Friday, January 13, 2012

Gotta be a Resolution


Gotta be a Resolution
 
Well, there`s gotta be a resolution, yea, y`know
we all want to change the world
There`s always more than one solution, yea, y`know
this means, you gotta understand
If all the apples and pears and bananas all went to war,
because they thought they knew best
we`d just end up with three less fruit in the world
and a juicy pulpy mess
So, there`s gotta be a resolution, yea, to understand
We all want the world to change
and remember because of evolution, the more things change the more they stay the same
this means, you gotta understand (everything changes)
cause if you believe that it is then it is, even if it`s not
that`s the paradox of life, because
because if you are then you are and he is even if he is not
all that matters in the end- is that you`re happi, with you
and you know its gonna be allright.......
 

`things as they used to be`


`things as they used to be`
 
I`m not sure, if you know, what i mean
things were going just fine,
 `till you messed with time...
now i`ve lost, my husband, to be.
i, want things back, as they used to be
if you don`t fix it, i`ll fix you
(chorus)
I want things back as they used to be, again
I`m not sure, if I know, what you mean
I didn`t know it was a crime, to go back in time
but now we`re not where we`re supposed to be
you  dont have to be mean
maybe you can help me, and I`ll help you
we want things, back, the way they used to be. too
 

`What`s wrong, where did we go wrong?`


song tiempo allegro
 
 `What`s wrong, where did we go wrong?`
 
Well, here we are. And where is that? And why are you wearing that silly hat?!
Well there you go again, this is not a game, I don`t know where we are, it`s no good to complain.
What`s wrong? Where did we go wrong?- what`s wrong where did we go wrong?
Butterfly in a hurricane- storm in a teacup don`t get in a flap
Keep yourself centered, close your eyes
It`s just the nature of the way things are-
So long as you don`t give up, keep on on trying to find out who you are
The plot is simple, and the stage is set
To find out life`s secrets, don`t forget sometimes things are not as they seem
Is reality just a dream....

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