Inktober #28 - Pool Party

AKA The Cool One, The Pool One, Pool All, At The Pool, Pool Jam...

Yeaah... a cool one after yesterday!
Cooling off. After the wrecking rage.
Cyberdevil. Jabun with a ready-made.
EM-1... b36... this is it! This a hit!
That it is! Let us let it play, ey...

(here we go yo)

Smooth and soft. Like a Chevrolet.
Riding around these Grounds. Every day.
Fuming off the top of my head - tonsils popping and red -
But in bed I ain't!

Cold can't keep me from my music!
You speak in tunes! I hear it! I too speak!
Two sounds meet and it's truly congruant.
I view this as fucking cool. And human.

It's a movement... it's a thing that goes round!
Every year when I'm here I keep spinning my sounds!
Not nearly as much as I would like - I huff on the mic,
In a rush for a month and then - scuff to the side!

Time in the spotlight's done, with that plot I run,
Oxygen stops, blood clots and my fun drops off
For the winter as I tend to my indoor living and
Fend off the many women who want manly men with them (in my head!)

Feels like a sin to stay silent. Gotta keep speaking.
Wrecking havoc at peak times - least on the weekend,
Musique is truly a beauty - beautiful to me
Like the lush forests in North Sweden I'm elluding

When I'm here in my little row house, holed down
Notes out, prose drops dramatically when I roll South
But I gotta push that habit, I gotta jam with
My friends and fellow NG fam as often as I eat a sandwich

Is it a sin to stay silent if you're in a crowd?
Don't be violent! Open your mouth and let it out man.
World would be a better place if instead of pepperspray
We step aside and say 'you first' or 'cheers' or 'here's to better days'

Let the rage rain away with this cool...
Let the music be the tool you need to pool all feuds...
And there's no feuding in a pool man, we're truly human
When we pool together and do thangs, yeah!

...

I don't know if this flow's warm or cold!
Is ambience a wharf or a warmth in your bones?
It's unknown! It's a mystery like what Napoleon
Had in his pocket. Chapstick? Lockpick? Poems?

Maybe a locket. A memory of better days.
We all want rockets. To send us to a better place.
Like there's in outer space a mountain to raze.
Full of minerals and gold that can buy us a vase.

Our priorities are skewed like we're playing with Ames Room
It's strange how we race through life
Like our strife's just spacial, surfacial
Superficial like Pilates compared to say Plato, yeah....

And do we join Nato? What's an artist for?
If not to paint a little nuance on the art of war?
I'd rather chill and level up my Gardevoir
In my bedroom while the Martians storm, and start reforms

Maybe if we know we're comparatively dumb
And aliens can flatten our planet with just a thumb
We'll be just a little humbled, and sit around as one
Pool party y'all. Pool all of our glum and just...

Be happy we're alive huh! Jabba the Hut survivors! Fake idols to bridals!
Beanies and waterbottles. Stop relying on the lotto! If you are. Work hard. That's my motto!
And Jabun killing it with the groovebox! KORG EM-1, live jam! My man! Hella fun!
Feel like I'm sitting on an elaphant. What a ride - what I relish - what a vibe!

Smooth still, let it sliiide...

Yeaaah! Cyberdevil. Jabun.

Woo.