Saturday, November 26, 2011

Without Music Life Would B♭

Open your ears to the sounds. Feel the vibration tingling your senses.
Listen to the lyrics and humm the words.
Pick out the different instruments.
Learn the origins of a sample.
Learn the lyrics and sing like no ones watching.
Venture to the genres of different music styles.

Sing a song of freedom
Whistle to a folk song
Slap a knee to some blue grass
Bang your head to some rock
Vibe to an Island style
Trip the light fantastic to some salsa
Cut a rug to swing or jazz
Feel down home to some country
head bob to some hip hop

Just listen to the music that soothes the soul,because music is a form of lifes expressions. For all it has to offer; Live with the Beat of your own drums pounding, sing your own lyrics of lifes passions.
Share your song
Share your Lyrics
Because without music life would B♭

Verbal Autopsy

My brain is a scalpel dissecting words as they come across my path.
Slowly I inject my personal thoughts into your cerebral cortex.
Invading the left hemisphere like ants on a picnic blanket.
It is I who tweaks the nerves, Sending pulses of neurotic pleasures through out your being.
Rummaging through your thoughts and behavior patterns like a seagull at a trash heap.
My words give life as I seep through your veins traveling a direct route to your ventricles.
I fill you with thought.........
I am performing Verbal Autopsy

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

In A White Room With Padded Walls

In a white room with padded walls, I sit silently hugging myself.
Not so much that I indulge in self infatuation, but this jacket has my arms buckled that way.
I can't write - I can't write - I can't wri......... Panic sets in
Calm down I tell myself, as a smirk appears on my lifeless face.
A new bad analogy created by my circling mind.
"It's Hotter than dog balls dragging across the desert floor on the 4th of July"
WHY-- Why do I think these crazy things?
Why does my mind create in an outlandish manor?
Tap - Tap on the caged glassless window.
"It's pill time" says the nurse.
Pills !! What pills and where am I?
Your in the Fun House so welcome to the Circus.
Well can I get peanuts to feed the elephants.

Just then; I wake up to realize I'm jamming peanuts up my daschunds mug.
My arms are free, yet they ache with stiffness as if they were really pinned behind my back.
I can write !!!
So what do I write about?
Maybe my dreams of my own restaurant "Crazy Jacks Crab Shack"
Maybe Ill write about sanity or lack of.
Maybe Ill write about this dream I was............
Wait where was I.
Was I just talking about analogies?
Oh yeah The rain
"Its coming down Like Judge Judy's Gavel"
no that's not it !!!
"Its pouring like grape Cool-Aide in the projects"
No No...... Forget it
I forgot what I was talking about.
Ill just lay my head on this Padded Wall
Wake me when you remember my placing..................

Sunday, November 13, 2011

I Slept With Her

I slept with her for many nights
Over and over I stripped her down
It wasn't for a while that I questioned her name
Yet she stayed by my side

She kept me safe in time of need
As she waited clinging to my shoulder
In harms way she took the lead
Still she yielded to my emotions

The burdens I feared I know she felt
As she knew I did not want to use her
I loved her hate and hated her love
But Angel was my protector

Her name was M16A1 with a M203 Grenade Launcher
And I was a U.S. Soldier

Tramp Stamp

I know the coined phrase is kind of old, and to be honest I do find it a decent placement for a tattoo on females. However; With that being said, today I witnessed something rather odd. During my daily job wich consist of 8 to 12 hrs a day of continual driving, I came across a heavier set lady with the stamp on her back, but that was partialy normal I suppose. The part that caught my attention was the fact that she had a slab of back fat pertruding at the same placement of the tattoo. I was humoring myself by questioning if it was supposed to be a 3D tattoo or holographic or one of those burned college frat thing-a-ma-bobbers.. Anyhoots I do believe in being proud of yourself and your physical features but at the same time I find my self riding a thin line of being somewhat hypocritical. Maybe Its me trying to muse myself through the day, as I would never say anything rude or suggestive to a person. Or maybe I'm being honest to my thoughts......

Saturday, November 5, 2011

3rd Class Citizen: Life of An American Half Breed

Born to a Caucasian father and a Filipino mother, There I stand. Born on a Naval base in Agana Heights Guam, then living the first 9 years in the Philippines, I found myself in Tampa Florida. A world where the accents were strange and the pigmentation was not the norm to my slanted eyes. This is where I first learned that I was a chink,gook,slant eyed slope. This is where I first learned that I was Chinese,Japanese, look at these dirty knees. What was I? My birth certificate had me as Asian Pacific Islander, yet some forms that I had to fill out had me listed as Asian and I also saw a few that had me listed as White. Was that an assumption based on dealing with my father without my presence. At that point it didn't matter. What I did know is I was made to feel not wanted and that I didn't belong. My first day of school has always been a vivid scene stuck on replay in my head. I remember leaving school wearing a yellow E.T. shirt when I was walking down the dirt road that was a direct shot to my house from the school. What should have been a 5 minute walk turned into a 15 minute fight against 5 guys who jumped me, both for being the new guy and by the racial name calling, for being what I was. It wasn't until my brother who looks more on the caucasian side stopped to see the commotion realized it was me under the pile that it as broken up. And when the kids asked why he stopped them from beating up the chink kid; it was then I realized that I was different and they looked at the two of us different from each other. Not realizing we were related until he said so.  So as much as I tried through  the years to fit in, the years past with more ridicule and verbal abuse along with built up anger. My boiling point came when I was around 15 years old when I guy almost hit me in his car. He stopped and said "You stupid gook I bet you don't even speak American" I replied "No I speak English" then I picked up a loose brick from the cobblestone road and bashed his car window. I felt good and bad at the same time. Good in the sense that I stood up for myself but bad because I felt a monster coming out of me. As the years past I gained my click of friends who accepted me for who I was and I became less restless about this inner emotion I had about racial issues. So at 17 years old I joined the United States Army, where I thought it would all be behind me, but ever was I wrong. There to the comments arose and the snickers behind my back were made. The difference was I lived a double life. I worked as a 71M Chaplain Assistant as far as the military was concerned, but out of the eyes of the Chaplains, SGT Major, First Sergeant and Commander, I would rip everyone a new one that said anything remotely close to what I would perceive as a sneer towards me. So were does that bring me now as a 37 year old man and father of a 19 year old daughter. To be honest I'm not sure. I have spent allot of time fighting for human rights from ethnicity to freedom of speech to freedom of choice and sexual preference. I spend more time enjoying laughter and making people laugh. I've learned some say it out of ignorance and some say it out of fear, and some out right mean what they say. I cannot fight the world, but I was able to make a change for me and my associates, by both fighting and reasoning. Now I fight with words and I'm proud to be your American Half Breed. Ive fought through the 3rd class citizenship, and made my way to the top of job markets,friendships and a general place in society. Maybe to some I'll always be 3rd class but I'll always be number 1 with the people that count.....      Learn-Respect-Apply-Love

Who Is She

As she dances across the ocean’s floor

I can feel her ----- drawing near to me

Whispering with Angels Breath

A lullaby so clear to me

Yet the words –so sweet of foreign tongue

Softly whisper as my heart goes numb

Yet we’ve never even spoken………

Often times we have passed before

Each time sailing by------- as if we have known each other for years

And as we meet again to pass these shores

That whisper fills my ears…….

Shall we dance she says ---- across these skies

Silhouette becomes one- as we hold firmly

Shall we dance she says ---- embrace this night

For tomorrow starts the journey

To where? I’ve no clue she never once told me

I woke up to soon--- to hear her speak I interrupted my own story

To never learn her name

Or feel her touch. Or taste her lips. Never to hear her whisper...

You see her presence was like a thousand tiny lights shhimmering on the ocean floor, and her eyes glistened intensely like nothing in this world.

Funny not to know her name but ever do I miss her……………………..

In Another Life

In another life we could have been a "You and I"

In another life we could have been a "We"

In another life we could have been a "Us"

In another life "Just you and Me"

In another life we could have been something!! More than we are now

In another life?

"In the life that I dream"

By (Jack) Gordan E Matteson

Yo Son

Ok so- today a little white kid was walking by me with an MP3 player of some kind and came up to me and said "Yo son you dont know nothing about this group, Ima know all the lyrics before this song catches on and becomes popular, Aint no one bumpin this joint yet." then he starts rappin "feeling-funkin-amps in the trunkin" so I replied "Yo son thats Jump Around by House of Pain-That came out when your dad was a son... and second dont ever call me son you Trailer Park Black Foot Hillbilly".. How old are you anyways. He said 13. So I told him "your lucky your only 13 because if you were 13.5 I would bust you in the chest.. I thought I did well

In This Life

Silently, I sit at night feelings the tears stream down my face. Sometimes tears of joy and sometimes tears of Sadness. Often wondering who I am and what my worth is. Trying to identify my mark in this world to my friends,family, as well as random strangers. I have been a son,brother,Little brother,big brother,friend,boyfriend,fiance,husband,ex-husband,father.  I've been able to travel the world both in and out of the country, I have made people laugh as well as cry. For the tears I apologies. For the laughter I have no regrets.   For anyone who I have friend ed I thank you. For Anyone who's has ever told me they loved me, thank you and I love you back.   Through the past couple of years I have seen my diabetes do things to me drastically and I've seen its stability. Ive seen the progression at a pace where I seen it effect lives such as my father. I know one day it will come to an end, yet I at least for the moment am not scared of that time. O.K. maybe a little, but not for the fact of dying, but for dying without ever becoming anything of significance. I know I have not been perfect or have always made the right choices and I may not ever reach a pinnacle but I would like to right my wrongs in this world. I hoped I have touched lives and have given good advice or maybe made you laugh when you needed it the most. I hope I have been forgiven by the people I have hurt. I hope that one day I can sit back and know that everything and everyone is ok. I am satisfied with just being Jack Gordan Earl Matteson the friend instead of the superstar,comedian,know it all. I used to dream of fame and fortune and continuous popularity. Now I think of equality,respect,friendship,peace,laughter and smiles. Easy to say or dream of, just as it is to give advice knowing that I have many days of uncertainty and dispare of my own. From health fears to relationship to finances to family. My body aches as I make others smile. I cry in side while I make others laugh. I'm not all right as I make sure others are. Maybe that's my mark "In This Life" or maybe I am hiding a unhealthy situation or masking my own imperfections. Either way I will keep searching to find who I am "In This Life............. Watch-Learn-Apply-Love

You're A Writer?

Pulitzer Prize! Pull it sir, and I'll surprize you. Well who do you write for and what are your credentials? I write for myself and for those who like to read. My credentials are myself and the body of work with my name attatched to it. I do not need to be part of the writers guild or national syndicated publishings to refer to the moniker or title or pseudonym. I be who I be, I is who I is, I say what I say and I write what I write. Some days when I write, its like riding a wave of pages into a Honolulu sunset; Other days, its like the shakes trying to thread a needle. None the less I write.

I write with everyday speech sometimes with slang and ebonics other days I write in a studious perplex mannor and some days I write as if I was a scholar of the utmost caliber to a point you need a thesaurus to follow. I write all over the page with reckless abandon to the rules of format. I am like verbal graffiti with little to no care of spelling or placement. I am a writer.

I write about everything that crosses my path or mind that deserves to be written about from my perspective. Sometimes politics, music,people,random nonsense,humor. Sometimes my views change from my original views; but non the less I write.

I enjoy facts but I love opinions. I can read and appreciate a fact that has been written a thousand times over. But there is nothing better in life than verbal observations accompanied with bad analogies. I like to read and see how opinions change and rechange. I love serious as well as quirky.
I am a writer of songs and poems. I am a writer of jokes and skits, I am a writer of spoken word and soon to be a writer of books of self perspective. So I write.

I am a writer known as the "Idiot Genius"...........So write

Write whats in your heart and on your mind. Write with conviction, write with humor, write with a smile, write with tears, just write. Abandon your thoughts of spelling,grammer and structure. Just write...

Question is "Are You A Writer"?

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Clothing Optional

In everyday society, we as people strive to have a presentable figure. Some people strive to perfect what they percieve as the perfect body. That part we will leave to ourselves and our own imagination on what we find visually attractive. There is nothing wrong with being slender, slim, skinny, chunky, full figured, hefty, big boned, overweight, fat, etc...etc...  But with that being said, I should say that "Clothing Optional" should have a list or disclaimer making it only optional for some, and or for those that qualify.. For Example; If you have full and I mean FULL body hair, to a point that getting out of the ocean means you also brought up minnows and micro organisms and look like a walking bed of kelp then NO. If you have stretch marks as wide as the strip of beach you are trying to enjoy then NO. If you are bald with a skullet, looking like Kenny G in twenty years from now doing a porno shower scene then NO. If you have to lift any extra flap of skin to lather down with sun tan oil or sun screen then NO.(ps if you have to lift any flap of skin, then putting anything on it wont be necessary, because it is already hidden by the other 50lbs of flesh hovering over it like _____________ <--- insert Bad analogy Here. If the Twins went from Double D circle to Swing Low Lane, then No. You people have not the right to be optional clothing. Maybe the option to put on more than what you are already wearing but this class of society should add not subtract. If you are considering joining a nudist colony, then this probably refers to you as well. In my adventures of the logistic/courier field, I have delivered parcel to numerous Nudist camps and they were predominantly the people you did not want to see naked. I would say at least 99% had BBD. (Bad Body Disease) So shake what your mama gave you in the confines of your own homes, be happy with your body even if this is you I am speaking of. Just don't be happy at the expense of others visual torment..

Monday, October 24, 2011

Crack Kills

I am not talking about the cooked up little giblets that ran rampit in the early to mid eighties, that still has a main stay in todays drug world. Not the crack that had Pooky from New Jack City fiending like a Seagul in a Phillidelphia trash heap....... Nope that ain't it. I am refering to overweight people who wear "Skinny Jeans". Really and I do mean REALLY---- WTF wee you thinking? your legs look like an overstuffed burrito with shoes on, or some fruit rollup on steroids. But thats not even the issue. The issue is the crack in the back that looks like it could part the Red Seas. I mean if your crack is big enough to use as a half pipe in the Winter X games, Then these pants are not for you. In understanding that there are skinny people, who wear or rock out in baggy pants that make them look utterly ridiculous, that does not bare the right to reverse the thought process and go tight.. With that said; there is nothing wrong with being big in stature and structure, but wear the clothing accordingly to avoid ridicule, and to not end up as a picture from the internet that floats around constantly photoshoped and blah blah blah.....

Sunday, October 23, 2011

People Who Inspire

Some days I think of what my insperation in life is. What do I strive to be? Maybe a film/movie maker, screenplay writer, musician, journalist, comedian.  Maybe I want to be the "Great Debater" or maybe I just want to ruffle some feathers. Most days however I just want to laugh, and make people laugh. However my insperation in life actualy comes from people who are not greatly known for their abbility to make people laugh. They are known for compassion, freedom, human equality, freedom of speech, freedom of choice and religion. Great people in this world have risen and used their voices to change the world people such as John Fitzgerald Kennedy, Robert Nesta Marley, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Mohandes Karamchand Gandhi(Mahatma), John Lennon, Dalai Lama, Nelson Mandela. Then there are people in my everday life such as my daughter Sarah Matteson, and my sister Michelle Matteson Eliason, my aunt Betsy Matteson Crowell. Maybe it is with all these people that I find my insperation to have a reason to smile and laugh. Maybe its the words in a song or the words of a great speech that gives me a piece of mind that every little thing is going to be all right; so yes laugh and spread the laughter. Dream your dream and know that it is possible........................................... Everythings Possible

                                                                                          Live-Learn-Apply = Respect
                                                                                          Jack Gordan Earl Matteson

Dimentions of an Idiot Genius

Some say that I am to smart for my own good; others say I am just a smart ass; But all would agree that I have a weird view on life. Perhaps it has something to do with the shape of my eyes. Maybe I see things slanted. Maybe I see things in wide screen mode. Maybe my perspective is on half tilt. None the less; I see, I think, I write. I tend to use bad analogies and poor grammatical structure, but I would like to think that I am quick witted and come with a silver tounge sort of speak. I tend to gravitate towards a humerous approach in my writing because I can always find humor in most topics. I have no boundaries in my writings. I speak on topics such as music,politics,day to day living,things I see on my daily commute, and anything in between. So if this sounds like your cup of tea, then hop on board the Express train to WTFville, and witness the chaotic masterpiece unfold before your eyes.... Jack Gordan Earl Matteson

Insert from a book I was writing called Eat My Soul

Eat my soul, but put my feelings in a zip lock glad bag. Maybe I’ll store it in the freezer for a rainy day. It would probably get freezer burn before I’d use it again, but hey that’s life. With all it has to offer; Life – the treasures of life and the pleasures that bring forth- temporary stability as well as erroneous hope tends to bind those whom only wish to comfort your thoughts for the moment at hand, only to dispose them at their convenience may truly be an innocent act of passive affection, but never the less a disheartening act it is.

I feel that the innocence of words with honesty has been molested and manipulated, to a point that it weakens my mind to feel that, for every spoken or written word to be said would have to follow with assurance, rather than unhampered knowledge by way of the heart. “To know without the questions of sincerity”. Through out life I’ve heard promises that never seen the light of day. I myself have made promises that never surfaced. And though I have seized each expression with benefit and doubt, I must admit that I too have questioned sincerity. Perhaps it’s because I tend to rival the compassion of words with my own convictions.

Almost like a dog who sits patiently by the door waiting for its’ owner, I too sit around waiting for hope, but time does not seem to favor my corner, which brings me to ponder the truth behind hope. Once, I used to be of the opinion that, there would always be tomorrow, and that there would be a better luck the next time. Now I am starting to reveal to myself that my cycle of faith is a circle of misconception.

“Truth lives no longer in the eye of the beholder”. It too, now cowers in the shadows of society’s crutch. Well I say to hell with the crooked walking stick and all the mumbo jumbo that comes with it. Extra baggage is the way I see it. Bring me back to a time when commitment anchored the dream of companionship, and self- indulged goals backed by the thought of finance never thought to lay burden upon the eased flow of the mind. I wish of a time when words as well as actions, were cherished in high regards; rather than preoccupying the mind with thoughts of possible gain.

I often try to find understanding in the people around me to gain wisdom as well as knowledge from a different perspective, only to be pushed away by fear. I have also retreated to the boundaries of music, art, and magic to let people see myself in a characteristic way so they would get a general idea of me without getting to close. Twice I have let into my life the chance to understand me without character or walls, and both have been scorned with failure and uncertainty.

I now find myself not wanting to hide; but at the same time not wanting to try. I have resorted to the form of penmanship because it is hear that I can be myself. I find that by writing you can no longer eat my soul. My feelings are mine and shared only on paper. I have not given up hope in spite of the contents that lead to this point, but safe it is to say, romanticizing will probably never come out from my heart to another again; only by the silence of thought shall I whisper to the angel of my heart.

Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus and Elvis cruises I-95 eating Chicken Soup for the soul along with his peanut butter and banana sandwich, so what’s your point. A line is as straight as you draw it and as crooked, as you want to see it. A person should not have to turn to forms of self-help guidelines for happiness or inspiration to replenish the seeds of their soul. The soul can only be built by the terminology and understanding of life and not by the coat tails of public structure, that is what makes individuality, and individuality is what charms the soul. Trials and tribulations set forth the tears that water the seeds of wisdom, and the lessons learned become the soil of your enlightenment; in turn enlightenment gives structure. Twisted as it may be, my last recollection proved to be of the fact that a structure could not position itself as a platform without a form of support. So as a seed blossoms to a flower, it is my impression that the flower could not maintain life without water nor sunlight. Both of which would be considered support.

Truth is; effervescence is as shallow as a puddle smack dab in the middle of life and its winding road. The endless toil of fear that wrestles the heart, the cloudy thought that consumes the mind with misdirection and accusations are just a few of the obstacles along the path. Sooner or later all will have to face them, some more often that others do. Well Jack jumped the candlestick, Jack tumbled down the hill, and Jack climbed a beanstalk. So why does it always have to be Jack? Why does Jack have to hit the road? What is the terminology “You don’t know Jack”? I guess the answer is simple: just because”. No screw that, rewind the track that plays the song; its time to change the lyrics. Why should I let others dictate the tempo?

To play devils advocate is a way of perceiving the train of thought from opposite observation. And thought the halo that ponders above sits in a transgressed position, it is still a representation of what good lies within. Even with lack luster I feel the glistening sensation of a mind well hidden in passion for life and certitude, is the mind that chooses to breathe, so its time to let Jack out the frowning box. To think and act without extempore is a commensurable way of thought, and will always be the true lengths of an eased mind. Almost in an innocent-yet vulnerable way, to a point that every word and sound becomes a new instrument of genuine understanding; that is what I seek.

When every time seems like the first time; that is an invaluable feeling to be shared only once, in a person’s life. I feel that after the first, all other feelings that share a moment shall never compare for the fact that it is no longer original to your heart. So if another should tempt the feeling again, I shall never act upon it, for the fact that it would presumably end the same as the previous. As the critics say “Sequels are never as good as the original” so why try again. Better left alone rather than trying to extend a timeless script. Life is a story anyhow, one page after another, and the book has to end sooner or later. Sure you can turn back the pages and read them again, but the reality of it would be just a memory like yesterday’s news. Reading between the lines will not change the outcome of any situation nor will it bring solution to the next page entry.

So as we toil with expression, take the time to find what it is that should be spoken. Take the verbal passage to the final journey of your happiness, then reflect on times past and observe your behavior. It is at this time you will find that the road less traveled may sometimes soot your needs with efficiency. Though many strive for the same goal, not all take the same road to get there. And as we walk along the road, each obstacle will be a different formidable task, not to say that one problem would be harder than the other would, but that each problem will be a staple in life lessons.