Within The Confines of a Beautiful Mind

This blog will follow a jaded prospective author's not so riveting journey (or descent) into the dark recesses of abstract thought. Follow along as our brave hero does daring do, and attempts to battle mediocrity, armed with nothing but astute observation and a penchant for self expression.

often within the brevity of absolute clarity I re-realize that one must be either dying or in love to attempt to saddle this storm.

saints & sluts.

good morals don’t rub off; they rub off.

"You cannot draw for freedom or write for justice anymore than you can war for peace or hope for love; all change is internally volatile and externally inert."

— C.B.M

"I wouldn’t call identity crisis a crisis. I would call it “Life” I know it is hard to imagine, but look at it this way; If you believe a chair is actually a table and the whole world tells you it’s a chair, is it? Seriously that is the most serious decision of a life time. If you believe you are one thing and the whole world tells you different, are you? The worst part about this dilemma is that both parties are wrong and right. The only way I perceive overcoming this question is ask yourself another. “Who knows you better?” The answer isn’t as easy as you think."

—

Meandered Thought

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~C.B.M

The problem with hip-hop is that it is an art, and art is supposed to imitate life. But when your largest consumer base is a demographic that completely lacks experiential knowledge, life starts to imitate art; and with the bastardization of hip-hop for the mass appeal, this is a huge problem. This will change the only way people know how, with a counter-culture movement.

THE HIPSTER-HOP MOVEMENT

COMING SOON

ARE YOU…POETRY IN MOTION?

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~C.B.M

Free Write #47: Black Ice, White Hot

Our tongues whip and crash against eachother
Like a high tide cometh against a cliff
Never ceasing to stop
A semi silent utterance
A gravitational compliance
A push
Pull
Lift
Queitly implying our deepest secrets
The ones that are well hidden
Inside the inner lining
Of the inner pocket
Of our lips
“I want to be free”
And more than just a whim
It is a apex of our own
The highest timbre
Of the uppermost echelon
Of thought
Of existence
“I want to be more than free…I want to be free with you.”
As the tongues slit rendevous
The lips clasp
Vice
Tight
Not wanting to bid farewell
But sadly the conjoin is over
As the lips part…for what they feel is the last time
A question their mind does find…
Does Black ice ever wish warm?
White hot ever lust frost?
Do the waves ever think stop?

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~C.B.M

Free Write #104: A Long Thin Wire

It hounds me
Astounds me
How in the corner of my eye
I can see the
Slowly elongating web
Of percieved desires
The puppet strings
Pulling tongues twisting the truth out of liars
Its like
We are all interconnected by one long thing wire
That pulls us around
That cries wolf
And yells fire
Surely you must see it too
Behind the maybe you shoulds
And I love yous
Entrenched in society
Where you find the proudest marionettes
Slinking about casually
Arguing when thier strings snap
Or get entangled but actually
Its all just the Gepettos
Twirly thier pencil thin mustaches dastardly
There! there! I can feel it pulling back at me
Vibrations mustering all of the retribution
And bad mojo it can cast at me
But you know what?
I don’t care
You can call me a liar
But please
Please!
Don’t cut my long thin wire!

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~C.B.M