"Circuitboard Surfer" Photoshop, Barthosa Nkurumeh, 2000


"Circuitboard Invert" Photoshop, Barthosa Nkurumeh, 2000

Act I: Open Wounds

Online free access
Online free parking, trivial pursuits
Editing the truth, incomplete notions
Re-scripting the stories, designed
Living on the last hours, the signs
Of Biblical stories, the accounts
TBN airs, CBN tells, ministers on and on
Abundant joy, the site
Road to redemption
Of a growing faith population
That sign: Love Worth Finding

Hugs a young professor
An older woman in suit, dressed
Chasm in between the bodies
How close yet apart we often air
Editing the lies corridors? Full of tales
I am a slow river
Real slow river on Artists Books
The classroom? Filled with storytellers
I see they surf a lot of the web
I know they watch too much TV
But I didnt know
They read four or five novels a week
There are two to know about wood: the smell... and the texture
Knock! Knock!! Interrupting cow moo uh
I got in the Wrong bus, city bus
Wintergreen oil. Jack In The Box
What is fractures Huw h
The promise remains
Remember me on the Last Day
Who goes there? In the vacant lot. Base ball bats
Forgive us on Judgment
A man walks into a bar and says ouuuch
Jetborne spear, a slap on the thought handicap
Gift is half until it is shared
News is never until it is heard, on and on

Act II: Lunch Test

State Club Grill and Bar
Mild rock sounds, tempo bare
Medium regular coffee in hand
Graffitied walls, vend
Ere.. Old graffitied wooden benches upon
Students clear loads, conscience. On
The bars lighter side, disclaimer, riches
Traditional Dinners. Named... Sandwiches
Burgers>Childrens Menu>Order to Go, do
Refreshments. Yet, daily Specials too
Lunch test, another wrong word ruins all labored
All eateries are full of stories, flavored
All rooms are filled with stories, trail boarded

The Dow Jones is down, wrecking choices, neck wreck
The Dow Jones is up, making Choices, merry Merck
Open Ends like viewing the moon
Viewing the mind, revisiting moan
Boy>images>words<noon moon
Experiences, on and on; u uush, non
Like playing with play clay on a pay day
Hike play, like play, the pet monkey enters the bush, spree
Meanwhile, 250 Wanted to Loose Weight, buy one get one free
So many stories everywhere, everyday, but not enough space to retain them all, true.

Act III: Moonwatch

Making choices
Strong holds. Open fields
Revisited jungles, on and on

Invitation. Arise. Sermon. Mercy.
Growing faith. Devotion. Baptism. Salvation
Sermon on, on and on.. Promised land at last, rest. Rest

Viewing the other, reading from within
Words. Images. Experiences, on and on
Revision. Strong holds but the promised

Walk on water? I am a slow river
Real slow river. Slowly but surely
The World Wide Web is full of stories
Free Online access
Started talking to people
And got over it

Viewing the moon, visiting the mind
Jungle, on and on
Growing faith. Arise... on, on and on
Promised land. At last, rest
The World Wide Web may be full of stories
Free Online access? I dont get it.

Act IV: Song for Jessie Jackson

From a far way shore
They came with a big cross
Created equal, all were May flowery
And the storied proclaimed and we now amend
Thanksgiving er ... to the..well now, Native
Once in a year, 4th of the seventh month
Warms hearts
Do the storied also owe the Natives
Same Four Acres and a Mule
Blessed also the hand that receives
Mark the words! Remark, recast your words wedges
For most of those we brought upon ourselves
A people is governed not lynched
A people is governed not ruled

And when all these have passed away
Coming to take us home is somewhere within our hearts
Of pictures of homeless babies from far away lands
Jessie, do they too sing of the joys of the living
The long term subway residents
Of idling urban debris, of the hookers and the addicts
Coming out of self existence
Waiting to be adopted by loving families
Do they too sing of these songs
And the homeless babies in far way shores
Waiting to be adopted by loving families
Will they too sing of the joys
Of the pilgrims... of eternal life.

Act V: While Gone, Done

Heart, sweat, and home
When I am gone, done
Left will be these notes
Inroads into the self, undiscoverable
Heart, tears, and wholes
While I am done, gone
Right will these emigrant routes, emigrate
Seekers guide
Or they would politely simply say
Here, was a person from another town
Looking for water because he thirsted

Heat hearts, tears, and now sweets
Again, and again braying and layering
In flood coloration
When I am gone, done
Left will these tones, codes
Inroads into a self, undiscoverable
As this put, as that you thought it was that
Where will my childrens children play
Day by day, rewording and layering
While I am done, home
Heaving will these hills heel
Or they may hear the pastor retold
Not so hard to be intimate with
Persons from other shores
Or rewrite of me, she may
Of someone who wore an amour
And scaling, falling will these coats unto

Act VI: Word to Rapture

You will see
Listen! You will
Hear. Hear it loud!

In the beginning, one
Wording, forming, offering, and ordering will receive
Rich riches
Watch.... You will see
beyond open doors
Listen! You will hear it ring
Ring clear

Whistling songs of neo-beginnings
Worldly wording, reforming, and performing orbiting
Bending, pending; fending, lending; vending, wending
Rending, mending; and tending, ascending
World wide super highways
Global globalization, knowledge
False peace, end
... I beg your pardon.

Act VII: Antigravity Worker

Once a caseworker from the ruling city of the nation
Was sent to educate, and empower
The people of a chosen poor old countryhood
All their questions he answered
All their sick, even the dead he brought to life
For he was the best caseworker in the nation
He was too the most learned in the kingdom but
The hood never saw the king in His parabolic oratory

Some attested he claimed equal to the ruleR
Of the nation who sent hiM
Some falsified to be true he meant to insight the nativeS
To rebel against the traditional
Others said most were uninformeD
To apply His renaissance teaching

The hood politicians held a council
And hung Him, His bicycle, and His briefcase crown upon a dead tree

He could with His advocates fight free from the rowdy crowd
But He never did
He could radio for equipped fighters from the Headquarters
But He never did
For he was sent not to kill
but to serve the people.

Act VIII: Rolls and Sausages

Tracking a bill is like tracting public art, life
On to the hill- down the hill, polls
Passing a bill is like passing a town mall
It is like passing a ball
Three things can happen
Two of them are bad

Two things you do not want made
There are two things you do not want
To watch made
Laws and sausages

Frenzie McKenzie or
Ruly July
Could have kept her last name
Before wedlock

On to the hill
Down the hill, rolls
And we all wonder
how we all
Got here
And the Press just love it.