Friday, November 25, 2011

THE GIRL WITH IMMACULATE HAIR




THE GIRL WITH IMMACULATE HAIR



It was just before dawn, when immaculate and forlorn, Beth stood by and asked me to tangle her top.

Now this is terribly formed and messily drawn, but the story continues, I said `what?`



She said `My hair isn`t a mess, and it`s causing me stress` her knees landed on the bed- KER-PLOP!




Well, before the thought reached my head, I had leapt out of bed, both feet hit the floor KER-THUD!

`C`mon` said my mouth and we raced through the house, in the dark because it was just before dawn…

Well, we tripped on the rag which was an old rug we once had, and slid on the floor KER-OUCH! Because the wall stopped our slide!

And as the sun rose outside, we could see where we were and where we had been. We could see our beds where we`d slept, and the hallway we`d not crept, and there from the floor where we`d fallen, not a rug/rag

but your messy bag! KER-YAY!

Well this bag was very unusual and obviously so, it had two black shoes with two rainbow stockinged legs, silver and gold shapes on the side and a sturdy zipper on top. KER-WEIRD!


Well, just in the `nick of time`, whatever that means, we emptied the bag all over the floor.

You let out a scream at the things you`d just seen, with my ears on my fingers I said `KER-WHAT?!`



A spider? A mouse? A Hippolotomouth?

You smiled and said `No silly! It`s my STAR!`

Now, if you donot know, because you never have known, the star is a book for your dreams, if you write them all down and read of them often they can become much more real than they seem.

Well, with a pen Beth begun as she had done on pages 7 5 3 and 2; her wish for less than immaculate hair, and as her teeth bit the pen, an idea with such wit formed again, she wrote the first word

KER-UREKA!

On page 9 she divined that in the bag she would find, some spirally springs made of metal.

Would this have been different if her name wasn`t Beth, but maybe Hansell or Gretal?

And, as naturally you would do, as I once did it too, I wondered what 7 5 3 2 said.



Well, on page 7 she`d written as a matter of fact, that she needed some SPARKLY CLIPS.



On page 5 the word CONUMDRUM (which is a problem to be undone), and after that A FULL FIST OF STARS…



On page 3 she had FRESH, then, FLOWERS and then, ANICHA (meaning renewed all the time).



And on page 2 was the first thing, and hardly a `WOW!` thing, she had wrote just simply, A COMB.



Well, I returned with the springs and she re-read what she`d writ, in the order that she first wrote them down.



A COMB, FRESH, FLOWERS, ANICHA, A FULL FIST OF STARS, AND CONUMDRUM (with a line through it, meaning problem solved), EUREKA! (which in the Greek language means `a very good idea`), which obviously the spirally springs were.

Now I`m sure that you can guess, we managed to make quite a mess, of young Beth`s immaculate hair!


So we successfully stayed where we sat and we played and we laughed, until we got hungry and went and made breakfast.



THE END/BEGINNING


Friday, August 26, 2011

friendsoftheperformers- you never know

Well we survived another year on the road, I must have high 5´d 100 000 or so kids this year, so I guess between the two casts that´s around half a million high fives altogether. The final tour for our troupe was ecuador, colombia, peru and costa rica (we got kicked out of costa rica shortly after arrival but more on that later.) The other team did Brasil and Mexico.
Unfortunately I donot know how to use our editing software so what was going to be three 4min clips is just one long one, I can reccommend you check out the clip taken at the Museo del Oro (gold museum) in Colombia.
For more photos of our tours check out www.facebook/richardcertain




The Industry - DMX


WAR: I Dreamt of a Big Headed Baby (draft)

WAR: I Dreamt of a Big-headed Baby (mp3)
I dreamt of a big headed baby
a toddler already learnt to walk
old enough to understand
 and do as its told
but not enough to talk
I saw a picture in my head
 babies crawling on the ground
on leashes like dogs
 being led into a fog
families of the disappeared
taken and never found



All in a row, babies lined up like ducks
semi-automatics across their backs
pistols in their hands drool on their lips
 and soft pink kevlar jackets


I heard a story from Bobby once
I believe it so it's true
 a covert mission, a bus, a compound
soldiers ordered to close their eyes no visable will to denounce

 it's true
mothers' breasts sliced off and thrown in mounds
of babies skewered on metal forms
al sheron condemened his Israelites
another shamed secret found
from the book of torn



In Vietnam the average age was nineteen
 sent to wage a war on man
but the Vietcong were smaller
 
the tunnels the height of which only
wee babies there could ran,
 they are the width of hips
the traps all set to provoke and poke
and spike and maime and spit
A baby blows bubbles whistles and laughs
oblivious of his shit
Happy to sit in poo while somewhere
 someones elses son rubs his hands and points
and whispers I want you too

Thursday, February 17, 2011

•Morelia cemetario 2010- Mexico

•Morelia cemetario 2010- Mexico
For me it's a curious thing
To come from the flesh
To feel a life wash over my skin
A pebble Amidst a lost river of people
Flowing far from their source
To hard urban jungles
That strangle the earth
A million beating hearts march
Two feet close to the earth
When decay finally rolls up
As the foam washes the shore
A billion unheard poppings
Of seeds that are no more

In this urban jungle place
Where nobody sleeps
they build tiny houses
And once a week do sweep
Away the dust and earth gathered
Around their corazon
The transient tissues
Of paper and flesh
Once born are all now gone
A curious thing don't you think
Not a clever little trick
That at the source of the river
We try to hold nothing with brick
The steel fleur de leas garnish
A glass fragile coloured cross
And the trees take root on rafters
To show that you are lost
We travel separated
away from the one source
But all rest as one together
in places not south
And not north
Not inside the houses we visit
And so tenderly do sweep
But inside each one of these bodies
we curiously keep

The Road to Potosoi

The Road to Potosoi
Ribbons of birds
Float silkily through the evening sky
Over a mecano San franciscan pueblo
Power housing rows of lies
Insignificantly ordered
Beneath the sinking suns majesty
We pass the seering sierran ridges
Our lights now burning
The soon black sky

Monday, January 17, 2011

If you I.D yourself to me

If you
I.D yourself to me
I will know your name.
If you
talk to me
i will know who you are
If you
listen i will know you care
If you
do care i will too
If you
don't care i'll still be there
Wondering who you are
and what if you were

Sunday, January 16, 2011

•The difference between me

•The difference between me
and the white on the tree
Is the ants climb up me.
The xylaphone mariachis play
As the cars shudder over judderbumps
The chaotic harmony of wood over metal as they compete to
Fill the spaces left by the plaza church bells
Uneasily complementing the birds jumping like notes atop the white
based trees,
their long fanned black tails marking time with their shrills of sharps
and flats
And lastly the thrill of the trill of the traffic policepersons
whistling
The shiny Spongebob and hart balloons
And the shiny church, the Palmas in the plaza...
and the palming of blue maize tacos
A cool dusky evening, air tainted with roasting coffee
This Is the union between air
and what matters
take me back to orizaba
Where the white on the tree is me

•Keep off the grass

•Keep off the grass
The bees are courting the flowers in the tress
The ants on their daily marathon,
Eating cutting walking
The nameless winged insects too small to catalogue
Infinite numbers of them
gracefully filling the spaces
where we aré not
The finely spun spider silk
cascading between grass stalks
High as kaula lumpar
Empty shells left by flirtatious shy squirrels
All busy in their micro cosmos
Keep off the grass

•Simply said

•Simply said
I wished i were dead
After three years of hiking
Where nothing was said
Different voices and different tongues
Strolling avenidas
Climbing the villas
Parking my carcass
In my hammock on vistas
Waking up on the streets
Sleeping on beaches
Not waking up as dead
As the lone mosquito on my foot
Dengue for breakfast
it's just not for me
I climb down from the flamenco view
I stare at the citadel sky
The morning blushes to see me
And Venus quietly leaves the room
My head banging cachasa rythyms
And black beer anecdotes
And detangle my web catcher
From the cut tail of a caught kite
A paper-cut tounge now ever silent

•Leaving DF

•Leaving DF
Too flattreringly sweet to be substancial
Too deliciously tart to deny
She's simply smoke and mirrors
And Makes No reflection in my eyes
She walks like water rippling
Smiles and disarms a bomb
Her lips when they blow are crippling
My crutch my torment my sun
When she slums
She's drinking champagne
When she's high
She'll fly with you
But she'll leave you in her airey
And there's nothing you can do
there's no cage door to leave open
You can leave but not return
It's not the jump that'll kill you
But the bump that leaves you burned

Coming out of my cage and I've been doin just fine
Gotta be down because I want it all
It started out with a kiss
How did it end up like this
It was only a kiss it was only a kiss
Now I'm falling asleep and she's calling a cab
While he's having a smoke and she's taking a drag
Now they're going to bed and my stomach is sick
And it's all in myhead but she's touching his chest now
He takes of her dress now let me go
Now I just can't look it's killing me
And taking control
Jealousy turning tricks into the sea
Churningthrough sick lullabyes
Choking on your alibis
But it's just a price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eagle eyes because I'm mr brightside
I'm coming outof my cage and I've been doing just fine
Gotta gottabe down because I want it all
It started out with a kiss how did it end up like this
It was only a kiss.....repeat
I never i never i never I never

Chili burn notices

Chili burn notices
Shivering street dog getting cozy mendoza cuddles from Kate
Fruit and veges at the border choclo the sniffer dog
Not mine but The fine is fine
Always disorganised, misinformed
Took a day to discover The kitchen
'no you wait, we can die!'
Romeo falls off stage
but not on his sword
Thundercats vs rugrats
Silver malecate banging the cop car being pursued down the street
Toothpaste fights & pisco sours
Lost passport and actor M.I.A
Plucking eyebrows whilst crossing The Andes
Back home to Bs As
Just another day At The office..

Beautiful Chile i am a small piece of you

Beautiful Chile i am a small piece of you
Long since removed
You aré a mountain range
And i am of the Landa of the long white cloud
Just as beauty equals mountains
So aré flat Lands to those small enough
To see the road rising before them
Chile 2010

• bracken and straw, cement and steel

• bracken and straw, cement and steel
Past the flat dusty pampas
And the sepia tinted hills of Córdoba
We fly speedily and wingless
The van is our protón
The earth our núcleos
Its metal shell our cell walls
Our soft shells shake and vibrare
Like eggs in a spinning basket
Our minds our nucleous
But not nearly as still
Outside
Amidst the bracken and straw bushes dry, spinefrerous and wasted
Spindly Departementos para pajaritos
Adornar a lado de la ruta
Aves artesanos construí chaotic Rustic condos all comfort y con
califacion
Relatively related Live and loud
static with dusky chatter
Silent High tensión stretching
between the lifeless and leafless trees
Occasionally markers flash below
amongst the wild web of nature
With its myriad of medium and miniture sized stick shaking inhabitants
Mens Red saintly flags
perch borrowedly below
on gods dull bushes
giving shelter to another good fortune saint
We move waiting to arrive
Past another small slice of life
Passing cement houses homes tombs and vaults
Topped across with man made totems
Surrounded by moré non significant totems tensioned with wire
Keeping nothing in and nothing out
Like fish in the desert
bleached and blindly swimming nowhere
We fly speedily wingless
Moving Waiting to arrive

•Im not dead but i am dying

•Im not dead but i am dying
Im not sad but im crying
When i look into my world
I se you running insane
Doinng the same say you don't like
But you speak and your actions
Make me shame
I rather spend a day in a hole
Living with the earth
Than watch you on the tv
Can you see so small
The things where you stand
Your eyes and ego and belly
Aré fat beyond your girth
Happy jolly silly
You aré barely Life on earth

•In the illuminating filtered light of dawn

•In the illuminating filtered light of dawn
She wakes exposed, alone
Still Surrounded by the emulsified sheets
Scented with the chemistry of loves process
But it is her last night in a darkened room
With An open eye to taste
to savour and flavour
She rises and sets to packing
and leaves
Traverses easily and happily
her world beneath the sun
Amongst New Diverse Incenses,
spices and cultures
With irises at full apeture
She sees through shutters
Both Open and closed
And clicks

La puesta del sol

La puesta del sol
Mira fijamente intenso
Para atrás la línea del horizonte
Distante arrugas cima de un monte
El Recogando las nubas sobre
Y guiñando buenos noches a yo
The Sunset stares at me intensely.
From beyond the horizon
the distant wrinkled mountain
gathers the clouds about him
and winks goodnight to me...
For Andi from the Andes 2010
mira puesta de sol intenso, hasta el horizonte detrás de las arrugas
colina distante de la Reunión de Nuba y guiñando buena noche para mí

Friday, January 14, 2011

Letter to Anon (A WORK IN PROGRESS to be remixed mix with Bill Evan´s NYC´s no lark)

Listen!
Letter to Anon (A WORK IN PROGRESS)

Time has passed, the birds have flown
You say you have a seers eye, you can seewhere they`re heading
I look up and can only see their shit falling
I pushed play but actions belied and betrayed your feelings
You call me a player! but I know I've been played
Had I played the slayer you probably would have stayed
Both of us caught in a moment, not waiting  when waiting means passing love by
If I made a mistake it was thinking our seam or swell was stronger
 than the rocks and waves crashing around us, over us
Maybe I was not listening to my intuition
bullshit. You filled our lives with people who served to distract you from your own tempest
serve themselves of you and your time and mine
A clearer head would be had without the clouded shit of others I have no need or want of them
you called them to you, you had your reasons, but you don't share
I value and appreciate your caring to help, but you dont need anymore reasons
I dont need help or saving just the love of a good woman, just a heart to soothe my battle weary soul, and less of this poetic shite; I miss the calm love I felt when looking into your eyes; am I wrong, is it now contempt looking back at me?
Will it mirror back to you

No need for petty dramas, you cannot drive someone to a place at your pace, not if you are wanting to be somewhere else Excuses, you really just want to run to your crutches
I don't give a fuk, I am patient, but our time is not forever and can stop at any moment; fuk waiting!
Now was the right tick of the clock, I wanted a lifetime, believed in a season, but I barely got sense or reason. Tick tick boom!
You need protection from your own creations not any outward daemons or gangstas
Happiness is not in waiting
Happiness is not in someone you help
Happiness is not in the solace of strangers
Happiness is not in the approval of your family
Happiness is not in the forsaking the love of a lover
Happiness is not found waiting with you in a locked box
Happiness lives in your unfettered heart and flows freely for you to share

Listen!

Skodi Jodi

Skodi Jodi

Crotchless, Skanky, Laughy, Dopey, Sneezy, Doc and you
Snow White was Cocaine 
for my Shoe kicked her Arse and kicked the Rabbit
The Monkey Laughed and kicked my Habit
Seventy plus I may have a Clue-
if I don't drown in my own piss.
I hate that smell, it makes me gag-
and that 'aint funny..