I woke up stained.
I don’t know when it happened
Maybe it was the recent news
Maybe the cold callous city streets
Maybe the steel structure that divides us
Like that steel I am tarnished
My shine is gone unpolished
I woke up tarnished.
I had a silver shine faded away
Maybe my heart glimmers with dreams of renewal
Maybe there is golden age of true justice and sacred peace
Maybe people are starting to change
Like those people I have changed
My heart is gone stained
First single from upcoming release “Exodus”
Today’s study, a study of the invisible.
Oh children of the universe
Listening intently
Gaze focused out into space
Solemn no longer;
We replace the age old
With today.
Oh you angel
Living in harmony with your being,
No longer will I try to place at your feet that which will never reach, but now is the time, too unshackle ourselves and aspire to the heights offered by the gift of being man and woman.
To actualize that which our eyes and mind have know for so long inside, hark the call my siblings, hark and sing, even if it is hard to believe, for me it is the same, but relish in the name of names which stands a loft for our purpose to shape this into that, the visible a resource to achieve the greatest height, a monument to the invisible which comes down into our world through the bridges we so construct. So build and build, till in one stroke we bridge the gap and in ecstasy stand before the awesomeness possible from a life thus thrust into the torrent that is living amongst shackled minds.
Check out this new mixtape by evening bloom and Malaventura!
Original plunderphonic beats with vocals by evening bloom.
A friend warned me once,
told me to steer clear
that all it gives is pain,
but that’s not how I see it,
the hue can change.
It would be a lie
to say it didn’t feel like I was wilted and dry,
sitting alone wounded, exhausted, spent,
cursing the sun lit contagion.
But to me,
a youngster with his head
full of yellow and orange dreams,
the colors tend to whisper breathlessly,
shift and shimmer
from translucent to opaque,
sometimes coming
as a glossy sheen.
Now though it seems
to be
not the color of dark mystery
but the soft light edge of a dawn,
where it stands above a spread
of complimentaries.
Out of sight, a memory lingering,
a fire light I saw for the first time
when I couldn’t distinguish
between dreams and reality.
Madness is unrefined passion
Passion is exonerated madness
Yak’s milk is sweet
and I drink to no end
No end
like these streets—
I walk every one
and never grow tired
knowing even eternity won’t last forever
and I have a train to catch
out to the countryside, where a mad yak
waits for me
with an infectious smile
with pure milk
which I drink to no end
and think of the endless city streets—
with bronze idols, glass walls,
cemented paths
That is all behind me now
The streets are behind me
The train is behind me
The mad yak is behind me
goading me to keep going to no end
goading me to drink her milk to no end
until the last sap of life is drained
so she can sleep to no end
so her dreams become my dreams
and my dreams travel beyond
the endless city streets
who refuse to sleep
They drink me to no end
consuming the same mad yak visions
that gestate in the womb of slumberless nights
who give birth to babies
that overrun the endless city streets
with cries for yaks milk.
The wails resonate
off skyscrapers as
an admission of want for nothing
other than mother,
an omission of subways, stadium deals,
condo complexes, dreams of electric sheep.
A call for transformation
of pavement to pasture
and the world’s city citizens
to sprout curved horns
grow hooves, don thick coats of fur
and udders and udders
filled with the passion and madness
of yaks milk
By Peter
wave function rolls
over tongue
say it
say it
it again
thoughts like
french kiss
ear lick
mind meld
right thought (check)
right speech (check)
lights
camera
(right) action
communication out
of focus
a monkey teaching a dolphin
to climb a tree
both agree that
oranges are oranges
peel means skin
skin does not mean peel
you can skin a banana
but you can’t peel a cat
you can tuna fish
can the piano
it’s out of tune
false positives
doubly negated negatives
placebos work
if you let them
everything is a matter
of percentages
90% of the time
from vegas to wall street
but I live in kansas
off-broadway is still broadway
paris is still paris
and still burning
I make a claim
then stake it
I have no idea what
that expression means
none of the words I invented
are in the dictionary
I shout them
from rooftops
on cold nights
words are just a song
I don’t know the melody
translate english into
english into english
and the original
meaning is lost
if it had one to begin with
this corn maze means
something but
is too big
for me make it
out alive
I need the bees
to dance my way out
I recite my lines
stage directions say
to exit left
I do
the curtain closes
no one applauds
Moving house
A year of memories
Fun times
Remembering clogged drains
Fluorescent lights
Memories in space
Moving house
A house I outgrew
A year of posession
Moving house
The Sketchy Kids 
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