~To Surfing~

•November 30, 2011 • Leave a Comment

Taking off deep, deeper now than ever

I don’t care if I make it out cause suddenly I’ve never felt better

I’m consumed in it, one with the feeling

Fully aware of this moment cause it could easily be the last of me

It’s in these moments engulfed by chaos that I feel the most free

Free of everything that has ever meant anything to me

Flying down the line I can see the opening

But I’m in too deep for an exit to be worth imagining

Yet I’m getting closer and closer, pushing myself harder over the edge

Pulling high up into the speed pocket as it grinds over the reef’s final ledge

Blinded by the droplets, but holding on for the life in my head

With my adrenaline pumping, the pieces flow back together

Still on my feet hopefully this time it will last forever

I never thought I’d make it out and see it through to the end

But now I’m standing here shaking

Wondering if I could ever have a better friend

I take it all in and sort it all out

And dive deep into my savior, the ocean

Where the best of me is brought out


•November 29, 2011 • Leave a Comment

Driving next to a cop 7 deep in a 5 person car, honking the horn making a song-beep bop beep beeep beeeep bop, pull in front a bus here, half stop and crawl through a red light there, disregarding stop signs pretty much everywhere, but it’s all good in Argentina. It’s different…For safety, For safety they kept saying, honking the horn at every intersection we’d fly through. They don’t drive in their own lanes, they share the road, if someone wants to go faster, they pass between two cars who are half in one lane half in another..They share the road..they share almost everything.. There’s no such thing as your own drink, everyone passes it, they say they don’t want countries, they say they don’t want borders, they say down with the consumer system, they say their meat is the best in the world and that it’s not pumped full of chemicals, they say they’re all brothers and that the nickname is stronger than the real name…they’re just like us, and at the same time, totally different

Funk Resurrection Manifesto

•November 29, 2011 • Leave a Comment

My extraverted intuition flows out from within

Manifesting the world on behalf of feeling

Holding onto these droplets of iridescent reflection

Finding their place in these waves of philosophical introspection

Which recently exponentially double up combining in a fusion of auxiliary

As they meet with the incoming tide of introverted feeling

Giving rise to unusual skill in character and linguistic fluency

Synched in with the fluidity, developing the rooms in this ship of literary facility

This poetry that flows in me simultaneously creatively participating in the art of living

Pioneering discoveries of entirely new ways of perceiving things

Profoundly this visionary comprehending the extraordinary

intricate inner world on this path of reality and fantasy

at the edge of the looking glass staring at his heart in his hand

Creating images with a pen and an on-the-spot plan

Liberated by his imagination in this world of repressive norms he can’t understand

So he chose to look in with the help of a friend

together on a mission-expedition to push for a better state of livin


In center of the hurricane huddled round the candle light that doesn’t flicker in the wind

Here we’ve sat staring at the flame reflecting on everywhere we’ve been, from now to back then,

in deep meditation waiting for the right time to spark the seed that will grow to a revelation

who’s flame will spread quickfast in the wind across every nation

Because every generation needs a transformation

Young people grab the torch and unite with the Funk revolution

Funk Rhythm          Psychedelic Vision

Comin to you live to spread the revolution

Ocean minded          Spontaneous intuition

Together not divided in this world is our mission

Funk Rhythm          Lyrical Precision

Join us in awareness on this conscious expedition

From everywhere we are, from everywhere we’ve been

Together synched in as one we’ll transcend

Dude thats gold, we got somethin goin here man, i got a little addition, not related in ur style, but a sort of emotional description of funkin. here goes

Funkin flowin through the vien, crawling up my arms, taking my legs, infusing my brain with the rythm, sendin signals down and throughout, my body drifts along the wave, matching every Peak every trough, the hips ohhh baby them hips, swayin shakin bumpin movin, its not about the scene, not about bein cool, not even about fuckin the girl (though far from discouraged), its about that feeling, the vibe, that everything in that momento in time is more than good and theres nothin you´d rather be doing and nothing that you´d rather have kissin them ears, the funk commands you it takes you to the place everyone wants to go, with or without drugs. Maybe its just the way I was made but Funk man, there’s somethin inside me that denies the existence of any sort of anti-funkism, that aint the reason its dead in today’s World, that aint the reason that our ears are now invaded and dominated by synthesizers, grindin music, and that electronica bull. Funkin is innate, its somethin everyones born with, those who dont know need only to feel that feeling, they need that special bumpin swayin movin goin through their veins. For the good of mankind, For the benefit of music, for the advancement of the conciousness, for this the Funk needs a new pulse, and that is our job our mission our calling. Let the Revolution take hold of you, change you, make you move like u know u wanna. ITS TIME!

•November 29, 2011 • Leave a Comment
…I tell them surf, art, music, poetry, philosophy…and every single time I get the same answer, ‘Ok, but how are you gonna make money?’ Any big city you go to, people are always gonna try and stick you with an occupation-game label and when they can’t, they hate it. They gotta box you up somehow with their categorical filter, so what’s it gonna be? How are they gonna label this profound kid who doesn’t know and doesn’t care where he’s going, wandering from place to place with a ukulele in his hands, who’s so goddamn intrigued on some adventure of living while they’re working 9-5 in their corporate suits and ties Monday through Friday? But today, this one business man who asked the legendary question that has been passed down from generation to generation since long before the fucking 1700’s, he went about it in this certain elitist way that really struck me with a deep feeling of revulsion. The only response that came to my flustered mind that was basic enough for me to translate into Spanish was Timothy Leary’s famous metaphorical phrase “Turn on, Tune in, and Drop out, but I’m not a–” he cut me off, “So you’re a hippy”…beat to the punch, damn him!

•November 29, 2011 • Leave a Comment

“I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.” -Jack Kerouac


•November 25, 2011 • Leave a Comment

The walls fell down

The mind is open

The filter on my perception dissolved

An hour after the tab did


Flowing down a river of metaphors

Taking me to the top and bottom floors

I find my self standing in the middle of all opposites

That collide within all at once

Forming a singularity in fusion

And I rise


Pulling it all into me, balanced on the invisible bridge

I transcend

Into the clouds looking down over Earth

Sun rays go through me and ri-ca-shay a thousand iridescent ways

Sending more than the spectrum of light into a rippling maze

Dripping from the sky as moments turn into days

Slowly raise my head to see a different of the same’s lips moving at me

The way he was standing flew through me a feeling

Which can unmistakenly be described as an amalgamation

of a smootheled gloss polished roundrubbed hood of a back in years surf mobile

With an underlying cool whip over cupcake frosting primer layer

Whose smooth round off beneath the surface shapes the flow

On the right side of the wave that’s folding over my island


-The intrepid traveler, the tsunami rider-

But this time it’s coming from all around, even up from the ground to engulf me!

This has happened before

It won’t be the first time I’ve been to the bottom floor


This island is a volcano in the middle of the ocean

That will grow twice its size when the water resides

But for now it’s going under, I’ll soon find myself a deep sea diver

In and out of the portals that form the bottom floor


Mountains fall into the sea

Only to resurface closer to the sun

The all in one

The more puzzles I pick from the sea

The greater the sum that makes up me


But here in this chaos, there is no time to create shelter

So there is no time to create order

The non stop infinitely expanding potential fills me with waves of uncertainty

Showing me spectrums of depth and meaning

Taking me further and further from the sight of the shore

Into the fathomless ocean until I reach the bottom floor

Which I pass through to find my self in a pitch black room

While the portals suck me closer and closer


Deeper and deeper into the chaotic abyss

Patience young master, you will know when it is your time

From the depths a light reaches me

And lifts my head to see this golden droplet

Over the quivering surface

Grab on now! As the one becomes all


From the bottomless abyss pulled up to the surface

To construct a ship, to ride over and navigate through all of it

It will be bigger, shaped better, more elaborate than the last

And this time I will know exactly which way to turn the mast

To lead me from the bottom of the middle of the ocean

To the volcano that’s now rising to the top of the world

I synch in with the wind, and ride the storm back to shore

I see the whole puzzle and every piece I’m grateful for


Shaping from the whole, I restructure a vessel that rides with the flow

Tune in, adapt with it, synch in with the patterns of what’s to come

Pull it all together inside of me as one

From the ground to the sky, from the sea to the stars

I too am the pattern that effects me

I’m not only a piece of the puzzle, but the puzzle itself


Shipwrecked and drowning in time’s maelstrom

Faith threw me a rope

Pulling me back to shore

Only to face many storms more


Ping-pong balling thoughts into the night

•November 25, 2011 • Leave a Comment

Sometimes, quite often late into the night

I come to find myself deep into the unknown on some kind of expedition

Carefully charting a detailed map of a landscape that does not exist

Following the amalgamation from figments of imagination that I half assist

Building mansions of metaphorical thought that I manifest and express onto this paper

Why? Cause their creations bring me a smile.

What’s the difference between these  mansions

And the house of cards our western minds are built on?

They’re both built over a fault line, trying to form some kind of peace and unity over a infinitely deep chaos filled canyon

that seems to underlie everything in this world, those who dig deep into this mystery all find the same thing

Chaos. Opposites, this schism, this uncertainty and obscurity that has swept so many of us out to sea

All rivers lead to the ocean, all paths lead to rome, and what the fuck does Rome have to do with anything? I don’t know

But for the sake of what I’m saying, Rome’s through the bottom of the sea

Atlantis it may as well be, the city in midst of chaos, the secret order

In the labyrinths of potential paths to get to the ultimate meaning

So many of my fellow philosophers have lost their heads

And now me…

This subjectivity sometimes makes it so hard to breath. Who the fuck is me?

Human number 5 trillion 1 hundred and fifty three? I don’t know shit about anthropology

But I know there’s a longer tail than that attached onto the evolutionary human centipede

Shoot, the term ‘human centipede’ has a bad rep these days, whatever let’s just say ‘life tree’

That we keep branching off, into more and more complexities

Further and further from the straight line trunk

Farther and farther from the energy stored in the roots

It seems the more I add onto this fantasy, the more waves come to flood my island of subjectivity

When the storms come, and the ‘I’ disappears, and I slip away into separation and fear

There goes my foundation again, everything I thought I was, thought I knew, thought I’d accomplished

It all amounts to nothing as I’m left again as nothing in the middle of nowhere holding onto this point of awareness, alone

Is this objectivity? Can it ever be just me with this tail, or always we? Or due to my point in space, here we are again with the law of general relativity..

God dammit, alone again, as it all caves in on me

Well, like I’ve said many times before when I’ve fallen through the bottom floor:

Staring into the night sky

I am here and I am alone

But here alone with everything.

But here again I stand, and am still standing, and when I re unite with my will

I will go on building, these mansions of thought that infiltrate space

And make the most of this darkness and my time lost in this unknown place

And try to form a more solid base that will hopefully last longer than the one in the past

Cause I’m back here again, alone and shaking, wishing to some god I had a friend

No one wants to be here, not even me, I wish I could find some other mystery

The potential of being down here on the pendulum is what drives seemingly everything we do

Besides of course satisfying our need for food

But mentally, uncertainty is the devil man, it’ll sweep you in, so we build build build to stay above obscurity my friend

we need to be sure of things, put things in pigeon holes and label em up so we get that feeling of security when we ‘know’

Otherwise, like me, you’ll be swept in by the undertow

And being shipwrecked takes you to a place you don’t want to be

Trust me my brothers and sisters, hold on strong to what you believe

It doesn’t matter if it’s Science, Islam or Christianity

As long as you’re not pushing it on anybody

Whatever it is is fine with me, whatever helps you from drowning in this sea

I don’t care anymore whether people’s bases are ‘wrong’ or ‘untrue’

If it helps you function and  be a better you, than that’s it’s the best thing you can do

Not many are cut out to travel down the inward path

And to the courageous few that do and make it back with their ship intact,

We owe them so much for sacrificing their well being

For the expansion of consciousness and human understanding

These philosophers, far and few between, I urge you to listen to their travels

And add onto your mansion of knowing with the puzzles they’ve picked from the sea

Because it’s not a safe place for you or me

But I have no choice to follow this path of mystery

Even though I know one day it will ruin me

It seems this is what I was supposed to be

A shaman, a medicine man, to understand and build the evolutionary human being

In its expansion and adaption to chaotic sea that underlies all we are and see

But now, I have gone too far

Underestimated the waves on that last expedition

Is that what happened you overconfident ‘intrepid’ metaphysician

Almost got lost for good searching for that secret meaning this time huh?


You must endure

For the last two years, lost at deep at sea, riding through the storms

Yet holding my serenity, through drastic ups and downs and intervals of lost identity

But this last storm, it took it all away, left me hopeless, wrecked, and debilitated

And somehow, Soooomehow, made it back to I, and climbed back to the bridge connecting both sides

Staring down into the bottomless abyss, hoping never to get swept back into it

The last time. I’ll still get my water from the ocean, still swim in it from time to time, still ride the waves close to shore

But now that I have pulled myself remotely out of colossal times and sank my feet into the sand back on shore

I’ve found that my well being and sanity is much-a-lot-more worth fighting for

Life’s short, yes, but chaos makes it unbearably long

I’ve found smooth waters and anchored my ship just offshore, I’ve built the strongest dams

I’ve got a watch tower to look out for any tsunamis on the horizon

I’ve got my mansion built just up the hill, with my scripture on the table, an arms reach from my bed

I’ve got all that I’ve learned, all my quotes, all my poems, all my favorite songs

I’ve got my friends, my pack of cigarettes for those nights with my ‘exploding head syndrome’

which as it is so appropriately named, has made a fear of the dark imbedded in my memories since I was a kid

And at the slightest trembling or perceived threat, the alarm gets sounded in the tower

And just before I get surrounded by the places I’ve been running from my whole life,

I’ve got my scientific web pages saved with facts facts facts, that reassure me that it’s just this and that

They tell me all there is to know about the structure of the cup that holds the flow

And soon my head will be filled with so many facts that I’ll forget all about the water

That awaits just inside of every representation


They’ll prove it to you

Thank god for some reassurance

Thank god for some facts that teach me about our connection

Without me having to step outside the comforts and security of my mansion

I’ve got em all right by my bed, and yet there’s still this uncertainty in my head

Post dramatic stress, anxiety from the past

Acceptance of all the absurd things that have happened to me

It’s harder than it sounds, cause they’re still alive in there, in my memories, in me

And beneath that, there’s still this centipede,

This unconscious undertow that my will and my thoughts that act as dams, hold no water against

But now I will to build fast, so I can endure in this life, with my sanity, at last

Build and make it last, build fast, build to make it last

I hope in the near future, on similar occasions late into a sleepless night, when I pick up a pen

And let my mind go and just write whatever it is that needs to be outflowed

I hope the topics change, I hope this will be the last

Expression written in fear of my chaotic past

But really, who am I kidding?

I’ll look at myself in the mirror and say

“Matt, you’re standing in front of a tsunami here”

And yet, the towering drama of that terminology is in many ways meaningless

There’s been a tsunami on the horizon since I was 6 years old

What the fuck am I supposed to do?

That’s how I’ve tried to make myself a superman

By dealing with the avalanches that bring down the mountain

By riding with the tsunamis that flood the island

Emotionally and psychologically

“The time has come to prove by deeds

that man will not quake before the pit where fantasy

condemns itself to tortures of its own creation

when he advances to the narrow passageway

about whose mouth infernal flames are blazing.

Approach the brink serenely and accept the risk

of melting into nothingness.” -Faust