HAPPY BIRTHDAY TONY! 🧁

Since last year, I have had a front row seat to the inception of my friend Tony Moore’s AWAKE show – which is PHENOMENAL!!! (In case you have not seen it, AWAKE will be performed and livestreamed at The Bedford on Wednesday, October 13th via Facebook Live.) 

In honour of Tony's birthday this year, one poem has been written to correspond with each song from the AWAKE album. Which includes:

SIDE ONE 

1.	AWAKE 
2.	THE CLOCK HAS STARTED
3.	LOVE, WE NEED YOU HERE 
4.	JUST ONE NIGHT 
5.	HOPIUM 
6.	DEAR LIFE
7.	NOT NORMAL 

SIDE TWO

1.	REMEMBER ME
2.	CRAZY IN THE SHED 
3.	DARK WINTER
4.	WHAT’S THE POINT?
5.	THE ONE PERCENT SOLUTION 
6.	WE ARE ONE
7.	ASLEEP 
8.	LOVE, WE NEED YOU HERE (part 2)

No, I am not yelling at you right now, when Tony writes his lyrics they are always in capital letters – simply preserving the integrity of his process.  
Please note each inspired poem is listed in the order of the AWAKE album.

And, of course the real reason I am here writing this piece…  

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TONY! X


My poetic companion of AWAKE!

Lack of sight

a bend of electric guitar strings
opens a journey in the abyss
of the human unknown
dark alleyways riddled with walls of music

can you see all the electric guitar tabs
they are real

the echo of Pinocchio comes to fruition
to exist – sceptics sneer
when will the disenchantment be terminated

our optics remain residually closed
in absence of effort

to be able see
to be able to understand
to be able to explode with a passion

which supersedes any type of expression
wait, can you hear it?

the electric guitar as it revolts
against societies angst

at times it is essential
that optics be dug out
perhaps at which point
sight will genuinely exist

sdrawkcab, clock cogs

tick 
   tock 
         t
           ic
            k
       t
     o
   c
 k

tick 
      tick 
 tock 

time 
    valuable 
          diminished 

     semblance of sense 
 resides no more – the forward
momentum that once allowed 
      a trajectory of innovation 
             to enhance our globe 
       is now coated in bile, feces, 
                              and vomit 

             there is no timekeeper 
                      sense is truly 
                        an abolished 
                              state 

Devil’s Pitchfork

       I don’t know when my labyrinth 
            turned into a three-way serpent tongue
                  cemented on hallowed ground 
          journey’s are infinite 
                earth holds its secrets 
           no one ever will be able to identify 
                   the capacity and desire 
                            for fueled love 
                     nothing inauthentic 
               a concept to solidify 
           human void of isolation 
      spirits are bound to the earth 
          with conceptual ghost shackles 
                 more potent than the metal 
                      which purposefully traps 
                             human flesh

             in order to transcend 
    illumination – the earth of pain 
          must be clenched in a tight fist 
               then released to the powers 
                     terra firma which crumbles 
              in the core of an unaware palm
           of the history immersion 
                  of the truth revealed 
                        in not only love 
                            but also 
                                 a profound sense 
                           of comprehension

I am!

who the f*ck are you to tell me 
     I do not belong in this moment 
             to live in a world where 
               naysayers offer condolences  
           imagination supersedes
   shattered systems 

   chapters occur in the form 
            of not only books 
     but also with the concept of music 
          each bar offered includes 
        with it a story that could either 
             propel a life to desire 
                       to fight harder 
            or one that decides to languish
               in the melancholy 
                  of being a ghost 
               already dead

                 I think not! 

If hope was pixie dust, would you sniff it?

 Complexity disguised in the appearance 
   of several key signatures & changes 
       not to mention triad concealed 
            time signatures

                    I imagine in my mind 
              the long piano compositions 
                    I used to practice to prepare 
           for my grade 2 Royal Conservatory Exam 
               with more than one alteration
                    throughout a distinctive piece
                            of music  

                the ability to retain one or two key signatures 
                     is doable.  However, the implementation
                of a myriad in one composition -- perplexes:
                    d, f, and e minor adore the taunt                                                                                                               
                          from the f# major 
                 the technical component 
                        escalates appreciation 
                                of a composition 
                           that offers Hopium 
                      in exchange for an iridescent  
                             tomorrow 

“Dear Life”

I never protected you
    in a fashion conducive
         to prosperity 
 
   stifled by numerous individuals
      a proper chance to acquisition
         the honest essence of how
             you’ve constructed me 

    in a fashion similar to Swiss Cheese 
       riddled with holes — each one
          void of purpose

    bit by bit
       you ensconced me in your reality 
          the emergence of selected 
              cluster mind photographs 
     
     are taken over with an authentic 
       drop of reality ink, well, the ink
           is nothing special only when tethered
      to the expression of an individual 
          who seeks to spelunk the caverns 
              of a soft spongy surface 

     over time, you dear life
       consumed me with rested 
           embers that appreciate 
                 rebirth and redemption 

    when chances are offered 
       the past is of no consequence
           only a chartered path forward
               to consume each moment
       not only with passion
           also, the many faces
                of verity

Nothing has ever been normal!

A world steeped in hidden locks & keys 
is significantly not normal 
advocates on this earth 
desire to listen to the battlecries 
of those who have genuinely suffered 

the ability to endure, is one that defies 
any bloody odds you wish to place  
why the hell, do others, not know how to acknowledge 

their own independence, 
      their own fire in the bellies 
               their own decisions 
      
        we reside in a world 
 where if you disagree with someone you are wrong
    how the hell is that going to be of benefit 
 to any human 

     how are children supposed 
              to feast on illumination 
when at every corner there is a MASSIVE
sized annoying Alice in Wonderland Walrus
  that refuses to move 

        the judgment cast from said character 
is one that should be left in the depths of an oubliette 
   so hidden in the earth’s core 

   that is a concept that many feel 
should be done to individuals who have done
nothing wrong but exist in a world where
  they are not the norm 

     the word normal in its sense 
is supposed to encapsulate comfort 
    it has not done so 

    the word normal has been utilised 
as a crutch, throughout society to defy 
   and neglect individualism 

      to take each character that is unique
 and morph them into the ideal 
   of what the options should be as opposed
       to what they are 

“It’s only love that’s manifest…”

epic affords humanity
      moments of life-scape  
          sincerity where 
    i am allowed to remain
       static for a micro second 
           the ability for the capacity 
       for time to be a reality 

  as beings of complex emotion
what will i offer for my higher purpose
    the verity of all my ugly
              and elegance 
       
      shatters frozen plasma 
  in the pattern of a crime scene
      the reel in the projector 
         is not completely damaged 
              only worn

      to come to terms 
   with who i am, the person 
 i desire to be, certain philosophies 
    follow me wherever i go  
       
       if i am to be honest 
    i have the tenacity 
 to advocate for those 
  who feel they are unable 
      to speak 

   negative consequences 
      of a voice that stands 
         against society's
             vile standards 

  i know my impact 
     i don’t like to discuss it; because 
        for me if i stop to meander
           on various thoughts 
               of how my universe 

    places my organic being
        in various locations
           for the greater good 
              i’ll explode

    nick once explained it
       — as being an instrument
         there are plenty 
             of reasons why 
                 energies 
                    collide 

   the movement of spirits 
      who adhere to the questions 
          of why?

        my reply
           — why not?

Bonkers in the oubliette!

one flew over the cuckoos nest insanity
offers with it -- a micro portion of comfort 

does it matter? who marinates 
in the repetition offered 
with the same daily routine 
-- there is a madness that evokes 
the ability to go CRAZY
regardless of circumstance 

at present this straight jacket 
that holds my hands in a position 
to disallow me to move that piece 
of hair that impacts my visual acuity 

falls down my left optic 
each time I attempt 
to be gnab (bang, out of order)

Onyx Pitch

hear that, the manner in which 
the electric guitar oozes its notes 
enough to transform a nauseous 
system into a full adulterated 
state of unusual calm 
tranquility exists in moments 
of soft relaxation 

what if, 
     what if, everything we knew
   simply did not exist 

        the dark cloud 
    most of humanity resides 
        offers a proposed component 
to achieve pockets of time 
   riddled with moments 
            of elegance 

     the picturesque piece 
of noir is one that conceals 
iridescent illumination 
at its core 

 comfort is typically 
discouraged inside of spaces 
riddled with shadows 

…stop…listen…

     peace is induces 
            tears 

Cognizant!

As it was explained to me 
  by my mentor

man + woman + birth + death = infinity 

what was neglected to be mentioned
is that, it is never that simple 
   there are so many variations 
that could be made inside 
this specific mathematical equation 
    
life is not as linear as we have learned 
we are taught as children to supposedly 
play nice – however, do individuals 
genuinely engage in that behaviour
or do they stockpile insults in the fashion 
of a severely jealous dragon 

when is enough, enough? 
 
humans have been engaged 
in war since the dawn of time 

of course, it was, it is the easiest 
way to reign – one line 
on a map does not distinguish 
where humans are from

it only sets to increase 
the devastation 
of future generations 
unless it is finally 
dissolved 

Upper crust, with crumb validity

The level of extreme poverty 
in some of the earth’s curve
is disgraceful – at this very moment 
6:48 am EST on October 7 
there are human beings 
who live in a space where 
a water boiling advisory resides 

Water is one of the most important 
elements, it offers hydration 
for moments of extreme thirst 
a liquid grave is not the proper response 
there are infrastructures 
which offer equality 
in addition to equity 

Unfortunately 
it falls under the concept 
of idealistic bullsh*t 

perhaps in my lifetime
the phoenix will rise 
at this point 
I fear it's doubtful  

Ohana!

A blacksheep 
born into a family 
seeks to find their tribe 
would you believe 
the formation 
was held together 
every single night
for a hundred plus days 

As I write this poem
cool tears slowly hug my cheeks 
there is something so essential 
about connection 
especially if it transforms  
individuals toward the positive 

This propels my once
suicidal essence 
to appreciate the various 
dimensions offered 
from a collection 
of personalities 
who gathered 
for so many reasons
more than just being
entertained 

in between AWAKE & ASLEEP

humanity walks in between two modes
    alert & comatose – throughout those 
 moments battles & wars are lost 
     children are born & die 
some adults carry the mantle 
     to battle the wo/men 
        who came before 

     insomnia strikes the clock
 over stupidity – maneuver 
  through a world that knows 
        nothing 

     wheatgrass cries crimson 
         plasma which infests 
               the tobacco

LOVE!!!

it is so easy to hate 
however, the path is usually 
a dead end, with a relentless brick wall 
would you not prefer a cerebral banquet 
a jubilation which showcases 
immense adoration

I understand that in life 
there must be a balance 
to be able to genuinely 
be afforded the best possible 
human pathway

inside of each of us 
there is a profound annihilation
where choices must be made
do we break ourselves into perfectly 
shattered shards or use elemental 
properties to bond those components 
together? 

I’d like the red pill please 
anything is better than being
trapped in a residence 
of a broken world that wishes 
to conceal inconsistencies 
in lieu of questions 

Life has to be uncomfortable 
it is the only way to allow justice 
to prevail in a fashion that is conducive 
to finally flourish regardless of terrain  

Please note Art Credit © Tony Moore, Pete Edwards and Fractal Artist Teja Krašek.

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