Aerodynamic - Daft Punk

This is a funky jam. Get your butter knife and toast.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14xgbeHsJXI

i am in love with this woman...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZfp7Txyk_Y&feature=related

her sophomore album "the sea" will be released in early february of 2010, what an excellent birthday gift for me!

First Snow

December 19th, 2009



This house is a new mind; a fresh mine
for memories. The snow outside fades footsteps
of early day. The children played
before the blizzard powdered Mama Earth’s face.

“So what we ‘gon do?” Badu sings to me.
We ‘gon remain a blank sheet. Innocence
is coming back to me. These new beginnings
envelop me, a signed and sealed delivery.

Snow scatters in every direction. The flakes
are too fast to identify. Clouds come steady as a train.
Full Steam! Frenzy. The tree nods at me heavy,
Storm on its shoulders.

It holds
everything:
sun, leaves,
snow, me.

Flakes visit my window like children in a zoo.
I am tamed by lies, laws, sayings and school.
I want to feel, express and create. To grow and be,
just how Lowdown Loretta Brown told me.

Now I am so happy.
Everything is new to me:
this snow, this home, my family, these feelings.
I am a bird jumping out of its tree to take wing.

Ah!
This is how it feels to love God.
Free, with each attachment
as heavy as a feather.


Robert Gibson Jr.

Shy Days Come Away

*I was browsing through the R&B/Soul section in Walmart, and the album covers of two CDs struck me: Sade's Love Deluxe and Norah Jones' Come Away With Me. Something in me wanted to buy both of them, but only one was in my budget. I chose Norah only because the album was printed on recycled materials and because it was cheaper than Sade's. But to honor both artists, I wrote down the tracklistings of both on the inside of a envelop I found at the Photo Center. The next day, I looked at what I had and composed it into a neat little poem. I reccomend you to listen to both CDs because these musicians have amazing voices that could make anyone's heart melt.

" Shy Days Come Away"


This love


deluxe is nothing ordinary:

I feel no pain because I couldn’t love you more.

Like a tattoo, I wear your kiss of life permanent on my lips.

I cherish the day your pearls of thought penetrated my bulletproof soul.

Like a mermaid, I don’t know why I drowned under seas of sorrow

for seven years straight. You got my cold cold heart feelin’ the same way.

I appreciate you, so come away with me. Let’s lay in cerulean meadows,

shoot the moon and keep missing. Turn me on, light up this lonestar.

I’ve got to see you again wearing your skin. You are this painter’s song.

We are only one flight down from heaven. Let’s fly, my nightingale;

the long day is over. The nearness of you

frees me.


Robert Gibson Jr.

"Forecast: Unseasonably cold."

You, you are the gargoyle engraved
six feet into the Cathedral's skin;
fixed, overlooking the scenery of Monroe park.
Fools are rushin' rushin' around;
the weather weathers them down,
you sit silent and watch.

Their umbrellas dance to the sound of raindrops dying.

A midday sun escapes from its cloudy cage
and every shadow holds its breath.
Petals bow and a stalks sway;
the wind knows no death.

Ancient trees wrestle the sky
as hardened humans heave heavy souls;
too enslaved to chisel down their lives
they fight over fool's gold.

Their umbrellas die to the sight of raindrops hiding.
Still, you are not Sunnyside up:

If only they would rotate their free wills well
and dispatch into life, leading.
If only you could escape that stifling shell
and hatch into a heavenly being.

But indulgence is a discontinued sale; they never will, you never will.

You, the monstrous yet marvelous, grudgingly gaze
as their eyes, now swallowed by sunshades,
skim over the beauty of this scripted day,
ignore the position of each actor onstage
and forget that life is but a play inside the Playwright's Play.

Even so, you know the sparrow
will sing its redemption song
as bones descend at dusk.
Spirits will ascend at dawn
as humans keep building up.

Their buildings may fall
as the earth absorbs it all.
Yet your building will fall
as the earth absorbs it all.

Trees

We are trees weathered by the seasons of life;
Rooted in earth, always reaching for sunlight.

Our relationships bud, flourish and fall,
but memories are evergreen decoration.

Heartwood dreams leave us gorgeously scarred;
living for Life is the richest sensation.

We are trees polished by the seasons of life;
rooted in each other, always reaching for starlight.

-R.Gibson

Heavenly Attractions

(A dream I had on September 20th)


I was standing in my grandmother’s backyard when I saw another moon eclipsing our moon. It happened second by second. I told Matt and Tristan to look. But they couldn’t see it. I tried to take a picture through my camera but it was unreliable. The eclipse was over; the second moon slipped into a hidden pocket in the sky. I pondered on this bizarreness.

I wanted to go to the root of this nonsense. Tristan, with his know every human being on Earth self, referred me to a lady that could take me to outer space. Matt, with his overly curious and adventurous self, tagged along. I remember the process being quick; we hopped in the ship and within 5 minutes we were up there.

She dropped us off into a beautiful sight. We were above everything. Earth was the same as my elementary school depictions: a carefully drawn sphere circled by a necklace of dotted lines looped through the moon. Right there, I saw the other moon I saw from earth. What was it doing in our orbit? I reached to take it down. I tried to touch it but it pushed me into a spiraling frenzy and spun away into the abyss.

Helpless and silly, I twirled into the orbital wires connecting the earth and moon. I messed everything up but wouldn’t witness its affects until I got back to Earth. I was tangled in the wires, holding onto a half-opened manila folder with pictures of myself and an empty CD case. There was a blank CD in my back pocket.

I remembered I was in space so I knew I wasn’t supposed to breathe. I panicked. I started taking shorter breaths but I didn’t die. I kept breathing.

Suddenly, Matt appeared again. We were floating about the atmosphere. We were right above the last layer of clouds covering the Earth, but far enough to see it in its entirety. Maybe it was heaven.

I swam towards the pole sticking up out of the clouds that held the Moon up from the Earth. I reached for it with my right hand and caught hold to it. Surprisingly, it was cold enough to grip like any other pole in the wintertime.

He told me to hold onto my stuff or it would get sucked into Earth’s gravitational pull and rain down like hellfire. I asked “If I leave it up here, will future generations find my pictures and music as artifacts?” He answered, “I don’t know.”

We looked away from our conversation, astonished by the scenery. Beyond us, to my left and his right, was a horizonless field of red stars and meteors. We kept turning. The moon was a light hanging perpendicular to the pole I clenched. Next was the Earth: a swirl of green and blue, powdered with clouds, sided by a cold blinding sun.

We froze to a wooden bench under the pole. Matt pulled out his iPhone. He called up the lady; it was time to go home.