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1. |
THUNDER
03:07
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THERE'S A LITTLE BLACK SPOT ON THE MOON
ALL THE LIGHTS ARE ON
EVERY ROOM
SO WE ASSUME
SOMEONE'S THERE
KNOWING NO ONE'S PERFECT
YET, NOTHING MATCHES THE WAY YOU STARE
IN THIS HYSTERIA
LIKE LAVA UPON ME
FROZEN IN TIME
ARRAYED MID KISS TO THIS HISS
WHERE THE CLAWS CIRCLE IN THE MISTS
I'M AFRAID THE THUNDER IS REMISS.
THERE'S A LITTLE RED FLAG
BLOOMING IN THE EYE OF THE STORM
IF YOU SQUINT HARD ENOUGH
I SWEAR YOU CAN WITNESS THE ANTICHRIST BEING REBORN
WITHOUT FORM
DEFYING TIME
YET I ASSURE YOU
EVERYTHING'S FINE
EVERYTHING'S PERFECT
NOTHING MATCHES THIS WAVE OF BLISS
CAN YOU FEEL IT
YOU'RE LAVA UPON ME
LAYER AFTER LAYER
FROZEN IN TIME
ARRAYED MID KISS TO THIS HISS
WHERE THE CLAWS CIRCLE IN THE MISTS
I'M AFRAID THE THUNDER'S REMISS...
#AXJ23
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2. |
WASTED
04:09
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Wasted.
It’s the dead people
Talking to me again
I’m left to wonder
How they even know my name
Poking in my sleep
With fingers of flame
I bolt right up
Staring at my wall
It’s 4 am again
I deeply ponder what they
Hope to explain
I push asunder the gravelly
Portents of pain.
They didn’t want to go
They all pile up and jeer
They seem to want me to know
They weren’t ready to leave here
It’s a wrinkle in time
Where the dead keep compiling
It’s a plague that riles them
All those names
All those faces
All these voices
Forgotten.
It’s the dead people
Shaking me awake
Upon my tears they find
Themselves unslaked
I’m not sure just how much
More of this I can take
My cat shys away from me
Brimming with hate
It’s all too much on this empath’s plate
The coals of wailing over
Which I’m raked
It’s 4 am
Once more
Wide awake
They didn’t want to go
They all pile up and jeer
They seem to want me to know
They weren’t ready to leave here
It’s a wrinkle in time
Where the dead keep compiling
It’s a plague that riles them
All those names
All those faces
All these voices
Forgotten.
#axj23
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3. |
MR. PRESIDENT
05:02
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Mr. President
Today I shot a whining pup
Right after I kicked a pregnant woman
In the gut
Right there on 5th Avenue
Rest assured the cameras swooped in
To take a look, slice a view
Because in my book
Nothing matters but me
Hooked on Twitter
Blaring out of your TV
They call me Mr. President
Full of pathos which won’t relent
In my view psychopathy is resident
The world falls silent as I churn up
The next spectacular event
I killed a Black man as I burned down a church
I sold secrets to democracy for a single cent
To whomever came calling at my white picket fence, to my porch .I swung a club at soldiers in combat helmets and left a perfect dent. I waged war on the poor, I kept those damn Mexicans with their kids behind a fence. I trod over human rights as my followers lurched towards the capitols with guns and a fury heaven sent.
They call me Mr. President
Full of pathos which won’t relent
In my view psychopathy is resident
The world falls silent as I churn up
The next spectacular event
Don’t you just love me
Don’t you ever lose me
They call me Mr. President
Abusing you daily
They call me Mr. President
Another 4 years maybe...
#axj23
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4. |
LISTENING
02:19
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5. |
MAY DAY
05:05
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May Day
There was nowhere left to run
From all the white guys waving Nazi flags
Parading around with their guns.
There was nowhere left to hide
From the screaming throng of idiots
Who refused to stay inside or abide.
They stormed the state buildings
They seized the courts
They coughed on each other
As the bodies piled up.
Freedom they cried at bonfires
The freedom to freely expire
While the shadows of Black Panthers
Turned over in their graves
Remembering their right to arms denied.
Feeedom from the government
They fight so hard to defy
A conundrum under defeated rebel flags
To rally loudly for the thugs
Who’ll just chalk up their deaths
To the sweet by and by.
It’s May Day
Ammonia rains down from the skies
It’s May Day
Living downriver from this pig farm
I feel so fevered and tired
It’s May Day
The skin on my lips is peeling
It’s May Day
We watch them dance in the forthcoming
Firebombs on display
Hooting and reeling
Shooting and killing.
It’s May Day
If you’re in the mood
It’s empires we’re stealing
It’s May Day
The poor get poorer
While crooks smoke Cuban cigars
In their back rooms double dealing.
It’s May Day
I suggest you lay down your life
For an illusory economy
Now crippled by strife
It’s May Day
You can hear the crowds cheer
Convinced by the president they’re right
It’s May Day
It’s endless night
So flee far, my dear
Flees from me in fear
The current delight
For don’t tread on me
Has become
Don’t let the sun set on you here
It’s May Day
Alright!!!
#axj23
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6. |
GIBBERISH
03:49
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Gibberish.
In the end
The fate of humanity
Will not be based on economies
GDP, China, Trump, Johnson, Putin or Kim
Nor religion based democracy
In the end
The lives we lead will be shadowed
By not so distant memories
Of a system doomed to failure
Brought to its knees
By a tiny super bug we could not taste
Touch nor see
In the end
The frightened followers of a failed man
Will lay down their weapons and concede
The lives they led grew from a blackened seed, once their children died off from the sheer ignorance they bred and believed.
The absence of grandchildren turns new leaves, The Ku Klux Klan couldn’t lynch this disease.
In the end
No one believed a new way of life
Where we could be free existed on the periphery of a bleak view,
Outside the strife of a world of blips and constant bad news, but it was true
I assure you
In the end
I survived to hug you
Because I believed in you
Because I needed you
Because in the end
I hoped my gibberish was true.
#axj23
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7. |
THE KING OF THE HOMELESS
04:40
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The King Of The Homeless.
Backside of my tent is on fire
From burning the insulation off copper wire
My throat is sore with an abscess gone green
I try to protest the cops insisting I’m moving
They tell me a room is available downtown
Where I can bathe and smoke in peace while
Eating salads and top round.
I don’t believe them, it couldn’t be true
What’s the king of the homeless to do?
I make more money scrapping buildings
Selling drugs and my SSI
If I disappear for fear of a virus
Who’ll keep up the supply?
My pit bull is choking on the fumes
Of the stolen generator chained up in the tent
That served as our living room
I’ll cash in this copper pretty soon
Wait three days and receive my boon
I tell the cops where to put their fancy room
They shake their heads
Assuring me they’ll be back soon
Put out that wire on fire they boom
Over the loudspeaker of the car which looms
They don’t even get out anymore
None of us out here have masks or gloves
My neighbor walks a filched electric bike by
Drooling for the minute they drive away
So she can get her issue for today and fly.
I have a hundred pounds of copper
I have an ounce on front to deliver
All over the tent city
With loads of offers of carnal services
Car smash laptops and spy drone helicopters.
My voice is going, sad but true
What’s the king of the homeless to do?
You don’t see me
But I see you
Every day driving by
Without a clue.
What’s the king of the homeless to do?
#axj23
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8. |
THE VIRUS
06:15
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The Virus.
It’s a fine day
For the very fine persons
To go shooting down niggers
To teach them a lesson
We fly confederate flags
We carry our guns downtown
We shout and spit at policemen
On a high from which we’ll never come down
If we see those we despise
We just say we were making citizens arrests
As we shoot them
No one bats an eye
No one protests
The virus is thriving
The virus is well
The virus is a green light
For nostalgia to sound the slavery bell knell
We swing a swastika flag
We won’t wear masks
We demand the nation return to the past
While the deaths keeps ramping
Along with the doubts we cast
We shoot a security guard presently
We run down a jogger
We shout in the streets
For God, Guns and Country
We don’t care for your kind
So the bullets keep flying
Until we get back to a time
When glory is a noontime lynching
To us, that’s just fine
I must remind
The virus is healthy
In God we trust
The virus is thriving
Boy you better
Get on the back of the bus
The virus is our Jesus
The birth of a nation
From the blood flowing out
A black mans mouth
Nothing more would please us
Impunity in unity
For a not so lost cause
When the president praises us
We’ll shoot without pause
A free for all
A very fine day
To go hunting down
Blacks, Browns and Jews
With the law on our side
What the hell can they say or do?
I assure you
The virus is healthy
The virus is well
The virus burns a cross
To usher in the slavery bells knell.
#axj23
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9. |
EDD
06:31
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10. |
HEART OF (2020)
04:02
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11. |
TREK (2020)
03:07
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12. |
SHEEPDOG
03:26
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Sheepdog
All the times
Surely you’ll recall
How you tried to put ribbons
In the hair of your deaf sheepdog
All the days
I’m sure you’ll find a way
To explain away the price you paid
To see that glowing translucent tile
Which we in your bright mausoleum laid
All the minutes
You crept round the back
Of the satanic church just to make sure
Your daughter wasn’t in it
Confirm the fact that
All that glory
Ran up a barbed wire pole
To right side up
Make the flag which you knew
One day would burn
You lost control
You never learn
You never see
How much you forget
When comfort flees
You never learn
As the town square burns
How much you cried
When the screws finally turned.
#axj23
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13. |
PIECES OF YOU 1
03:50
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Pieces of you. Part 1
Blustering
Calamity kitten
Coaxes curt chaos
Rife with raucous rancor
Resolves to run out of room
To hide
Dressed Red Sage
In faux leather
And breaks
The bible belt
Across her backside
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14. |
PIECES OF YOU 2
03:21
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Pieces of you. Part 2.
That song you know
They did in the streets
The chief of the Cherokee
Lies madly at her feet.
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15. |
PIECES OF YOU 3
04:46
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Pieces of you. Part 3.
Baker baker
Make me a lover
Of cake so fit
You could
If so inclined
Bounce a quarter off it.
#blaxpoetix.
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ANTHONY XAVIER JACKSON California
I am a spoken word artist whose passion is music. I use a variety of media to render my works,
including traditional instrumentation such as guitar, bass and drums. I also employ synths and all the tools of my DAW to make improv pieces to back my poetry.
LPD, Burroughs, Tear Garden, Watts Prophets, Last Poets, Radiohead… so many influences.
Enjoy.
... more
ANTHONY XAVIER JACKSON recommends:
THIS IS MUSIC BY MY BIOLOGICAL SON, JOSH, WHO IS AS EXCELLENT A BASSIST AND GUITAR PLAYER AS THEY COME.
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