zero breeder?
    May the researchers find luck and perspire little
    May the ancestor animal and insect spirits rise from this spittle
    And bring the entheogenic dimension of love to our eyes
    Love all the people, the plants and the flies
    Take rest on your low points, take flight on your highs
    Do art and dance, sing keep an eye out for all
    Up there on the ceiling and above the roof from the floors to the wall
    Keep death on a pale horse at bay
    The return of the King
    Who would want such a thing
    Who wears the crown of thorns
    What religious leader can end all wars
    Biological peacemaker or lifetaker?
    Poems dark turn toward scripture, tongues burn
    A crown of thorns corona
    The second coming of Christ, Koronagain
    Judgement Day Coronopalypse
    Convictions make convicts?
    If you wish to put it that way and let it past your lips?
    I say neigh, not on my watch, not tomorrow and not today
    Pick any scripture, any month, any day and fire away and say
    Any event from the last five years signifies end times
    Judgement day, the apocalypse
    World populist political surge and 2008 banking heist scourge
    Economic corporate fascist free-reign, acid rain, Bottcher con main
    Climate and environmental lies, deceit…
    Take your pick…from the familiar terrain, stay rational
    Don’t lose your nerve
    Just cuz’ Christ wore a crown of thorns
    And his mythical return to judge
    Humanity does not mean
    The Jesuspect Christereotype is guilty, does it?
    Cleanliness next to holiness
    From animal kingdom hunted and trafficked
    To near extinction by an appetite for meat and status, meat death
    Better get in touch with your immune system, direct line please
    Hello, hi, hello, can you hear me, this is…..
    Hello, hey, are you there, this…this is steve”
    As I said, take those magic mushrooms, get up, get out of bed
    Stand up be strong lead the way to health and fitness, break bread
    Get ready to fight and to encourage others
    Rhyme with reason be tough
    Be brave write it out, fears and cheers together
    The light and dark Escher effect
    What happened to bird flew and wine flu?
    Word flew, bird said, word stew, me brew tea brew
    The vaccine is at the bottom of the mushroom teacup
    With chunks of some Amanita or other?
    Use mushrooms for good god damn it
    Within the poison may lie the cure?
    I’ll smoke spliff an’ listen to Rob Smiff
    Love you, stay safe.

    –Steve Fly Agaric 23.

    Some links…

    See Also:
    https://www.jstage.jst.go.jp/article/antibiotics1968/40/6/40_6_904/_article/-char/ja/

    https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/f685/c5844a712ce145a5366c97c42aee4c90deac.pdf

    https://foreignpolicy.com/2020/02/27/coronavirus-south-korea-cults-conservatives-china/

     

  • 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

  • Late Night Freestyle

    #PassportToBrexit

     

     

  • Some real fresh shit

    …what does it all mean?

    …watch out kid, watch yer’ back, keep it on point. Wobble, but come back to your center. Make it count, everything counts. All our days are numbered, and littered with the lettered. Let us play. rewind,  forward, future calling, humming your song, calling, singing, shouting you. Oi, listen, look, read, engage with me, these thoughts, those days and weeks, years flowing on, all remembered in this, the moment of come and go. A jig before the drilling, a swig before the shelling. Oh, the shelling, the mourning and the morning, the nights of sean and of shem, of Alice and Molly. All of our night if we want them, do you want it? have to be headstrong for revelations, for transformation, translation, change.

    Do you want change, or status quo? young or old, conservative or liberal, break out. Bust loose. Get out from under the boot and toot your toot. Time is running out, the sand falls, the planet spins, seasons change, birds chatter and call, bears road, crickets rub theIR lil’ legs together, wolves howl and howl, can you hear them? do you hear the calling? the pipes of old, the ocean and wind and flames and tectonic plates grinding, pushing and pulling, tidal waltz. This energy boosts the boots, to get out and walk, face the rain and cold. get up, get out, Stand, shout, dance, sing. This is the time for humans to be human and walk, talk, laugh and move. Now.

    On the island, the tension builds in cycles, resolving and catching up with each other, falling and rising together at once, hope and fear, spiralling out, truth and lies, beauty and the ugly spun into threads, moving through the dawn branches of the trees, the silhouette of a city falls away, the sun bursting through the smoke and haze, the noise of traffic lost in the music of branches, leaves, grass and bird song. The force stronger the further away one gets from the bank, the earth and soil greet the feet like royalty, the mystery builds, flowers bloom and die, fungus creeps, night and day pass, the twilight and mi-light, the Toa and the sung from the dung, the Witch elm and the sheep song, the monolith and the megalith, the stone, the page and the hieroglyph. Descending underground.

    Facing facades, haunting sleep people, shades and blotches of men, women, pets, objects, connected by a force including Tesla and Einstein. Mad scientists and visionary artists, skipping down the lanes, through the blooms and blossoms, wind in hair, hand on heart, flute and cello, oboe and turntable darting through the body, across the moors, up out the clouds, into outer space, back to the mantle, the waves, the deep sea sinkholes and as yet undiscovered caves. The arctic tundra, the desert hot songs of rivers lost to man, to the unseen pathways cut by ants and clever rodents, to the homing pigeon, dolphin sonar and tardigrade I raise my hat. Signed, sealed delivered I’m yours, most earnestly, Steven Pratt. Trumpets and French horn fade out to repeating theme. Time, love, family, action. truth beauty, health, satisfaction. Fiction, narrative, justice, language, hope, dope, divinity, clarity.

    On closing, all channels are open. International, all beings, spirits, demons, angels and entities. Land close by, I’ll see you good. No need to sweat it, take it easy, let the intuition guide the ladder and the slide, snakes, take a ride. Ups and downs all the way, left-brain, right brain let the sea sway the river bank pay. Rudderless, fearless, the boat powers on, land after land, island after island, in service of harmony, fuck the money, I want life. I want truth and heart, shared resources, good sources, well meaning folk. From every inch of this cosmic yolk, for this place I bow and give thanks, I wish I could change war tanks into fish tanks. I want to turn guns into walking sticks, bombs into gardens, chemical weapons into clean drinking water. With the help of new technology the world can evolve into an artists paradise, where goats play jazz and we visit art openings in the forest by mice.

    Oh, Akhnaton, Ankh, what Egyptian deities drift about my pipe? in the book, under the stairs, in your stares, in these tales, the psycho tempo, the stabbing and double bass violin wounds, nearly horror but then mystery and wonder, moving arpeggios, across scale, through the woods. Into the forest, out the burrow, running, away from the city, blinded by human glutton, leaping against the urban lights, darting past trunks and over barbed wire fences, sweating and striding further out toward the moon, jumping higher, as if pursued by demons with chattering teeth, always just a hair’s whisker behind, our dream hero streams away, the sun rises, the corn fields glow golden, the water can be heard trickling ahead, the birds sing a familiar song again, the pipes lead the low hero home, tuba and french horn greet the intrepid tripperdome. Resolve, dinner, kick off the slippers. Open are the double doors, stars streak in. Open, unlocked, soothing nectar dripping off the spoon. Can I lick it? let freedom reign and ring.

    Flies, can you believe it. octopi and mosses gather, in chorus. An uprising, a tidal movement. pollen on the air. Spores. Oh, my. How they do connect underground. Naturally, blooming. Continents collide, stars fizzle, we breath and find a way out. Out and over around, through, off. My head buried in natural sands of Tulum, under the water with crocodiles, away in the canopy, deaf from the relentless marching bands of New orleans, the elephants and lost rhino, oh, the damage done. Capitalism. Oh, oh, the news, the toxic opposite of just an innocent puddle, of any way out of the muddle, the murk, the constant bickering of the berserk, the loons, all knowing folk of two moons, abuse of the language,  coercion, sewing of hate, divide, the split, the shit of it all. Forget that. The bee is trying to tell me, trying to get through to my thick skull, time is tight, maybe this, maybe tonight? to wrap up, rhyme up, post up, post it. Go on. Fish my bike out the canal, save a mystery.

    –Steve Fly

    Amsterdam, 02.44 A.M. Saturday 19th May, 2018.