A Guide 4 Those New 2 The Psychodelicide

it’s been roughly 3 years since I’ve started this blog. it’s rather hard to believe. what started of as just a place to post whatever i wanted has grown into….me posting whatever i want.

okay, so that aspect hasn’t changed. but through the years, and over 200 posts later, i’ve written many different kinds of stories with a wide variety of different styles & genres that tackle many different topics.

as the Year Of Our Lord twothousandeighteen (a year that barely even sounds real), I’ve been taking a look back at past posts, some I’ve amazingly forgotten about until I saw them. So that’s it.
If you are a new follower/visitor to this site, here a couple of my favorites to give you an idea of what’s been going on here the past few years & what you may expect to see in the future.
And if you aren’t new, please join me in this trip down memory lane.

Again, this is only a small collection. If I were to post all of my “favs”, this list would go one forever. But these are all good starting points, older posts. The recommendations can lead to more posts and I encourage you to check out some the newer posts too!

While we’re at it, this would be a good time to mention my Soundcloud. (also a link on my WP page under “Purple BeBop”. There are quite a few original tracks on there already but I’m in the works of creating more in-depth works of art, including EPs and eventually a full album. So stay tuned!

Thanks for reading and I hope you will continue to follow me during my artistic journey!

Feedback (especially comments) are always appreciated.

Peace & B Wild,

The Author

 

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Swinging Ditty from a Misunderstood

[Author’s note: best if song is played when shown]


an Irish’d-coffee to warm the belly on an overcast morning. no plans for the day. a kind of day where casual walks takes me to wherever my feet decide, without a care in the world. While absentmindedly staring at my phone, a peculiar sound caught my ear.

[snap    snap    snap    snap    snap]

there he was. standing under a small pine tree on top of a hill.

a teen boy in skinny jeans and a tshirt 3 sizes too big, singing out in a booming baritone with a growling edge, snapping fingers keeping a steady groove…

taking another sip, I listened to what he had to say:

I’m Mr. Big Mouth
At least, that’s what the legend states
Oh, Mr. Big Mouth
Nothin’ ever ever goes my way

As far back as third grade
teachers always would say
“Boy, ya ain’t nothin’ but trouble,
keep runnin’ ya mouth ya gonna get a muzzle!”

Not stopping to think maybe, just maybe
I was just a wee bit afraid

Not stopping to question, “Hey
maybe this kid knows a lil something about just how fucked up life is!
maybe we should [perhaps] do more than grill him [oh gosh maybe!]
about why he didn’t bother [who even cares?]
to finish his pop quiz!”

But noooooo, they called me Big Mouth
too smart for my own good
and the legend grew
throughout my childhood

I’m Mr. Big Mouth
just tryna make my way
Oh, Mr. Big Mouth
clashin’ with the birds of prey…..

i couldn’t help but notice that behind him was a high school in session & it was 10:30am on a weekday.
i walked over to him, so transfixed, i didn’t even question where the horns were coming from.

a general life rule of mine: if a street musician makes you stop and listen for a moment, you owe them a dollar.
i gave him $100.

THank y-you SO M-m-much,” his voice squeaked out, a puberty-wrecked contrast to the rumbling resonance of his song. He stuffed the bills in a pocket of a tattered bookbag that lay by his feet, overflowing with crumpled school papers. He flashed me a bright blended smile that revealed naivety with an undercoat of Sly.

i tipped my coffee to him with a grin and continued on my way. i heard a rhythmic snapping begin again as he faded away with distance.

I’m Mr. Big Mouth…





instrumental song credit: All Bets Are Off [Cuphead Soundtrack]

When The Music Stops

when the music stops…
last note from the last song fades into the background
the album’s spin is through…

that’s when you hear the sound
of an echo turning blue

then you feel the freeze
colder than the arctic

silence

a lead-footed frost nips at your ears
’cause there’s no sound
to muffle the splashing of your tears

Josephine II

under a pale streetlight

not getting any older
frayed strap around my shoulders

strumming a jig to no one in particular

the beatniks and the part-time rejects come to stay
to watch the wonder on display
of a wild jester at play

grooving to a funky tune

notes whisper sweet as crème brûlée

words are seldom heard

lost in the sound typhoon

whisper: Soon…soon…

butterflies in hearts flapping fast & swooned

under a pale streetlight

no streetlight in particular

Source: Josephine II

Boasts From A ‘Never-Was’

“I’ll tell you again
I don’t follow trends
They just follow me
Flattery can go from moral lucidity
to a drag, intellectual flaccidity
It may take some time but soon you’ll see
Something this good shouldn’t come for free

Invisible I am because no one can handle
Flair crackling like a roman candle
To be overlooked would be a scandal
Continuing to panhandle
for recognition would be like a sandal
lost in the Red Sea
after a flash of magic
parting into 2, a mystic ramble
If that what it takes for y’all to see
I’ll change the name to protect the guilty
But there will never be another like Me.”

“I’ll tell you again
I don’t follow trends
They just follow me
Flattery can go from moral lucidity
to a drag, intellectual flaccidity
It may take some time but soon you’ll see
Something this good shouldn’t come for free

Invisible I am because no one can handle
Flair crackling like a roman candle
To be overlooked would be a scandal
Continuing to panhandle
for recognition would be like a sandal
lost in the Red Sea
after a flash of magic
parting into 2, a mystic ramble
If that what it takes for y’all to see
I’ll change the name to protect the guilty
But there will never be another like Me.”

Source: Boasts From A ‘Never-Was’