My Pure Thing

make more

sense of life

going
further

in

no allusions
are made to
coffee drinking
as
something deep
it is just something
I do, for now, today
something
mentioned
on either side
of the napkin
and the screwdriver
gradually wears
into my palm
forming a blister
and it bursts
putting together
new furniture
from the store the
size of a city

I was like
just let me
build this
last chair!

blood

did not
ask the
lord or anyone
for help
turning those
tighter screws
those
difficult screws

I’ve
stopped that

apartmentalized myself
subjected myself
to that
cats
cheering me up
and listening
to Bane
whose
lyrics you
can’t understand
till you
read the sheet
then you get it
get it all
friends are like
“what is this?”
you
don’t
need to
know

this is purely
my thing
this is
my pure thing
past
Christmas music
and
online shopping
for gifts

the ritual

the two new
Gorilla Biscuits songs
taste awful
what
the hell happened?

flip back to
old Chain of Strength, Rites of Spring…
open the
new Jay-Z, Nas, Outkast albums…

The Wire’s fourth season ends
check out
David Simon’s podcast
to get greater
insight into what
is the anger
of this show
of Baltimore
of any town USA

politics and psychology
police crime
street crime
telling it straight
as straight can get
for… gasp… TV

I am great for me
I’m a good influence
on myself

feared for
awhile
I’d turn up
like the Titanic
and slip under
tied to
alcoholism
or
something else…
but
I prevailed

I kept afloat

I am really
good
to
go

to my
surprise

“Higher Level” KRS-One

Verse one:

After seven years of rockin’
How do you rate me?
Poorly or greatly?
Everybody seems to be goin’ for their’s lately
Yo mad heads be needin’ money
So listen very close as i conduct this little study
See it’s, funny to me, you can watch tv
And give up your life trying to be all you can be
In the army
Not knowin’ your history
You either fight and die or come back home in misery
Yo get with me, i deal with reality
Loosen your mind to the truth, and don’t get mad at me
No politican can give you peace
If you trust jesus, why do you vote for a beast?
Emancipation is long over due
So overcome procrastination
Because freedom is within you
For some reason we think we’re free
So we’ll never be
Because we haven’t recognized slavery
You’re still a slave, look at how you behave
Debatin’ on where and when and how and what massa gave
You wanna know how we screwed up from the beginning?
We accepted our opressor’s religion
So in the case of slavery it ain’t hard
Because it’s right in the eyes of their god
Where is our god, the god that represents us?
The god that looks like me, the god that i can trust?
A god of peace and love, not mass hysteria
I don’t want a god that blesses america
I could never really vote for the devil
Let me take you to a higher level…

Verse two:

Title, take the title from the bible we can get there
Rip the title from off the front of the bible, god don’t live there
Too many inconsistencies, too many mysteries
Picture the pope and the vatican, laughing and drinking and singing and
Kissing me
I stand with god whether i’m paid or whether i’m cryin’ broke
I like to ask these politicans would jesus vote?
The way we view god is a freakin’ shame
Church is to blame
We trust god, but bomb hussein
We simply lovin’ the scripture
Same scripture that whipped ‘cha
Sooner it’ll hit ‘cha
Religion’s gettin’ richer
With that european version of christ made into a picture
Our society’s gettin’ sicker, and sicker, and sicker…
Like liquor, we are god-intoxicated
Not to the true god, but the one the government created
The same governments tellin’ people to vote
I pray to god because the people have lost hope
You either vote for the mumps or the measels
Whether you vote for the lesser of two evils, you vote for evil
Politics and god are not equal
But the education if you don’t guard, is really lethal
People have more respect for a holy book
Than they do for a cow on a meat hook
Belivers of jesus be denouncing satan on every level
But every halloween they’re dressin’ like devils
I pray to you for the light you might give them
Mother make them know that you’re livin’ with them
You begin them and end them in silence
Frankly, if they knew you, they would understand violence
I pray to you for the pope and the vatican
Have mercy mother, cause i know that you’re mad at them
The white jesus deceived us awhile ago
And pope julius the second paid michaelangelo
I know this happened in 1519 yet
This is the image we can’t seem to forget
Vote for god, don’t vote for the devil
Let me take you to a higher level…

Discussing…

In response to a letter:

Moved from DC, I’m liking Houston so far, having been here for almost two years now. I forgot all about Refuse to Fall. I knew those guys back when they were staying in Philly, briefly. I in fact helped fold the sleeves of that 7 inch in the original Equal Vision office there, when I first moved into the Philly temple. Anyway, I don’t remember them as being all that great of a band. One main reason: before they recorded that 7 inch in the studio, I was there when Ray Cappo sat down with them and “helped” them to reshape all the lyrics for those songs so that they would be more in line with Krishna consciousness, Shelter, and the Equal Vision label. That they allowed themselves to be manipulated like that, is not worthy of very much respect. (They are obviously not on the same level with bands such as Bad Brains, and I’m too old now to settle for much less these days.) Nor did it say much for Ray himself (then) or the spirit of the movement to impose like that, as they almost always did, and do now.

As I started to shift to anarchism and realized it was really more in line with the direction I wanted to go in life, Krishna consciousness as a movement and ideology made less sense. There are many other levels of consciousness and experience to dig into that are, in truth, not obliged to answer to Vaishnavism or any other doctrine. You speak of the fallen men and women in the movement, they are indeed a major disappointment. I choose not to identify with them and their crimes and their excuses.

You seem like a nice guy, so please don’t mistake this as an attack on you. But I do like to discuss, and I am surcharged with anger over the matter. I question anyone’s motive for implicating themselves in any religious movement or personal belief in the kind of Supreme Being that puts them in the place of willingly becoming a servant and indebted. This is something I think we as human beings have to rid ourselves of. So it is a matter of atheism, political atheism, and so on. You can always prop up God and say that well, He is the infallible one, and this is our reason for pushing in such and such direction…

Buddhism, on the otherhand, I find much more suitable, because in many cases it is not on a religious or superstitious level, but is the stuff of psychology. By means of openly questioning life and our “leaders” without having to answer to any institution or installed religious belief, we can come to a more relevant truth. Truth is not stagnant.

The Krishna involvement in the hardcore scene, I believe, has exposed some serious psychological weaknesses that need to be addressed. I really think if it weren’t for bands such as Cro-Mags, Shelter, 108, etc., kids would not be so occupied. “Practicing” from home is one thing, but when kids start moving into temples (as I have done), it’s another. Life is seized by the iron fist of the institution. I’ve seen grown men reduced to mice under the authority of teenage bhakta leaders. Does God want this? Does your Soul really want or need this?

If we are not idiots, we are free to enjoy sex, drugs, gambling, and alcohol without being swept up into addiction and slavery. For now, the body, mind, and spirit, are as one. Why, because I say so? YES. Prohibit sense gratification and you only cheat yourself. Not even the best devotee is denying his or herself of sense gratification, mental or physical. Minimized to the mental, there is then always the gratifier of self righteousness.

I say, fuck it. Let it all go. I say, be free.

-BGK

December Notes

Talk of… GOOD INTENTIONS. Just talking. The talk does not manifest itself always into anything other than itself? Let me say, this wisdom pouring out is manifest in the act of humanity’s ability to question. And on top of that, it’s ability to question the question. That is some acid infinity mirror kind of shit, right? You cannot help but to call the mirror absurd, call it for what it is, but still its concept and existence is compelling.

You are asking what your purpose is and whatever answer comes back if in the vague it’s to do good, then what exactly is the point? Is good going in some kind of direction? You would just like to know. Does it matter that humanity will become extinct? If you become an entirely selfless being like you say you wish, don’t you care about the world and what it will become after you are long gone? When the Sun explodes, then what? And if it does, and when it does, why, just why has everything been shot to hell? Is humanity itself not even the point? Is it all simply about electricity, energy, etc.? Won’t someone just call it out? Is humanity to happily make the transition into something else?

. . .

I am not okay with someone all of a sudden flying off on a racist diatribe. I am also not okay with other people pandering to it and adding on just to be social or accommodating. And I am not okay with myself just sitting quiet while it all happens.

. . .

Recovering from this freight train induced coma from the drinking. Morning. Shower to awaken. Coffee to awaken some more. Bounce back, spring to life, jolt cola-esque. Allow the elements of the world to bring out the best in you. Diedrich’s is becoming thoroughly terrible. Our little neighborhood spot has become ruined by the yuppies and the yuppie claw.

. . .

angry man
anger management

I see that angry man at work
and I think
“what a fucking baby”

man reaches that…
he shows
that he’s reaching his limit

and people
laugh at him

he slams a door
for some kind of effect
like at home
fighting with his mom
when he was a kid
a child

and everyone
laughs
at
him

. . .

He wanted to know the pitiful art of lonliness through the act of writing. The traffic light swung jerkily in the evening wind. He didn’t know what to say to her any more, he felt so incredibly stupid and embarrassed by the greasy spot on his pants. The radio station was knocked over by a hilarious wrecking ball, all the people still inside, falling through the floors with alphabetical names though a unalphabetized death.

. . .

After reading one of my poems, someone comments: “I’m sorry your emo band broke up…”