B is For "Where the Food Goes"

happy frakkin new year. enjoy a selection from a new project coming soon. pax

Where does all my food go?

With all I eat I should be fatter

Quite

But I have noticed

How my rage is full

And alive…

And full

I however grow hungry by the hour

And thirsty by the day

This

Has got to stop

I am empty inside and gas pained

Rage though gives me focus

Truths easier to ingest

Information easier to process

And it has given clarity to my eyes

Yet I am hungry

Or more pointedly, thirsty

Midnight snacks feed a need

But satisfies no one

January 2, 2011

Where the food goes

Three Text Maximum

Comments

W.A.T. PRESENTS: Till The Tank Runs Dry

A few shots on the road. Stock video. Free library music. And a narration by Ayodhya Ouditt. Here's a short piece of something, "Till The Tank Runs Dry" [because with no budget comes great responsibility]. Take it in. Be Well. #wearetracy #wearetracyfilms

B is for SideBar

i was going to talk about morality today. as in "whose morality do you subscribe to?" it was going to be deep if i say so myself. however, instead i will speak about requisitioning wombs . yes that's right... wombs . i was having a conversation with a girl who [i admit] i still go gaga over [cue the "paparazzi" audio clip]. we were talking about how stupid humanity had become and whether there was a point to saving them. "saving" in the sense of helping-them-expand-their-mental-space-just-a-smidgen-more kind of saving. she believed this exercise was futile and proclaimed that instead of trying to save this "dead-out" (my term not hers) generation, she was going to have kids. a means of passing on valuable information about culture and forward thinking and such. i laughed of course but she had a real point. i too have felt that this current landscape is all... dead-out, but never really saw procreation as a means of rebooting the system if...

B is for Adam & Eventful

We walked away from humanity that day In hopes of something grander So I Called her god And she Said the same And often she called aloud my name. Vain imaginings ran the course And the leaves of the food that took us higher Now clothed us in remorse. “Poor Adam” “Poor Eve” Poor knowledge sent away till our children woke up. As us. And gods were born to them. Vain imaginings… December 17, 2010 Adam & Eventful Three Text Maximum © tracy j h

B is for Stealing

Search This Blog