RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Wednesday, October 8

Shakespeare Greenheart sample

Some of you may or may not know I've been in the middle of a project where I "write" freestyle sonnets, off the top of the head, woven into heroic crowns. They got rhyme scheme like Shakespeare but syllable count like Alexandrine. This is one of them.
Enamel earth-toned security cinderblock
perimeter holds infinite circumference
of existential potential, first born soft rock
head hardened by chance, by luck stuck behind this fence
or that wall, each and all of us seeing the same
sunshine skyline but trapped within our life’s details,
bigger picture baked into background behind name,
behind history, both true earned and false impaled
upon unsuspecting beings birthed upon earth
surface to nervously scratch out salt-wounded lives,
we’re all striving for comfort, for a sense of worth,
sense of self, knowledge of self through bright heights and dives
into darkness, but people’s people, born a hunk
of universal energy, feeling that funk. 
Of universal energy, feeling that funk,
I speak feeling somewhat fake, taking stand in front
of attentive eyes, open ears, where I am punk
ass bitch in my own head, trying to keep it blunt
objectively, beating myself with strong failure
demons dwelling inside; still, I smile and deep breath,
try to loosen them bammas up, search and seizure
of ill negativity ‘til little is left,
enough I can quiet – maybe conquer – in time,
in incremental mental steps taken inside
my own world before emitted as free-born rhyme,
formed and fermented with intention but no pride
because humility is a feudal lesson
learned through osmosis, forced internal impression. 
Learned through osmosis, forced internal impression
of external influences smashed through eyeballs
beaming as baby but fogged out from deception
over time, slow steaming, speed streaming cyber walls
until organic thought’s disrupted with dammed buzz
what which fuzzes the edges of pure grey matter
until black-and-white psychology’s all there was,
at least as you see it since real truth caught scatter
through advertising prisms, panopticon schemes
building pyramid scams on fault line foundations,
painting nightmare existence as red-white-blue dreams
lacking proper bootstrap grasping – shine caucasians
trashing rest of us, stuffed into history’s trunk,
speeding recklessly towards edge like bitch ass punk. 
Speeding recklessly towards edge like bitch ass punk,
chasing compromised dreams shineface pimps done planted
with political smiles – political thoughts thunk
by political classes with upper-handed
grasps at ladders far above my birthright levels,
natural born prisoner class, steady struggling
daily to dance around rules made by these devils
pulling all the levers while both my hands juggling
a hundred broke parts in one thousand directions,
saying I lack drive with my single manpower
while harnessing labor through social conventions,
turning out mental prostitutes born to cower
in dark thought streams due to organized deception,
trying to right myself through written confession. 
Trying to right myself through written confession,
chasing rambling muses that rumble like coal train
through my wide open mind, mothering invention
of tales necessary to escape life so plain
as to pain the soul where spirit’s still desiring
planes higher than physical me ever could reach,
trapped inside existence with synapses firing
magic creative sparks impossible to teach
other than being open to universe’s
flow – unexplainable by science’s process
of order and repetition plus proud curses
against anyone’s faith in believing what’s best
comes to pass without forcing my ways until dead,
embracing the chaos storming throughout my head. 
Embracing the chaos storming throughout my head,
replacing the false safety of benevolent
mystery gods demanding worship of what’s said
in texts’ frozen prophecy, yet irrelevant
to my post-modern breathing; fluid existence
mostly adjusting on the fly as hourglass sands
slip the fuck away quickly despite resistance,
time keeps on dripping between my grasping ass hands
clasped into prayer ritual, more symbolic
than authentic sign of actual faith in things
unseen, unfelt, unknown as I roam and frolic
through my sensory delusions, which always brings
wild-eyed notions of life lived in ways like wildfire,
striving for quality, not quantified desire. 
Striving for quality, not quantified desire,
trying to survive endless sensory onslaught
of advertising brainwash as devils conspire
to consume your raw mind with identities sought
to be purchased with credit maxed out overhead,
far higher than could be paid off in one lifetime,
indebted genetics born deep into the red,
black marks by government name, scarred deep with sublime
precisions, decisions made with little input
by recipient except as necessary
for tacit endorsement of ass receiving foot
from birth, being beaten until cemetery
spots are readied to rest in peace your weary head,
born chasing numbers ‘til that six feet under bed. 
Born chasing numbers ‘til that six feet under bed;
born chasing scriptures ‘til that promised paradise;
born reaching out, ignoring what’s inside the head;
born chasing head well-learned instead of heart real nice;
born using words to bitch, moan, compromise, complain;
born deciphering madness, pretending it ain’t;
born to self-medicate, to masquerade the pain;
born worshipping fallen angels, calling them saint;
born dead, born lost, born bossed, told what to do and when;
born to never question, to accept lessons told;
born domesticated, living inside a pen;
born chasing carrots instead of the stick to hold;
born following distractions until I retire;
try to focus beyond what’s at hand – to aspire. 
Try to focus beyond what’s at hand – to aspire
beyond my external senses’ fences around
real truth – deep universal truth burning like fire,
natural animal yearning to reach new ground
unscratched and salted by poison souls before us,
pointing out the easy paths lacking supreme math,
they built with a crooked square, using damaged truss
and warped pine distorted by warped minds – it’s their wrath
inflicted upon the rest from their oak tree perch
plantation atop the pyramid, all-seeing
eyeball rounding up each direction, while we search
for underground connections, raw humans being
what we are – brothers, sisters, digging at new homes,
conspire with others to build networks like rhizomes. 
Conspire with others to build networks like rhizomes,
bloodstreams like rivers, trading the knowledge we’ve done,
healing depleted livers born from broken homes,
fractured minds slowly pieced back together as one,
meditating hard upon the senseless, trying
to find concentrated truth with which to reclaim
lost half-lives, whole lives spent in avoiding dying,
clutched into protective internal ball, with shame
and pain in abundance, shoulders heavy with stress
carried from before we were even conscious, fight
or flight anxiety, physical escape less
likely than break down, so seek like temples of right
minds, just hearts, to trust and build and sort through your past,
spreading like spiritual crabgrass to outlast. 
Spreading like spiritual crabgrass to outlast
glyphosate plots, to line us straight into low life
crooked existence pre-natal, folks fatal past
up family trees, pruned by the law’s well-honed knife
down to troubled shrub of nothing, shrugging shoulders
search for drink or drugs to self-medicate away
the painful moments alone; but yo – these molders
of folks’ behavior only hold the alpha day,
omega’s still rising, first three, then nine, growing
wherever each one reaches then teaches one-plus,
internal god we trust, thrust fire fists up, showing
our unified blossoms of resistance, no fuss,
just refuse, one re-psyched people wirelessly roams
social engineering, putting fear in hearts/homes. 
Social engineering, putting fear in hearts/homes,
steering clear of heart desires, chasing trick treasures
of the flesh, sensory pleasures, idled mind roams
through devilish courtyards, mass media measures
empty spaces inside to be filled with messes
of nutritionless nothings, endless mental snacks
of celebrity facts, who fucked who congresses
gathering to gossip it back, wheezing mind lacks
deep breaths of fresh thinking, re-evaluation
of what circumstances forced upon us crudely,
re-examine what’s us real and what’s invasion
of outside poisons injected rather shrewdly,
learning to reject it, to nurture thoughts that last,
re-imagining ourselves as forged from what’s passed. 
Re-imagining ourselves as forged from what’s passed,
born from essence written in cursive over hearts
in memorial ink, remembering outcast
black sheep we kept company with through fractured parts
of piecemeal lives, peacing god when meals fill bellies,
but mostly navigating beast’s belly, hungry,
feeling empty in twisted guts, poison berries
everywhere you look where lives lacking money
cluster and fuck themselves, by eating what’s at hand
in abundance – hopelessness and broken dreams lost
to crushing realities most can understand
on personal basis, faces that paid the cost
of being stuck behind secured walls, key and lock,
trying to touch green grass and blue sky while we rock. 
Trying to touch green grass and blue sky while we rock
life like last breaths, good days to die like Crazy Horse,
slitting the snakeman’s throat, escaping chopping block,
stopping not for forked tongue promises – lies, of course,
like always, shinefaces consistently stake claim
to whatever they deem has value, deciding
and deeding, writing and reading their own kind’s name
as most prominent, dominant force presiding
over the course of human history, teaching
English dreams and American scams to the young,
brung up to worship demon overlords, preaching
opiates and submission to ropes from which hung
all our people before, cheap resource human stock,
enamel earth-toned, security cinderblock. 
Heroic Crown #04
Of universal energy, feeling that funk
learned through osmosis, forced internal impression,
speeding recklessly towards edge like bitch ass punk,
trying to right myself through written confession,
embracing the chaos stomping throughout my head,
striving for quality, not quantified desire,
born chasing numbers ‘til that six feet under bed,
try to focus beyond what’s at hand – to aspire –
conspire with others to build networks like rhizomes,
spreading like spiritual crabgrass to outlast
social engineering putting fear in hearts/homes,
re-imagining ourselves as forged from what’s passed,
trying to touch green grass and blue sky while we rock
enamel earth-toned, security cinderblock.

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