bishop-nyn

Pawn B-5

2004-11-08T02:10:00.000-08:00

As a sun's solar flare reaches out to be touched

space runs away, recluses itself within.

Melted are millions, a rock simply floating

churning itself over and over as if to find some means to it's end.

Slightly cooler is that of the next, still melting itself,

changing in color, holding shape a bit longer as if a memory,

a memory trying to break through steps taken from cool

water onto a hot, hard land.Intellegence progresses to make creature of sky, sea, and land.

Parasitic in nature, ... arn't we all.No stalls, a value placed yet no number derived.

Only a feeling uncontrollable, so therefor, out of my or anyone else's reach.

It's his. It's hers. To share. To spoil.

Consume these moments to be lifted or left to a new or empty time.

Risk changes all.

Pawn B-4

2004-11-08T01:58:00.000-08:00

Take a breath, relax yourself
clear your thoughts, hold your shelf
turn your page, see your sin
once was lost from within
now is seen with eyes so bright
something lost within a fight
half way 'round a universe bend
holding voice for there it will send
out a message so sweet and so frail
to trust your side as slow as snails
to view the next release of pain
as it softly clouds and cleanses like rain
when shall it find me and how will i know
if it is mine to keep or mine to show
the power that attaches itself to be
recognized and reminded that all are we
but simple humans fighting tooth and nail
for something placed gently within a pail
to be lifted and carried by another we know not
and brought to our flesh to rest and to rot
until anothers moment sparks the flash
of memory, the pain it all will mash
out of the flesh and in to the wind
within a moment it all will send
the evils and goodness blended in dismay
to be found by another, all shades of grey

Pawn B-3

2004-11-02T01:48:00.000-08:00

We claim the present as the pre-sent, as the hereafter.
We are unraveling our navels so that we may ingest the sun.
We are not afraid of the darkness, we trust that the moon shall guide us.
We are determining the future at this very moment.
We now know that the heart is the philosophers' stone
Our music is our alchemy
We stand as the manifested equivalent of 3 buckets of water and a hand fullof minerals,
thus realizing that those very buckets turned upside
downsupply the percussion factor of forever.
If you must count to keep the beat then count.
Find you mantra and awaken your subconscious.
Curve you circles counterclockwise
Use your cipher to decipher, Coded Language, man made laws.
Climb waterfalls and trees, commune with nature, snakes and bees.
Let your children name themselves and claim themselves as the new day
for today we are determined to be the channelers of these changing frequencies
into songs, paintings, writings, dance, drama, photography, carpentry,crafts, love, and love.
We enlist every instrument: Acoustic, electronic.
Every so-called race, gender, and sexual preference.
Every per-son as beings of sound to acknowledge their responsibility
to uplift the consciousness of the entire fucking World.
Any utterance will be un-aimed, will be disclaimed - two rappers slain
Any utterance will be un-aimed, will be disclaimed - two rappers slain

-Saul Williams

Pawn B-2

2004-10-28T22:53:00.000-07:00

WAR IS PEACE

FREEDOM IS SLAVERY

IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH

To the future or to the past, to a time when thought is free, when men are different from one another and do not live alone - to a time when truth exists and what is done cannot be undone:

From the age of uniformity, from the age of solitude, from the age of Big Brother, from the age of doublethink - GREETINGS!

THOUGHTCRIME DOES NOT ENTAIL DEATH: THOUGHTCRIME IS DEATH.

- Winston Smith, Minitrue

Pawn B-1

2004-10-28T20:19:00.000-07:00

The crimson sky's delicate taste
holds true to a prophecy forseen
by, lived by, surpassed by, nurtured by
those souls who passivly forget
through generations.

The crimson sky's abrasive shock
into memories jogged into neurotransmitic bliss
slow me, slowly, gently as giants does a
memory fade, memory spark, memory spiral,
these memories created.

The crimson sky's awarness of a now,
once lived by avoidance, once lived by collective
populations hide from themselves by diving,
diving out of windows to save what hint of a chance,
chances that gravity will be kinder than that of ego.
Please people.....
let go....
again...and again...and again...and again...