whatareyouthinking

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

Tripp tried to call his friend Bob.  After dialing what he thought was Bob’s number, the respondent informed Tripp that he had indeed dialed the wrong telephone number to reach Bob.  So Tripp hung up the phone, pressed redial, and tried calling Bob once again.

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)

Streams of consciousness overflow
From mourning due our sorrows grow
Our hearts turn numb without a cause
And spirits dumb with lives on pause
As countdowns of politicking clocks
Locks the box that stocks the flocks

But the second hand within our grasp
The time has come to kill the asp
Lose the chains and loose the clasp
Inhale new life from lifeless gasp

We all want a Second Wind
Breath of fresh air
New spirit within
We all need a Second Wind
Air of freedom
Free from sin

From sinking sand we reach for sky
Needles of vengeance bleed mercy dry
Our hearts will pump the blood it draws
As we seek to blot our brother’s flaws
In vain our quest turns toward ourselves
Into our faults our psyche delves

But the second hand within our grasp
The time has come to kill the asp
Lose the chains and loose the clasp
Inhale new life from lifeless gasp

We all want a Second Wind
Breath of fresh air
New spirit within
We all need a Second Wind
Air of freedom
Free from sin

When our eye is dark from a worldview
That sees no future just judgment due
And the light within the rain burns out
Through warning tears pouring doubt
Thy kingdom calls for all to hear it
When it reigns its poor are rich in spirit

But the second hand within our grasp
The time has come to kill the asp
Lose the chains and loose the clasp
Inhale new life from lifeless gasp

We all want a Second Wind
Breath of fresh air
New spirit within
We all need a Second Wind
Airing freedom
Free from sin

© 2004 J. “Xakk” Marshall (August 6, 2004 @ 5:15 PM)

Break some minds to pieces
Affix to man-made machinery
Hot-wire desire and pride
Fuel with neurochemistry

Take some pieces of minds
Attach to anything new
A notion, a dogma, opinion
Bond with emotional glue

These are the robots we will build
To suit our will to never show
Time and time again, we won’t grow
Up to see beyond our fleeting thrill
To death to fight what we don’t know
A lot of the robots we’ll bestow

So who was fighting who—
Was it even me, or even you?
Or robot-to-robot in each other’s face—
The robots we sent to show in our place?
Our robots were there, still keeping score
Our robots were there, still making war

Pick from the heaps of hype
That with appearance of cause
Ignite with the spark of adrenaline
The unfriendly fire of flaws

Circuit boards of education
Screwed to lust for power to rule
Replace servanthood of a leader
With the arrogance of a fool

These are the robots we will build
To suit our will to never show
Time and time again, we won’t grow
Up to see beyond our fleeting thrill
To death to fight what we don’t know
A lot of the robots we’ll bestow

So who was fighting who—
Was it even me, or even you?
Or robot-to-robot in each other’s face—
The robots we sent to show in our place?
Our robots were there, still keeping score
Our robots were there, still making war

When we don’t know what it is
That makes us what we are
We build robots in our places
And fight our battles from afar
© 2004 J. “Xakk” Marshall (July 9, 2004 @ 5:15 AM)

Tampa, FL—A recent study fuels the ongoing debate for the possible connection between faith and nutrition. Miles Long, one of the three chief researchers of this seven-year study stated, “Scientists have been aware of the link between proper functioning of the frontal lobe regions of the brain and religiousness for decades. This study reveals that chronic systemic niacin shortages are associated with improper functioning of these crucial areas of the brain.”

Will Sherbet, nutritionist and pastor of a local non-denominational church concludes, “This links the simultaneous decline of religious values in America and the vast insurgence of fast food restaurants in this country since the 50’s and 60’s.” But Mr. Sherbet’s statement was challenged by the fact that niacin, a “B” vitamin, is found liberally in foods such as beef and chicken, the staple of many fast-food restaurant chains. Some of his parishoners commented that this specific finding could help explain the large percentage of unbelievers amongst vegetarians, whose diets would be less likely to contain adequate levels of this essential nutrient.

Jim Skipper, Senior Pastor and founder of Parable of Trust Ministries rejects the notion that biology plays any role in religion. “People that aren’t living a life that is pleasing to God are naturally going to neglect the temples that God has given them and not fill them with the proper food—not the other way around.” The Christian Bible alludes to the bodies of believers as temples in which God’s Holy Spirit dwells.

Despite criticism, Long and his team of researchers plan to publish a book on their findings entitled Growing Closer To God Through Nutrition. One biologist on the team, Lenny Dutch, who is also an Evangelical Christian, commented, “We are still in the business of winning souls, but this may sometimes call for winning their bodies and minds first.” Dutch plans to work with his pastor on producing and placing private-labeled bottles of niacin in their book store as part of their outreach ministry. Dutch concludes, “Perhaps after two or three capsules, people will be more receptive to the Gospel.” 

A woman went to a grocery store and purchased everything on her shopping list for that week.  On her way home, she spotted a flyer where she noticed some of the items that she purchased were on sale at another store.  Many products at the other store were also her preferred brands.  So she pulled over to the nearest dumpster, threw away all of the groceries she had just bought, and did all of her shopping at the other store. 

A group of dogs that occupied a farm often discussed just how different things were back in the old dog years.  Some of them barked out a dismal view of the farm, claiming a general decline of their honorable canine heritage.  In fact, the Bulldogs and Pointers, along with several others reminisced about how wonderful life on the farm once was; how all dogs shared their toys and treats, mated for life, and obeyed their master.  It was the carefree attitudes they perceived of this generation’s pups that led to their bones of contention.  The Pointers blamed the young for the thunderstorms that were coming upon the farm and the influx of predators.  They even blamed them for the Terriers’ activity.

Now the Terriers fervently disagreed and scratched the notion that dog life was running down hill.  In fact, they contested that overall dog life had improved.  They cried out for the mixed breeds, and how they were finally getting adopted into loving homes the same as the purebreds; how dogs and cats were now able to live on the same farm without trying to harm each other.  They dug up things that their opponents thought to be buried in the past, filling their good old days with bad dogs and all sorts of sons of bitches.

Still other dogs thought these conversations to be quite silly.  They saw many of these correlations to be far fetched—involving factors reaching beyond their level of understanding and realm of control.  In every generation, they sniffed various ideals that had grown worse as others were made better.  It seemed as though the Bulldogs, Pointers, Terriers and their followers only said what their packs’ itching ears wanted to hear.  But these dogs sensed their master was in complete control of the dog farm; attempting to figure it all out themselves would be like chasing their tails.

You see a small world in your mind’s eye and so do I
High with lofty ideals the way things ought to be and why
But each is blind to what the other’s world holds inside
Leaving our worlds merely contemplated—never tried

We keep blaming one another
For not going with our flow
But as long as we keep blaming
Our small worlds will never grow

Yet it’s a small mind after all
That’s so big to think its above us all
It’s a small mind that loves to sprawl
And to talk the walk but lives to crawl

We can’t hear what’s in our room
With our ear against the wall
We won’t see our own home’s doom
While we’re watching another one’s fall

There’s a small world only you conceive still I believe
We could be elsewhere if some of us were apt to leave
Residential comfort zones where life is easy though so bleak
And to the source present our gift of words—and speak!

We keep thinking to ourselves
What we’re thinking they should know
But as long as we keep thinking
Our small minds will never grow

Yet it’s a small mind after all
That’s so big to think its above us all
It’s a small mind that loves to sprawl
And to talk the walk but lives to crawl

We can’t hear what’s in our room
With our ear against the wall
We won’t see our own home’s doom
While we’re watching another one’s fall
© 2004 J. “Xakk” Marshall (April 17, 2004, at 3:45 PM)