I Know I Would Die If I Could Come Back New

Even when you don't like it
Even when it's all garbage
Even when the pale, sorry sky
Fights the inevitable darkness
Only to lose what it always does

The children we've become after
Tantrums and trauma
Could we actually remedy these
Happy holes with warm skin,
High thread counts, and wings

Even when we're older
Even as the coats arrive
Even when you tell yourself
It's still in tune, I'll survive
Only to hear the final mix...

And they'll all believe
Whatever they want
The fall guy remains with stars
In his head and guitars newly threaded
Some sole on his back where they tread

Cause you know me, I come back when you want me to.




Not really sure how I feel about this one, but after mulling it over for sometime I figured it's worth a post. Thank you music for being you. I will repay you one day...

K something...

So when I imagine having the ability to do the things that I love at optimal proficiency, I try to forget my mentor's voice telling me, "well, you sound just as good as [the best] you just gotta perfect it". There's a fear of arrogance which comes along with my intense fear of letting people down. Looking at this man's sowing kit, the mountains of bread and pastries, listening to the refrigerator hum and the High Llamas traverse murky melodies. Murky and bright. You don't see them together much. Unless it's winter. A friend said to me, "hey brutha, sorry, but I got ALL your coats and some other things [you will need]." He would though, knowing him and what I allow, he would. But I see these funny things when I look at him and when I walk past a group of fun loving friends. Search deeper than you intended to...whatever you consider impossible could just be unseeable. On the train to VA, she was telling me about her son. "If you're ever in Philly, we should do something." I at the time had a free schedule and no inclinations of going to Philly. But none against either. I had just dropped 130lbs and was finally able to breathe. She didn't know what she wanted, I wasn't looking. But I still feel like 2008 could have worked out differently. Not Philly, not Massachusetts, maybe California. When I finally touched down there was a homecoming feeling. Do you ever get the feeling that intangibles like stigmas and auras travel? Maybe even follow you? It may not be a terribly interesting thing to discuss, but I feel that way. On the Amtrak, in California, she/it was trying to rescue me. I held it like my family and it squirmed in my hands as if to keep my gaze. Maybe I think too low of myself, perhaps too highly. I have no idea, and will probably make no true efforts to comprehend. I don't know why I'm sharing this with you.

D.C.

I thought I was going backwards
and the figments were in fractions
that's my name...yea, that's my name
the one down front
they never taught you about
two lumps please
and leave the garnish out
that's my name...yea,that's my name

But when I wake up most times
and find the spins crossed with dotted eyes
It's hard to remember tall brick
Industrial parks waiver in comparison
to parched throats, bellies
RUMBLE!!

Keep it low next time you talk to Cliff
He's only good for veering off the subject
and talking in endless circles
Down
into that deep part you would rather none of them know
Go back to school to greet the fabric
hung in green to eliminate
everything around it.

This machine sounds like a song
Touch the pedal, sing along
This machine's like something wrong
Touch the pedal, sing along

Re: Norton Common

To Norton,

I know about the baskets
I read about them
I know

My voice seemed strange and overwhelming
Running from green and reaching for gray
I told him, I says, "you cream puff..."
The top of my head was not my face then

How did those prophetic fourth graders seek counsel
amongst triplets, golf prodigies, bruised souls, and plaqued teeth
N.early E.xited S.tations around the corner
gave birth to the commuters
We were none the wiser

Sounds feuded in the basement
Nude scientists made sense of their odd creations
This could fly, that could bend fire, she was there
Always there, seemingly, as soon as you let her be

"I packed my suitcase and threw it away"

And God knew I had seen the end of the day
At Virgin Record stores, the original Newbury
Neo New England

Oh Norton
The gas station told us our fortune
And we played along oddly like forked spoons
Leopard Skin, let the record spin...




So this one is in response to another poem by an extremely talented writer whose blog is called "The Machine Must Speak For Itself"...find him, read the "letter to E. Sherman" then read the rest of his poems...a true artist/writer he is...pure and true.

The TV Don't

Fleeting White Snow. Last recollection involved a discussion between two female contestants about who looked more like a man. I don't find time for it, it doesn't miss me. So when I first thought to live on my own, I remembered my old apartment. What a great place. I couldn't pay for it AND live decently, but it was mine, I had furniture, it was fine. It was better than that. I didn't get my first visitor until 6 months in. Nick Vittas... I spun whatever records I wanted to, I recorded whatever/whenever I wanted to, I watched movies if I wanted to. My domain. I had friends who were excited to come over and never made it. I know you don't care, but PLEASE don't show it. And my job, which had been my dream since High Fidelity, was manager of a used CD store. Life was full of bitchin' about the things I now long for most. Peace, regretless nights, comfortable solitude. No legs without my consent. I woke up one morning, well rested, and walked out onto my balcony feeling the day off. Hopped on the bus and visited my sister who lived two towns away. I'd go visit: laugh, watch movies, talk about progression, talk about the culture, listen to good music loudly. I made the decision to move because everyone at that time could be trusted. I trusted the wrong people with my heart and lost everything. It's a trend I've yet to give up on. I'm starting to think it's not an accident. But the TV don't. The TV, when we're alone, shows me what I've been missing. My head kicks back and my heart steps into the hot tub. Life is automated once again. I visited a friend when I went back to my hometown. She watched music videos ALL DAY LONG! I thought, "what a way to live. The television helped raise you and you still haven't left it's side. You'll never forsake it. What loyalty!" I got up and went back to my parents' house. I sat in their living room where my dad had bought a new HD television and entertainment center. I sat in front of that thinking about when I lost control and balled my eyes out at his 50th birthday. How the juxtaposition of my loneliness and the intense love surrounding me just pushed me to burst. Then the TV came on. I knew this would be good...On Demand!! I could sit and watch movies, reruns, instructional videos. Whatever I want when I want!! Isn't that what we all want!

I'm At Work...

...don't leave no message after no beep...

The Disconnect

"...then all your life will be alright to fly away Forever more."

Flag pole through his chest
Chest beating against the metal
"I'll never return to Shangri-La"
But sometimes, every so often
I hear the mediocrity

"Her insignia adorned the flag"
When people write like that
I often wonder how much disconnection one must have with themselves
To consider writing
But to see the disconnect as connection
"Click..."

The first time I rode
your bike I felt safe.
The seat was different than mine
The handles didn't turn
"Don't be afraid, you're not afraid..."
The gears shifted smoothly (which is honestly rare)
Your honesty was rare

I realize now that I've lost sight of true love
Nothing embodies the image,
So I keep looking to my left
To my right, from my perspective, is looking back
This loss has formed my last of couple years
A chaos...chows

For what it's worth, I really do miss innocence

Post One: A Baseball Oddity

I've felt for sometime that making music is the most accessible method of expression for me. I now realize that this fact is strange...I free float:

With all these guarantees
Shift and drift
that's the way we'll show them.
"When I first learned to drift in a car..."
She was amazed...engaged in her own tale.

With all this forever
Weeping and Landing
I can't imagine showing anyone anything
Then...again...
I remain shocked...silence

Wondering: Do they/she really like this??

Wondering but not allowing it to overtake
Me.
I remember those long drives
You sure were romantic
I'll contribute
Please Give Back
For S.A.I.L.
S.O.S....S.O.S.....S.O.S.