this aint no time for same old-ing (a tonal drawing written in poetic form

this aint no time for same old-ing

we here voraciously crouching down
decorously-ing in the toothless jaws
of crippled scared crippling hyenas
why here am we splashing with you
and all the rest of us swimming too
in this shit floating ‘round
everywhere like we through
confusion’s drinking all the strength
most everybody saying “i caint”
same as them who saying “i aint”
we here voraciously crouching down
decorously-ing in the toothless jaws
of crippled scared crippling hyenas
our hands they tied
by this noise we fed feeding
this clot in our heads
spinning paralyzing motions
shackling our legs
so laying here still is how we dred
very little difference from being dead
we here voraciously crouching down
decorously-ing in the toothless jaws
of crippled scared crippling hyenas

so what are we wantonly supposing (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

so what are we wantonly supposing

with in this what we’re calling space
never see’n all it’s boundless face
why are we plotting our own disgrace
to leave somehow a visible trace
i’m scared of all that’s unknown
so i’m brewing a make-believe
‘cause this is how i do conceive
this whom i’m portraying it is
so what’s the big secret of being
‘cept jellyrolling my seeming
and fricasse-ing my scheming
with in this what we’re calling space
never see’n all it’s boundless face
why are we plotting our own disgrace
to leave somehow a visible trace
to where am i following what
does it really matter with all i’ve got
if every where’s just some where else
why am i even caring to dare
so what’s the secret to being
‘cept jellyrolling my seeming
and fricasse-ing my scheming
with in this what we’re calling space
never see’n all it’s boundless face
why are we plotting our own disgrace
to leave somehow a visible trace
if this is up when then it’s down
is this a smile or grinning frown
aim i spinning or winding down
what does it mean to say i’m free
inside this so-called mystery
so what’s the secret to being
‘cept jellyrolling my seeming
and fricasse-ing my scheming
‘cept jellyrolling my seeming
and fricasse-ing my scheming
‘cept jellyrolling my seeming
and fricasse-ing my scheming

why come you doing me like this (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

you just waste’n yo’ damn time
‘cause i aintgon be this who
you always showing here for me
‘cause this sho aint the one i’m want’n
running around acting like it’s me

why come you doing me like this

how come you there laughing at me
wearing all these different kinda faces
huddling here in the pockets of my eyes
that i keep try’n on one after another
‘cause none of ‘em aint making
aint none of ‘em making me their size
this why i’m always running on
to the next one i’m git’n memorized

and i’m !hate’n! the one
you always having here for me
—this ugly damn face that’s mine
just there wait’n here in behind
that splashing loud addicting glittering
of all them sponsored synthetic druthers
so you spiteful old cheap piece of glass
you can kiss my goddamn ass!
‘cause this one you be showing here
sho as hell aint what i wanna see
i’m-going-out-some-where-right-now!
‘n find a new ‘nother other for this sham
a one who at least for today
i gon be make’n like it them
who i am

amen’n ’cause i’m!tired! . . . (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

amen’n ‘cause i’m!tired!of feeling like me
(always lining-up somewhere waiting to be had)

this swelling debilitationing
of eluding delusive illusionationings
is sucking everything up
and religiously crucifying us all
as zombies hypnotically dancing
clamorously amening! ourAMEN-ING!
sway’n in algorithmic automationings
of our traditional drumming strummings
and saturday night dos-si-dor-ings
blithe broadway vocal-lationings
and toxic arena inhalationings
so be acting like we feeling sump’n real
in these numbing collapsing veins
of our emptying synthetic arms
as congressively we’re all overriding
what’s left of any notion of alarm

most all of us all are just squanderers
pretentiously pondering wanderers
hallucinating in fancy abandoning malls
penthouse stalls and wet low rent halls
suburban palls and trailer park drawls
all alone in coffling crowds of begging eyes
vicarious junkies we running back’n’forth
in pluming hair-do’s tattoos tobacco chews
and brand new 5^thavenued alligator shoes
spandexing with everything we muse
‘cause aint none of our trump cards working
aint working no mo’ like they ‘sposed
we just hustling’n’hustling anyway we can
here trying to hiding behind just being seen
snorting like this“!aint nothing but’a thang!
if you keep on sucking up it won’t be long
‘fo all’us all be here feeling just the same!
. . . coming’round forever go’n on around

atlantic moorings (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

atlantic mooring

glistening sheets of scrolling waters
drumming on in resounding billows
wet humming oracles unfolding there
nourishing darkening trepidationings
reverently enthralling wondering tongues
in loud roaring echoes leaving their trace
undauntingly entangling on
here across your face

by the stark emancipationing of this moon
staring on through cavern crevices homemade
silently kneading assuaging this fear inside
wrap’n’round the musclings of our strides
so these bronze shackled imprinting soles
aint froth aloning for the leave of wet sands
drying scared in hubrisating emulationings
who here begging unbeknowingly awaiting
the mutual beholding of kindred hands
emanating of our native humane

obedient you feeding this tumultuous
flooding here in our wondering souls
with snarling notion-nings crashing there
attacking foreboding wallings of this hold
nourishing the epic will of all them daring . . .
when so quietlying on back out on into then
and now on your way forth on up here again
embracing us all in this womb with its sway
pronouncing on and on of this cosmic way

choral-lizing jubalizing . . . (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

choral-lizing jubalizing a stultifying dis-synergizing

coffling eyes numbing in the humm drumm sunging
of clamorous hustlers pluming in talented tenth–ing clubs
this ancient hubris  still scheming in gangs gangling on
leeching the blood of us all   spilling here looking
it mo’ insidious now nesting in nefarious vocalizings
anesthetizing synthesizings   of old rhythmating charms
dissolving all of us denying on in our rusing refusals
to just pause while here inside   and reverently muse
scared   we all stumbling running ‘round trying to hide
from this colding emptying   swelling torridly inside us
desperately fusing   propagating on out here all around
aloning is eroding the sands of our beaches
swallowing ourselves on in our own entangling arms
playing to the blaring sirens of this persistent dismaying
coffling eyes numbing in the humm drumm sunging
of clamorous hustlers pluming in talented tenth–ing clubs
this ancient hubris  still scheming in gangs gangling on
leeching the blood of us all   spilling here looking
it mo’ insidious now nesting in nefarious vocalizings
anesthetizing synthesizings   of old rhythmating charms
dissolving all of us denying on in our rusing refusals
to just pause while here inside   and reverently muse
standing up leaning we feeling around on our knees
snorting vain delusions of masturbating hands
shuffling our scant aborting ponderings of why
consuming all everything grabbing way ‘fore it comes
there is no anchoring ground to which we will bound
hypnotically sucking our dry brittle bones of renown
and rehearsing our vaunting howling enthrallings
so you knowing my face is the one that’s in vogue
just in case it be the case that we come to be found
coffling eyes numbing in the humm drumm sunging
of clamorous hustlers pluming in talented tenth–ing clubs
this ancient hubris  still scheming in gangs gangling on
leeching the blood of us all   spilling here looking
it mo’ insidious now nesting in nefarious vocalizings
anesthetizing synthesizings   of old rhythmating charms
dissolving all of us denying on in our rusing refusals
to just pause while here inside   and reverently muse

what who is this that i being (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

i’ve lost the way
of what there’s left
of me that i brung
in them ship how i come
in this room it dark
caint see where my face
caint tell who this is
caint find where this place
how far is i from
this here where i come
how long i must go
‘fore will i never gon know”

what who is this that i being

who is this i say’n is me
the one outside through whom i see’n
or somebody else i wish’n i am
what’s this i feeling i cannot see
this hole it here inside of me
is i the fault for what i being
or this scared wrapp’n here
around my knees
and what can i supposing to do
if nobody see’n nobody in here
not even me
who dat gon come and rub me warm
when there aint no yesterday
so how come it i always have’n to cry
why come it never nobody else ‘sides me
who’s the one that supposed to die

oracular (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

oracular

only the smell is raising up
from the deep tribal markings
on the dark bodies laid laying there
in they kin folk bowels
shackled down to the bottom
on this cold damp floor
in the belly of Jonah’s slave whales
!and we was told they was coming!
was told long long before
eating things for living they cannot name
scared about the night it filling they head
they listening for the drumming off yonder
low going lower it fading away fast
they left naked there humming
humming here alone
in the loud throbbing silence
resounding there
in the undulating rhythm of the ocean’s roarrr
a mama crying there gnawing on she baby throat
so he aint never! gone die here no more
they have to feed them ones
they burdened there my Lord to carry on
and sown here in this dirt
by many other hands
like it done been told
it was long meant to be[audio

so what are we wantonly supposing

why come you doing me like this (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

you just waste’n yo’ damn time
‘cause i aint gon be this who
you always showing here for me
‘cause this sho aint the one i’m want’n
running around acting like it’s me

why come you doing me like this

nadhiriwrites

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this aint no time for same old-ing (a tonal drawing written in poetic form

so what are we wantonly supposing (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

why come you doing me like this (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

amen’n ’cause i’m!tired! . . . (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

atlantic moorings (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

choral-lizing jubalizing . . . (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

what who is this that i being (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

oracular (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

why come you doing me like this (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)