whatareyouthinking

Walking through the cafe
Stalking you just like prey
Making small talk
“How are you today?”

You give me a friendly “fine”
I’m ready with my next line
“What is your job?”
And I can’t wait to tell you about mine!

I work for myself, it’s true
No doubt that you can too
I’m building my business
And it needs someone just like you!

Praising you (who I don’t know)
Putting on a one man show
Now you are flattered
And you’ll go where I want you to go!

I look like your friend
I act like your brother
You were love at first sight
Just like the others
I met here tonight…

Selfish ambitions they hide in disguise
But honey and feces still draw the same flies
The difference between them all lies in the lies
And he don’t see the people
Through dollar signs in his eyes

Come to our meeting place
Meet the heads face to face
To bask in the hype
And our dogma embrace

Zeal for your cult grows
Turn your friends to foes
“They don’t want to be rich?”
Like someone who someone
    who some-one in here knows

Feeling the loneliness
Steeling away your bliss
You curse the day (we met)
As you reminisce about
    the times you miss

We wined and we dined
You never thought me unkind
“You don’t want to be rich?”
Well, if your not on my downline
    you’re no friend of mine! 

I am not your friend!
I am not your brother!
Though it may have looked that way
But for you and yours
I will still prey…

Selfish ambitions they hide in disguise
But honey and feces still draw the same flies
The difference between them all lies in the lies
And he don’t see the people
Through dollar signs in his eyes

© 2006 J. “Xakk” Marshall  (January 14, 2006 @12:55 AM) 

Should’ve done this or
He should’ve known that
Should’ve thought about
It more before he 
Got to where he’s at
Eschewing insight
When all seems ‘old hat’
But this Critical
Eye’s blind as a bat

Hindsight‘s a forest
Trees of yesterday
And no one can see
The foresight for the
Trees are in the way
The heart as a rock
Mind made out of clay
Bowels set on fire
Conscience will betray

Strangers fight like foes in a cold internal war
Making mental trenches filled with dirt to the core
When those things of hate are too easy to explore
Still all can live like friends when we stop keeping score
And we don’t need to be their judges anymore

No, I won’t be the judge—anymore!

Head to head combat
Neither side’s aware
Of fists of Rights and 
Lefts, slanderous blows that
Time will not repair
Judge between Two and
One thinks it unfair
Or for neither nor,
Looks like you don’t care

It may never be
The way it all seems
All partly blinded
By nightmares that crawl
All inside these dreams
Whispers in the dark
Sometimes sound like screams
Seemly shades of gray
May be one’s extremes

Strangers fight like foes in a cold internal war
Making mental trenches filled with dirt to the core
When those things of hate are too easy to explore
Still all can live like friends when we stop keeping score
And we don’t need to be their judges anymore

No, I won’t be the judge—anymore!

© November 25, 2005 @ 2:00 AM by James “Xakk” Marshall 

Man looks upon another man
Who walks and talks with can in hand
And of his can becomes a fan
And is off to buy his own can
Although not really his own can
But the can of the other man
Copied and carried in his hand
And now he thinks he’s better than—

So he greets others can to can
Those who partake in his canned plan
That is, the ones of their own clan
Who all display the same canned brand
Cans don’t work well with other cans
And some cans, the other cans ban
Get out and join some other clan!
Those cans will say from can to can

And always have—from span to span
As only cans know other cans
Or at least as much as cans can
But behind those cans there stands man
Something the cans can’t understand
Nor does man when he talks through cans
And all of man talks can to can
But few have talked from man to man

For Every New Find You Find, You’ll Find
What Fascinates and Captivates The Mind
Though For Every New Theory That’s Defined
Another Piece of the Mind’s Eye Has Gone Blind

Set your psyches to seeker mode
Pick a path or follow a friendly road
Flood of feeding facts fill your mind overflowed
Batting your brains with the banter bestowed

Stop for suggestion or a sense of direction
Merge right minds to mines of hyper reflection
Go for the power of the shower of suggestion
Yield to information superhighway congestion

Learn, though don’t dwell
On the knowledge that’s fleeting
For a day, we may find, again as well
We were treating with bleeding
A disease, who can tell
If the books we’ll be reading
Will be obsoleting
The facts we’re competing
for now?

If the timeless is tested by the test of time;
And music’s still measured with rhythm and rhyme;
The good of the Old and New judged at their Prime;
Then the Test, the Measure, and Judge were all part of the Climb!

Sly statements sliding some slippery slopes
Sharp shooters shouting from the ends of their ropes
Easy-believing-fact-repeating-friction-feeding mopes
Citing sources like swords, sliced to small-scale scopes 

Stop incensing seekers seeking silence from squalls
Merge minds to mend the mess that’s made of mortal flaws
Go for the peace that ceases a concern for the cause
Yield to what makes for peace, and don’t wait for applause

Learn, though don’t dwell
On the knowledge that’s fleeting
For a day, we may find, again as well
We were treating with bleeding
A disease, who can tell
If the books we’ll be reading
Will be obsoleting
The facts we’re competing
for now?

If the timeless is tested by the test of time;
And music’s still measured with rhythm and rhyme;
The good of the Old and New judged at their Prime;
Then the Test, the Measure, and Judge were all part of the Climb!

© 2005 [Sunday February 6 @ 7:00 AM] by J. “Xakk” Marshall

A wise man once said
Or was it something I read?
That a soft word turned away wrath
But another wise man
Put that phrase in a can [and]
Ancient Wisdom turned into math

Still I drank from that cup
Though it didn’t add up
‘til I just spit up—all I had
For my mentors and me
Things did taste differently
And some of them thought I was mad

Faith, Hope, Love, and War
For we’ve heard these words together before
Yet one of these things is not like the other
One of which I don’t wish on my brother
For I don’t want the same crashing on me
No,  I don’t want to be a casualty

Still God bless those fighting for Peace
And may the God of Peace
make the fighting cease!

Though I don’t claim to have all the answers
    or profess to know it—all
I’ve made wars of my own
Placed my home on a throne
    for I’m just a poet—and that’s all

So I ask, ‘who is right?’
God says, ‘Let there be Light’
But Light travels only so fast…
When it comes, sometimes Truth
Hurts like a bad tooth
Close the window [and]
Light doesn’t last

But in the light of the night
The right still make might
And Good still turn the other cheek
For Peace, I’m interested
But pray I’m never tested
For blessed—are the meek  

Fusion of certainty and confusion
Union of reality and delusion
Intrusion of fatality of what life is all for;
Faith, Hope, Love (but not war)

© 2005 J. “Xakk” Marshall  [january 28, 2005 @ starbucks @ sunrise]

In a Universe of Seven Heavens
Grace is in the Eighth
High when we’re within it
Or fall from it
To a ruminated fate
But I won’t stare at the ceiling
Nor affix myself to the floor
But rather look — for a window
Or to behold — an open door
I think these might be everywhere
Although nowhere in sight
So I unearth myself from the atmosphere
And begin to take my flight

Looked bad at the time of its birth
Its looks would change, but not its worth
One second it would ride the wind
And walk on feces, not chagrined
Though in the midst of a public throng
Helps himself to food and flies along

I was still, I was wild
Detached like a child
With a conscience undefiled
And a quiet mind so sound
Without a thought in sight
Yet this psyche once so mild
Turned against itself, reviled
For a state of mind beguiled
Of thoughtless existence
Set to incite the trite

Someway, somehow, please stop—
this Brain Noise
That purged our souls of peace and joys
Of life and love and laughs and poise
And changed our minds to jackals’ toys
Someway, somehow, please stop—
this Brain Noise!

Sought sound stimulation
A quest for liberation
Of dialogue deliberation
That the neurons would cease-fire
And end my inner war!
Tried to send my rumination
On perpetual vacation
Not without anticipation
Of this silence for a moment
But obsession all the more!

Someway, somehow, just turn down—
the Brain Noise
That purged our souls of peace and joys
Of life and love and laughs and poise
And changed our minds to jackals’ toys
Someway, somehow, just turn down—
this Brain Noise!

It’s not really what we think
But the volume of the thoughts
That drowns the sounds of Peace
And Hope and Joy reduced to naught
Hyperreflection just the product
Or the sum of all we’re taught?
Is detachment just a dream
Of all in all and all we ought
to be…?

© 2004 J. “Xakk” Marshall

At times we find our lamps burned out before we face the day
As our rose-colored glasses turn to wearing shades of gray
The mourning news to confuse our views to choose dismay
Changing channels as our world turns heads spinning away

We see no way to change the way it is or way we think we feel
Hearts weighed down with pounds of sorrow beat for an ideal
Our souls burn for a spark of hope or peace of something Real
From the ashes emerge a kindled fire with flame of mass appeal

Search the ends of the earth
For the end of the world
But the present’s a gift
Should we seek Life today
For what is the worth
Of the dogma we hurled
If by paradigm-shift
We let love slip away?

In the end it will end
And no men know when
Though between now and then-
Apocalypse Again

As we allay our minds to sleep we fill the void with conspiracy
Senses purged we merge to urge all sing our dirge to history
On senseless wings our visions fly to feign foes’ fatal destiny
A mistake to place escape in place of our stake in eternity?

Wise guys enthrall with know-it-all, the wise guise turns to glower
Profits rise and Prophets fall with milk and honey turning sour
Roads to good intents recall the slippery slope of wanting power
To calculate the day and hour but not the cost to build the tower

Search the ends of the earth
For the end of the world
But the present’s a gift
Should we seek Life today
For what is the worth
Of the dogma we hurled
If by paradigm-shift
We let love slip away?

In the end it will end
And no men know when
Though between now and then-
Apocalypse Again

Day far or nigh let our lights shine on through the End of Time
Pray to raise the shades of gray that veil windows to the Sublime
New views infuse the hues, renews; to let the Good News chime
Channels changing world engaging hearts primed for the Climb

© 2004 J. “Y3K Ready” Marshall  (Completed August 21, 2004 @ 7:00 AM)

Activate autopilot life
Push some buttons begin the day
Lunch is packed, the kids in a box
The State Sitter is on its way

Just heat and eat the coldness
Just add water for frozen tears
Mixed feelings, packaged memories
A dash of light for leftover years

Microwave Mama, do you know my plea?
From your room monitor, can you hear me?
And feel my pain, from closed circuit TV?
Saved by the bell; depress, release,
…and set me free!

We live for the future, wasting the day
We live for the future, wasting away

Microwaved Manna from Heaven
Just to get back what is dew
A mustard seed bathed in leaven
And bred for a starving few

Scrubbed the kids with your soapbox
With abrasive brush they shine on you
Foam out your mouth, a rapid rebuke
But what else could you do?

Microwave Mama, do you know my plea?
From your room monitor, can you hear me?
And feel my pain, from closed circuit TV?
Saved by the bell; depress, release,
…and set me free!

We live for the future, wasting the day
We live for the future, wasting away

Fly with disguise of freedom
Through the airs of gladness
In the midst of mainstream winds
The friendly guise of madness

Microwave Mama, do you know my plea?
From your room monitor, can you hear me?
And feel my pain, from closed circuit TV?
Saved by the bell; depress, release,
…and set me free!

We live for the future, wasting the day
We live for the future, wasting away

Remembering a day when you would see
The beauty of the sea a tree and waves of green
The fields of dreams exchanged for the reality
Of hopes of scenes from screen to shining screen…

© 2004 J. “Radiate Love Not Food” Marshall (August 9, 2004 @ 5:45 AM)