| Diary of an Encrypted Linguist…. Brigadire Sir Arthur Munhhausen…Mrs. |
[Dec. 14th, 2003|02:08 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | fucking pissed! | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Barber Shop Emcee's- "music, money and women (instrumental)" | ] | I’m dangling a hook in the water- Pulling on the first to bite- Reality’s a disturbin’ fright- leaving me as the nervous type, I’m just a suburban white, Who purchases merchandise and plugs circuits into my epidermis tight, I turned atheist, But they don’t think the conversion’s right- And after bourbon- my perversion might Take a person's life with a surgeon's knife... All this Ritalin, got me feeling like Gilligan being caught with Thurston’s wife- And in the dream, this is what my version’s like: …*I know…it’s bad*, but Ginger is a virgin dike, and Mary Ann’s a hoe- The professor killed himself listening to Barry Manilow- Skipper’s dressed in flannel clothes and smoked Turkish Camel Golds, And somewhere off the Southern Atlantic coast, I became a novelist, Who lost his wish from an optimist, Telling Mrs. Howell, “to gobble this obelisk ‘til it clogs your esophagus”, Then jumping into a sarcophagus-
And signing my epitaph with nothing more than anonymous… |
|
|
| Agent Orange...seriously |
[Dec. 13th, 2003|01:01 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | creative | ] |
| [ | music |
| | BENEFIT-thinking nothing | ] | Stanley Kubrick: the greatest filmmaker of all time, Had a truly unique and creative store of ideas in his mind. His ingenious pictures And intelligence, Of genres and mixtures with thematic elements, Were more than shadows from fixtures or lens developments. All his scenes were perfected to the fullest, And few could have had such an achievement captured. He was never lenient with the actors, Or gave in to any types of concealment of his raptures. His camera brought about such a well-crafted silent diction, From war, horror, comedy and science-fiction To historical drama, psychosexual-trauma with love and violence mixed in. His talent is a one of a kind that other mortals mimic, Never with the formal gimmicks And pushing actors beyond their morals and normal limits. He was a perfectionist who made sure he had enough shots of a scene, So his thoughts and dreams Would be shown accurately into plots and themes That would eternally walk the screens. Even today they remain beautifully therapeutic, And in most movies by Stanley Kubrick, Atmospheres run smoothly with classical music- Providing a setting synchronized to the actors’ movement. So when watching one, don’t mute it, And listen carefully, To the subtle satire of his verbal dexterity. He was more of a doer than a talker, And his first film was a 16 minute documentary of life in the day of a boxer. With hardly any beginning errors, He went on to create the Flying Padre, Fear and Desire and the Seafarers. Things went well and he received a large amount of public attention, Which loosened the tension, And he filmed The Killer’s Kiss and The Killing with no budget to mention. His distinctive themes and visions would map a story, And he next filmed Kirk Douglas in Paths of Glory- Classified in the anti-war category. He next made Spartacus, showing the fight for freedom And importance of being independent, Followed by the controversial Lolita, With James Mason chasin’ the adolescent for contentment. All his films were projected with such clarity, Especially the dark comedy of Dr. Strangelove’s parody Running parallel to our ignorant leaders and their apocalyptic popularity. His amazing screenplays and oral oddities, Revealed monstrosities that opened brains like lobotomies For the velocity of 2001: A Space Odyssey. His head held ideas jumbled in such an awkward storage, And did I mention him getting death threats thru Fed Ex for making A Clockwork Orange? His work will never fall to oblivion, Especially after this non-fiction-vision, darker than obsidian depiction of Anthony Burgess’s brainwashing a punk to a citizen. This film was banned in England to become a coastal matter, But soon after he astonished audiences with Barry Lyndon voyaging up the social ladder. Five years then later, He shook viewers in The Shining with Jack Nicholson’s behavior as the insane caretaker. After this he made Full Metal Jacket, and showed once again to homo sapiens That war changes humanitarians into blood-thirsty barbarians. In the self-discovery of Eyes Wide Shut, It was apparent, That Kubrick wanted Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman’s marriage to appear blatantly transparent, It worked, and I’ll make a near wager, That they divorced each other no more than a year later. The theme is, that people will be pompous, To cover up their guilty conscience And a head filled to the brim with an assortment of filthy contents. His final movie that he did not get to finish was Artificial Intelligence, Completed by Spielberg’s impediments... That does not pay true homage to Stanley Kubrick’s remembrance. |
|
|
| I Fell Thru a Cloud…and Landed into Beelzebub’s Lair |
[Dec. 13th, 2003|12:59 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | determined | ] |
| [ | music |
| | DJ ELI | ] | Our past problems were well-known, But don’t hang up your cell phone- Drowned in bell tones, Cause this is it before I’m crowned on Hell’s throne,
It’s soft on my feet, like wearing gel shoes, But one day walking on a cloud I fell thru Yelling up with things I never got to tell you, So here they are cause I’ll burn up in the fires of Hell soon: The times that we fought, They may have been distorted, Your face was gorgeous but my words were morbid And got rewarded with a hung up cordless and a wilted orchid, But now my time above was short lived, And there were things that you never heard from me- You had my heart for eternity, But the start for emergency Had it nervously disturbing me… And now I’m urgently On the run ever since above I murdered three Just for peace, love and currency, Falling rapidly/ Thru the air, While you’re attacking me with your glare And mentalities were aware That this was used just to fill hours, Instead of trying to build towers We devoured all our will powers… I’m still sour- your skilled coward, Who waits until showers Bringing back the killed flowers That bloom with petals, I start smelling fumes of Devils Perfumed in meadows, And thru these tombs of rebels They rush like remedies thru my nostrils Of love buried deep with fossils- But wait, now I’m being chased by heavenly apostles And these enemies are hostile- My destiny’s a lost hope Getting hit from souls wrapped in robes with deadly crossbows Goin’ across coasts , Over hills- lakes, and fields of wheat, And thru the brake, it revealed a fleet… Of demons who concealed deceit Wielding heat From down below- sealed in deep, I prayed soon that my eyes be healed with sleep Because I wake at night since the day’s a curse- Blinking just to praise the worst- Feeling crazed at first, Then the sun’s rays will burst Coming to invade my turf And set ablaze a church- Hell has been, it’s evident, raised from earth…
I’m only normal- I hear laughs- but mostly chortles From spirits of these lonely mortals Trapped in unholy portals
(in process of completion) |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| |
|
|