5 29 2015 - Chapter 11 - Driven

5
29
2015

Chapter 11

Driven

out the Whole Foods…
a character…
fired!

“ ‘oly smoke. ”

-onlooker

he said it
upon getting hit wit a carrot
that blew out the bag blondyn was holding on the run.

“kid jus’ rip that stash?”

-passerby

she said it
upon seeing the way
blondyn juked
the pedestrians, traffic, construction zone
before swinging the corner without trace.

“yip!”

-poodle

come now, poodle, thought blondyn.
ought know by now
city streets no place for fluff.
but there was plenty to go 'round,
anyhow.
that’s one reason the kid aimed his game
on running a razor fine line
to cut through it—
straight to it—
hauling heel to toe 'n hard
for the CopyDesk
where blondyn was scheduled to promptly set to work.

yep.
youth scoot like top-gun
on a crusade to save mankind
&
pressed for overtime,
but what was it all about?

well.
somewhere long the way,
blondyn saw Writing
like a fortune 500 figure
saw Enterprise,
which given certain considerations,
(financial,social,self-esteemical)
had whisked blondyn in peculiar situations
(financially,socially,self-esteemically)
some of which—
he’d finally decided—
made for copy
worthy of writing.

seeing as writing required the kid
to be in for the ride—
and since the story of his day by day
was the only story he could sincerely own/align—
blondyn finally had come to terms
with taking a feature role in the show.

o mama.

he promised the ego was Grade A Okay
+
Lean-Tame Certified.
just time to try something new.
that make it any less a crime?
in this day and age,
probs no.
but in Skyscraper Metropolis,
waking up entailed friction
somewhere 'long the line…
and freestyle rhymin’ could be such a chimin’ thing.
given that realism,
flash journalism—
social media novel—
narrative reflection/refraction
on the life + times.

but honestly why?
how come?
what’s it all about anyways?

above all things,
blondyn’s ultimate dream
be to awake each day
to that compelling future—
some way by which
to commit his essence
to a fraction of

The AEternal

via a sense of mission—
belonging—
a duty to confide in
via gravity to explore,
interact with,
and derive some depth of value to deliver
and potentially
set another free…

couldn’t find it between 9-5,
nor in the restaurants,
beauty salons,
or the other 'odd-jobs’ he’d worked
in those yonder past askance moments of the hustle

all the while
he’d been chasing after
that purpose
to lasso the whole life + love of him
and pivot upon his routine existence.
daily bread to extend beyond.
to think it dawned upon him in sleep
that high-speed literature
was the place he had to be—
it was the whole reason
that blondyn was wheeling to the CopyDesk
like a gazelle with a cheetah hot on his prance.

skrrrt!!!

rrrt!!

rrt!

rt.

-Red Wing Boots, upon slamming brakes on street

he stepped out the smoke,
black tar, clinging on his step,
as he approached the building.

“well look at that,” he said. “Gotham West Market.”

yep.
the CopyDesk.
yep.
time to get to work.
yep.

blondyn

CC
2015
www.blondyn.com

5
28
2015

Chapter 10

Star Light, Star Bright

We feel that we have a responsibility to…
shine the light…
into the darkness

- Blackstar

if only one could fathom on fashioning it to Writing…

…Chapter 9 thought echoed all the way into Chapter 10…
til suddenly—
voice dawned upon him.

“blondyn—” said Vasudeva, “Come here, help us with this.”

blondyn used to work @ Whole Foods Market.
still bought his apple-carrot combo
near every single day

(holy ritual)

“Hold the ladder please while I change this bulb.”

blondyn obeyed,
inwardly
hyper-extending.

“how does this fit to the world of writing?”

again,
he noted the speed of the Supply X Demand Exchange all around him—
NYC Consumers & Producers X HQ Whole Foods Market Interface.

“speed’s one thing,” he said, “but HQness on the fly?”

he got shy.

“how in the world of writing can you flip any tidbit of HQ Realtime Propensity unless it stripped of your very step?”

he got on with it.

“torn of your mojo—rugged as the struggle—bare as your daring do and dedicated reason for which you breath-ride-be?”

he sighed.

Vasudeva removed the burnt out flash,
dropped it in the trash,
grabbed a frash bulb from the produce line.

blondyn got on with it.

“abounding presence of the social media medium be a caliber fit for streaming a day in the life … a true life story … but golly, honestly, who’d care to hear?”

Vasudeva turned stern suddenly.

“You’re in New York City…” he said, “Could you reflect on the times?”

“true.”

“You have a peculiar mode of lifestyle…” he added, “Would you relay insightful perspective?”

“potentially.”

“You have a fascinating story,” he concluded, “Should you touch it with a hint of classic?”

“wait a second V, when did ii ever share you on my story?” he asked, “and in terms of classic, and it ‘nough these days to jus’ be cute 'n motley?”

Vasudeva continued turning the bulb.

“a poetry journalism flash epic delivered daily may honestly be over the top, even for me…” said blondyn, “and yet, could make for a spine—a parallel backbone for a future novel via journalism on the fly—the story—the narrative—the crusade you’ve been ever after all the while…”

never 'fore seen
waves of light
dawning inside realizatory capillaries.

part of him knew it was all nonsense.
possibly yet another transitory fleeting.
but it was endearing him w/ fabulous passing
and he chose to hold onto it as usual with his sacred majestic precious sense of urgency.

and like that, Vasudeva’s light went on.

“There it is.”

checking on blondyn’s firm hold, he climbed down the three steps, one by one
as the young one
kept assessing on
the Train of Thought Experience he was dedicating himself to deliver.

“Here you go.”

Vasudeva handed blondyn the 5 lb bag of carrots he routinely purchased.

“o mama…” he said as accepting, “why not?”

blondyn grabbed up an apple, too, and got on with singing—

“a lot of stars is trekking—
ain’t nothing final about the frontier
Train of Thought came to take you there, yeah
Train of Thought came to take you there, yeah
the Train of Thought came…”

CC
2015
blondyn

5 22 2015 - enlightyn

look babe.

something magical happened.

ahuh.

came of your smile.

no, honest.

affect of your sparkle.

stop it.

no you stop it.

okay fine.

will take this time

t tell you in

on how you saved

my life by large.

no, honest.

you did.

and with one word—

e n l i g h t y n

ahuh.

what about it?

can’t say.

not that ii don’ wanna.

just can’t quite figure on how one oughta.

poetry babe.

go figure.

certain our love sparked it.

positive.

happened in the darkness.

yesterday was hard.

you know how somedays written in sorrow?

tragedy was yesterday.

yeah mama.

then came dawn.

all started the night before.

nightmare had slipped inside me.

scenes

of

complete loss—

utter destitution—

crazy absolute darkness

within & without me.

didn’t want to live no more.

was sinking in sappy abyss,

drowning inside out,

was just about gone

when through all the psychological dissonance,

universal ripple of your voice

cut through the mire

to reach me

via

the one word

that you, babe—

that you

had spoken—

e n l i g h t y n

your word, mama.

suddenly

midst the thick of the darkness,

was seeing stars in the shape of your portrait

right like that,

underworld disappeared

opened my eyes

to a new day upon me,

rays of sunshine

in my eyes,

quite unlike

any i’d ever seen before.

didn’t understand right away,

and well past noon up til early evening—

the whole of yesterday—

was confused as questioning

every oz. of my self-esteem—

my reason for existence—

my purpose & core belief

in driving forth

w/ aeternal fortitude

in order to overcome struggle monumental.

and then,

well beyond the sun had set, babe,

you and I met

by the starlight over central park

and upon catching that outline of your face,

your word, babe—

e n l i g h t y n

flashed through me.

did ii show it?

cause it hit like lightning.

sight of you, babe,

well.

struck me with soul power

time spent with you

ignited a power hour

of self-realization + inner discovery.

“ ‘nough being bunt cake,” ii decided.

high-time to jumpstart metamorphosis of reinvention 101—

a hyper-animated self : environment state of engagement.

absorb like everlasting & render high quality life daily.

must open UP—

become more transparent—

a model of positive motion all along the rise

via creation of supernatural value

til my mind : heart : spirit ratio

brilliant as your starshine,

l*ve,

that saved me from the start.

remember always, babe—

before you set forth your Way,

every moment

by every thought

that you have throughout your day

comprises every opportunity

we will ever have here on Earth.

for our time here today,

whether together or apart,

let’s agree to create symphony between us—

a revolution Magum Opus,

to resound from this generation

to those beyond

via

majestic celebration

of

life + love.

*

*

*

blondyn

CC

2015