Archive for December, 2006

WWHRD2?

Wednesday, December 6th, 2006

“Somewhere someone is thinking of you. Someone is calling you an angel. This person is using celestial colors to paint your image. Someone is making you into a vision so beautiful that it can only live in the mind. Someone is thinking of the way your breath escapes your lips when you are touched. How your eyes close and your jaw tightens with concentration as you give pleasure a home. These thoughts are saving a life somewhere right now. In some airless apartment on a dark, urine stained, whore lined street, someone is calling out to you silently and you are answering without even being there. So crystalline. So pure. Such life saving power when you smile. You will never know how you have cauterized my wounds. So sad that we will never touch. How it hurts me to know that I will never be able to give you everything I have.”

-Henry Rollins

Only Skin

Wednesday, December 6th, 2006

night-sky-aurora.JPG

And there was a booming above you
That night, black airplanes flew over the sea
And they were lowing and shifting like
Beached whales
Shelled snails
As you strained and you squinted to see
The retreat of their hairless and blind cavalry

You froze in your sand shoal
Prayed for your poor soul
Sky was a bread roll, soaking in a milk-bowl
And when the bread broke, fell in bricks of wet smoke
My sleeping heart woke, and my waking heart spoke

Then there was a silence you took to mean something:
Run, sing
For alive you will evermore be
And the plague of the greasy black engines a-skulkin’
Has gone east
While you’re left to explain them to me
Released from their hairless and blind cavalry

With your hands in your pockets, stubbily running
To where I’m unfresh, undressed and yawning
Well, what is this craziness? This crazy talking?
You caught some small death when you were sleepwalking

It was a dark dream, darlin’, it’s over
The firebreather is beneath the clover
Beneath his breathing there is cold clay, forever
A toothless hound-dog choking on a feather

But I took my fishingpole (fearing your fever)
Down to the swimminghole, where there grows bitter herb
That blooms but one day a year by the riverside - i’d bring it here:
Apply it gently
To the love you’ve lent me

While the river was twisting and braiding, the bait bobbed
And the string sobbed, as it cut through the hustling breeze
And I watched how the water was kneading so neatly
Gone treacly
Nearly slowed to a stop in this heat
- frenzy coiling flush along the muscles beneath

Press on me: we are restless things
Webs of seaweed are swaddling
You call upon the dusk
Of the musk of a squid
Shot full of ink, until you sink into your crib

Rowing along, among the reeds, among the rushes
I heard your song, before my heart had time to hush it!
Smell of a stone fruit being cut and being opened
Smell of a low and of a lazy cinder smoking

And when the fire moves away
Fire moves away, son
Why would you say
I was the last one?

Scrape your knee; it is only skin
Makes the sound of violins
When I cut your hair, and leave the birds the trimmings
I am the happiest woman among all women

And the shallow
Water
Stretches as far as I can see
Knee-deep, trudging along
A seagull weeps; “so long”

I’m humming a threshing song
Until the night is over
Hold on!
Hold on!
Hold your horses back from the fickle dawn

I have got some business out at the edge of town
Candy weighing both of my pockets down
‘Til I can hardly stay afloat, from the weight of them
(and knowing how the common-folk condemn
What it is I do, to you, to keep you warm
Being a woman, being a woman)

But always up the mountainside you’re clambering
Groping blindly, hungry for anything:
Picking through your pocket linings - well, what is this?
Scrap of sassafras, eh sisyphus?

I see the blossoms broke and wet after the rain
Little sister, he will be back again
I have washed a thousand spiders down the drain
Spiders ghosts hang soaked and dangelin’
Silently from all the blooming cherry trees
In tiny nooses, safe from everyone
- nothing but a nuisance; gone now, dead and done
Be a woman, be a woman!

Though we felt the spray of the waves
We decided to stay till the tide rose too far
We weren’t afraid, cause we know what you are
And you know that we know what you are

Awful atoll
O, incalculable indiscreetness and sorrow!
Bawl, bellow:
Sibyl sea-cow, all done up in a bow

Toddle and roll;
Teeth an impalpable bit of leather
While yarrow, heather and hollyhock
Awkwardly molt along the shore

Are you mine?
My heart?
Mine anymore?

Stay with me for awhile
That’s an awfully real gun
I know life will lay you down
As the lightning has lately done

Failing this, failing this,
Follow me, my sweetest friend
To see what you anointed in pointing your gun there

Lay it down! Nice and slow!
There is nowhere to go, save up
Up where the light, undiluted, is weaving in a drunk dream
At the sight of my baby, out back:
Back on the patio watching the bats bring night in
- while, elsewhere, estuaries of wax-white
Wend, endlessly, towards seashores unmapped

Last week our picture window produced a half-word
Heavy and hollow, hit by a brown bird
We stood and watched her gape like a rattlesnake
And pant and labour over every intake

I said a sort of prayer for some sort of rare grace
Then thought I ought to take her to a higher place
Said: “dog nor vulture nor cat shall toy with you
And though you die, bird, you will have a fine view”

Then in my hot hand
She slumped her sick weight
We tramped through the poison oak
Heartbroke and inchoate

The dogs were snapping
So you cuffed their collars
While I climbed the tree-house
Then how I hollered!
Cause she’d lain, as still as a stone, in my palm, for a lifetime or two

Then, saw the treetops, cocked her head and up and flew
(while, back in the world that moves, often
According to the hoarding of these clues
Dogs still run roughly around
Little tufts of finch-down)

The cities we passed were a flickering wasteland
But his hand in my hand made them hale and harmless
While down in the lowlands the crops are all coming;
We have everything
Life is thundering blissful towards death
In a stampede of his fumbling green gentleness

You stopped by, I was all alive
In my doorway, we shucked and jived
And when you wept, I was gone:
See, I got gone when I got wise
But I can’t with certainty say we survived

Then down, and down
And down, and down
And down, and deeper
Stoke without sound
The blameless flames
You endless sleeper

Through fire below, and fire above, and fire within
Sleeped through the things that couldn’t have been if you hadn’t have been

And when the fire moves away
Fire moves away, son
Why would you say
I was the last one?

All my bones they are gone, gone, gone
Take my bones, I don’t need none
Cold, cold cupboard, lord, nothing to chew on!
Suck all day on a cherry stone

Dig a little hole, not three inches round
Spit your pit in the hole in the ground
Weep upon the spot for the starving of me!
Till up grow a fine young cherry tree

Well when the bough breaks, what’ll you make for me?
A little willow cabin to rest on your knee
What’ll I do with a trinket such as this?
Think of your woman, who’s gone to the west

But I’m starving and freezing in my measly old bed!
Then i’ll crawl across the salt flats to stroke your sweet head
Come across the desert with no shoes on!
I love you truly, or I love no-one

Fire
Moves
Away

Fire moves away, son
Why would you say
I was the last one?

Clear the room! There’s a fire, a fire, a fire
Get going, and I’m going to be right behind you
And if the love of a woman or two, dear,
Couldn’t move you to such heights, then all I can do
Is do, my darling, right by you

WWHRD?

Wednesday, December 6th, 2006

“It is no surprise to me that hardly anyone tells the truth about how they feel. The smart ones keep themselves to themselves for good reason. Why would you want to tell anyone anything that’s dear to you? Even when you like them and want nothing more than to be closer than close to them? It’s so painful to be next to someone you feel strongly about and know you can’t say the things you want to.”

-Henry Rollins

Towers and Landslides

Wednesday, December 6th, 2006

devilstower_small.jpg

I come down
Pushed around
Oh Lord, shower me lonely
Piss on me love
Piss on me love
Now I’m alone

But today
Jug bone dry
Maybe new milk tomorrow
But that would be quite inconsistent
As of late

It’s so unlike me
Let someone break me down inside
I maybe should define lines
That I should not cross
The path of least resistance is lost
And I go pushing
Thrashing, waging one man war

Towers and landslides
Shadow the grand prize
I’m not gonna see you

Life in a lighthouse
Bright as a knockout
I’m not gonna see you around

Made Up Dreams

Tuesday, December 5th, 2006

branches.jpg

These thoughts are old
Let’s keep it cold
Dry lines on me
Dry history
Dryology

That stupid sound
That awful feel
Don’t bring them down
And it never will
No it never will
No it never will
No it never will

Hard to believe
That after all this time
That after all this I’m
Still me

No one wants to hear
What you dreamt about unless you dreamt about them
Don’t let that stop you
Tell them anyway
And you can make it up as you go
I’m already gone now
You were outside just waiting
I’m already nothing
You just noticed me fading
It takes a lot to make me crazy
And a lot is always going on

ROFL, Then punch me….

Tuesday, December 5th, 2006

“Your biggest concern over the following weeks may involve finding the right mixture of enthusiasm and caution as you vacillate between moving forward with your career aspirations and retreating into the safety of your home. Your best strategy may be to avoid final decisions. Let the stress inspire you to move in a new direction, even while circumstances continue to slow you down.”

Jackie and Will

Monday, December 4th, 2006

jackie_and_will.jpg

Jackie and Will are together again.
Forever again.

That makes me wonder what we are.
It’s never been said.
I’m just sharing your bed.

Sometimes words seem unnecessary
Think you know, just how I feel?
What’s goin’ on is not ordinary.
Makes the past seem quite unreal.

Jackie and Will are together again.

Northern Line

Monday, December 4th, 2006

northern_line_small.jpg

Drop myself down on the northern line
Thoughts in my head are yours, not mine
Closing my eyes will replay the scene
I think what you say is not what you mean

I don’t like the way that it’s come and go
Don’t want your life played out in stereo
Don’t want your life played out in stereo

We hide away and know it’s a shame.
I know it’s a shame.
And I can’t decide if I’ve made up my mind
Or if I’m just losing it

Sun fills my eyes as last night becomes this morning,
as last night becomes this morning.