“When the WINDS blow onto West-End-Gy” – by The Distorted Poet

•April 11, 2014 • Leave a Comment

“Have fun racing… bye.”  A last text I decided to remark upon. So tired of waiting, and life is too short for mourn, as we all know. So it is time for me to allow the spring to be at full bloom and watch the honey bees mate, sting my with their love bind and see where the world leads beyond. I am cleared from the bind of that wicked witch from old and desire the white witch of the now to be full, pink, perfect and in sync with my ways, our love, and our future… And I am tired of waiting for the old fuse that blew me away in July of last year… Please enjoy this piece, I wrote below. Please note the phrase “West-End-Gy” is pronounced: West End Gee (like Geek).

 

“WHEN THE WINDS BLOW ONTO WEST-END-GY”

 

When the WINDS, blow on West-End-Gy

The world flows like glitter in our eyes,

The world flows like shivers in our hearts

The world flows like sparkles in our minds,

And when the WINDS blow on West-End-Gy… you know the best is here to be.

 

And we dance around like we are the only ones around

And we dance and laugh, and dance and sing, and dance around, and dance around and dance dance dance to our West-End-Gy.

When the WINDS blow on West-End-Gy,

We see the river waters rise and flow without paths,

And we wonder where we are, and what do we continue to do;

And we walk un shackled like the rest of the world is, and we fall in our own realms until we come clear into our years

 

And we sing and laugh and dance and sing and laugh and laugh and watch the WINDS blow onto West-End-Gy.

Calm into you.

Calm into you.

Calm into you… and dance!

-End-

(c) 2014, Michael G. Stone

 

 

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Another day Quarantined.

•April 9, 2014 • Leave a Comment

It really is strange that I have been sick with this flu-turned-laryngitis for almost one week now.

I really hate taking cough suppressants,

 

 

 

I think the only pro of having this cold is to realize that outside lately have been in the 80-90 *photo copy 3 range and it feels cold to me. Other than that, this cold really sucks. This cold knocked me down good.  The photo shows me knocked on my ass due to these little microbial body destroyers, over riding my body and slowly tearing me apart.

 

I can barely think straight enough to write, much less have been doing any writing lately. I did write a letter recently, and decided not to send it out, do to the pages being infested with so many microbes by me coughing onto the page while writing… Don’t think it would be a good thing, sending it out to another Country to evolve with this flu that I somehow received out here…sick in bed Still cannot pin point where I could have received this death flu…

 

I imagine this will fall off into the abyss soon enough, and I am about done with harvesting such a dreadful virus for almost one week straight. Did I mention how much I hate cough suppressant syrups, aspirin,

 

For now… it just is.

-TDP, Michael

 

 

 

 

A terrible Spring cold.

•April 8, 2014 • Leave a Comment

photo

 

 

Day five of this terrible spring cold is now one step higher; and I woke up this morning to absolutely no voice as I told myself… “Oh, great.” and went back to sleep. That was at 2:35am (0235)… And I write this now at 7:41pm (1941) And I wrote this to let the people around me know that my voice was out and could not have a normal conversation.

 

 

 

 

I hate feeling like this… And I imagine it was necessaryphoto copy .

To the right of this is a photo of me while placing an Amon Ra stone on my forehead and I laid there for a while; meditating on a lot of things that are negative and positive in my life. And I feel it is time for me to rid myself of the negative and follow thru with the positive aspects and inspirations of my own. I do enjoy how the photograph is a bit blurred, and it shows a similar idea of how I was feeling at the time and even now, as my body perspires and is releasing toxins from my body. I do feel a sense of energy and I also have decided to focus on things much further than I have been.

I imagine I should take a nice hot shower soon. And I do indeed feel more energetic within, however I do feel I need rest still and hopefully it will release from my body completely in a couple more days. Who knows.

 

I can not wait to snap out of this very bad cold… I really hate the taste of cough syrup. One of the Buddhist monks where I live just knocked on my door and handed me some over the counter medication. I hope it helps. Glad he is good to me.

I obviously have not been recording anything from the Darkest Garden as of late. For obvious reasons. I am glad I have been getting energy back though. Never knew what a cold could be like until this one arrived.

 

I will write more soon enough.

 

 

 

Forest of Caves, The Darkest Garden (Audio Discussion) by The Distorted Poet

•March 29, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Last night, while writing I was venting out and while doing so, feeling alone I noticed the wild flickering of my light bulb, and moments later I decided to create a video teaser for the audio recording of the Darkest Garden. Mind you, this piece is over 8000 words. So, the audio version will be longer than [Insert what ever you can think of, here].

Here is that teaser; produced, recorded and edited by yours truly. NOTE: Please use headphones during this video viewing. Thank you.

 

 

I kind of did not want to write much this evening on here, however I will… I have been recording The Darkest Garden for the past week now. And once I complete the tracks, I will review/listen to each one and either re-record selected versions I dislike and keep the rest the way they are. My recording studio is in my room. Nothing special, and I do not plan on going to some fancy recording studio to record something I can do simply on my own. I have always been fortunate and savvy that way.

I used the first six words in the teaser towards the end, if you did not notice, or have not read the darkest garden. This is the transcript below:

“I was once in a dream…”

 

The second portion [not in video] reads:

…”I called it a fairytale.”

 

Ah, what the hell… I’ll just write the rest of the words of the first track here:

 

“You were lying with me, and your eyes stared into space… pale.

There is a visible garden in my eyes.

Its color pattern rainbows in front of me.

Strange noises from those battle ships come,

and tearing apart the land around us.

I point my finger up at them,

And slowly watch them… come crashing down.”

 

 

GAWD, I loved writing that first part. Imagine a gentleman of high political power, with his love, his muse, laying together in a garden. The two of them are surrounded in a city wide pod like shield, while a war of air ships above, attacking the region… And the two of them are not at all worried, as the man takes on a long journey into self meditation, and visual invocations of summoning many various creatures, past time periods and deeper thinking.

 

Meanwhiles. I hope anyone who reads these words enjoyed the teaser. And cheers,

TDP, Michael

 

 

 

 

As I watch the world, Fade… From the Western shore. -A discussion by The Distorted Poet

•March 24, 2014 • Leave a Comment

SONY DSC

While looking up at the stars tonight, gazing up I noticed that I have a lot of deep thinking to endure. And I said this out loud to the sky above;

The Video above is what you will read below. Enjoy the video and the words.

Why oh why,

Do I stare up at the stars in my eyes,

As I look up above,

At the sky…

Instead of looking into your eyes.

Instead of looking into your eyes.

-End-

The piece below was published in the book “Forest of Caves: The Darkest Garden” in 2009. The piece was later used by the German band “Haujobb” and the band used the title for the cover. More details of that here; NEW WORLD MARCH

New World March

There is no time for perception

There is no where to go anymore.

I’ve lost my flame an hour ago

As I watch the world fade from the Western shore.

Come to me with your pleasures

Come to me with your surprise

Watch all of the Machines take over

…As  I fall so lost in your eyes.

There is no time for perception

There is no where to go anymore.

Time to run for cover

The New World March is on the road.

The New Word March is on the road.

The New World March is on…

Come to me with your pleasures

Come to me with your surprise

Watch all of the machines take over

…As I call so lost in your eyes.

Come to me with your pleasures

Come to me with your surprise

Watch all of the Machines take over

As I fall so lost in your eyes.

-End-

(c) 2014 The Distorted Poet, Michael G. Stone

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

A Valentine Poem – Written by The Distorted Poet

•February 14, 2014 • Leave a Comment

A Valentine Poem (C) 2014

Enjoy, my lovers.

A Valentine Poem

The love,
Two rivers blend to one.
The rose,
The seeds to roots to stem to bloom.
The heart,
Your beauty to smile to laughter to kiss to love to swoon.
The couple,
A walk to a ride to a stumble to walk again on that golden road of ours.
And then; this day arrives.
May your hearts bloom together
May your souls find one another eternally
May your joys and memories of happiness together overrule the futile hardships on the way.
May your minds be at peace with each other.
May your hearts warm inside for each other every single day.
A valentine. Our valentine.
Kiss your love, alive.
(C) 2014 The Distorted Poet, Michael G. Stone
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

“1BC – The Birth of Jesus Christ, again” -Michael G. Stone

•October 1, 2013 • Leave a Comment

I wrote this in early 1995, however I decided to rearrange it into the modern age of our social internet society. The beginning is the same, and the rest I changed completely to show how much we have changed in society since our digital age.

Please enjoy this piece that is simply for broadminded adults only. If you cannot handle a work of poetry that consists of a subjective environment, I would advice you simply not read this piece by no means whatsoever. For the rest of my readers, enjoy.

1BC Poem 2013 Photo
                         “1B.C – The birth of Jesus Christ, again”
Many centuries ago,
Let us call it one B. C.
Well, I was just…
You know, sitting alone,
And watching some T.V.
Waiting for the main event to arrive;
“THE BIRTH OF JESUS CHRIST”
Live, and on via satellite.
People all over the world gathered around.
Glued and waiting for it all to finally begin on TV.
And mother Mary,
Legs wide open for public viewing.
Wait for it,
Wait for it…
And there, he squeezed out.
Everyone stared,
Some criticized the moment,
Some cried out with joy,
Some broke out in tears,
And some lashed out with rage,
And many did not care.
And everyone,
And everyone… And I do mean;
Everyone… Watched it live,
On Via satellite.
Some protested he be killed immediately.
Others took him away,
In hiding.
And no one heard a thing about him until around the age of thirty.
The media stormed to him like raging vultures would,
And everyone watched on their royal drone tubes.
And his ministry began,
While the cameras were there; twenty four hours a day.
Healing the sick,
Walking on water,
And never, ever entering into the city,
And the media asked why he would never enter the city,
And as the world watched and waited for his answer,
He replied “I would condemn them.”
And the people thought; a terrorist?
And the authorities arrested him,
And the liberals all raged
“Pin him on the cross like the scum he is!”
And others raged
“Shoot him dead!”
“Rip him apart limb from limb!”
And others raged
“He is the savior, let him go!”
And he, replied to everyone
Let me be,
For I am the way
The truth
And the light
And I am meant to die for all who sins.
And the authorities nailed his hands painfully to the cross
As they lashed him to move forward
Up and up
To the town hill top
And all the media coverage you ever wanted was on every channel
And everyone watched
And everyone posted twitter commentary
And everyone posted Facebook and myspace opinions
And he, who was born
His only begotten son
Forgave everyone
As he walked to the top of the mountain
As he was followed by helicopters
And cameramen and reporters who loved the coverage
And bled there; slowly dying under a heated sun
With only a pair of dirty briefs
And nothing else.
And his body died and his soul; freed.
And people cheered
And people partied in the streets
And people got drunk and made love
And some mourned
And some cried
And some couldn’t understand why.
Your god,
Who gave birth to a child on one B.C.

Written by the creator of the Forest of Caves series.

(C) 2013 THE DISTORTED POET, MICHAEL G. STONE  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED