Toward Conquering
The Invisible North
Copyright, Philip Radiotes.
Drums by Kevin Estrada
Third World American [peekaboo name=”third”][/peekaboo]
International Introvert [peekaboo name=”international”][/peekaboo]
Loyal (only the heart is) [peekaboo name=”loyal”][/peekaboo]
La Bastille [peekaboo name=”labastille”][/peekaboo]
Teamwork [peekaboo name=”teamwork”][/peekaboo]
I Will Reverse It [peekaboo name=”reverse”][/peekaboo]
High Art [peekaboo name=”high”][/peekaboo]
Tourist Traps [peekaboo name=”traps”][/peekaboo]
Saviour On The Way [peekaboo name=”saviour”][/peekaboo]
There’ll Be A Day [peekaboo name=”day”][/peekaboo]
Beautiful And Pitiful [peekaboo name=”beaut”][/peekaboo]
The People In Charge [peekaboo name=”people”][/peekaboo]
[peekaboo_content name=”third” start=”hidden”]THIRD WORLD AMERICAN
through the rough vein
let the malady flow
like the orphaned
from a runaway home
we can’t abandon
where we hear no welcome
for we are stranded
by our tightening hold
where we stand
only subtracts
from the cover we need
to keep moving
the opinions pilaged
without fingerprints
even as we looked
all the books were cooked
that to which we cling
loses meaning
we are foreign at home
we are banished now to roam
where the heart beats
only out of tempo
with the fixed speeds
of the rest of the world
there is a timing
we forget that we know
through our blood stream
to our genetic code
if and when
it is to happen
i will be prepared
from how the past faired
this culture fails me
it isolates me
there are holes in my name
i know where each and every came
the needy and greedy can go
wrapped up in a glow
i will bear no torch
my feet will venture forth
to the third world
of our home soil
where our touch aims
is already recoiled
so through the rough vein
let the malady flow
until we reach where
no one living can go
third world american
its you to lead the way
[/peekaboo_content][peekaboo_content name=”international” start=”hidden”]
INTERNATIONAL INTROVERT
international introvert
i’m looking for you
through the settlings of silences
for even a clue
neither map nor narrative
have taken the step
from the parting of lips to where
your voices are kept
something in the rendering
must be worth keeping quiet for
something seeming certain
that if anybody heard
little lines level languages
from taking their shape
leaving only a languishing
to communicate
for the love of their people
for the love of their heart
now they’re tongue tied together
and can get apart
there are words that must be finished
before we can start
something in the rendering
must be worth keeping quiet for
something seeming certain
that if anybody heard
they would hang off of every word
international introvert[/peekaboo_content][peekaboo_content name=”loyal” start=”hidden”]
LOYAL (ONLY THE HEART IS)
loyal
loyal only the heart is
loyal loyal
loyal only the heart is
i’ve taken every precaution to keep
my heart protected
but now in hindsight the result’s
never as i expected
for in attempts
to armor myself
i end up blocking
every step
i must take to remain loyal
oh how i long for days we would laugh
away every sense
and the reason for our joy was never
at another’s expense
it was the pure connection sought
between those who knew no fault
nor better way
than to remain loyal
they try to trample and trick away my treasured heart
the prouder i become i’m seen as an easy mark
one who will fold easily
but they’ve no vision to see
i can not be changed
i will remain loyal[/peekaboo_content][peekaboo_content name=”labastille” start=”hidden”]
LA BASTILLE
when the temperature comes down
who will be the first to feel?
the one who caught the capture or
the forces that have made it real?
when the camera flashes blind
who was sitting on the opera steps
the capillary action finds
only after virtue left
here we’re seeing just as clear
shifts that we pain to create
while in real time we watch
all their definitions change
but i believe in history
to the point of being written down
we don’t know how its going to read
only honor how it sounds
dead air won’t breathe life into any heart
i can see the ghosts of men
spearheaded by a resolve
the stronghold who never gave pause
to see their aftershocks evolve
but when we spill a little blood
so the rockets keep their run glare
is our destiny manifest
or is it coming surface to air?
dead air won’t breathe life into any heart
dead air is all we are
america
will you see yourself
or are you afraid of a reflection
that’s impossible to get away from?
for when another body breathes as your own
that will be the final blow to a feeble revolt
dead air won’t breathe life into any heart
dead air is all we are
we are the final blow to a feeble revolt
[/peekaboo_content][peekaboo_content name=”teamwork” start=”hidden”]
TEAMWORK
mistaken for pushy i’ll be
recruiting the ideal friend
to take the rightful place
atop our human pyramid
a macho who can muscle their way
to feel individual
but only thrown in a pack
will lay true claim to the title
we were raised to only see our line
strike another across
don’t you realize it kept our wonder
stuck in the incubation stage
i learned that an early age
i learned that an early age we are help
teamwork is the bigger man’s flaunt
you can tease us all that you want
teamwork is the bigger man’s flaunt
blur your eyes when you look at me
and i’ll do the same for you
where we round over detail
arise aboriginal truth
cause I know that whatever you’ve take from me
I’ll take yours when you’re weary
it’ll be same weight
but lighter to carry
there are vows of a solidarity
in our mixing of blood
to never rearrange a different slogan
from stuck up and the corrupted pacts
no need for reenacting that
no need for reenacting that with our help
teamwork is the bigger man’s flaunt
you can tease us all that you want
teamwork is the bigger man’s flaunt
never fear you are trading in freedom
for a pat on the butt
you may be a trust fall from learning
we keep away crumbling
nothing better than creation worth focussing
nothing better than creation worth focussing on
teamwork is the bigger man’s flaunt
you can tease us all that you want
teamwork is the bigger man’s flaunt[/peekaboo_content][peekaboo_content name=”reverse” start=”hidden”]
I WILL REVERSE IT
a little bit of what makes portraits fall
a little hole left in the wall
it’s a sentiment, omen and a notice
to remind us all
the war you’ve gotten ourselves in
was easy to begin but hard to end
hard for one like you to end
i got a way of knowing how to turn
the big bad woe to no concern
you may seem too far along now
but i have learned
the obstacle
from it’s perception
you wandered in
the wrong direction
but i will reverse it
ain’t no lie
no need to rehearse it
i can get it right
on the first try
the all-disguing point of view
where nothing pierces you
you only wished this upon yourself
until the day it came true
i’ve no need to hear it clearer
dim the lights
smoke and mirrors
I’ll dig down through the willows of your problem
that time allowed to cultivate
find the little seed it started out from
and flick it right out of place
you can forge a clean bill of health
or you can run to convenience
but only what you face again and again
will lose effect
and where you’re unfamiliar
you’ll will run into me
when your northern star is pointing south[/peekaboo_content][peekaboo_content name=”high” start=”hidden”]
HIGH ART
look at how all the colors sit
you missed the moment and covered their agreement
now your stuck with a period piece
dated enough to match your contemporaries
instantly invoking the types
they clutch on to for bragging rites
further thinning down whatever heart
in the watered down sources you call high art
i almost lost creative touch
this set of twins look nothing alike
even in a low light, covering up either eye
took your technique and you sketched it in
the model employee paints the model citizens
alot of supply, alot of money
poof. convention leads to popularity
move into a room with an abreviated view of the pantheon
location or inspiration?
i almost lost creative touch
i almost lost
but you can’t
hide it on your canvas
find it on your page
the only idea worth staying the same is one
that changes up
back when marble made masterpiece
and allowed to a name the acclaim of its achieving
they knew better than to make a move
the hand holding theirs would only have to improve
i almost lost creative touch
i almost lost
but you can’t
hide it on your canvas
find it on your page
the only idea that stays the same is one
that changes up[/peekaboo_content][peekaboo_content name=”traps” start=”hidden”]
TOURIST TRAPS
i want to go where the native would go
but I don’t know my way around
i want to chase what is taking place
in the far folds of your town
but every map
leads me right back to the tourist traps
where’s the way I can take to escape
photo opportunities
of the sights that are memorized
all before even visiting?
but every map
leads me right back to the tourist traps
i want to turn here
i want to turn around
i want to find something special
not get lost in a crowd
i’m afraid i may have to take home
the same memories that everybody else found
let me know what they are settling for
so i don’t make the same mistake
of falling into following
as our fates slowly seperate
but every map
leads me right back to the tourist traps
i want to turn here
i want to around
i want to find something special
not get lost in a crowd
i’m afraid i may have to take home
the same memories somebody else has found
but every map
leads me right back to the tourist traps
[/peekaboo_content][peekaboo_content name=”saviour” start=”hidden”]
SAVIOUR ON THE WAY
the first is a mother that apologies climb
swathed in a virginal blue and white
polka dotted with lilac wine
saviour on the way
she pass into elder with the smell of a babe
she’s the troubadour on whom you wait
to sing your life awake
saviour on the way
the second is passion like an aimless art
she swallows the tail from where it starts
has a twenty pound ruby we call her heart
saviour on the way
she’s a tragedy of goodwill as a concubine
she puts knots in a new year like it was twine
holidays won’t untie
saviour on the way
the third in line bears fruit for death
where the moon is old and poorly dressed
towed by her lineage
saviour on the way
she speaks in a language we won’t decipher
until the years have past condemned to fight for
coming full cycle
saviour on the way
the trinity a world apart
she appears to me as a
congruent reflection
braided into one
but only when held up high
to the drop of bleed light
that falters every night[/peekaboo_content][peekaboo_content name=”day” start=”hidden”]
THERE’LL BE A DAY
as the lamplight spinned from us
and with it our shadow
stretched apart our shapes
and our opinions
we were redwood tall
we could bend ‘cross walls
easily we’re within anyone
there’ll be a day
when all this passes away
a congress of stars debate our fate
and there’ll be a time
when every soul will shine
a light that burns to be our guide
there’s a place not far from here
depending on the day
either can be torn apart or tight knit
either great or small
either one or all
we decide just how the pieces fit
there’ll be a day
when all this passes away
a congress of stars debate our fate
and there’ll be a time
when every soul will shine
a light that burns to be our guide
if we’re the ones creating
then i’m not waiting
i will be all i can visualize[/peekaboo_content][peekaboo_content name=”beaut” start=”hidden”]
BEAUTIFUL AND PITIFUL
below is only lonlier
from above
my heart is most content
without love
here more than able
to see what’s spread on the table
i still can’t grab hold
beautifully pitiful
the local girls forget
quicker
but wildly are very first
to remember
what’s on the surface
a morsel of what they notice
but all that’s ever told’s
pitifully beautiful
the couple argues paths
to goodbyes
unwilling to hear the sound of
their demise
aware of fighting
patch up such an sheer uniting
to be seen as normal
not beautiful nor pitiful
now our love is the second pouring
of hotwater on a bag of tea
weaker the taste and color on the tongue
no matter how long
there’s only so much ear
to the night
if no one wants to hear
then i’ll write
we pledge one or the other
but alone remain unemcumbered
exceptions to the rule
beautiful and pitiful[/peekaboo_content][peekaboo_content name=”people” start=”hidden”]
THE PEOPLE IN CHARGE
sit here and look
between the branches of that tree
and city hall fits perfectly
there’s not a word to anchor this
that still exists
and i’s raised on watching dusty planes
flying past the old window
of your mother’s makeshift church
she had you first
you were an only child
for what seems but a while
from study of
the learning curves upon her face
her pillow case
resolved in civil fees
where witnesses from neither family
propped two upon shallow frontier
then disappeared
like shortened lives of men
who leave their widows to the moment when
they past the sight
to the scent
beneath the canopy
all nature is nurture and every
trait tracable for your repair
like colored hair
where holy rollers keep their cling
now every daughter has a ring
to curl towards and fall behind
the next in line
who’ll never learn your dead language
the essence of a depression
we can’t afford more children
but now when
she climbs up her family tree
a view of time instead of scenery
goes on beyond what your eyes reach
out in the distance she sees instances
fed to every leaf like faulty genes
past down to unsuspecting babe
who bears the weight
of roots that pull against
the branching out
to where we might flourish
outside the influence
of where they end
for where our own begins
to end
oh it’s so easy to see where you are
from where you see yourself but it’s so hard
to talk with the people in charge
some people are
faced with a climb for all their lives
on grounds the rest can tip toe by
but this sneak never fit our feet
the thoughts that keep
you in this family
are locks that you can pick
if you believe enough to know
what they’re there for
always these words
slip nicely through the cracks
of the widening generation gap
the bustling new residence
at this address
a house not fit to sell or keep
for through its age revealing
like a shrine our stylized legend
and singing
eulogies of the present tense
written for the deaths they telegraph
but only sense enough to doubt
time can figure it out
desicions that traditions crowd
to seem so new to us now
we were past on
from where we hardly know
our own direction
to tell from not
we have to sift through
so slow
does she knows does she knows
you are matriarch also
there she goes she lives high upon the hill
and as for me
that’s where my heart remains
i’m born today to take the reigns
of all succession looming at large
oh it’s so easy to see where you are
from where you see yourself but it’s still hard
to talk to the people in charge[/peekaboo_content]
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