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1. |
A Line Crossed
01:27
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A Line Crossed
January 31, 1992
cold and tired I rise
I must face a new day
watch the people of my surroundings
try to understand them
barely awake I set out
not enough sleep
walking quickly
trying to attain a sensation of reality
purpose, adream on my feet
I walk the halls of a large building
ignoring their complaints –
oh so too different
not like us, the constant refrain
and so they hate me
could the issue be simple color
strained in shades of gray
I watch my back
so none may put the knife in
careful to maintain inoffensive stance
but difference is topical
too much for them to take
my world a nightmare
turning around in this bad dream
could any dream appear so real
could any cold soul really hate so much
as these cold souls seem to
ah, but the difference surpasses skin
resolution dim, you recognized from a distance
si, easy to strike out
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2. |
Compassion
01:22
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Compassion
January 31, 1992
all I ever wanted
all I ever want
is to make you feel better
show you you are beautiful
of body and mind
show you no one can take this from you
no matter what they say
for you are loved
worth everything there is to give
to you I give my all
sometimes I feel I’ve been killed
dragged by my fee through experience
though there is no fire there
sometimes I feel this cry
but starting to cry means to never stop
sometimes I need to fall, break down
and I need someone to feed on
but falling down
there is no one
so, seemed
I have found no resolution
there is no such thing
but I take a look around
there are people to rely on
there are people for you as well
needing never fear solitude
and if one day you feel the crying
that you may never stop once started
come, talk with me
take leave to use my shoulder
loved, lean close
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3. |
Breathe
01:05
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Breathe
January 31, 1992
once again I’ve discovered sorrow
lost within each person
dragged about
a token cross
crucifix of the heart
discovered abandonment
found the home of sadness
located the abode of despair
attempting root in my soul
a gathering darkness
I have discovered freedom
abatement of sorrow
they are strong
those who face the night and laugh
into the dark
I have found the freedom and the glory of forever
rather simple, actually
internal examination, statement me
I can take and do what I want
my day is the start of tomorrow
control
no need for sorrow and her fiends
harpies all
descending on their prey
but you can fight them
take the world’s black joke
live with it
for they sit and feed
those who wait in the dark
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4. |
Cascade
00:41
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Cascade
February 1, 1992
I can honestly say
if I make you happy
happiness is mine
I can tell you true I want you to be
I wish to speak you to peace
when and where you want it
only ask, and give my piece shall be
to make you happy
you make me happy
you see, by being unique
a single light in my sky
compound of what you do
how you are
I simply feel so strong in your spectrum
feel for what you are, if I make you happy
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5. |
Down Time
00:30
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Down Time
February 2, 1992
look
blue sky
blinding my wondering eyes with its brightness
holding me in awe
blink
I would share this with
if you were here
help
long gone
and the sky is blue hunger
no longer lifting my spirit
this need to share
crash
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6. |
Dissolve
01:21
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Dissolve
February 2, 1992
contact is a strange thing
a comfort to me
yet a discomfort
what is it that makes it thus
that to touch another person is both right and wrong
and I find no answer
as never touching
in chance for offence
but here I am
circling in the slow thermal
in need of contact with those I trust
afraid
if I touch them when the pain comes
will they hurt me
ever untouched
how much is hidden in a hug
a kiss for possession
meanings for have and do they have
I know not
but the only time I ever reached out
I felt safe
that contact was of no malice
intimidation nonexistent
only comfort
a sense of peace and place
I want that feeling back
for further down the spiral
in an abyss of pain
I need to hold on somehow
avoid hurting those I care for
also, also
avoid hurting myself
for I am breaking down
down the operative condition
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7. |
Come
00:15
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Come
February 2, 1992
alone
still searching
still finding nothing
I travel ever onward
alone
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8. |
Columbine
01:08
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Columbine
February 2, 1992
I know the name of my pain
it goes by the mode of friendship
a strange beginning place for harm’s source
but I cannot change it
with those I care for I have fun
but fun passes so abruptly
and time by, there is no one to be
I cannot ask for presence always
but feel reft out
in need of structure
and too often only have myself and a long night
it is – so peaceful when they are here
I listen to the water of voices
or watch them sleep, envy their sleep
but peace falls
one moment a place to turn
second passed, begone
closed and out the door
while I’m remembering sleep
with nothing to catch me
and sadness wanders in
the night of my life, so it seems
truly never over
hating to be hating
hating no one to hold
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9. |
Drawing
01:37
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Drawing
February 2, 1992
life –
my friend it is a long journey
boundless with pleasure
but torn with pain
you
and I
must find a new way
life –
my friend it is filled with emotion
each second a song
but I’m only holding on
so I can survive
survival reason to go on
find some emotion
to lift us up
life –
my friend I don’t understand it
wrought with complication
with so many people in the world
and here alone is population bomb
life –
my friend it is a bitter drug
gagged down and choked on
force fed
lived to go on living
limited comprehension
and when together
to lift each other up
is never alone again
alone
life –
odd
how it all seems a lie
how as I write there I am crying
finding no reason
having too many questions unasked
questioning even the better way
trailing the sadness of all my days
dust on the roof of my mouth
life –
my friend I must look up again
as though to see where you are
for though I reach out
out abounds, electron shellspace
out abounds
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10. |
Senses
01:03
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Senses
February 2, 1992
smell
breathe in the air
and though no one cares who you are
look
take in the sights
and though you have your perfect vision
all still there
taste
like a fruit
colorful on the outside
eaten from within
touch
through contact there is freedom
through caring, trust
feel
for though the worms eat away the hollow
conquer them
express yourself as you can
give show to your emotions
take leave of your senses from time to time
give
for in giving all is overrun
nothing freely give can be forcibly taken
and if this leaves you with naught
who cares
all your life you can but break with the best
breaking all anyone can ask
while waiting for the worm
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11. |
Vision Song
02:03
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Vision Song
February 2, 1992
I went walking in the garden of life last night
found an old man sitting under the largest tree
said he was me, years from today
that in his eyes I had become
I looked
but all I saw in his eyes was a blackness
soul eaten by the dark
why do you claim to be what I am
I’ve all my options open to me
you’re but one path I have yet to turn
I waited
as I watched, vision slowly clarified
old man with a comfortable glow behind his eyes
looked at me again, said quietly
but the power was always there
no matter what seems in the real
no option beyond death in final phase
and turning ever inward is on its own
no answer
take what you please – and run
life is ever changing
no final decision but the next one
take what you have and won
for life is always changing
so always up to you
destiny
I hold my so called fate in open hand
and when I now walk in the garden of life
I see myself under the largest tree
or the smallest flower, petal led
despite prognostication
I am my own master
only I control my visions
and when dreams are all that are left to me
still I dream my own direction
my thanks to you, old man of me
for dreams dreamed external or in
in the garden of life –
real enough to show me not the way
there is no way
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12. |
To Be Strong
01:22
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To Be Strong
February 2, 1992
I wish once in my life I could lean on someone
without dragging them down with me
without pain
I have a female friend
one of the best friends I have known
yet some misconception of the pants
lies in the way – who of my friends isn’t hunting pants?
it would be good just to sit next to her
lean on a close friend
but look
so much misconception
I do no know
I wonder if she would misunderstand
that all I want for is the friendship
a person to talk to
and to touch, remember, that is to be wrong
even I have been trained to discomfort at contact
so many layers to the double meanings
even to compliment
so where am I
and I repeat myself ever onward
answering nothing
getting more and more confused
so low, the need to hold
this friend who I will surely never ask
but I wonder
does she need someone to hold
for what assuredly will drag down both sides
supports a balance
unblinking
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13. |
Hour of the Pale Dog
05:03
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Hour of the Pale Dog
February 2, 1992
1) Awakening
this is the hour of the pale dog
cool slayer in the night
a user of the political issues of the mad
bowing only to profit
hit man
leader in his pack of hounds
baying at the heals of anyone who tries to run
who try to escape his burning lands
he stands alone after the arbor
wine already in the fields
carrier of the dead
a man of two faces
across the border we find his other side
unknown to the hounds
standing in opposition to suppression
hunting within the oppressors
to aid their downfall
this is the hour of the pale dog
his tactics are simple enough
dig a trench under the razor wire
travel under the big gun
collect the bodies of the dead
spout a few stories of killing
another runner done
to the flighty he is hero
his life risked in their salvation
he knows the patrols
plots of the government
he watches the powers breed
each chance helps the unlucky
perhaps a conscience to spur him on
2) Enter Time Traveled
another earlier introduction to the pale dog
child growing up in cold darkness
living in a countryside no one trusts
family drawn with poverty
he sees them fed to the machine
he swears, on the name of the machine
he will b free
drafted unwittingly ten years later, he is armed
he learns the killing
forced into a pair of bloody wars
he watches the faces of those he must destroy
he is loosing his mind
unable to take the anguish of destroying his beliefs
he becomes an angel of the darkness
burrowing into his country’s clockwork
trying to find a way into the light
3) Performances
a look into the soul of the pale dog
one who must appear to be what he’s not
a destroyer
so he can be what he must
killed for them before
so they will not tell his tale
suffered their agonies a hundred times and more
he lives a present of nightmare
those he must help and those he must kill
distinctions waver, each night searching morgues
bodies to claim his own
is he doing the right thing
traitor to his country
he helps the ones in need he says
and this
as rebellion
is wrong
so the pattern of guilt goes by
for those he’s killed and his country
each night sleeping with a forty-five
round chambered so the enemy can’t take him
4) Resolution
each morning he rises
puts the gun to his head
counts ten
and does not pull the trigger
two pounds short of the seven pound will
he has casually flickered across a thousand times before
always for some right perception
but belief is so… transitory
each morning he puts the gun down
thinks a prayer for those he’s aided
that their lives may be better now
and the graves of the dead must remain undisturbed
he holds a hundred skeletons in his ballroom
each roll of the bones a favor to call
each buried body a tagged value
he knows where the leader died
and the leader before, where too
those seeking revenge
followed in the footsteps
knows of a thousand gassed as they slept
passive exhalations to his aim
the transitory better life, not of the moment
but of the ever
meanwhile, to survive
dogged on
5) Castaway
I know, time is running short for him
one plot and another’s bitter fruit
conscience catching up, age slowing down
his nowhere to turn a vacant emphasis upon correct action
will upon the lever growing ounce by patient ounce
one morning, when he reaches ten, surprised
a sound of thunder will pass him by
when actual right and actual harm counterbalance
the going on of going on
pale dog, pale dog
go on
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14. |
To Let Go
01:34
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To Let Go
February 3, 1992
I have this friend you don’t know
problems serious, problems low
central to the many
taken by many from one extreme to another
too many pills, successful suicide, failed –
life is too much, he says
a burden to him
it would be much simpler to step down
out of the light on some imagined stage
where after the act actors gather, shake hands
call it a night
into whatever hereafter is
claims realization of the foolish choice
burned out on support groups, empty warm and needing hands
by which mine too, I might as well include
so he thinks of going away for a while
as though he might screw the pooch
get the angle wrong, eat the sugar pills
talks of an impression on those left behind
but the impression’s already made
I don’t trust you
I don’t believe your help is real
he wants sorrow at his passing
and mine he can have when he goes
and my curse, my anger, my pain
my hope that if he’s that weak his ghost will further suffer
having insulted his family, drawn wrath from the balustrade
slid down right quick, no chance before the nip
letting everyone know – and am I the splinter to stop him?
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15. |
Continuum
01:05
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Continuum
February 4, 1992
let my sorrows help you
let my answers be there for you
my pain perhaps can teach
for what I do not understand
you may
let my problems point out the worlds
how everyone lives useless
repeating, repeating, useless words
same thing, expressed in some fundamental
I write of facts
real and unreal
repeat, repeat, all part of the true
the home of the world is in the mind
and home I stay
I write of my fears
my fears are all fears, all fears are mine
no worse for the ones I’ve missed into nonexistence
fact and fiction together
no loss meaningful to my by their combination
repeat, repeat, issues unchanged
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16. |
Other
01:03
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Other
February 4, 1992
I am not the person I want to be
no strong loins here
doing the wrong thing or right
all harm from the head and heart
happening anyway
I can rarely tell how others feel
sometimes lucky, reading faces
sometimes needing help helping need help
guestless in the infirmary
what do these animals need
I wish someone would tell me
where the horses for the needy strode
how they expect my act to carry
some just trying to help burden
for now feeling the distance
of just trying to help
and though the fault is mine
looking harder hinders
making emotions of people’s faces
always changing, mutating –
please, what do we animals need
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17. |
Fade Away
01:01
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Fade Away
February 4, 1992
I am an illusion
a figment of my own imagining
a mirror image by way of carnie glass
bent and twisted til I can no longer see me
just look at some contorted monster in my place
to pass time, talking to other, more distorted illusions
somewhat shaped like people
after all, even illusory company being
composed of images constructed internally
and if the places I have been are unreal
it matters naught to me
I watch my world like a fretless chord
letting sound and pictures in
but the mirror is curiosity of who
if not me, you, reflected, all in your mind
or mine, you in mine, carnie glass
distorted, exemplified
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18. |
Sign
01:18
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Sign
February 4, 1992
last night I watched you sleeping
so peaceful
dreaming
you were talking in your sleep
I could hardly hear a word you said
but you were happy
I made out pieces here and there
how your life was going
talking to moving pictures in your dream
I wished I could join you
in your dreamlit world, talking to you talkers
if one of them were me
find out what I might say
you were so close I could smell you hair
water only cleaned
face relaxed, no tension
I watched the line of your body breathe
and wished I could be so peaceful
you talked in riddles
warm and quiet
of a world lit by a light from within
of a magic land
where trouble always passes
and one needs trouble no longer
such a dream wrought I wish for my life
though my own dreams are creatures substance void
and through your dreaming eyes I saw
your happy place of peace
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19. |
To Black
00:30
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To Black
February 4, 1992
left brain, right brain, wrong brain, no
I do not understand all this
metaphysical corporeal relationship of mind to body
where does all of me hook together
am I more dream than mind than vision than body
all senses garbled into one synesthesic whole
or is it just my imagination that I’m talking colors to myself
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20. |
My God
01:36
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My God
February 4, 1992
I am god
oddly enough so am I
I control your life
or I am wrong
maybe it’s you inside my head
still
the voices are usually kind
and I wonder
if I am god
should I be hearing voices?
I am me
you are you
we are we
and I be you two
and when I dream
I see us one
two
standing apart
bound by the words we weave
inside my head
or are you my reflection
we always see the same things
it seems
though when I want to talk
I can
when you want to walk
I must
good god
that’s me
where has the real gone
I am you and we are chicken
can we lay an egg
or will I crack
oh, haven’t I
wait until you see inside my head
there you are
off in the corner of my mind
telling me to jump
so I do
but my egg is an omelet
par boiled
double birdie
and me as an onion
chopped, sliced, diced
along with some wet green peppers
in what used to be my mind
I hope they don’t add mushrooms
god
that’s me,
how I hate mushrooms
oh, you too
wait a minute,
that’s me!
begone mine enemy the fork
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21. |
Sharp Sign
00:49
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Sharp Sign
February 1992
life is balanced on a razor blade
slip
fall
cut yourself
a denial
a delusion
if you say you never fall
you may miss the sharp edge of the blade
you may –
but on the marrow it cuts deep
and you want someone to stop you
before the bite begins
you may try and avoid the pain
shut away the blade
but it never works
nothing gained from nothing so they say
the razor blade holds all your mirrors
balance
slip
balance again
but attracted for an instant
loose your concentration
down you go
the landing never gentle
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22. |
Breed
01:10
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Breed
February 4, 1992
as I child I sat in bed
counting the cracks in my ceiling
taking time to memorize them
fearfully
knowing that when memory faded
all manner of legged things could crawl free
low and slimy
dropping into my bed
with claws and teeth that spite
putrescent with a stinging poison
forgetful in their minds
so I left the light on
watched the number of the cracks
and sleeping days for a time
where the evil things hate sun
and now –
oh, for the foolish childhood
found not so forgetful after all
counting not crack now, but the things with claws
ticking in the walls
and though they did not get me
the ticking continues in my sleep
wrong things gone more wrong
harvesting my dreams
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23. |
Infinity Broken
02:33
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Infinity Broken
February 5, 1992
what is it that we all reach out to
that which we cut ourselves with with
flagellation turned religion
and many beatings every time
and what of this religion preaching pain
offering no cure but for man’s word
that harm begets harm and harm atones
that long and hard is the way
and long and hard is the way
wherever is the way
to hurt ourselves for our gods, how pointless
some end will come, mayhap a reckoning, mayhap
but the wrong is not undone – what use crying
driving in the skull plate against granite, thrashing away
nothing is accomplished
the nothing, then, against religion
it can be good to have this place to turn to
somewhere the moral support rides
and god or gods, the pattern is the pattern
my evidence my eyes, my words aside
just another set of words
reparations, bettering injustice – there lies the rub
act heals, guilt halts, act heals, penance halts
this so sick suffering malingering on
when there’s work to be done
think then upon your own teachings, that your act of each day
brings learning on the morrow, repetition of fewer wrongs
harvesting the sorrow, casting it to void, curing the ill
religion is education, faith shattered and rebuilt by fact
guilt cast out
do not jabber of your angry god
I can’t argue your views if so they be
and if irked some day, god will let me know
or strike me down, or do nothing
personification only does so much
your words of your god’s dictum, flailing away
believe what you will, suffer as you like
perhaps unchangeable
but no matter your believes, consider this
can education break faith
can faith so easily broken take religion
can religion shattered break your god
if so, your words are hollow
if not, examine your world
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24. |
Resolve
01:12
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Resolve
February 5, 1992
you have found a method for your pain
quiet flame in the side
to light when you are hurting
so thus the pain grows worse
a method to shut the others out
helpers gathered at your door
the no difference of a demon
tucking your pain in a blanket
guiltily making sure it’s tied right in
useless, holding yourself over fires
building them up
I was sorry you cried
I was not sorry when you went
oh, of conscience, mine is clean
what’s done is done
healed or burned
tucked in under the skin
the no difference of a cyst
pain begetting pain
come back to me, hurting child
your world is not destroyed
demons of demos of people too
were forgiveness mine, forgiven you would be
but I’ve just filed the facts away
|
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25. |
Ressurection
01:28
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Resurrection
February 5, 1992
into a room carved from the living rock
looking down a pit to the core of the earth
mustiness and softly glowing pith
rock walls moving in my carbide lamp
water dripping from the roof of this still cold cave
‘tis an awesome sense of peace in here
the only living thing of the world
and I the first in a sequence to earth’s heart
last as well, a sequence of one’s ambulation
though I am at peace with myself
here is the peace of long death
for all on the surface melted of a sudden
set rippling into motion by man unkind
survivor, I wait
for my light to gout
for my food, meager food
for my life to end
for my world to turn over and start anew
a billion years past and this pith begins
to make amends not ending in destruction
my little life adding some organized matter
that I maintain in tranquil repose
circle of organic, waiting for endings
waiting for new beginnings
glad I had time to go under
before the light began
|
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26. |
The Enemy Within
01:08
|
|||
The Enemy Within
February 5, 1992
I have seen the enemy
I have been the enemy
and still I am the enemy
and the enemy is me
I would fight the enemy
his guises and his looks
but when I strike the enemy
I awaken hurt
what is this then, this endless war
when all I need is a place to sleep
a little water, a little food
a place to call my home
and though I like the glitter
and the enemy has more
it makes no real difference
where some dead man laid him down
take it, process, unmake it
process
when the good are getting grabby
and the grabbiest is me
latching on is freedom
sucking the blood of the enemy dry
and the desert is most empty
and the water source is gone
and in the night of broken souls
my enemy has none
|
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27. |
The Disease
04:37
|
|||
The Disease
February 5, 1992
1) Knowledge
my friend I am fighting my addiction
information, drug of the wise
knowing is a pestilence
for every person that I meet
I want to know them more
and knowing, I am helpless
I want to know them more
I know this
strange as strange may seem
knowledge and trust are brutal bound
strange the secrets to be exchanged
listened to and tried to tell
tried to bare and tired to bear
for everyone is addicted
the more you know the more to ask
the more you ask to know
bigger datum transit
refusing to be pushed down –
though you might think it would
in trusting those clearer to you
datum collection lives easier
upon the other side I find this
understanding desire – knowing is not enough
I want to feel what life is like
each new experience from the inside
raw facts feed the dwelling heart
but who can feel the dwelling?
I know how one thing leads to another
but the feeling is long ago emptied
my friends in their discussions jest on troubled topics
unable to bend serious will
who then is damaged by touching on the trouble
I ask you
where went wrong the want to know
there is so much untouchable in the verbal
taboo –
but still looking for understanding, wonder
where did the taboo grow childlike
where did lack of understanding promote
where did the hunger for knowledge grow
2) Differences
there is much I make no care about
untouched askances avoiding condemnation
ever onward looking beyond the inluminal
dark mantle of personal unspoken things
where was the drug of being a man
the condition of being perceived by others
physical self conditional upon view of physical self
mental self conditional upon evaluation of self
how did body become boy/girl theme
how did differences become merged
thrown out in our humdrum drone
I often stop to wonder
what sourced this feeling
juxtaposed upon anything
if I am different, where then is my data
your data bent astray from this particular genome
your revolution nearly identical
differences mental subtly hungry
obscured by windows of the mind
I wish for everyone to talk, openly
define themselves clearly in life performances
fantastic presentations of act and dream
I want to know every waking thing
where the fear goes, here the fear comes
and I stop to think
if you were to ask me the same courtesy
where could I put down words
formality, some diffident construct
bad judge of what not to ask, asking nothing
knowledge slipping from me in this limited time
where a better way should long ago have sheltered
perhaps in comfort those things willfully told
happily obscuring some private heated heart
dreams exposed or hidden by whim, presentation
affirmation
3) Closing
I do not wish to hurt you
hurt you none the less
unable to stop questions
unable not to know
unable to see reluctance
unable to staunch the flow
so I ask
late in the game
if the data grows too much
remember the words are only words
and stopping simply a matter of quiet heart
when the mind runs wild in the drug
clarity of caring obscured in word
it is only addiction
|
||||
28. |
Gunslinger
02:41
|
|||
Gunslinger
February 5, 1992
ten paces
turn and shoot
simple rules to simple games
a man to face another man
take life from life in blood run dawn
but families have nothing said
of the one lives, of the one death
romance out of context
children gathered at the TV sets
say cowboys are wonderful
but never see the cows
my father picked his colt up
cold eyes forgetting him already I glazed at him
he said
son, this is something I gotta do
I’ll be sorry to leave you behind
but a man’s honor is his life
and life for honor sometimes must fall
– fool
and I watched him walk stiff to the door
a corpse before he reached it
dead face set
and I watched him stride away from me
struck down before I could cry my nos
that I needed his face, not his honor
they said it should never bother me
the doctor and the corpse cleaning man
daddy died in honor
he faced his man and met his match
that he stood his ground, that he stood his ground
but my father, where’s the bullet for me
when you are struck and gone
now I’m left with no one
and a clean sheet and a headstone
you took your gun and left me
no chance to say good bye
no forgiveness then from this son
just bitter at your resting ground
wondering if ever I saw beyond your honor
where you never stayed to show me
now –
I’m left with memories
your warm smile and handsome eyes
pushing me on a handmade swing
your past come up to get you and me on a swing seat
just below the dogwood – you could have turned away
might as well have executed yourself in front of me
saying you had to go, that no condolences would come
here you’re a man and a martyr now
and me, well, just a broken son, remembering a swing
|
||||
29. |
Reckoning
01:08
|
|||
Reckoning
February 5, 1992
I am a child of rape
revenge upon my race
my mother kidnapped before my time
tortured and forced
one man of anger after another
my whole life a reminder to my people
mother stripped of clothing and face
dead getting my body clear
I went to my relatives
a blot upon their name
reminder of both hatreds
so I set out
across the ways of time
searching, one father at a time
one goal overriding my restrictions
by humor, sin, and features
look –
creature of revenge now I’ve become
a man to kill the men of the last one
searching for my fathers
one man at a time
finding, ever finding
one death at a time
|
||||
30. |
To -
01:50
|
|||
To –
February 7, 1992
day after day
I swear I’m OK
but I think this might be a lie
I don’t know how I am
and it’s getting no better
I still don’t know where I’m going
I had it all planned
held my life in my hand
but the jarring has spun it all loose
don’t think I can take it
make or remake it
what trail is the trial on?
I thought I could feel
how I’d not been felt better
I though I could heal
know myself just a little bit more
but now I am crashing
event horizon
plunging in closer
as deeper down the well I go
and what can I tell you
that yes I still love you
that nothing really touches me here
it all comes out today
I never knew what to say
I seem to be slipping away
and though I am climbing
trying to regain
my mental ground is frictionless
my slope defined by your release
never shared, ability compromised
is it worth starting over
is friends nothing more than what we had
all from the start
so I tell you most truly that though this is hard for me
starting again is compulsive
for nothing comes from hollow –
I tell you it was good
something must have held me
selfish in the should
and here’s the crash
state of confusion in a state of joy
risk of the willing, starting condition
beginning again, called share
|
||||
31. |
Track
00:33
|
|||
Track
February 8, 1992
terrible pain in my head tonight
wide awake at three AM
cold in a bed of blood and roses
not a chance
no way to regain that stability
mind gone to fodder
a denial
that life is a mach four storm
winds blown up from nowhere
ripping apart relationships
strewing souls and emotions to the wind
so cold without your hearth
I am never ready
|
||||
32. |
True to Form
00:44
|
|||
True to Form
February 7, 1992
I never lie
do not misunderstand
I do not always tell truth
just try to show things as I see them
best I can
plot things out with words
reasons for changing
my realities versions
quite simple really
it is all as I see it coming into conclusion
though the conclusion I come to
one time of night
does not always fully agree with my mornings
sometimes I get things wrong
for how I see things is not always true
for this I am sorry
|
||||
33. |
With, Without
01:49
|
|||
With, Without
February 10, 1992
look with me love
I cannot let you go
I am passing early into time
out of my control
I had things to tell you
I love you as all my friends
but now where I thought I was right
I’m amoral
what I feel for you it seems
is more than I could say
hard to put down into action
though I amplified my few words
and it all came out
all of it pronged
I’m sorry
what I feel for you is more now
than simple love of friends
though as friends it started
as friends it is
but now there is something more
I cannot begin to describe it
I don’t know where to start
but with you
look –
I feel so light
holden dear to heart
I cannot tell you this conceived
better to be friends
perhaps my trust is faltered
confidence that I would scare you
with some lack of control
and if you stumble upon my eyes
if you see me sad
try not to know what you see
sorrow is a useless waste
of could have had
and so I wait
and wish
and wonder
where did it all go wrong
was there nothing I could have changed about me
to show you how I truly feel
this then is the sorrow’s name
that I know the act and I know my action
pushing further away, that the fool lays down rules
loves by a model
finds the model lacking
|
||||
34. |
Preparation
01:00
|
|||
Preparation
February 9, 1992
everyone wants a second chance
welcome to the place it comes
an unreality so defined as to be tangible
the dream of a second chance that follows so close
undiscernable
most never notice
it stands behind their backs hiding
laughing at them
daring them to search
but you will see them turn away
not even unconsciously grabbing the line
this is your place to lend a hand
an imaginary world within their dreams
your place to reach in
touch their sense of pride
strengthen them to resolve
you need not wait for dreaming
this place is real, the now
waiting for you
all you need do is find and latch on
give a hand up
that is all that is left in the world
|
||||
35. |
One - Two - One
02:14
|
|||
36. |
Black Sky
01:12
|
|||
Black Sky
February 17, 1992
I was never able to cry about it
I don’t know why
it never made a difference how I felt inside
nothing I can do inside of this rage
lock myself away from you
and you
don’t ask me why I say
though all I want is to be
asked anything
strange as anything may be
I can’t reach out to you, it seems
or anyone
tied up inside my mind
all these insecurities
nothing I can do
no way for anyone to win
I sit here on the verge o dying
from a foolish misery
and though I wish to be something else
I am trapped within myself
nothing I would like better
than to rid myself of these awful dreams
you slipped away from me
for I was never there
and I am dying, never crying
ever unable to see
|
Wetdryvac's Lair Weld, Maine
Wetdryvac is a consulting device, a musician, and a free will procedural ethicist. This makes for some seriously odd material from time to time, much of which is worked with here as Wetdryvac's Lair.
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