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Dilettante Nomad
Dilettante Nomad
Author: Dilettante Nomad
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Blaise C from BeMore, Spoken Word Artist and Business Leader returns to his roots as a Radio Host bringing a new element of excitement to story telling, motivation and discovering music. The unique flair of conversation takes the listener inside the mind of the host and guests as you weave through a soundscape of moods.
74 Episodes
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Made a quick beat and wrote a quick jam for Halloween.
A quick little poem spit during this quarantine.
BC drives in Houston releasing the feelings on the current pandemic we're living through.
This track was written and recorded December 23rd 2015 while I was stuck home with a broken ankle. The heavy news at the time was unarmed black men getting killed by police all over the country; most of the time the cops were not getting arrested for their actions of murder...this was my response, and things haven't changed much.
Champagne pops
To kill the pain like cops slaying another black teen
STOP
unnamed
unarmed
keep’em in chains, hoodies and barbed wire fences
lock’em in a yard like a dog that’s reckless
protect us not by fear and force
We here have lost our hopes in high courts
our justice has faults
they’re playing like sports
fussing and fighting
knighted for lost bodies
if it’s night, toss the body in the ditch
and unload a clip in the kid for giving lip like he did
He spoke up to the limp dick bitch with a badge
How can we fight a battle that’s matched unfair?
dispatched
send more units like flair
they fire them up
hired, tenured, retired
for what?
who are they serving when they’re programmed like servents to focus their purpose on numbers to hurt us?
quota counting, donut eating, soda drinking hounds
round’em up, the innocent victims, throw’em in the pound
they get paid by weight
scale’em, skin’em
‘they've been failing from the beginning, it’s their fate’
so they wail’em and kick’em
they’ve been ailing from the sickness and they can’t escape
this viscous cycle is vital to life
the squad has their rifles and they’re ready to shoot tonight
loot your life
loot for life
i got no loot
i got no life
we need roots like Toby’s trife
it’s trite it’s like “It’s normal, right?”
it’s regular news, it’s just everyday life
From ISIS to Ice Kids
PD to Vice Grips
Mike Tyson can’t fight this violence from night Crips
Blood drips down a telephone pole
Not even ET can make his call home
stop the violence
stop the greed
they’re both a by-product from watching capitalist TV
factual viewings of refugees left by society
grant Immunity, Amnesty, freedom from tyranny
tiredly I ironically am tired of fighting too
but lately I’ve noticed that it frightens you
get off your fucking couch and demand back your liberties
unite together, Black, White, Syrian, Mexican, Any oppressed alien
of any thespian ally
All of US
make a statement that 99% is done with this shit
stop killing us with blood money you dumb prick
cuz this private dick will slip into slit and bust some shit
I’m a fucking gumshoe stuck on my heels
but your hands up, cuz im gunning for real
Buca Buca boo buca, bu buca buca blah
If ultimate peace is the answer?
why do we listen to bullying banter
even schools are eliminating antlers
we should be hopeful for no postal disasters
you cannot achieve peace with war as the answer
animosity will brew under nervous laughter
cuz they’re plotting revenge to avenge ancestors
they’re invested
we're conflicted
ive protested, and i’ve shifted
I’ve been lifted, i’ve been level, i’ve been balanced and i’ve been disheveled
the devil tests our treble with our actions
how we act in trouble with our tactics
if we’re attacking or practical
acting logical with coherent thoughts is rational
passionate proletariat
they capture white flags from territories
terror and gory
im better with glory
an inventor of underdog stories
30 plus years with a hustle
historians ruffle through pages like “His story is outrageous, right?”
courageous
i’ve jumped through flames and made it
i’ve played the game and changed it
chained and been in cages
change is in the wages
trains have been raided
i’ve reigned as a sovereign tasteless ruler
but ive seen the light in being selfless is cooler
ive worn many masks
ive done many tasks
and if had many people ask “Why I Roam?”
I want a universal home from Key West to New York to Miami to Rome
Texas, Vegas, Barcelona, Madrid
We’ve finally made it like cajuns and pagans
slayed many demons
accept the peace kid
respect to each kid
B.C spits a 2020 piece and asks the audience to contribute stories and send them to DilettanteNomad@gmail.com
It’s Elementary
Winthrop where i Win throw up
Migrains crushing my skull to no end
running to the rest room
graduate into mushrooms
dangers in the next room
manger haven, next moon
My favorite thing to do is Doing nothing
talk a little shit, play stick ball or running---
---to the corner, playing hey mister
Manhunting to dinner, playing school skipper
Jack the Ripper, Grim the reaper
bricks through a windshield of the women beater
teenager waging wars, pagers going off
dating little whores, late first period, aborting baby talk
Sex ed lessons, head next session
stressing over bush and Gory elections
how much you benching?
friday night mescaline
saturday wrestling
Monday test, i’ll pass guessing
Messed up, scholar-slave-ships students to NCAA’s
Every meeting starts with my name and the addiction I play
they’re all ears like dumbo’s
a circus full of rodeo’s
high, I’m eating oreo’s
wash it with a 40 - yo
same sad story - street kids do
hardly a consistent crew (pause)
too many soldiers lost to the shit we do…
It’s elementary
All the kids yelling
ally kids fighting
all the kids running
all are uniting
All that I see
Always keep fighting
all the kids running
ally kids unite
Universally we’re at universities
debt to my knees rolling up trees
blowing breezes out from the vanilla dutchee mouthpiece
bounced to the south to the west keys
resting, in nothing more than peace
a bottle of rum from the west indies.
Indo - I’m like Scrooge McDuck
every funeral crying “What the Fuck?”
stuck in a K-Hole searching for gold
truck breaking down on the side of the road
I guess I’ll set up camp with my kerosene lamp
free bases stole when the pitcher commits a bag
now i can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t do nothing
i met a special lady that reminds me “I’m Something"
I need a fresh start to control my beat heart
one more skip and I might just depart
Texting, Texas, mindless sex
NYLA’s in the oven and I need to protect
my family, damn me rambling.
I need to be a boss of this god damned gambling
Only risk I’m taken’s on me
I need to prove the world I’m more than elementary
Damn me, the risk is on me
proving more and more,
It’s elementary
This track is somewhere around 10-12 years old. I was cleaning up some disc space and found this track called "Spilt Beer". This may have been coming off an alter-ego I was going by when I lived in Albany New York BeerFeet.
Last month I was in San Antonio and found this little rant on my recorder about 9/11 and a shirtless man bathing elephants.
B.C stops by a goodwill before heading to San Antonio from Houston. He picks up a new rig for his recorder and spits some non-sense that began that morning.
Ambassadors by Dilettante Nomad
First part of a conversation with someone with different views on the world.
A tour guide takes us through old Mayan lands and legends.
Found a piece of writing and I read and recorded it real quick - no edits - I meant it when I said it. Errors included.
Tracking the cause and effect to better yourself and the world. Recognizing Patient Zero and where the epidemic (good, bad or indifferent) begin... Get to the roots.
B.C jumps on a new opportunity and decides this is going to be the last year being broke. Time to elevate performance to the next level without turning back.
B.C describes the business term 'apples to apples' and how ineffective this phrase is on decision making. We all are unique to some degree with our services and expectations. Find the one that suits your needs doing due diligence.
Break through your fears to be the best version of you! Roll the dice and follow your heart.
B.C sits in the camelback mountains and contemplates.
On Tuesday March 5th my wife donated her kidney to her father, I write a poem and gain perspective in the waiting room as the sole representative for both parties while surrounded with multiple family members from other patients around me.
B.C takes you into his life since May of 2018 through this past Friday February 15th's car fire that sent him and his children running from a near death experience.




