A Bud Has Bloomed

Oh oh oh how grand, a bud has bloomed here in the sand. It grows low against the land and it takes whatever dew it can. Weaker ones burst all around in droves in groves and richer ground. Careless breeze and honeybee, some seedlings fly into the sea.

{Oh oh oh how kind your nature was then at the time love was sewn in dimming light but you told me it would be alright. Was it nature on its course that choked us, cut us from the source? Or was that watershed not deep as you had led me to believe?}

Every morn and every night, blooms are born to sweet delight, and each night and every morn, some to misery are born. Some to misery are born.

Oh oh oh how fine the animal poems she’d sing in the night, so I should never mourn a light bathed in and burned in and known all right. The dew from her brimming eye, the blossom seized to keep alive and it lived low a little life.

{Oh oh oh how strange that you would find no place for blame, just a draught, the play of fate, not the seed of doubt allowed to germinate in a greenhouse not a grove, it was careful hands that helped it grow. They callous from their honest work, yours hid secrets in the dirt.}

Every morn and every night, {our hearts were still}, Blooms are born to sweet delight {Some sit upon a sill} and each night and every morn {They await the dew} Some to misery are born. Some to misery are born {As I once waited for you}.

 See the way men beg for you like the tides? Pulling at your legs, violent and malign I have used my waves, my weight, my might While you wade in them safe, keeping your hair dry.

 {Nature does not deceive, It does not lead to believe. Fertile or plagued with weeds, soil is honest in everything.}

Ache For Joy

The fear of death is a disease,
It belongs in knowable degrees.
It belongs when the conveyors freeze,
And you are stuck in the machine.
Death sits in the center aisle.
To the aweless he presents a smile.
Sometimes, to the agonized, he presents a cup,
And greedily they take it up,
And they take it down and join with soil,
Quiet soil to be trod.
Troubles at end, the ground is loyal.
A friend in death, like breath of God.
The chilling thing is not the strike,
But a healthy limb blackened with blight.
The venom’s spread needs a healthy vein,
As does the heel to crush the snake.

In loss of all, there is no loss.
Without possession, there can be no cost.
So I say fear to fail a friend,
I say let the sucker live to fear the end,
As he sits in a chair and he drinks and it fends
Off the ache to make joy, in place play and pretend
Off the knowing that knowing is his flash in the pan.
And what all can he do? We all do what we can,
While the dark day comes one day closer at hand.
It’s a story for the worm, it’s a flag in the sand.
I know his disgrace like the back of my hand.
I take pride in it now, and that I don’t understand
Keeps me alone in the room begging you give me a hand…


I woke up with a gun in my bed behind bars of shadows, the sunbeams bled in. I must have crept through Arthur’s room in the night. Heavy in hand, I’d put up a hot-blooded fight. I broke his heart like the bricks of Sodom because pillars of salt keep my food from rotting. I pray for silence from the god above us and on and on and on and on I keep talking. On and on and on and on.

Prick of thistle in every step, so I’ll step lighter if I can. Face the sky and the father’s back. I put the north at mine and take a shaded path. Love for foe transcends love for friend because an enemy shows his coat color and his intent. I pray for solace from the burning land and on and on and on and on I keep on circling. And on and on and on and on I keep on circling.

And on and on and on and on.

Into the Teeth

Are there strange bodies overhead? Are they the raised bodies of the dead? While some fiery tongues slowly spread and lie in wait beneath my bed.

My father spoke with a righteous breath, and he asked if I feared the undying death and the weight of our failure in my inborn debt to an unseen providence.

Well, I tried my best to be the good sheep but I just wasn’t blessed with a thick enough fleece to ward off the winter for my soul to keep and the flock keeps on moving.

So I’ll join with the starving lions instead and I’ll pace back and forth with them deep in our den and I’ll feed on the weak ones that wander in and hope that shepherd comes to find them.

Deliver me into the teeth. Oh Deity, I fear thee.

I’ve learned of a love, a strange love from above that came as a flood before it came as a dove and I’m not sure which my dim soul’s made of but I think it needs to lighten up.

So light it up, light it up and fill up my cup and I’ll let it shine like my minds made up so I’ll become a balloon when the line gets cut, I hope he says I’ve done enough.

Deliver me into the teeth. Oh Deity, I fear thee.

Give us our lamps and a thirst. We take on the yoke and the curse. We give up our ghosts from the dirt for your categories; for your categories; for the power and the glory.

Are there strange bodies overhead? Are they the raised bodies of the dead? While some fiery tongues slowly spread and lie in wait beneath my bed.

Talkeetna (Demo Version)

My love climbed up over me and Canada, back to where river and mountain coddle her. And cold ghost light besets the night and drives it out. My love climbed up over me and waits there now.

I chose, I let you go on alone, I planted my feet. But I’ll cut the roots and come for you in Talkeetna

My love shines up at her like a lighthouse beam. But it’s I, not she, adrift and I will lift over the seams. And a cold force spreading stars apart does so to hearts. My love shines up at her and could reach as far.

A rose, the wind your grace is in, it filled up in me, but I’ll cut the roots and come for you in Talkeetna.

I will hold you soon. You’re now eternal, too.

We Hunters

I swear to God I’m a humble fisherman and you’re the catch of the year. So line my table with love and I’ll swear to protect you, my dear. I once watched the water glisten as it left your polished scales. How long did it take to prepare yourself for all these ravenous males?

We build a great ship and filled it with our shit; we’re gonna prove that our shit don’t exist. Because then we’ll drown it; feed it to the fish and choke all the sea-life on good promises.

Why are you fighting this way? Don’t you love me the way I do? I do. I’ll be gentle when I rip you apart, I just want to get inside of you, until there’s nothing but a husk exposed in the dusk’s sweet, salty air. So hush, baby, hush and feel my blood rush as I run my hands through your hair.

A man’s got to eat so he learns how to fish. He dresses his lure so that fish can’t resist. And the bigger and stronger the fight in the fins, the wider the arms when that fisherman wins. She gave me a bite and the whole boat shook. She’d been taken by my worn down line with a hook. I clenched my jaw tight, gripped with muscle and pride but that fish overcame me, pulled me over the side. Down into the darkening depths I was swept, but I’d grip that pole tight with all the strength I had left, because we hunters are rightful gods of the sea and no fish underneath will get the better of me.

Then my mind went dark, for the surface I fled, but my heart became anchor, my body was lead. It seemed I’d gotten myself in over my head. Well, I took in the water and fell toward the bed.

I feel my body understand. I see the fisherman of man, he holds out an out-streched hand to say: “you’ve failed, and I tried to balm your wounds, I tried to balm your wounds.”

I smiled, I gave up too soon.

We build a great ship, filled it with our shit, choked all the sea-live on good promises.


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