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1. |
Becoming Human
04:57
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2. |
Disperse
06:24
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Let me dissolve into you,
black fading into black.
To become thin as a cat’s meow,
crescent moon shaped, arched back.
Flatten me, as wave and bring me out to sea.
Let me churn and tumble into nothing.
Fingers wrapped neck, no, need to breathe.
Cocoon wrapped limbs, mind blank surrender.
Hot palms, raked nails, commanding or tender.
Eyes locked, watch me dissolve.
Let me be nothing.
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3. |
Interval
02:24
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4. |
The Kingdom
04:17
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There once was a King, whose kingdom was built on sand and dust.
She swept the escaping grains back into her kingdom every day,
scarcely daring to breathe lest it blow away.
The kingdom shifts and blows in the wind, but I sweep my borders clean each night.
Keep the skin tucked away in my drawers of yesterday.
Blow out the flames of her hair so that the ash won’t soil the pillow.
Cover her eyes with tender hands, and stroke the song silent in her throat.
Wash the memory of the horizon,
so she won’t ever wonder
Was it me? Was it you?
The silence is strength and time is slow under my vigilant gaze.
No more patterns, no more empty gestures.
The brittle twigs of the nest are entwined on itself.
Bathe in it, it will bring peace to a marching heartbeat.
Bathe in it, time will slow under the cloak of happiness.
The kingdom built on sand and dust is anchored in soul and moonlight.
No more waiting for the horizon,
to watch the dying light of glaciers and to wonder:
Was it me ? Was it you?
And I wrote it in sweat, and wrote in might,
so that it would be passed down as so till the ends of time.
Silence is power and time slow under my gaze.
The road rose to greet me and her footsteps echoed mine.
Scarcely daring to breathe
The smoke in my hand, enclosed in a tower of sand.
The kingdom built of man and dust is anchored in soul and moonlight.
No more gazing to the horizon,
to watch the dying light of glaciers and wonder,
Was it me ?
Was it someone else?
Was it me? Was it you ?
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5. |
Orphne
06:11
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Some of us are born with caverns under our hearts.
A thuddering, thunderous shudder
that echoes through heart sighs.
And the beast of yesteryear unsettles and stretches,
purring and nibbling at the feet of our Times.
And we step, sneak, stick, slick
over crumbling pavements, precise and crisp.
Mouths mumbling,
tongues careering off umlaut and hiss and lisp.
And the ghostly numb phantoms all around
don’t frighten or deaden me to the quick.
Only porcelain skulls and vertebrae
that shiver for the memory of warm fingertips.
The Spirit of the Depths hearkens,
rumbling wailing in the dark.
The Spirit of the Times counters with logic, digits,
cold snip and sharp.
Title quick, skin perfect-slick, lights, camera action, intense.
From voices too loud and lives too crass,
the heart curls and coils in defence.
I line up my stones, and sing over bones,
siphon numb and blood rush quiet.
Drive stakes into the ground all around me,
belly clenched to riot.
This was never my hat, never my glove,
wake me up when it all makes sense.
Let me shelter in the cavern under my heart,
till this reality is rent.
The chips this little girl threw in the air,
never fall into an even stack.
The river twists, mind eye spasm,
Glitched, slip, tripped, don’t look back.
Onwards they said,
but don’t they know reality folds on itself?
The dimensions press against my eyelids,
urgent, childish and no help.
And we lurch along the road, cumbersome as the beast.
As the years have tried and tired her,
she cares for herself the least.
As the moments of “….” come clumsy and slow,
falling pinwheels of clarity spiral down perception’s slope.
Come, my modern day nymphs with your cavernous simplicity.
Weave time and space,
story and life with sensual synchronicity.
Let the world take off your silk and skin to grind against the mill.
The ancient echoes whisper warnings back, urgent dark and still.
Your song glimpsed, stolen, sampled and disrespected.
Your body, your temple, a playground for the lost,
searching and unprotected.
And yet our hair still grows long,
our song still rings in the air around.
And so we wait for all the forgotten to fall like dust into the ground.
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6. |
Khepri
07:05
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7. |
Did We Arrive Yet?
05:07
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8. |
Resonance
04:32
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Till everything becomes glass splinters,
floating on the ceiling.
Rainbow shards that glisten
in the smell of sunlight.
And the good ones,
they feel like warm weather.
They feel like a room filled with the smell of sunlight.
And they float to rest calm on my eyelids,
fingers pressed.
And we gather the ghost embers to make a fire.
It’s a fire that feels like satisfaction.
The flickering warmth,
flickering warmth, shards of rainbow, flickering warmth, and the smell of sunlight.
And the ghost embers, they come together to make the fire.
The signs of a good life.
So I’ve given up trying catch the tailends
Of thought
They cuddle and giggle
At the edges of reason
Swirling, floating
Till everything becomes glass splinters
(For Wilson)
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A Strangely Isolated Place Los Angeles, California
N/A mbient
Visit our sub-label @ 9128live.bandcamp.com
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