What Goes Around Comes Around – Poetry

For the chapter and music with the same title for my hocking Book Inside The Forbidden Outside. One of the themes that is stressed throughout the book is the law of cause and effect. Where we are at any moment is the effect of the causes we put in motion

What Goes Around Comes Around.

What goes around comes around
Outside looking in
Not understanding what we’ve done
When new effects begin

What goes around comes around
Inside looking out
Not understanding it’s already done
We can’t change what life’s about

Hands on a clock telling time
Counting minutes into years
The music playing in my head
Turns fears into falling tears

The universe lit up with stars
Spinning around the sun
To let us know as it slowly turns
A new day has begun

What goes around comes around
It’s written, carved in stone
We bear the fruit of who we are
From all things that we’ve done

Dance With The Devil, Dance

Source: pxleyes.com

DANCE WITH THE DEVIL, DANCE DANCE

Lurking in back of my eyes
Tasting the smells, seeing the ghosts
No matter how often I tried
Which memories shame me the most
It reminds me of where I’ve been
And how many miles I’ve gone
I tied it up in a garbage bag
And kept on walking alone

Too late, it caught up beside me
And said hi, where have you been?
Its time to pay the price dear
You can’t run away from sin
You made a cause, the effect is now
There’s no choice, you can’t get away
You chose to play, it’s time to pay
It’s your end game, take a bow

It’s the game of games, winner takes all
You can’t run away, you’ll stumble and fall
If you lose there is no second chance
Dance with devil, dance dance

There is no way to get around it
Finish the hand life dealt
No matter the depth of pain it caused
No matter the fear you felt
It’s time for you to pay the price
There’s no choice, you can’t change the rules
You’re rolling the dice for your life
You can’t play me like I’m the fool

Years have passed, would you do it again
Knowing who you’ve become
Knowing how the game ends
When you thought you were having fun
Was it worth the price you had to pay
Would you do it different today
Looking in the mirror
Seeing scars that never fade

It’s the game of games, winner takes all
You can’t run away, you’ll stumble and fall
If you lose there is no second chance
Dance with the devil, dance dance
Dance with the devil, dance dance

Sonni Quick © 2019

(This is lyrics for new music)

Can Anybody Hear Me?

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CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME?

Can anybody hear me?
Is anybody there?
Can anybody tell me
How I’m supposed to bear
The never ending silence
of no one in my head
Yet chaos on the outside
makes me scream instead

Who am I to talk to?
Who can understand?
The pain of never knowing
The thoughts of another man
I wait beside my cell door
For mail to call my name
And hope I’m not forgotten
I’m lonely just the same

Did anybody listen?
To the cries they heard inside
Did anybody wonder?
If my hope for life had died
Did anybody hear me?
Did you wait outside my door?
Or did you leave and walk away
You’re not waiting anymore

by Sonni Quick. ©2018

http://sonniquick.net

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Skunk Radio Live

 

Marginalized Into Nothingness

light from sky

Marginalized into nothingness.

I’ll say ‘people are being enslaved
and no one seems to care or even see them.
More concerned with climate change
than your enslaved neighbor’s freedom.’
They’ll say can’t we do both in concordance?
Both are equally important.
 
Then on another day,
I’ll say ‘children are being subject
to a school to prison pipeline
and a lot of your lifetime
retirement wages
depend on how many of our babies
end up in cages.
That should be foremost in your mind.
But you’re caught up in the fallacy
of black on black crime.
Then someone will say
‘Hey, these heartless criminals
will kill someone’s mother.
I can be concerned about one
without ignoring the other.’
 
So, a while later in another statement,
I’ll mention week after week
slave catchers are hunting us
like wild game in the street.
But instead and as part of the criteria,
your head is stuck
on chemical attacks in Syria.
Then true to form
as is the new norm
someone will mention
both of these issues deserve our attention.
 
As the problem becomes diluted
in an Occupy potpourri goo,
smothered and covered
in a long list of things to one day do,
I’ll scream out “what is an effort
to gain economic freedom worth
when this nation has the largest prison population
ever seen on planet earth?
Then like a bad case of crabs (pardon me being crass)
some ass will attach what they think is a unique opinion
and say ‘what good is freedom
if we’re still poor and broke?
That’s not winning. We need to do both.’
 
So I grumble and mumble and swear a few oaths
about twisted priorities.
Then point out in every state in the union
incarceration is mainly aimed at the poor and minorities.
While you are defending the character
of pink unicorns and alleged good cops
there are communities being served
with so many warrants and arrests
they are called million dollar blocks
And of course the meanness of marginalization doesn’t ever cease.
Someone will tell me in all sincerity
to start raising our kids better and not blame the police.
 
I say, they say, in a never-ending dance.
Always adding another
“well that other
thing is important we should give it a chance.”
 
By the time I’m done
there are 10,000 issues being heaped on our plate
when there should only be one.
Marginalized into nothingness ©Max Parthas 6/17 Maximumimpactpoetry.com

Dreaming For Tomorrow

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DREAMING FOR TOMORROW

Where are you going?

I see you walking in the distance

In the open air, no walls around you

What are you thinking?

You move your feet in a tiny dance

A smile appears. There is no one to stop you

Stretch your arms, there is nothing to feel

but the wind through your fingers

and the sun on your skin

It’s been a long time since life felt so real

Where are you running?

so fast and so free 

You fall to the ground and look to sky

Watch the birds and the clouds moving lazily

You understand now what it feels like to fly

The piano music is titled “Inside The Forbidden Outsidecopyright 2015 by Sonni Quick.

If you want to hear any of the other music go to http://soundcloud.com/sonni-quick. As with anything online, stats are important. Share, like or leave a comment for others to see. It would be a benefit for me. When my arm heals I’m coming out of retirement from music 14 years ago and play again.

For those not familiar with my music, it is all improvised. If there is an error it becomes part of the piece. I can’t play it again the same exact way. I recorded this as I was writing Jamie’s book. As my damaged arm becomes functional I can continue recording and editing the book.

When I woke this morning I had a vision of Jamie in the distance and these words came to mind. I thought how  it must be to never be able to stretch out your arms and not touch something. His world is so small. No ability to run with abandon. We crave what we can’t have

Sometimes I Cry by 2Pac Shakur

2pac

Sometimes I Cry

Sometimes when I’m alone
I cry because I’m on my own
The tears I cry R bitter and warm
They flow with life but take no form
I cry because my heart is torn
and I find it difficult to carry on
If I had an ear 2 confide in
I would cry among my treasured friend
But who do you know that stops that long
to help another carry on
The world moves fast and it would rather pass u by
than 2 stop and c what makes u cry
It’s painful and sad and sometimes I cry
and no one cares about why.

–2Pac

One of the biggest things that are different between the music of the 70’s and the music of today is that most of the artists today don’t write about the things important to their lives. The music in the 70’s told stories.  They were autobiographical.  Then along came electronic music and artists didn’t even have to learn how to play an instrument.  They had no right to call themselves a musician.

Unfortunately, there are but a few people who write almost all of songs the major pop artists perform.  They don’t write their own songs.  What they sing has nothing to do with their lives.  Their music is put together with a formula proven to sell.  There is no heart.  It won’t make you feel anything.  It is just a business and if those artists want to make albums they sing what they are told to sing.  Because those people who put their music together like a jigsaw puzzle are only interested in the money THEY will make.  If the singer doesn’t want to sing it they will find someone else.

But then I read  this – Sometimes I cry – and also the work of two previous posts by Phora and this makes me understand what is inside these two artists.  I have never been interested in rap – ever.  I find the rhythm monotonous and mush of the lyrics are angry and disrespectful, especially to women.  But I realize now that I was lumping all the music of all the rap artists into one big ball and discounted everything they were trying to say without even listening to it.  I think most people of a previous generation do that to every youth generation they are not part of.

What I read in these few short writings is the pain that comes with fame.  I think it also comes with everyone who has too much money.  Are they only attracted to your fame? Who are your friends?  Would they be there if you didn’t have money to throw at them?  Sadly, probably not.  It is a lonely place to be.

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Soon I will have a button that will take you to the newsletter sign up, but until then I am using this one from WordPress.  The newsletter name is being shortened to ITFO Newsletter, much easier to write.  The one will be out in about two weeks. I will have progress about the book which is about 4 chapters shy of being written and the first chapters are off to a content editor already to see if it is any good. It will also have other pointss of interest not being written about on the blog so it isn’t just a repeat of what I’ve already written.

You can use the form below to sign up, or you can send your email address to my new address at squick@mynameisjamie.net.  When my book on Jamie’s life is done,  Inside The Forbidden Outside,the e-book version will be offered for free for the first ten days, and all I ask of you is to write a review. Reviews help sell books, and lack of reviews means it is often skipped over.  If I already have your email address just write and tell me you’d like to do a review and I will contact you when it is ready.

Phora -Hope Lyrics -Powerful

The post before this one was also by Phora. I listened to quite a few songs he has recorded. His music cuts like a knife. Young people live in a world that my generation didn’t experience. Sure, every generation has had different issues to deal with, but we (the baby boomers) weren’t handed a world with little hope, dangerous food to eat where corporations like Monsanto had the right to destroy our food by putting chemicals in our food and tell us we were too stupid and confused to read a label, and corporations like Nestles who says people don’t have a right to water, and during a drought they have the right to steal it and sell it back to us for profit – and get away with it. All of these things create a world where lyrics like this are needed. Wake the fuck up.

images

We didn’t used to live in a world where we thought we needed a gun to protect ourselves from our neighbors in the grocery Store, until the NRA said we needed to. We also didn’t need to live in poverty unless we chose to live that way. Today, unless you are born into a family with enough wealth to assure you an educated life that didn’t take the rest of your life to pay off, the only hope you had was love, which is followed by extreme hardship to have a life together that you want to keep on living.

Today, if you are black, the chances of being born into a world of possible education and today’s version of middle class – yesterday’s version of poor – living week to week – is slim. Music, sports and prison are the basic options. Since prison takes 1/3 of black men, that statement is very real. What are the other options except being poor.

Phora’s music makes me feel such sadness. There is such pain. It makes me want to put his head on my shoulder and lie to him like mothers do and tell him everything will be okay. He learned money does not buy happiness. He knows there is such a thing called happiness but it has eluded him. No one taught him what it was and how to get it. From his lyrics it seems he thinks that it is something outside himself that will bring him happiness – in this case, the love of a woman. But that love doesn’t last when you think it is two halves that make a whole. If another person completes you, eventually the cookie crumbles from stress.

Probably because of my generation, the baby boomers, my favorite music is from the 70’s and early 80’s. Rap was born when my children entered their teens in the 90’s, along with size 42 pants. It was too violent and crude. There wasn’t much music being played by musicians who spent years honing their craft. It was music meant to shock and offend. Over those years it has gradually changed. When you play this Youtube video take the time to listen to more of his music.

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Can Anybody Hear Me?

I  originally posted this on my other blog, Watch and Whirl. It is about much more than you can see here.  Some people have to live in an unwelcoming society. That behavior often brings unintended consequences.  Please – follow the link and then pass it on)

CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME?   by Sonni Quick   copyright 2016 You can add comments about the music under the wave form. You can see the comment I left to show you where. Written in support of all trans pe…

Source: Can Anybody Hear Me?

Invisible Mailman by Jamie Cummings

mail in prison, prison mail

INVISIBLE MAILMAN

by Jamie Cummings    copyright 2016

 

The strangest thing happened today

an invisible mailman passed my way

He handed me an envelope that wasn’t really there

An invisible mailman you know is quite rare

I opened the envelope which was very wide

and I found less than nothing inside

The writing was faint as I recall

In fact, there wasn’t any writing at all

The writing was neat and so very clear

So crystal clear it couldn’t be seen anywhere

I searched for words I thought would be there

but all I found was invisible air

So I’m writing you back with love, you bet

Saying thanks for the letters I never get

After reading this, do you think you’ll think twice?

Pay attention to this bit of advice

I had needed to hear sweat words from you

but the letters never, ever, came through

Don’t get me wrong, you still have my love

It’s very real and comes from within

I’m locked up but only for now

I’m still waiting waiting waiting like it matters somehow

I wait to hear from those who say they love me

Instead I receive a letter so crystal clear I can’t see

This mailman brought invisible letters

missing the words, the feeling and thoughts

It hurts to this day what the invisible man brought

He brought me nothing

My life was still I lost.

Jamie sent me this poem. It is his first one that I know of.  He told me awhile back he was writing a poem.  He is writing to those people who didn’t care enough to pick up a pen and write back to him.  Sadly, I don’t think they know what they are missing because they don’t know the man he has become.  He has taught me a lot about many things. Two of them are patience and perseverance.  I was overwhelmed when I read this, so I set it to music. It is at the top of the list at soundcloud by the same title as the poem and you can listen as you read. Enjoy. Please, leave a reply and tell him what you think.  I send replies to him.  You can also hear other piano recordings and you can listen as you read. Enjoy. http://soundcloud.com/sonni-quick

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Good Wouldn’t Exist Without Bad

. . . I have written about Alonza before. I don’t want him to disappear. The abuse he suffered in prison should have never happened. The justice system used him as a poster boy. Google him and hear his story on Nightline.

http://facebook.com/jamielifeinprison . . .Blog posts and news about injustice in the world
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Sonni’s Piano Music

Sonni Quick

Alonza Thomas

Alonza Thomas

It was a stormy winter night on the streets of New Orleans

A fortune teller told me that she could see me in her dreams

She said, there’s a part of me that evil overtook

Plus the devil has my heart, and my name is in his book.

I cried, i cried.

I’m a mixed drink, combined with good and bad.

The image I’ve portrayed became my truth, I chose my path.

I look myself in the mirror and i wish that I would die. Then I heard the Lord whisper, he said, believe that your mine. Believe that your mine!

My mind beats my heart, my emotions are second nature.

The result of realizing my mind was never basic.

My heart tells lies. My heart is self destructive.

I do right for the good, and well being of the structure.

Trust is not the issue, really it…

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