1. |
small and quiet
02:50
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One broken little thought
twisting like a thread that joins in sheets in space unoccupied
Lights flickering and caught
wash the feeling of an interrupted standing space and time
and now just clocks and ledger lines
just balances and anchors
hold but i could disappear
I could be a cloud, a mist, an atmosphere and gone
One broken little thought
just another whim detached, a feather on a string aloft
How I became the eye
both at once an empty space and a holding of collected thought
So quick how darkness circles round
to mend a broken shadow
Still I could be the fog
I could be a blur, a breath, a whisper small and quiet
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2. |
apples
03:40
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The hands abandon me; shake down the apple tree. The hands turn stories into legends and heroes. The fingers claw away, click through another day. Fall down the hourglass well into quicksand. But time shoots the arrow through the apple on the boy’s head, and time steals equations from falling apples, woken from its sleep.
The shadow’s cutting trace across stone and metal face, a marble monument to a day gone. At night, the archer’s bow draws back a tired arrow. A shining pendulum twists above us. But time shoots the arrow through the apple on the boy’s head, and time steals equations from falling apples, woken from its sleep.
Time scatters seeds ‘round, planting nations where the forest grows.
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3. |
black flower
03:38
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Once grew a black flower in your lawn which rose without the sun
And thrived despite the absence of the rain
There bloomed the petals dark and frail, a twisted stem of thorns
A blight upon your manicure of green
From basement studies and candle glow, the blot was on your mind
The sermon writ, the pictures straight and neat
Holding about you the marble weight to host a fleeting ghost
Against the hawklike pierce of those who passed
Still between conscience and shame you twisted, writhing all the while
But gathered now the mortar and the stone
Sparing both spade and the knife of guilt you built a tower fair
An edifice to veil your sore from view
Sparing both the spade and knife your hold resumed
Still the flower behind the wall, so hidden blooms
Once to awake to stranger near, the millstone and sword in the blossom
Now the cathedral bright and dear, to mend is to mask the uncovered
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4. |
a house made of books
01:55
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I dreamt I lived in a house made of books in the library
A floor of prose, four walls made of fiction and poetry
Biographs above my head, history to make my bed
Lay down little sleepyhead
In a bed that's made out of books in the library
I took a walk in the garden blooming with paperbacks
Thru the rows of hedges made out of almanacs
By the spoon river I stroll
On the road back to my home
Past the looking glass I go
To a house that's made out of books in the library
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5. |
too peaceful
04:40
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Lo, how does the river change? For unending and forgotten ways.
Two trees by the bank have grown twisted and forever joined as one. Through the hollow of the trees, through the shadow of the canopy,
Thick green moss of unmoved stone hidden where the sun has never known.
There the wind has lived in silence, near the whisp’ring of the leaves.
Oh, too peaceful night, too quiet forest, that memory is not forgotten.
The silent halls were a river between us, too peaceful night.
Gone with sorrow, gone with joy. Time has worn away the hardest stone.
Flinching roots lie hand in hand, how the sullen river parts its land.
But still the moments stretch forever. Still, the moments stretch forever!
Oh, too peaceful night, too quiet forest, that memory is not forgotten.
The silent halls were a river between us, too peaceful night.
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6. |
stormy
03:12
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How the wicked wind comes charging to the fight
The bellows of the wall thru windows shuttered tight
A breathless house and sleepless night
From the farther pond to oaks beyond the mill
The leaves have stripped away, the branches never still
A thunderhead looms o’er the hill
Silver blaze of light illuminates the black
The rolling of the clouds, the thunder’s chilling snap
The weathervane is turning back
Shelter for the garden from the apple tree
A shelter for the stray cat underneath the eave
But fear finds no shelter in me
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7. |
the spectacle
04:36
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Into the shadows suburban psalm
Feet on the pavement, and well-kept lawn
Up to the top of the evergreen
Was it a phantom, a mystery?
Once for survival, a burning fire
Warm on the beach on a blanket lying
Now for a grill in your every yard
Under the curfew and shining stars
Into the canyon a spirit sound
Carved into rocks into timepiece wound
Covers the plains and the meadowhaze
Polishing floors at gymnasiums
There was a prom night and camera roll
Smiling for pictures, corsage and bow
Up to the top of the evergreen
We saw the phantom, a mystery
We drew the past, to see the future is endless and dull a dream
Here was the table and radio
Here was the kettle and evening show
Here was a haircut and uniform
Here was a brother sent off to war
Once for survival, a desk pen set
Smiling for pictures for albums kept
We saw the phantom, the mystery
We saw the future, and endless dream
We drew the past, to see the future is endless and dull a dream
Fortune spoke in words we
never knew
That was the truth of our hopefulness
Here, bright mornings greeted us with joy
But that was when we believed in her
Cross winds lacing tie our hands
Was it a dream?
Wasn’t it strange?
Didn’t it seem true then?
Sundial in the garden never seen
Were you awake in the morning?
Restless leaves were twisting in the haze
Base of the mirror, forgetfulness
Shimmer, clear lake, see our face
Was it a dream?
Wasn’t it cold?
Didn’t it seem real then?
Was it a dream?
Wasn’t it strange?
Didn’t it seem true then?
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8. |
twin oaks
02:03
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Where had I gone?
Out for a stroll to clear my head, cloudy and dull
Held in my hand one silver leaf
Sidewalk for miles, split-level dream
Dark grew the night, silent and still
Under the trees on Lantern Hill
Maybe the brisk air of the eve
Could wake me up out of my dream
I was in love when I was young
Now I am old, living alone
Living alone: One piece of toast,
One frozen entree with my shows
I’ll read the news, wake up at dawn
I’ll rake the leaves, I’ll mow the lawn
When I get lost deep in my thoughts
I will go out and take a walk
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9. |
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You leaned against the window in the sunroom
Reading a novel borrowed from your friend
Buried your nose in pages stained with coffee
Halfway between beginning and the end
Every time the pages turn
The smell of cigarettes left burning
Wafting by, you long dismissed the scent
But as you close in on the final chapter
Heart racing ever faster
Could you skip ahead and read the end?
Aunt ruth was on the steps of your apartment
Ringing the buzzer to come up and chat
She never cares for anything but gossip
Gossip about your mother and her cat
Gerald voted independent
Missus Janney lost the rent and
Silas fell down from the windowsill
But as your eyes were slowly glazing over
Head still nodding on your shoulders
Should you have pretended you were ill?
Aunt ruth talked till she had nothing to tell
You walked her out to her car and bid her farewell
Your Ears still ringing from everything she said
Grabbed your book and you tucked into your bed
Now you turn the final page
Close the cover and turn out the lights
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10. |
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I walked to your house just to see if you were home
I cut thru the alleys and yards
I walked in the dark and in the stars
The faintest mem'ry of where our feet stood before
The parking lot
I sat on the chair squished next to your stereo
Looking through music and books
Talking about hearts in space
A faded picture that we had smiled for at last
I think it was
Time was a messenger in the waves were the breath of the ocean light fills the space all round the park sharing leaves falling silent
Time was the heartless shadow
Time was the twisted ladder
Time was the dust-filled cavern
Time was the broken lantern
Time was a sideways promise
Time was the drums in autumn
Time was the steps to your room
Time was the steps back to home
Time has never been a friend
To the ones I love
And the sun, and the moon, and the earth and the sky
Conspire against us
I walked to your house just to see if you were home
I cut thru the alleys and yards
I walked in the dark and in the stars
The faintest mem'ry of where our feet stood before
The parking lot
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Mayor of Donutville Detroit, Michigan
Mayor of Donutville, fairest land of sprinkles and pink frosting.
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