Whining and Spoken Word
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Work is pissing me off. We've been working short for the last month, ever since the Scottish exchanged student decided she was "homesick, unhappy, and isolated" enough to ditch out on us without so much as two weeks' notice. There's more to that story, but it's boring.
Anyway, we've been working short. I am not happy about it. We've (FINALLY) got a new exchange student coming on the 15th, and we'll get to enjoy 11 whole days with a full crew before our old exchange student leaves on the 26th. Then we're working short for another month.
My back's been hurting lately (not the good, hard-work type of muscle ache), and I suspect the longer hours and bigger workload are to blame.
I am pissy.
That is all.
Every Friday, my favorite local radio station, KMOJ, plays spoken word from 1pm to 2pm. Spoken word, if you've never heard of it, is basically poetry performed to a beat. Most of the stuff they play on KMOJ is borderline hip hop, but it's got a lot more substance than your typical top 40 rap songs. It's great stuff, and I make a point of listening whenever I can. Last week, an artist named Saul Williams particularly struck me. I thought I'd post an excerpt from one of his songs, as it reminded me of Prodigy.
Wine
Saul Williams
I could recite the grass on a hill
And memorize the moon
I know the cloud forms of love by heart
And have brought tears to the eye of a storm
My memory banks
Vaults of autumn forests and amazon river banks
And I have screamed them into sunsets
That echo in earthquakes
Shadows have been my spotlight
As I monologue with night
And dialogue the days
Soliloquies of wind and breeze
Applauded by sun rays
We put language in zoos
To observe caged thought
And tossed peanuts and p-funk at intellect
Motherfuckers think these are metaphors, I speak what I see
All words and worlds are metaphors of me
My life is authored by the moon, footprints written in soil
The fountain pen of martian men noveling human toil
And yes, the soil speaks highly of me
When earth seeds root me
Poet tree
One last thing. If any of you happen to speak spanish, and also happen to be very bored, how about translating a song for me? I'd be forever grateful. ;;)
Return of the Tres
Delinquent Habits
4.01 mb
Cool song -- not what you might expect, and definitely worth a listen even if you don't speak Spanish.
Work is pissing me off. We've been working short for the last month, ever since the Scottish exchanged student decided she was "homesick, unhappy, and isolated" enough to ditch out on us without so much as two weeks' notice. There's more to that story, but it's boring.
Anyway, we've been working short. I am not happy about it. We've (FINALLY) got a new exchange student coming on the 15th, and we'll get to enjoy 11 whole days with a full crew before our old exchange student leaves on the 26th. Then we're working short for another month.
My back's been hurting lately (not the good, hard-work type of muscle ache), and I suspect the longer hours and bigger workload are to blame.
I am pissy.
That is all.
Every Friday, my favorite local radio station, KMOJ, plays spoken word from 1pm to 2pm. Spoken word, if you've never heard of it, is basically poetry performed to a beat. Most of the stuff they play on KMOJ is borderline hip hop, but it's got a lot more substance than your typical top 40 rap songs. It's great stuff, and I make a point of listening whenever I can. Last week, an artist named Saul Williams particularly struck me. I thought I'd post an excerpt from one of his songs, as it reminded me of Prodigy.
Wine
Saul Williams
I could recite the grass on a hill
And memorize the moon
I know the cloud forms of love by heart
And have brought tears to the eye of a storm
My memory banks
Vaults of autumn forests and amazon river banks
And I have screamed them into sunsets
That echo in earthquakes
Shadows have been my spotlight
As I monologue with night
And dialogue the days
Soliloquies of wind and breeze
Applauded by sun rays
We put language in zoos
To observe caged thought
And tossed peanuts and p-funk at intellect
Motherfuckers think these are metaphors, I speak what I see
All words and worlds are metaphors of me
My life is authored by the moon, footprints written in soil
The fountain pen of martian men noveling human toil
And yes, the soil speaks highly of me
When earth seeds root me
Poet tree
One last thing. If any of you happen to speak spanish, and also happen to be very bored, how about translating a song for me? I'd be forever grateful. ;;)
Return of the Tres
Delinquent Habits
4.01 mb
Cool song -- not what you might expect, and definitely worth a listen even if you don't speak Spanish.