Rapidfire Update

September 25th, 2008

Hey guys, I just wanted to blast off a quick post because I’ve been busy lately. I’m still writing a ton, but at the moment it’s for songs as opposed to poetry. Since there’s not any big demand for the poems and I’m still waiting on a couple that’ve sold (that person’s super busy, too), I’m focusing on my music. I’ll see if I can scrounge some things to post once I’m sure they’re not going to be made into songs. I’ve got dozens of pages to work with so I’m sure a few will end up here.

 

But I’m alive and kicking! Thanks for contacting me to ask about this project. Yes, it’s still something I’m doing and if you ever want any of the poems on here or for me to write one for you, feel free to get ahold of you and I’ll respond ASAP.

I’ll also post up some tunes once we’ve got them squared away, links to videos, etc. Thanks!

Hey Mr. Famous

August 20th, 2008

Hey Mr. Famous

by Wolfgang Nibori

 

i’d like to crack your crystal skull
i’d like to grind you up to find-
can’t you show me how it goes or must i always tow this line
you pretend you can’t remember, pretend it took a flash
still i’m reaching ’round for answers
still i’m drowning in the bath and it’s like
how much crazier am i gonna hafta be? how much further
to run from who i used to be
which is not to say that i’m somehow someone else
it’s just the ready-made admission we all create ourselves
at school i skipped the parties i never got invited in
then i’d party just to skip school let it sail into the wind
here i am, once again and i’m finding it to be
a fucked up kind of maze, an obscure lopsided game
so it boils down to fuck it
guess i’ll roll my dice anyway

 

This poem for sale: 16 lines for $16.00

maybe impossible (in spite of trust)

August 20th, 2008

maybe impossible (in spite of trust)

by Wolfgang Nibori

 

you gotta feel it, revulsion at drinking a bottle of urine
memory of a needle’s sting, you gotta feel it
slide inside of you, to leave some, to take it away today
you gotta see it there, lying on the side of the highway
because no one knows your pain, no one can understand, we can’t relate to the way you hate
a spider scrambling up along your body, you gotta feel it
sick, tired, worn and shaking beneath the tent top
i can hold your hand yet i am never you
and so i never know, i gotta feel it
the last shot before you pass the fuck out
you gotta feel that
if you.. if you…
if you feel me?

 

This poem for sale: 13 lines = $13.00

love’s filing cabinet

August 20th, 2008

love’s filing cabinet

by Wolfgang Nibori

 

ah, those dust-covered fingertips i refuse to lick
but i found your page, that whole sheaf
buried. in the back of the archives
oh the pen was broken and the ink came clotted
we still wrote it all down, didn’t we?
yes, you and me, we made a record. we sealed us a little fate
even the devil couldn’t write up a contract the way we do
even the lost, greedy souls who broke our world
would never sign away their lives this way
you and i, recorded, filed and stuffed into the back of the archive
still those dust-covered fingertips counting
every day we tick off another notch on the survival post
tear-stained, yellowed, maybe faded by the dark
i’d draft and sign it yet again
cause hey, we made it this far

 

This poem for sale: $15 for 15 lines

waking down from dreaming

August 14th, 2008

waking down from dreaming

by Wolfgang Nibori

 

your electric drill saw whining
spearmint tinted breath that always flows
bent the hands of time
into the shape of your cheap brass heart
think backwards just a minute
maybe you know how we got this lost?
try to hop back through the past while looking forward
i heard raccoons will chew their leg off in the trap
that’s a pinch of what i’m going through
yet even when it’s my desire i cannot blame you
some people found me screaming
i thought only i could hear
now i’m on this stump and wondering
are we in case of emergency, yeah?
is this the time to break the glass?
my hair hurts from the pulling as i try to twist
a little sense into my throbbing head
yet i got to keep on pushing
cause no matter what i do, like anyone
i’ll leave my mistakes behind when i’m dead

 

This poem for sale: $20 for 20 lines

roar

August 14th, 2008

roar

by Wolfgang Nibori

 

dive, dive, dive, slice water inslide
thrushing whisper through channels of the ears
penetrating gravity to sink softly under fear
i push away the invisible wall once again
if only to transform liquid into oxygen
so i may breathe. below the sea.
i wish not my eyes a’burn. all sound now inside me.
i’m pawing for something, gazing for meaning
the sea of fetishes overwhelms me
you. you. you. the doll-rubber. you.
power to the smuggler. stolen. fetish.
forced imagery. manipulated thoughts.
always eating pictures. choking on the thoughts
so i can breathe. stolen. under this sea.
i told you to slice. did you do it?
well did you or not? fetish. disassembled plot.
pulsing blink of fish glow. ever swimming neon arrow.
flick the tail. disappear. stolen. buried. far from here.
oh, down, down, down. stolen fetish disassembled
down, down, down betwix the glowing gape of ichthine jaws
bite and tear. bite and tear. stolen fetish angel.
all is eating. endless digestion. no sense focus on the product in a world of coprophiliacs.
your sex ratio equation. x y algebraic madness.
equate all to fetishes like your parents micromanaged.
this is why all must die. this why all falls down.
this is the senseless end of heirarchal misauthority.
back to the surface, i leave you for the sea.
you know a strange man promised that you’d never follow me.

 

This poem for sale: $28.00 for 28 lines

take a number and get in the punch line

August 1st, 2008

take a number and get in the punch line

by Wolfgang Nibori

 

i stand naked, bent and backlit by powder white light
savage in the lost found yet wildly misinterpreted
armored in scars from a thousand battles lost or won
against nature, against man, against Macy’s Day Parade of Gods
draw back now the colors to bring the rainbow taut
let the eagles drop screaming on you depraved snakes
snakes and rabbits pretending to be sentient
simply to fit in with the the livestock
i’ll piss you out of your burrows, stenched and drowning
i demand a refund for the lost causes you’ve sold me
laugh like a looning hookah sultan, let your fat bounce
hostile glances serve to reinforce your insecurities
bankvaulted dynamite belligerance drawing interest daily
the white light shows my red-rimmed eyes of blood undried
i stand bent without shame as i am for you’ve called me
twisted time and repitition
click your buttons but i’ll channel nothing except my own soul
consult your ghost strung chemical power lines
i don’t your source or your mockery of strength
i am every joker out there re-painting his sad clown face
in the frantic, maniacal hues of war

 

This poem for sale: $21.00 for 21 lines

Seasoned

August 1st, 2008

Seasoned

by Wolfgang Nibori

 

the desert is a death gaze rattlesnake
won’t look away and it will not blink
it’s got a black tongue, flip you off two ways
the desert is a death gaze rattlesnake
makes a sound so low you’ll never forget
a song so long that the tune goes flat
there’s a hive of people, swarm like bees
cloud the sky with rising unchained dreams
got a blue metal sting, two miles wide
the desert is a death gaze rattlesnake
the babies eat spiders before they are born
white as vampires who never slide tired
a gun on the hip with a ghost in the heart
sucks all fires dry before they can start
trouble crawls off, leaves a blood powder trail
it knows not mercy and it knows not pain
the desert is a death gaze rattlesnake
it doesn’t give a shit what you think

 

This poem for sale: 18 lines = $18.00

me or the cat?

July 27th, 2008

me or the cat?

by Wolfgang Nibori

 

listen to the baby cry under dark blue sky
spiked through with star light
dash of streetlamp glow thrown across the grass
lanky, sleeking tomcat; you breathe wrong he is gone
moments as a pile of dust, sneeze and all is blown
high thrown as a kite string slash, beg mercy of the wind
off they roll as tumbleweeds, in motion yet in death
only serve to plant the seeds, what they used to be
higher and higher beyond glass placed over another’s world
inside it’s all the tumbling dice machines fail to predict
shaking hands, hand me down, pitch another bet
shaking hands, hold me down, best if we forget
forget and cut your eyes lest you start to empathize
let realization come condense
there but for the grace of choice go I
still not any hero for standing right across the line

 

This poem for sale - 16 lines = $16.00

Rise of Fascism on the Net

July 19th, 2008

I want to decry what I feel to be a wave of anti-industrious attitude that’s become increasingly more prevalent on the web. All these people who block ANY comment that has anything even slightly to do with self-promotion, the people who get angry when anyone tries to start something new and doesn’t already have a vast corporate marketing budget to work with. I understand you’ve seen plenty of these ideas fail and that it taxed your emotions, but spreading the bitterness, the cynicism - that’s not going to help any one.

At the same time these people are griping about "affiliate marketing" or porn site spam or Viagra pill spam or whatever the latest craze is, out of the other corner of their mouth they’re complaining about how unfair society is and how it offers limited opportunities. So you want more jobs, better lives, but fuck other people if they try to do that also? See, a good chunk of the world lives very close to the bottom of the food chain. Plenty of people go broke, lose their homes, have an unexpected baby coming, etc. Think about those possibilities. While I understand massive floods of automated spam or endless cheesy comments get old, it aggravates me to see people with these popular blogs suddenly become irritated about being "used" by other people seeking to promote their own online endeavors. Talk about hypocritical! I’m not even willing to consider that anyone who started blogging or any other kind of online phenomenon/celebrity blog/website became popular without SOME form of advertising. No one has that many friends, sorry. You either start with a budget and some pre-existing fame/notoriety or you go beat on doors and find an audience and piss a few people off in the process.

Here’s my bottom line: I hate when people get to the top and then try to kick the ladders they
climbed up on back down so no one can follow them up. Few things piss me off to that level and I suppose because it shows a basic lack of empathy, deep-seated personal insecurity and a grand dose of narcissistic arrogance. I write this post today so that I will have a reminder to myself when I reach the level of success that I’ve been aiming for. I want to be a person who not only gives back, but staunchly defends the rights of other people to try and compete with me. By trying to block others I’d be stunting my own growth, limiting my own enrichment.

This applies offline, too. All those telemarketers? People trying to make a living. The guy at the
drive through window who’s so damned slow with your order? Yeah, he’s got rent to pay, too.
The lady at Wal-Mart who argues with you over the store’s return policy? She’ll be a grandmother next month and may not be able to retire until she’s well past age 75 due to her limited savings. What I’m trying to convey is that everyone’s got struggles and everyone deserves some respect up front (until they prove otherwise). It’s the very basis of our society to learn to not only cope with each other but to co-exist in a fashion that ADVANCES each of us.

All the marketing that surrounds us all day long, that’s someone trying to put food on the table. Does it primarily benefit some small percentage of people at the top? Probably. But those people spend money, too. My objective is to stay as open-minded and open-hearted as I possibly can and try to understand those I encounter before I start boxing them in with judgments.

I do not want to see the internet drift towards this fascistic state of ‘if you don’t agree with US then go away’ to the point that many forums, blogs, chatrooms and online communities take things. Over and over again, since I first got online in 1993 or so, I’ve seen communities rise up, I’ve joined them and then the ‘powers that be’ come in and squash the ‘rebel element’. The channel ops get ban-happy, the profiles stop allowing comments, the blogs start ‘needing to approve’ comments. It’s always blamed on some ‘exploiter’, but every single time the rules end up excluding a lot more people than they were said to have been designed to exclude.

It’s as if the person who got the power gradually gets more tipsy until they’re drunk and picking fights. It’s almost as if the mere fact that people have freedom begins to get under the skin of some personality type and eventually those people get things shut down all while they point the fingers at some group they dislike. I mean the American Midwest used to be filled with buffalo (bison), too.

Maybe some of you remember how you used to be able to post ads on newsgroups way back when. The first website I ever set up, back in 1996 or so, I advertised a call for writers and
artists in the newsgroups. I got tons of excited replies and so much traffic to the page that my hitcounter went down and my free hosting account got closed (I was in my teens without a budget back then). I tried that same approach in 2001 and got my e-mail box absolutely inundated with hate mail. Same thing happened with forums. Anyone remember how Yahoo chat used to let you make your own chatrooms? Those are gone now, I believe.

Year after year places crop up and then they die off. I’m sure there are plenty of bastions of
unbridled craziness left on the web today, but I don’t know of many. Napster got strangled, YouTube gets censor-happy and god forbid you show the wrong pictures on MySpace or kiss your account goodbye. We won’t even get into trying to place ANY kind of ad that won’t get flagged on craigslist (even in the ADS sections, mind you).

That’ll end my little rant on the importance of allowing opportunity for EVERYONE (even if we
hate them) online in order to preserve our own freedom, integrity and honesty. Let the jerks
reveal themselves and we’ll simply ignore them instead of punishing anyone who looks like they
might possibly be a jerk.