Beatnik Youth Ambient by John Sinclair THE JOHN SINCLAIR FOUNDATION First things first: On Saturday, October 2—if I live that long—I’ll make 80 years old and plan to celebrate in the city of my birth, Flint, Michigan, from 4:00 to 8:00 pm at the Genesee County Compassion Club, 6340 N. Genesee Rd. Everyone is welcome, donations and contributions will be dedicated to the John Sinclair Foundation, and I believe Steve The Fly will be hosting an intergalactic video broadcast of the event. More details will be announced very soon. Our original idea was to throw another big party like the one we had 5 years ago when I turned 75, returning…
poem
Bringing The Inside Out – Words and poems of people living in, working in and visiting care and nursing homes
'I would urge Health and Wellbeing Boards, Clinical Commissioning Groups, NHS memory clinics, social care services and charities, along with the rest of us, to please listen and consider how poetry and other art forms can positively impact the wellbeing and quality of life for those with a dementia and the people who care for them.' Paul M. Camic, Fellow of the Royal Society for Public Health Bringing The Inside Out 2020 Hear the real lived experience of carers, people experiencing a dementia living in care homes, and relatives about their experience of the pandemic. "Bringing The Inside Out" is a publication which includes the powerful words of people with a…
Deep Scratch – Steve Fly
Steve Fly has submitted Deep Scratch to Kindle. So, it's officially published. It's a deep dive roller-coaster ride I warn you, full on experimental black science fiction conspiracy prose. This work has been under construction for over a decade. You can follow the link here: Amazon Kindle Link https://a.co/cFUgiMD In Amsterdam, DJ Plush crafts new techniques for mixing things. After a failed music career and two violent attacks, one leaving his equipment smashed, the other his face, he seeks healing through art. Supported by his friends Max and Percy, they create TRB crew, blending turntablism, literature, beatbox and conspiracy. They’re promptly pulled hands-first into an unfinished spell from a dead wizard:…
Clouds Of Dust
Bush to the left of them Blair to the right Into the valley of death Drove the 5,000 In a great cloud of dust Into the jaws of Hell "There's not to reason Or ask of them why There's is to do and to die" After all that has gone There's no turning back For a Suicidal Cavalry Attack Who wants to be the last one to die? In a war that already is lost Who wants to be the last one to die? In a war that doesn't exist Two steps forward Then three steps back For a line that was drawn on a map…
Captain Of My Soul
I am the Captain of my soul I am the master of my fate And I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming home They'll send you to hell, with a habit of mind They'll make you a monster, with a habit of mind They'll force you to stand, it's a habit of mind And the sound of the shot, is just a habit of mind They'll put you away, with a habit of mind The sleight of the hand, is a habit of mind They'll say that you're crazy, with a habit of mind They'll burn you alive, with a habit of mind They'll keep you awake with a…
Leper Colony
Open the gate to the Leper Colony To a catalogue of quarantined ideas Where the one eyed madmen are imprisoned by the blind To the open sore beneath a concrete sky Open the gate Open the gate Open the gate to the last Leper Colony Open the gate to the place of all lost causes To the death of dreams, to the road that goes nowhere To the drone of traffic passing by outside And the rubbish sacks melting in the sun Open the gate to the last Leper Colony Open the gate to the last Leper Colony Open the gate to the last Leper Colony Open the…
The Walls
The fucking walls They're closing in They Draw the lines Around my mind Did you see that? Make it stop The fucking walls The fucking walls The fucking walls They keep us in No one is free You're one of them I hear the voice Inside my head The fucking walls The fucking walls We're fucking lost The dead walk They know your name And your address They turn you cold With Loneliness The fucking walls The fucking walls Words by Mark from Last Under The Sun
The Devil's Masquerade
In the darkness of street light I can see in infra red I can feel a million insect wings Beating in my head "Don't believe the human eye In sunlight or in shade This shadow show of sight and sense Is a Devil's Masquerade" When there's nothing but hell to pay Know that no one will speak to you Their friendship is a lie To them you're another fool As you watch you life go by Do anything you want You can't take the money with you It's a Devil's Masquerade Hand over Hand as you climb under the sky Here no one can see you, or try to…
Kill Generation
Hand them a mobile to say their goodbyes To their loved ones at home that they're leaving behind Force them to fight for a line in the sand A "Kill Generation" with a gun in their hand War Crime, War Crime It started with a handshake But now you're on fire No god can give you unquestionable rights Belief is no basis for intelligent life A guilt ridden grin showing white rotten teeth A War of attrition fed by greed and deceipt War Crime, War Crime It started with a handshake But now you're on fire Kill Generation Kill Generation Kill Generation You sold our sons…
Death on Credit
Join the "Cult of Amateur" here Selfish, Malignant, inducer of greed Infested with thousands, the fields are alive Open your eyes Take a good look At the yellowing crust You're stuck on a hook The Spread of the rot There's plague on this land Bring out your dead A thousand wired networks corrupting the grid Insatiable swarm of digital grubs Encrusting the ploughshare, destroying the crop Open your eyes Take a good look At the yellowing crust You're stuck on a hook The Spread of the rot There's plague on this land Bring out your dead Bring out your dead Death on Credit, Death On Credit …
Death's Rifles
No response to the order Nothing can make you answer them No Acceptance of the paper No Signature or mark Stood motionless Arms crossed with bowed heads Not the aim of Death's Rifles Will ever make them work The world is a step outside A grey sunless prison You could drop where you stand No one made it out of here alive To the mines or the marshland Where the wild cherry grows Not the aim of Death's Rifles Could ever make us work It's all in your mind All in your mind Not the freezing of the skin Or the cut of the razor Not the…
Faaacebook
They outlawed our kind We took to the hills The forest of never be found At night we sit beneath a starlit sky Is this the meaning of Free? What Kind of plan takes the food from their hands Expects us to do as they say We'll fight to the death until the last man down Ideas cannot die? Learn the maze, stay on the screen Only take what they give you for free Borders are not for keeping you out They're for keeping the slaves inside Sign up today, all they want is a name How much will it cost you to play? People will one…
Hooligan Jihad
50 Dogs, Broken Burner Freezing Squat, No Light Hooligan Jihad Gender Terror, Ice Cream Hand-woven, Vegan Kitchen Hooligan Jihad Broken Sink, Plum Vodka Pedal Power, Banana Wine Hooligan Jihad Hooligan...........................Jihad You can't play crust in fucking flip-flops..... You ruined my crust dream with your fucking flip-flops.... Hey Mark...let's go buy kuemmerling.....one hit....coma Hooligan Jihad Hooligan Jihad Hoo -Li -Gan -Ji -Had Words by Mark from Last Under The Sun - Hooligan Jihad CD
Beautane
One Last prayer to the god of despair (no going home, there's nowhere to go) one more drop for the firing squad (youre up to the wall, up to the wall) the shot will stop you dead on the spot all i hear, the railway lines, how many years will it take nothing but the long slow drop (no turning back, its all going black) how deep will you go, into the hole (into the hole, youre into the hole) huddled masses, cold in the dark all i see, the black and white, flickering screen of despair the sun burns down, on a desert world nothing but…
Gone
Today could be a good day Today could be our last day You never know your time to die My days are spent far underground Away from infra red and gunsights They'll never find us here Ill put them back Ill put them back into the ground The trees keep me invisible No human eye will ever find me I wont come quietly There are no devils in these hearts But their actions cannot pass me I'll take them one by one Ill put them back I'll put them back into the ground Ill put them back Words by Mark from Last Under The Sun -…
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