.
madness comes to the mind
as cold comes to the limbs
in sweet smiles and old stars
like shivers after dark
.
oh row, oh row, and row
to crest atop the wave
where only dawn has trode
and glimpse at what is theirs
.
welcome to an abode
of grandiose empty white
here muddy Melopée
retraces silent steps
.
corridor upon corridor
of elegant thresholds
perhaps tis in repeat
that we shall find the new
.
ice ice maybe
none wrong go
.
i’m a slut and you’re my bed
let me lie upon your head
split your skull devour your dreams
tear your sheet apart the seams
please let me see these insiders
oh let me crawl in your spiders
dip the matress throw the covers
only originals for us lovers
be my pillow be my princess
through crumbling kingdoms of excess
take the fall paint it red
do remember what i said
a hundred sheep along the stream
into the arms of morpheme
a tongue sharpened along the wood
can only do so much good
i’m a slut and you’re my bed
why can’t i wake up instead
lay me down and let me breathe
perhaps i’ll wear this silken wreath
.
silence is golden but a slip of the tongue makes you shiver
.
burrowed into their hole
swallowed unceremoniously
by the darker of night
they shiver and quiver
and cannot help but hope
that somehow their prayers
shall be heard and answered
and that they may be
in time returned in kind
but they cannot remember
what at all they used to be
.
oh they can still hear the notes
and murmur a few words
broken verses of an old song
carrying truth through the season
spreading warmth through the winter
filling their full before the summer
.
they are bright and strong
able and bodied,
puzzled by their own mastermind
but they cannot remember
what at all they used to be
.
as they fall prey to sleep
as they run and flee
wild in the colours only souls can shine
full of life and longing
for what they used to be
they cannot remember at all
.
a cold white field rests silent
above this citadel of spirits
unresting, unrested, uninterested
when they see the shadows
and they read in the fleeting ink
in broken words and murmured notes
at the brim of the stage
just beyond the deathly rempart
destiny’s unequivocal soliloquy
.
and they yearn, and they cry
and they burn, and they try
to remember how to understand
how they could be again
what they never were quite able to be
what they saw reflected
in the shivering fresh water
just below the icy mirror
but they are hooked to the lines
that will sink them to the floor
afloat while the rain pours still
as the call of the deep
offers to swallow the fear
of what they used to be
that they cannot yet remember
.
it is yet the science of it all to question
a madness lined in gold
.
I’ve wine in my veins
So when I bro with the guys
I forget I’m missing you
I’ve thorns in my pains
‘Cause everybody lies
And I know exactly who
I’ve holes in my hands
So when I close my eyes
I can see right through you
I’ve got tears in my commands
‘Cause there’s only so many tries
That can achieve so few
.
I’ll never have the wings as white
As the clouds that conceal your shame
And you’ll never be able to understand quite
What it is to never feel the same
.
I’m the man of the house, put the bread on the table
I’m the man with no spouse, the never quite able
I’m the man in a blouse, the mentally unstable
I’m the man or the mouse, never far from trouble,
I’m the man gone to drowse, currently unavailable
.
I’ve blood in my stains
And bone in my brands
I’ve worms in my brains
And twelve lost in this land
It isn’t sugar in these grains
What then weaves my long strands
My love works in hurricanes
Filling their lungs with sands
Until they gouge my eyes
Until they burn my pews
Until they gild my spy
Until they get to you
.
Cross my heart, nail it to the post
Kiss me, kill me
Let my shadow into the cave
Early morning or late night,
Always around half past three
Look at me strut, follow where I walk
Look at me dance and learn the talk
Designer toga, lonely one ever made
It’s a Turin, lets me throw shade
.
There is a God in me,
Only one they can see,
I can feel it gnawing
As the end is drawing
Yearning for your mouth;
I am my own maker,
A lone star in the south
Incestuous moonraker
Mystical nobody,
I wonder what mother sees in me
.
One last testament of my youth.
.
you’ve got words on your hands
that you don’t show
you’ve got dreams in your hands
that you don’t know
there is something in your voice
that lures me out to see
something about the shape
you leave
in the space between voices
something after the shape
you cleave
in the waste between choices
and I am wrecked before reaching the reef
sails broken by breathlessness
barely able to hope for the relief
that I may float adrift
along a few waves more
condemned to cross the rift
removing me from shore
I should prefer to drown in meandering depths
hand-woven death shaped into a crown
You’ve got birds in your hands
that you keep close
You’ve got seams on your hands
that you still sew
there is something in that choice
some retruthed fallacy
I feel it in the steps you need
to breathe
in the race between choices
in these flowers of grape
you wreathe
in the taste between voices
and there I feel knighted holy
at the edge of the forecourt of a cathedral
revered in name only
by what power can dredge a bloody thread hall
see Lucifer recast
rebranded, rebooted
Ulysses to their mast
forever song-rooted
you’ve got slurred to your brands
and worlds begin to schtick
you’ve got thirds to understand
while ours begin to trick
the moment till daybreak
called to sunder the silence in the night
dream-burning gaze on sight
the moment when I wake
.
hello please thank you goodbye
I know these drank few would lie
.
I need to pee
I need a drink
And the rest should be fine
I need the sea
I need to think
And the rest should be fine
I want a bed
Perhaps a pillow
And the rest should be fine
I lay my head
Beneath a willow
And the rest should be fine
I could be strong
I could be brave
And the rest should be fine
I shall lie long
Within this grave
And the rest should be fine
.
As tranquil as the sleeper in the vale.
.
let the voyage be long
through the dark and the cold
let the stars howl their song
in the deepest silence
float this inky sea
slowly dripping ether
a lone forget-me-not
oh when passes the king
and finally crests the wave
I have dreamt of the wild
Saturn at last
.
such beautiful science
a letter in the post
a melting of all sold
an island off the coast
perhaps I am ici
or perhaps anywhere
and still I keep the knot
tying back to this thing
that I regret I gave
never thought it so mild
Saturn at last
.
three more to go
until the last unturned stone
two plus au plus tôt
and then I’m all alone
et quand j’étais petit
je rêvais d’un enfer
où toujours je pianote
remember the princeling?
how he came to engrave
the way my words are styled
Saturn at last
.
owe it to the how
.
if i die young
bury me in sand
lay me down on a
bed of roses
sink me in the river
at dawn
send me away
with the words of a love song
.
let the world offer
a helping hand
and let it devour
the rest of my soul
may i flow away
in a heart not yet sleeping
erode like the gentle hum
of a mother on her child
.
offer my soul to the sun
to be ashened dry
until moon and stars
flood the red embers
if i die young
let my ship never strand
and float the dreams of me
until they last no more
.
“It is in the awe of the sea that I wish to lie.”
.
You grow on me, Ivy
Like leaves on a wall
Like a fine german liqueur
Like a six seconds video
You grow on me, Ivy
You grow on me
You grow ever longer,
Ever flourished
Ever wronger
And I drink you in
A sweet poison
Honey dipped in cyanide
And happiness evercome
.
You grow on me, Ivy
Like a late night call
Like a green jay but sweeter
Like fried bacon at a rodeo
You grow on me, Ivy
You grow me on
You grow ever stronger
Ever cherished
Ever wronger
And I bring you in
My suite person
Rosy-lipped speak what I hide
Your sappiness fuels the thrum
.
The green, the call
The red, the fall,
I’ve read our story, Ivy
I’ve read it long, I’ve read it old
I’ve read it more during the cold
I’ve made it mine, I’ve made it ours,
I’ve made the time, I’ve
I’ve read our story, Ivy
And I’ve loved every second of it
Every word, every sentence
The future, the present, even the past tense
I’ve loved it all, I’ve loved it my way
I’ve lost it all, I’ve lost it my way
I’ve read our story, Ivy
I’ve read it,
I’ve
.
You’re my envy, Ivy.
.
I’m losing all my leaves
They’re falling each their own
One at a time, all together
I’m losing all my leaves
Like a tree in the wind
Like a branch in the rain
As autumn falls on me
I’m losing all my leaves
And my roots have grown deep
So deep I cannot see
Where they are leading me
I’m losing all my leaves
To the wind and the rain
To the scrolling of time
To the scratching of this itch
I’m losing all my leaves
And the birds are still singing
And the world is still turning
Under a sky of blues
I’m losing all my leaves
In the bloom of flowers
In this last dance of bees
By the small pond of old
Where I used to fish with them
I’m losing all my leaves
Floating away in the night
I’m losing all my leaves
Try as hard as I might
My fingers are stiff
As my skin after bark
I’m losing all my leaves
And no spring awaits me
Around the bend of the river
Let them carry away
I’m losing all my leaves
I’m losing all my leaves
I’m losing all my leaves
As I once thought they would stay
.
A father is a father as a father may be.
Tales of Ore 