Sex
Love
Bold
Excellence
Everything Was Fine – Poetry Lyrics 11-13
By Alfred Brown
This is the poem where I finally got to use the sentence that had been rattling in my brain for a few years “Everything was fine until I got shot in the face.” I wrote it first sometime, probably around 2013, then I did some edits to it around 2014 or 2015. The intention with the edits was to make the poems into songs.
11 -8 shuns
I have heard the wailing and cries and lamentations
I feel sadness and grief and other strange sensations
I know i am powerless to change their situations
I can only admire their strength and hope and patience
It is mere chance that i was born to these stations
Whereby i experience love and joy and jubilations
I can achieve and succeed and make many creations
Were it only true for all cities and states and nations
12 -can only sing
If i could id make you so happy
But that be just what that be
If i could id make you love me
But this is all there is of me
If i could id buy you a new car
But as they are funds are sub par
If i could id take you so far
Past the sky and the farthest star
i cant do anything
Anything but sing
Sing of you and the love
The love i have plenty of
Please dont ever leave me
Tell me that you really need me
Leaving would so grieve me
Tell me you can hear and see me
Say you dont want to lose me
And let some other girl choose me
Cause my life would get so gloomy
It would then mean nothing to me
If you see me and we’re about to meet
Don’t cross to the other side of the street
Don’t let you head tell your feet
To walk on by so we won’t greet
Cause you know id try anything for you
There’s not much i wouldn’t try to do
But there is much i can’t do it’s true
All i can do is sing and always love you
13 -Livin ain't easy
Livin aint easy but somebody’s got to do it
Actually we all got to go through it
But one will get done faster than the other
Never becoming a father or a mother
Never making another walk the same mile
While the other will lead children single file
And it repeats and repeats with each generation
But who’s to say to the same destination
It’s easy for one to start
And ending isn’t the hard part
The middle is where you strive
What happens while you’re alive
Dyin ain’t hard but no one wants to do it
We have to go but we want to be truant
Or we want to hasten the final release
But we aren’t sure if then they’ll be peace
Someone said that the rub is the dreams
Or the perchance of it, whatever that means
per chance or per fate, is what i wonder
What is better, or is to question the blunder
It’s easy to come and go
From whence or to, though
Is not for us to know about
But merely maybe find out
Butterfly Universe (an excerpt)
By Anh Thi
“If you dare,” a girl’s voice softly echoed next to Crys’ bed.
“I want to play,” Crys whispered. “Give me a minute.” She rolled herself into her blanket, creating a pillow fortress around her body. If her parents came by to check on her, they couldn’t tell she wasn’t huddled within the pile.
Crys took three deep breaths before slipping her consciousness into a crack within space, just leaving enough of her mind behind, if her parents decided to detect her. If they found out she had left her body again, they would tie her mind to her body until her she reached her majority. The last time they caught her, she was grounded for six months.
She discovered that crack by accident. Usually those cracks were repaired instantly by the keeper’s guard, but they somehow missed that little sliver. And Crys made sure they didn’t pick up on it by weaving an illusion patch over it so she could continue to sneak out to play with Sha.
Sha had been slipping in and out of cracks since she remembered. The universe was too interesting not to explore, and danger was just a word that stopped cowards from doing what they wanted to do.
“You took long enough,” Sha said when Crys arrived six seconds after Sha dared her to play. “Why do I always have to find you?”
“I found you the first time,” Crys replied.
“But I was already searching for you,” Sha said. “Never mind. I found the most beautiful thing.” She mentally lassoed Crys, and off they skimmed along the light curves of space to stop before a brilliant galaxy in the shape of a butterfly. “Isn’t it cute?”
“Wow,” Cry sighed.
“It’s yours,” Sha said. “Sorry I got you grounded. Am I forgiven?”
“Only if you promise not to do that again,” Crys said. “If I want to leave, you will never try to stop me again.”
Sha pouted. “But you were leaving too soon.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Crys said. “If you can’t show me respect, then I don’t want to play with you anymore.”
“But I’m giving you this galaxy.”
“You can’t give what isn’t yours in the first place,” Crys stated. “Now promise.”
“Fine,” Sha relented without grace. “I promise not to force you to stay. Now are we good?”
“Good,” Crys agreed. With a sudden mischievous smile, she mentally lassoed Sha towards the edge of the butterfly swirl. “Now let’s play.”
The girls plunged into the galaxy’s tip with a whoop and a twirl. Gone was any consideration that didn’t involve satisfying their curiosity and pushing the boundaries of fun. An array of unimaginable colors surrounded them like a glowing cloud. As they got deeper, they could see planets and moons and suns moving in a celestial dance.
“Wait ‘til you see what I’ve been practicing,” Sha said. She slipped out of Crys’ mental hold and pointed a finger at a random section of the galaxy. With a counterclockwise flick of her finger, she drained away the color, leaving behind only a shadow of its former glory.
“What did you do?” Crys exclaimed. “Put it back.”
“No,” Sha said. “Isn’t that neat?”
“That’s not right. Put it back.”
“I said no.” Sha pointed an accusing look at Crys. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Me,” Crys said in surprise. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly! So why are you so concerned? This is not the end of the universe.”
“You just put a part of it off balance,” Crys explained. “We don’t know what might happen.”
“Might is not a good reason to do nothing.” Sha rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Stop sounding so old. You’re not your parents yet.”
“I am not old. And I would be lucky to be like my parents.”
“If you’re not old,” Sha challenged, “then live a little. It’s the duty of the young to push boundaries. We get to make mistakes.”
“But we don’t have to be stupid,” Crys pointed to the gray section sitting like a lump of coal in the midst of a rainbow swirl. “That makes no sense.”
“That is trying something new. Testing our power. I thought you would appreciate that.”
“Experimenting with our powers is fine,” Crys said, “but we have to be careful not to damage the universe if we’re to be its guardians.”
Sha laughed. “Let the ones with less potential guard. We shall be rulers, not guardians. And rulers get to make the rules.”
“Rulers should also know when to obey the rules,” Crys said. “You aim too high.”
“So should you,” Sha said. “We are better than guardians. Why do you think I was looking for someone that matched my potential? To be without an equal is so boring.”
“You’re not a god,” Crys commented. “You shouldn’t be proud of what you’re not yet.”
“I have no doubt one day I’ll rule the Shade family and all who owe allegiance to us. When you rule the Crystals, we can make a peace treaty so we don’t have to sneak around, hiding our friendship.”
“When did you care what others think?”
“When they can stop me,” Sha shrugged. “It’s better to make the rules than to follow them. Don’t you want to be unique in the universe, the only one who can take your family name as your own?”
“It’s just a name.”
“Names have power. I want to be the Shadow. Don’t you want to be the Crysalis?”
Crys frowned in thought. “I don’t know. That sounds like a lot of work to be the anything. I just want to be plain Crys.”
“Then enjoy your plainness while you can,” Sha laughed. “I bet you won’t have much choice when your powers outstrip everyone else except me.”
Behind her back, Crys gathered space dust to form a ball that she hurled at Sha. Yelping in surprise, Sha leapt to the side as the dustball exploded into a sparkle of light when it hit her shoulder. With a glint in her eye, Sha spun around and shot beams of light from her fingertips she channeled from the nearest sun. It slammed Crys backwards into a passing comet, shattering it into fragments.
Crys nodded in appreciation at Sha’s quick comeback. With a grin, she mentally scooped up some comet fragments, forged them into the shape of a dagger, and threw it at Sha who just managed to create a light shield to protect herself. The comet dagger exploded, and Sha used her shield to push the hot pieces towards Crys.
Duckng behind a planet, Crys directed the remaining pieces of the comet to enter the planet’s atmosphere where they promptly burned up. While Sha was distracted by the fireworks show, Crys quickly fashioned a net out of dust molecules and threw it over Sha.
But dust was no match for Sha’s quick thinking. She pulled a moon from its orbit. The force of the gravitational shift caused the dust net to disintegrate as the dust streamed after the rogue moon. While Crys was busy putting the moon back into its place, Sha slipped behind her and grabbed her hair.
“Gotcha,” Sha said with triumph.
“That’s what you think.” Crys flipped backwards, tearing free of Sha’s grip. Then they engaged in hand to hand combat. Kicking and punching, the two friends circled each other looking for an opening advantage. “Y ou’ve been practicing.”
Sha laughed. “So have you.”
“I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”
“Then be second best.”
“Only if you want me to let you win.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
Everything Was Fine – Poetry Lyrics 8-10
By Alfred Brown
This is the poem where I finally got to use the sentence that had been rattling in my brain for a few years “Everything was fine until I got shot in the face.” I wrote it first sometime, probably around 2013, then I did some edits to it around 2014 or 2015. The intention with the edits was to make the poems into songs.
8 -don't try to express
Don’t try to express
Yourself online unless
You don’t want credit
Cause if you then get it
Or even if you don’t
Chances are you won’t
It’ll come back to haunt
In ways you don’t want
It’s not enough to get
A nom de internet
For anonymity these days
Can be lost in so many ways
For some idiot will reveal
What you can well conceal
Unless you never tell a soul
Then what’s the point at all
I was so careful
But i guess not careful enough
To hide my identity
But nowadays it can be tough
Once it’s online
You can’t make it go away
You can try all you want
But it is pretty much there to stay
Even if you could
Make it somehow disappear
Just take another look
Pretty soon it’s right back there
You gotta be careful
With more than what you put online
You gotta think of what others
Might accidentally do sometime
So the solution is clear
Don’t ever express anything in anyway
Because no matter what
It’ll come back to you someday
9 -never too sure
You’re never too sure
How it’s gonna work out
Will it cause a stir
Will it make em shout
Did you do it right
Or was it all wrong
Will it cause a fight
That’ll go on too long
Never too sure
Can’t say exact
Poison or cure
Fiction or fact
Right way or wrong
This way or that
Too short or long
Do it then or stat
I can’t say if it’s okay
Don’t know if it’s a go
Will it pay, will it play
Or will it show it’s a no
I try but i wonder
Is it worth the effort
Did i make a blunder
Did i cause them hurt
I just want to succeed
At something I’ve tried
Be someone to lead
Before I have died
But if i should fail
I hope they will say
He never blazed a trail
But he tried a good way
10 -i had plenty of time
I had plenty of time
When i was young
To live as i please
But now i find
The time is gone
It comes then it leaves
Now i only
Try to live
As much as i can
Now i’m hoping
That it’s this
That means I’m a man
12. Would you encourage a young person to become a writer?
presents “Two Voices” – a discussion about writing
by 2 writers, Alfred Brown and Anh Thi
(female) ANH |
(male) ALFRED |
|
I would never encourage anyone to be a writer. That’s a choice that is self-made. Encouraging someone to do something that doesn’t automatically draw them is a waste of effort, and can steer a young person in the wrong direction. What I would do is encourage people to express themselves, whether by writing or any other method that calls to them. |
Writing in the sense of using the written word to communicate ideas is always a good skill to have, and to be proficient, one must practice. I’m so egalitarian that I’d even consider texting some misspelled treacle to one’s “bf” like “I luv u 4vr u mak me cri evrityme” to be good practice.
But I feel better practice if it’s proper spelling and grammar. What is proper, or correct, is hard to say. I never use emoticons when I text, not even a smiley face, but that’s just my style, and I would never say it is one by which all must abide. |
| Any endeavor is going to take sacrifice and work. If it’s a creative endeavor, there is the element of subjectivity which leads to self-doubt.
Why? Because you can never objectively have someone measure how good or bad your efforts are. It’s subjective. It’s an opinion, not tied to any logic. Doubting yourself is a very easy thing to do. Second guessing yourself is human nature, and it can be destructive if you don’t love what you’re doing. If there’s no redeeming aspect to the work and sacrifice, as in you want to do it, writing will be hell. |
Would I encourage creative writing? Depends on what you want from it, or rather what you are willing to accept may come from it.
Why? Because you might want it to do something amazing, but you may need to eventually accept a much tamer definition of amazing than perhaps you originally wanted. I agree that writing will be hell if you don’t find something redeeming in it. For me, with creative writing, I think whatever else I might be doing would probably be worse, as my writing is often in response to stress. Instead of writing, I might go online and look at memes of misspelled texts to bfs, and then afterwards have nothing to show for it. |
| So for those who choose to write, or just plain can’t help themselves, I would encourage you to learn your craft. That’s the boring part of doing anything – learning how to do it.
Grammar, spelling, sentence structure, parsing out the meaning of a word or phrase, understanding the rhythm and structure of a story, editing, re-writing, overcoming mental blocks, research, and just keep chugging along. Writing is practice, and the practice of writing takes time. And it’s a lonely thing to do. Writers, even in teams, write alone. Your voice is not a shared voice, but something that develops as you experience life in your own unique way, and finding that voice means only you can express your singular style. And that’s a great thing to finally being able to find yourself!
|
I accept every time I creatively write that, yet again, my words may be seen by no one. But there’s always a chance. And there is very little value with time spent alone on the internet, or TV, or any other “consuming” activity with no end product (time spent socially at least has an end product of bonding).
But I don’t think that learning how to write needs to be boring. Not if you approach it creatively. There were some researchers at Stanford who found much more success in teaching math by encouraging creative thinking and creative approaches to problem solving, instead of rote methods. So I feel it should be with most learning. Even learning something inherently creative, like creative writing. There’s always multiple ways to come out with something, even in structure or being “grammatically correct”. Look at each time as a challenge that you get to choose how to tackle, and even writing “properly” or “structured” can be fun. And finding ways to engage yourself in creative problem solving is yet another useful skill. So, yes, I encourage creative writing. The only thing I don’t want to encourage is a sense that you must be the best, the most accomplished, the next J.K. Rowlings, or Tom Clancy, or whomever actually makes money writing. For value comes in lots of unexpected ways. And that feeling you must be exceptional, followed by a feeling of being a failure because you are “not,” is very much not exceptional. And very much unfortunate. |
Everything Was Fine – Poetry Lyrics 6-7
By Alfred Brown
This is the poem where I finally got to use the sentence that had been rattling in my brain for a few years “Everything was fine until I got shot in the face.” I wrote it first sometime, probably around 2013, then I did some edits to it around 2014 or 2015. The intention with the edits was to make the poems into songs.
6 -everybody get on the party line
When they want you to fail they resist
They sign pledges and get on solidarity lists
They don’t care who’s really to blame
As long as the hate eventually rests onto your name
At first you work with them or try to at least
But your promises can’t stop the nature of the beast
Because when they succeed to stymie progress
There’s no more majority and your influence is less
Everybody get on the party line
Don’t matter who you are, just how you’re aligned
How they want you to, you better vote or sign
Just do as you’re told, and you’ll do fine
Now i know we’re victims of the same mentality
You gotta do it too, to survive in this land of duality
Still I don’t think we fight just for the sake of it
In fact it seems we’re the only ones to give in a bit
Some are idealistic and willing to keep getting burned
Would rather do something so the wheel will still turn
But when the others rather demonize than concede
I’d keep my sights on getting another majority lead
7 -i know i can't sing
I know i can’t sing
I know i aint good
I know i should learn
I know i sure should
But i don’t want to be induced
To the styles that are used
By those who have choosed
To lead today’s youth
I should take a lesson
Instead of just guessin
And doing it by ear
Hoping i can hear
Each nuance and inflection
Because if i want perfection
It takes more than practice
cause i don’t think i lack this
I need someone to instruct
Without it I’m just fucked
If they say give me an e
Well i can’t find the key
But hearing a song i know
I know where i should go
But unless i can hear it
I get nowhere near it
I’m afraid if I’m taught
Practice will go to naught
I’ll start sounding modern
And go about a wrong turn
Don’t want to be a fool
Who goes to that school
Unless i can also avoid
Falling into that void
But it’s a silly concern
I can stay true and still learn
I just need someone smart
a like minded old fart
Who agrees that these kids
Are kettles that need lids
Sure they sing the note
But so sterile and so rote