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Mon 17 Feb 2003
Bum Tracks
Posted by Lawrence Ythzak Braithwaite under Poetry
by Lawrence Ytzhak Braithwaite
for Jason Balaam
image by Vic Arndt
—————————————————————————————————–
No matter what the people say
No matter what
No matter what the people say
No matter what the people say
No matter what
No what the people the people say
This sound
Rules
Dark. The light sneaky. The stars hide. You cyan see. Tremble a block. Black as vinyl. You run around. A Jazzy era. A corner — a dark alley. Flipside masks the moon. Travel by cayn see. A map from moons a go crusie with what keeps time with a month. Too fretful to make the journey. The dipper drippin. Poor a likkle soul out for the uncourageous. Music calls us. We brag with. Vibrations to ride a word on. Begun. Beckon. Flipside walk heavy under heaven. All this and nothing to view. Who creeps pass that window. Voices shutter. Accusations. Speak it in whispers. Longboards to remember. Another night escape from the gutter. Guns and a brutha. Fyah in a corner. Manipulate water. Dub the lips form to a whistle …only a bass can be heard. Just exits to schizophrenic faces come to dybbuk. Lizards take flight. TV parties and a six pack bring equality. Strip your consciousness and make coitus with G-d. Voice devoured in October. Here the echo of those bodiless speeches lost in acoustic spaces. Flipside hopes to give new meaning to bombing with bass. Trick and race the riddim. Dutty faces thinking time has come to reinvent the mission.
This
matter
This
No
matter
This
No
This
What
No
This
No
what
This
what
Flipside hears creeping. Heavy heavy steps into the stanza. Shka/shka/shka/shka. A sound collector set to mix this narrative proper. Mad Professor. An upsetter; literary to oral. Pacific Frontal. A written matter. Shrapnel jammin masters. Reflect pon the thought. Check the weaving of the cipher. Did you suss it. Fix you can beat it. Figure the meaning is hidden. Echo the audio catcher. Kind of tricky. Like roots/rap/reggae. It’s faith without mystery.
No matter what the people say
No matter what
No matter what the people say
Dark the light sneaky. The stars hide. You cyan see. Making passes to test a crimey/ everlasting. Right to left the conversion of an intellectual. Milk drips in the kitchen. Wax paper as sexual protection. Longboards. Blue beat a record. Games played to perfection. Injections. Fixes make physical intrusions. It’s tricky. Diction becomes allusion to the ancients. Who crawls out from across the pipes in that room? Scatter the scatting lingo along the walls and carpets. Take another minute in the meditation on madness.
You kno
You kno
You kno
You kno
You kno
Come Ghost closely
I me fe me
Fa go you en me
I wanna whip darkhearts
Dig my murdah stylee
I flow like Stanard Ridgeway
A b-bwai turn ese
Set trip with operators
Hum drum the harmonics
Let me roll with Balaam
Illusions passionate
Bit map the daps
Infected stereo
Clappers blown mics
Poppy negrow
Undercover Aryans
Bloody bastards
What’s your profile
Poetics my vehicle
Dodgy narratives
Inna meta-victoria
Groovey musical
Concrete locos
Blowin rolas
Beat come catch me
Fix me subliminal
What’s your profile
Poetics my vehicle
Dodgy narratives
Inna meta-victoria
X-ray specific
Bustin rhythmic
My Scriptures
Hollad over
Turntablist
Fabulous
Helium canisters
Police and criminals
What’s your profile
Poetics my vehicle
Dodgy narratives
Inna meta-victoria
Poor folk fyah
Seal the clay figure
Born under crunches
Rapero spittin wire
Manifest you virtual rudies
A nouvo cholo
Ghost inna Stealth bomb you
What’s your profile
Poetics my vehicle
Dodgy narratives
Inna meta-victoria
I hear no
Fear Kno
I be
See that kid
Motion his spin
Centrifugal
What’s your profile
Poetics my vehicle
Dodgy narratives
Inna meta-victoria
Surrealism
Merging word to chant low
Revolution
Airing mixes on pirate radio
Proper upper
Scientific coastal
The riddim
Eye poppers
Full frontal
What’s your profile
Poetics my vehicle
Dodgy narratives
Inna meta-victoria
Equalizer come digital
Accustic space
This inspiration an El
Flash as G-d
Seletah sonic me
What’s your profile
Poetics my vehicle
Dodgy narratives
Inna meta-victoria
Fret not
Guide me
He said Be
Harmonic allussional
A dark ark in the heart of the Hood
Lee Scratch Perry
What’s your profile
Poetics my vehicle
Dodgy narratives
Inna meta-victoria
Juk it proper
My spiritual mixer
Sound Born corporeal
Mental flanger
Fix me physical
Balance the syntax on tracks stretch from used griptapes. Flipside rides with chariots like sk8s. Ballcaps and horns silky plates layed across streets. His spitfire maidens print the stencil. Treble the rumble make it amplify to echo analyze the wave form — static balance. He’s become a personality jock revolutionary. Will he break the key? Zippers hidden under sleeves. You seen my? You know my? Check the stop motion. 12 hidden clues. 1- 40 find the lessons in 120. G-d as a guru. Gangstas become stars. Allah in math class sittin at the desk next to you. Keep is sipple. Sneaky speeches creepin along the still outside. Is it fiction? His mind drives him to the real. 7.5 to 35. You seen the steel? It glisten like the star what went missing. Dark the light. The sun come red fa down. Smoke an ounce so you cyan see.
No matter what the people say
No matter what
No matter what the people say
Dark the light sneaky. The stars hide. You cyan see. Making passes to test a crimey everlasting. Mark the moon. The maps gon a hazy. Ital mashes on plastique. Bomb you grafs of physicality. High like and mighty. Nudity in a crimey gon a tempting in close proximity. Supreme manic behavior. Al Jazirah. Voices shutter. Accusations. Accoustic spaces. It’s tricky. Speak it in whispers. Longboards to remember. Another night escape from the gutter. Gunning with a brutha.
Dig my murdah stylee
Crashing mind matter
Corpreal
Whisper
Epitome of a thought/Logic and actuality
More the word/Metaphors /Vehicle the poetry
You cyan see/Listen in the dark/Fingers caught
Rimshot
Make the vinyl go boom
Breakin Djs/A plate to play/Soon come the whisper/Helium cannister
Watch the centre /Dutty faces
Swoon
Dark the light places/Burn the image/Scatter the word sneaky
Focus the moon
Blue beat/A selectah
A meta-victoria /Dope writs and narratives
The stars held captives
Longboards to remember
Smashin bones
Profile your sound
In the heart of Fernwood /Backspinnin poems
Stompin fa Miles
Flipside reborn/45s and serials
Simple minded amo/A song/armigedeon
I am/Laying tracks with Balaam
Voices shutter /Brutha
On a corner
Roles on my island
Blah!!!
Building galaxys/Al Jazirah/Seen?
Manifesting oral matter /The peoples /Jukin needles
Water written/healing clean/A tricky quality
Night make mighty/Chant make to utter
Articles
Human
Conversion
Voices from a gutter/born it lyrical
Being
Sincing tones in a brutha
Revolution
Allusion
Heavy steppin in a stanza
Edgy dapper
Mics and clappers
Bloody bastards
A proper profile/What you think/Think you can delete it/Did you feel it
Dig my murdah style/Equalizer come digital/This inspiration an El
Accoustic space/Harmonic/Trick and race
My vehicle
Lost speeches
A block
You clock
Village Idiots
Mixes/dodgey faces
Fix you/Did you
Peep it/Can you
See
This sound
0
Unknown /cut you
Vorticists and 12 jewells
You seen/You know/My profile/Naked and ital
Style
My vehicle pounds/you/treble the rumble
Make it amplify to echo
Analyze the wave form
Concrete/subliminal
Dutty grilled metaphors
Suckin dics and micz
Blowin speakers
This microchip tastes nice
What the fyah say
Why rule the world for a day
24 bruthas
Polyrythmic corner
Static my physical/poem/
Damn us
A cause notorious
Hostile
Verses
Antagonistic/spits
Witness I King Stitt
Lost in the darkness of elements
August 20th, 2006 at 2:24 am
Bobbie Jeane () @ 11/01/2003 17:23:
I have loved your posts on queejihad, now I found this. WOW! “Strip your consciousness and make coitus with G-d.” Yes, but how? “Flash as G-d.” Where? “G-d as guru.” Agreed. “Allah in math class sittin at the desk next to you.” Agreed. What path did you take to gain this knowledge? When I was a Catholic at age 17 I wanted to be a nun (married to God—I did not know it was really a marriage to the church) and the obvious next thought was “how am I going to consummate this marriage?” Operating under the assumption that Jesus was God, and He was part of the creation of sex, I figured (please excuse the possible [to you] blasphemy) that he would be the best lay of any man in existence because he invented it.
I read your words and say to myself “He KNOWS!” I am pleased to have made your acquaintenance.
Love, Bobbie Jeanne
August 20th, 2006 at 2:25 am
Ishaq 11/09/2003 01:59:
We are all elements of Allah/God. Thus we speak of earliy manifestations of that element — Native peoples and Africa what have been, when assembled, called Black peoples by western eyes. Ska and the DJ. Jamaica. God is guru and Guru of Gang Starr is an element and member of the original elements which he express through his sic/ill (meaning good) steez with his boss seletah DJ Premier. It is a 5% collusion of my meditaion on madness an act of redemption made mainfest in the heart of my hood which is New Palestine aka the Hood (government name Fernwood/city of Victoria, BC). Jason Balaam, a father and creator of art and good vibe, is the physical vehicle some call a male muse for the recitation which was fueled by the Most High and Compassionate as I feel Him over the peoples in my Hood/New Palestine.
I much appreciate that you focus on the melding of Allah and the clots of blood which He made manifest into us. Each hunt for Knowledge is like a prayer = atum = Adam.
Much respe
August 20th, 2006 at 2:25 am
joeblow@dicksmoke.com () @ 11/01/2003 17:51:
Hmm. Interesting! I learned some new words today! Thanx G!
August 20th, 2006 at 2:26 am
jesse1735@hotmail.com () @ 11/01/2003 17:51:
fucking amazing!!
August 20th, 2006 at 2:26 am
satur9@hotmail.com () @ 11/01/2003 17:52:
hell 2 the fuck yeah!!!!!!
August 20th, 2006 at 2:27 am
11/09/2003 02:01:
Sweet and much thanks for the big up!!!
August 20th, 2006 at 2:28 am
mikegriffiths6@yahoo.com () @ 11/01/2003 17:52:
Really good stuff.
August 20th, 2006 at 2:29 am
Crystal Currie () @ 11/01/2003 17:53:
Finally people are seeing the vision that Lawrence has been trying to create for years. Lawrence has been writing for as long as I can remember, and his work is so beautifully written, it’s hard to believe that it took society so long to get the picture. Thank you for showing people what I see.
August 20th, 2006 at 2:29 am
Ishaq 11/09/2003 02:01:
Bigup back to a kind person!!!
August 20th, 2006 at 2:30 am
Feedback-to-Feedback
Lewis LaCook (http://www.lewislacook.com) @ 12/12/2003 17:46:
kool shit, man…
i like the term “dub” literature quite a bit—have you ever read gertrude stein? some of her work is perfectly this—though, socioculturally, a bit bourgeois…
in any case—very good work–and please keep wearing away at the buffalo poetics list–those fuckers need it!
bliss
August 20th, 2006 at 2:30 am
Arthur Basque () @ 09/06/2004 07:44:
Lawrence used to self-identify as a black, Jewish, homosexual author, and now he self-identifies as a black Islamic — which is great of course — but he also happens to now regularly author ugly homophobic material at Victoria Indymedia under the handle “Ytzhak”. This is a saddening turn of events to be sure.
I’ve long found Lawrence’s writing bland and feel it receives far more positive feedback than is warranted. I’ve suspected this is largely due to that patronizing phenomenon known as reverse racism that we so often silently observe.
I notice in the piece titled “Bum Tracks” that he inserts self-orienting words like “narrative” into the otherwise directionless pool of doggerel. Still, as with all of us, there is hope for improvement.