the cogs are tuning
my vibration to yours
with a fork for all the
blooming cornfields
stalked by cooing coyotes
who don't smell the difference
between alive and dead
the citation embedded
in dreams defers to
yours instead
and I blame myself
what I'm getting at really
when it all comes down to it
the thing I am trying to say is
I'm not educated, just savvy
I'm not the messiah, just charming
I'm just as much of a nobody
to society in general
as most of you are
and yet, I'm
the perfect hero in my own little world
-
I tuck her postcard in
the front of my notebook
like a trophy, a simple
reminder, just someone who
took enough time from her
day - yes, a woman - to
squash atoms of ink into paper
which travels a fathom through
the ocean to shore - grows in soil
and becomes the pores of trees
breathing in perfect harmony
so far - with us - yes -
a woman who sleeps
naked in my bed, slept
once, she is the nameless
ghost sitting cross legged
in the bathtub down the hall
her signature slips below the
poems she has inscribed - yes -
all language is poetry if delivered right,
most notably when we speak to
one another - yes - all of us,
because, there is no postcard
in the mailbox, there is no woman
in my bed, in my bathtub,
there is no tree or ocean or trophy,
there is only this moment,
just you and I
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Red Canoe
you must have missed the bus
took a ride in the car that drives itself
instead of calling me to come and pick you up
you were my best friend
and I never saw you again
I see you on a bright read canoe
under a sliver of moon
I sit in the basement room
tables and chairs scattered in a circle
for every one of us who made it here
there have been dozens lost
we got away but what was the cost?
we got away but what was the cost?
I see their ghosts in rows
that could fill this old church to the rafters
and I wish I could say it’s a matter of fate
who will go and who will stay
but I’ve known too many souls
with hearts of gold
that couldn’t make it through
the lines and crimes and booze
the suicides and midnight rides in little red canoes
I guess I’ll see you soon
I guess I’ll see you soon
took a ride in the car that drives itself
instead of calling me to come and pick you up
you were my best friend
and I never saw you again
I see you on a bright read canoe
under a sliver of moon
I sit in the basement room
tables and chairs scattered in a circle
for every one of us who made it here
there have been dozens lost
we got away but what was the cost?
we got away but what was the cost?
I see their ghosts in rows
that could fill this old church to the rafters
and I wish I could say it’s a matter of fate
who will go and who will stay
but I’ve known too many souls
with hearts of gold
that couldn’t make it through
the lines and crimes and booze
the suicides and midnight rides in little red canoes
I guess I’ll see you soon
I guess I’ll see you soon
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Purple Morning
I left home the summer of my fifteenth birthday. My father owned a house in cape cod which he built in 1977. We spent a few weeks there each June or July with extended family coming in from Minneapolis. My parents had divorced three years prior and had dated on and off ever since. I did not handle their divorce well. I was angry and didn't' want to live in separate houses nor get split up from my brother Gabe, though, I'm sure he couldn't have shared a more opposite sentiment. Nothing worse than a tag-along brother who resembles a girlier version of Taylor Hanson.
We had been at our house in the cape for a few days when my father quite casually told us that our mother was on her way up to stay the rest of the vacation with us. Previous to this new reunion they hadn't spoken for about six months and Gabe and I had been the relayers of any urgent information. The tone my father used to atom-bomb extreme information was that of total matter-of-fact apathy, as if he had no intellectual or emotional investment in what he was letting us know. (the best example of this would come two Christmas's later when he informed us that he had prostate cancer while in the midst of watching jeopardy and cooking a turkey dinner) I was furious. It wasn't that I hated my mother, I didn't, (in fact, I lived with her at the time), it was just that I wanted them either together or apart, I couldn't take the flip-flopping. One week they were planning my college fund investments together, reading the New York Times while giving each other foot rubs on the living room couch; the next week I would be listening to my mother gripe "If you want an allowance, bring it up with your father." So it wasn't that I disliked either, I just wanted some consistency.
"If she's coming, then I'm leaving."
I still wonder if I really meant those words when they came out of my mouth.
"well, she's on her way." my father replied.
so I packed my backpack and called my best friend Alexis to come pick me up on Route 6, the main 2 lane highway that runs up and down the cape. And then I began walking the sandy road that led me there. About a quarter of a mile from route 6 my mothers car passes me. Stops dead. Reverse.
"Honey, where are you going?" she asked.
"Just to a friends house for the night" I said, as nonchalantly as possible.
My mother is really the only person who's always been able to detect my bullshit and lies flawlessly.
"Ok, well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow" she said, eying my bulging backpack.
"Ok, love you, gotta go" I started walking.
The moment she was out of eyesight I started running towards the road. I knew I only had about three minutes or so before she got to the house, talked to my dad, and basically flipped out completely. Just moments after coming on 6, still catching my breath, I saw a dirty yellow VW beetle pull over in front of me. I walked over to see a pretty blond behind the wheel smiling like the Cheshire cat.
"Hi, I'm Annie, a friend of Lex's, she was at work but called me to come pick you up, hop in!"
And just like that, I left behind my family, my high school career (if you would call it that) my hometown, my oath that I'd never do cocaine or ecstasy, my cat, my possessions, and my home. I've never felt freer.
That first night, Annie, Alexis, Erica, Milhouse (nicknamed that for his resemblance to the Simpson's character), Mark and I all ate ecstasy and cuddled in the small shed behind Alexis' house which we had filled with blankets and pillows. We listened to beautiful music I can't even remember and spent hours touching each other's skin, talking and laughing. In the morning, at about five am, when the first blue hues advanced upon the edge of the sky, we decided to go watch the sunrise over the ocean. Alexis drove the six of us in her run down Chevy, nicknamed the Baby Blue Beaver, to Long Nook Beach, which was only about a mile from my father's house. When we pulled in there was one other car in the parking lot, which I immediately realized was none other than my fathers. He often liked to come out very early and fish before anyone else woke up.
"I have to go talk to him" I said to Alexis.
"Sam, you are rolling on ecstasy right now, and I know you think that's a good idea, because everything is beautiful and flowers and shit right now" she said "but you can't go talk to your dad right now, on the beach at 5 in the morning with your pupils as big as your head"
I stood on the dune and looked down to see him standing, one arm on his side, staring at the ocean, waiting for a fish to bite. I still wonder how different my life would have turned out if I had just walked down, talked to him, apologized, and moved back home. It may have been more peaceful, but probably far less interesting. I wanted so badly for him to just turn around and see me, for it to all be over, for my charade of running away to come to an end on my very first day. I willed him with my mind to turn around and see me. But he didn't. Alexis grabbed my arm and walked me back to the car, and we pulled off into a purple cape cod morning, listening to pavement, silent and lost in our individual thoughts.
We had been at our house in the cape for a few days when my father quite casually told us that our mother was on her way up to stay the rest of the vacation with us. Previous to this new reunion they hadn't spoken for about six months and Gabe and I had been the relayers of any urgent information. The tone my father used to atom-bomb extreme information was that of total matter-of-fact apathy, as if he had no intellectual or emotional investment in what he was letting us know. (the best example of this would come two Christmas's later when he informed us that he had prostate cancer while in the midst of watching jeopardy and cooking a turkey dinner) I was furious. It wasn't that I hated my mother, I didn't, (in fact, I lived with her at the time), it was just that I wanted them either together or apart, I couldn't take the flip-flopping. One week they were planning my college fund investments together, reading the New York Times while giving each other foot rubs on the living room couch; the next week I would be listening to my mother gripe "If you want an allowance, bring it up with your father." So it wasn't that I disliked either, I just wanted some consistency.
"If she's coming, then I'm leaving."
I still wonder if I really meant those words when they came out of my mouth.
"well, she's on her way." my father replied.
so I packed my backpack and called my best friend Alexis to come pick me up on Route 6, the main 2 lane highway that runs up and down the cape. And then I began walking the sandy road that led me there. About a quarter of a mile from route 6 my mothers car passes me. Stops dead. Reverse.
"Honey, where are you going?" she asked.
"Just to a friends house for the night" I said, as nonchalantly as possible.
My mother is really the only person who's always been able to detect my bullshit and lies flawlessly.
"Ok, well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow" she said, eying my bulging backpack.
"Ok, love you, gotta go" I started walking.
The moment she was out of eyesight I started running towards the road. I knew I only had about three minutes or so before she got to the house, talked to my dad, and basically flipped out completely. Just moments after coming on 6, still catching my breath, I saw a dirty yellow VW beetle pull over in front of me. I walked over to see a pretty blond behind the wheel smiling like the Cheshire cat.
"Hi, I'm Annie, a friend of Lex's, she was at work but called me to come pick you up, hop in!"
And just like that, I left behind my family, my high school career (if you would call it that) my hometown, my oath that I'd never do cocaine or ecstasy, my cat, my possessions, and my home. I've never felt freer.
That first night, Annie, Alexis, Erica, Milhouse (nicknamed that for his resemblance to the Simpson's character), Mark and I all ate ecstasy and cuddled in the small shed behind Alexis' house which we had filled with blankets and pillows. We listened to beautiful music I can't even remember and spent hours touching each other's skin, talking and laughing. In the morning, at about five am, when the first blue hues advanced upon the edge of the sky, we decided to go watch the sunrise over the ocean. Alexis drove the six of us in her run down Chevy, nicknamed the Baby Blue Beaver, to Long Nook Beach, which was only about a mile from my father's house. When we pulled in there was one other car in the parking lot, which I immediately realized was none other than my fathers. He often liked to come out very early and fish before anyone else woke up.
"I have to go talk to him" I said to Alexis.
"Sam, you are rolling on ecstasy right now, and I know you think that's a good idea, because everything is beautiful and flowers and shit right now" she said "but you can't go talk to your dad right now, on the beach at 5 in the morning with your pupils as big as your head"
I stood on the dune and looked down to see him standing, one arm on his side, staring at the ocean, waiting for a fish to bite. I still wonder how different my life would have turned out if I had just walked down, talked to him, apologized, and moved back home. It may have been more peaceful, but probably far less interesting. I wanted so badly for him to just turn around and see me, for it to all be over, for my charade of running away to come to an end on my very first day. I willed him with my mind to turn around and see me. But he didn't. Alexis grabbed my arm and walked me back to the car, and we pulled off into a purple cape cod morning, listening to pavement, silent and lost in our individual thoughts.
Ghost Lover
you still
appear too often in my thoughts
it's raining here
and I think of horses
on the sidewalk
I'd like to storm your castle
if your knight and king collapse
if you weren't so well defended
I could put you in check
I ate a juicy piece of fruit
drank myself into a stupor
for two days
laid in my bed
listening to the rain
it's been a long time
since you laid your skin on mine
I haven't been lonely though
you know how it goes
but you're still the ghost
in the corner of my room
shaking your head low
I'm sorry that I let you go
if you tune my piano
I'll let you watch me moan
silence in the suicidal
streets of my hometown
I apologize to no one
because word would get around
that I've given up the hunt
and my raspy falsetto
would fade and my broken songs
would just become an echo
but I won't let that happen
I'm a screaming demon
set on dreaming
fleeing for the wilderness
with a bottle of whiskey
and pack of smokes
and my ghost lovers kiss
appear too often in my thoughts
it's raining here
and I think of horses
on the sidewalk
I'd like to storm your castle
if your knight and king collapse
if you weren't so well defended
I could put you in check
I ate a juicy piece of fruit
drank myself into a stupor
for two days
laid in my bed
listening to the rain
it's been a long time
since you laid your skin on mine
I haven't been lonely though
you know how it goes
but you're still the ghost
in the corner of my room
shaking your head low
I'm sorry that I let you go
if you tune my piano
I'll let you watch me moan
silence in the suicidal
streets of my hometown
I apologize to no one
because word would get around
that I've given up the hunt
and my raspy falsetto
would fade and my broken songs
would just become an echo
but I won't let that happen
I'm a screaming demon
set on dreaming
fleeing for the wilderness
with a bottle of whiskey
and pack of smokes
and my ghost lovers kiss
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Animal
we are changing people's lives
we are the automatic drive
we are retroactive - anti-pragmatic - and far too satisfied
so let the pulse revive you
and if the spirit moves inside you
let it out to claim the screaming fire
before the fountain of flames expire
whistle christmas songs onto cold morning glass
avert your eyes until the strangers pass
do not make contact
do not make contact
we cannot connect
for we feel it is a senseless act
we only touch each other when it's practical
just like paying the bills
but I can't sit still any longer
I am an animal
I shaved away your mirrors until you were only bones
like a dove being carved from a bar of soap
we washed away our sins like peeling skin
the summer sun will give us hope
I thought I heard you whisper
in the darkness
let it go
we are the automatic drive
we are retroactive - anti-pragmatic - and far too satisfied
so let the pulse revive you
and if the spirit moves inside you
let it out to claim the screaming fire
before the fountain of flames expire
whistle christmas songs onto cold morning glass
avert your eyes until the strangers pass
do not make contact
do not make contact
we cannot connect
for we feel it is a senseless act
we only touch each other when it's practical
just like paying the bills
but I can't sit still any longer
I am an animal
I shaved away your mirrors until you were only bones
like a dove being carved from a bar of soap
we washed away our sins like peeling skin
the summer sun will give us hope
I thought I heard you whisper
in the darkness
let it go
The Gates
lets celebrate our excess
since we are witness to the apocalypse
whether we know it or not
one end of the earth is dangling by a string
and I sing because the wind won’t forgive me
if I don’t give some kind of warning
my arrogance has enlightened me
to the fact that I’m not awake
if I question each word and melody
and curse over every mistake
and if there is only the present
then all my memories and dreams
are exactly as irrelevant
as they seem to be
so I will hold my breath underwater
until you squeeze my hand
and I will drink myself into a stupor
and pray each morning if you’ll help me understand
why there is so much suffering
which I cannot touch
why there is so much darkness
that I can’t expose with love
please open up your ancient heart for me
I am willing
I am ready
I am just as afraid as everyone
but I know where I belong
the gates are open
the gates are open
the gates are open
let me in
since we are witness to the apocalypse
whether we know it or not
one end of the earth is dangling by a string
and I sing because the wind won’t forgive me
if I don’t give some kind of warning
my arrogance has enlightened me
to the fact that I’m not awake
if I question each word and melody
and curse over every mistake
and if there is only the present
then all my memories and dreams
are exactly as irrelevant
as they seem to be
so I will hold my breath underwater
until you squeeze my hand
and I will drink myself into a stupor
and pray each morning if you’ll help me understand
why there is so much suffering
which I cannot touch
why there is so much darkness
that I can’t expose with love
please open up your ancient heart for me
I am willing
I am ready
I am just as afraid as everyone
but I know where I belong
the gates are open
the gates are open
the gates are open
let me in
Friday, April 06, 2007
All The Children
Walk the yellow corridors
listen through the walls
to the women screaming
his eyes gleam with alcohol
and all the children dream
of a better place to be
Are you on your cigarette break
watching afternoon fade
wishing you were anywhere but here
walking back inside
you can't adjust your eyes
as the sunlight and the wind disappear
Chaos all around you and yet
you find yourself immune
your manager's a monster
but you hum this tune
beneath your breath
and pour the drinks
there's nothing left
to do but never think again
everything is perfect
Outside the barren oak trees
look like skeleton fingers beckoning
but maybe you just see
the metaphor in everything
close the blinds and stay inside
you find a switch and hit the light
you would drift off to sleep
but you're already there
All the children dream
of a better place to be
listen through the walls
to the women screaming
his eyes gleam with alcohol
and all the children dream
of a better place to be
Are you on your cigarette break
watching afternoon fade
wishing you were anywhere but here
walking back inside
you can't adjust your eyes
as the sunlight and the wind disappear
Chaos all around you and yet
you find yourself immune
your manager's a monster
but you hum this tune
beneath your breath
and pour the drinks
there's nothing left
to do but never think again
everything is perfect
Outside the barren oak trees
look like skeleton fingers beckoning
but maybe you just see
the metaphor in everything
close the blinds and stay inside
you find a switch and hit the light
you would drift off to sleep
but you're already there
All the children dream
of a better place to be
Friday, March 23, 2007
Hunted by the prey
I got bit by vampires
playing on the wrong side of town again
I stayed out too late
didn't even know her name
so why was I unable to run?
hunted by the prey
hunted by the prey
hunted by the prey
She took me downtown
mystified by streetlights
driving through the cigarette
strip of neon signs
"this cities dead" she said
but I knew what she meant
(the leaves don't bloom
like her teeth in the blue moon do)
hunted by the prey
hunted by the prey
hunted by the prey
She let me off in my neighborhood
it was good to meet you
wonder when I'll see you again
once the guilt has washed away
I'll be back
to haunt the alleyways
where you hide in black shadows
I can see you running away
but you can not escape
I can see you running away
but you can not escape
hunted by the prey
hunted by the prey
hunted by the prey
playing on the wrong side of town again
I stayed out too late
didn't even know her name
so why was I unable to run?
hunted by the prey
hunted by the prey
hunted by the prey
She took me downtown
mystified by streetlights
driving through the cigarette
strip of neon signs
"this cities dead" she said
but I knew what she meant
(the leaves don't bloom
like her teeth in the blue moon do)
hunted by the prey
hunted by the prey
hunted by the prey
She let me off in my neighborhood
it was good to meet you
wonder when I'll see you again
once the guilt has washed away
I'll be back
to haunt the alleyways
where you hide in black shadows
I can see you running away
but you can not escape
I can see you running away
but you can not escape
hunted by the prey
hunted by the prey
hunted by the prey
Good Intentions
Everyone's just trying to please us
trying to make us open our eyes
some give us free advice
others sell Jesus Christ
some people pay for their salvation their whole lives
and never receive a sweet reprieve
or even pennies for their eyes
I don't believe in true intentions,
so don't tell me you're just curious
beneath the face
of all we fail to mention
we curse the heavens
furious
I'm in love with the morning sun
and all the passing trains
and you are just another snowflake
different and the same.
trying to make us open our eyes
some give us free advice
others sell Jesus Christ
some people pay for their salvation their whole lives
and never receive a sweet reprieve
or even pennies for their eyes
I don't believe in true intentions,
so don't tell me you're just curious
beneath the face
of all we fail to mention
we curse the heavens
furious
I'm in love with the morning sun
and all the passing trains
and you are just another snowflake
different and the same.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Talk Shop
something about the house felt like a song
creeps up like a peeling onion
i'm afraid of the way history is told
will the earth have air and water when I'm old?
when the bell tolls
confession is done
no one's going to carry me
so I'm learning to walk
one foot in front of the other
is that how we talk shop?
why do we even bother
waking up?
we say
give me space
push each other away
regurgitate scripted lines
waiting for our day to come
I just want to love everyone
but there's never enough time
that is my sentence
that is my punishment
that is my crime
words without action
work without passion
welcome to the new millennium
beat the dead horse
into a well rehearsed delirium
later rinse repeat
hold you're breath until you're beet red
drink until you're braindead
cry yourself to sleep
just
please don't
blame me
creeps up like a peeling onion
i'm afraid of the way history is told
will the earth have air and water when I'm old?
when the bell tolls
confession is done
no one's going to carry me
so I'm learning to walk
one foot in front of the other
is that how we talk shop?
why do we even bother
waking up?
we say
give me space
push each other away
regurgitate scripted lines
waiting for our day to come
I just want to love everyone
but there's never enough time
that is my sentence
that is my punishment
that is my crime
words without action
work without passion
welcome to the new millennium
beat the dead horse
into a well rehearsed delirium
later rinse repeat
hold you're breath until you're beet red
drink until you're braindead
cry yourself to sleep
just
please don't
blame me
Purple Blood
I don't get caught up in the past anymore
I've learned that photograph's never capture the war
no one wants to be the one to make a stand
no one wants to walk the plank
but everyone wants to see
the view from the edge
your face is shifting colors
I'm losing the friend I know
switching trains - changing lanes
I hate to see you go
but seasons sneak the years by
and children scream at the winter sky
while I try and meditate
you and I drift further and further away
without a hint of irony
without the sting of alcohol
what do we have in common?
pink tongues and purple blood
otherwise nothing
I've learned that photograph's never capture the war
no one wants to be the one to make a stand
no one wants to walk the plank
but everyone wants to see
the view from the edge
your face is shifting colors
I'm losing the friend I know
switching trains - changing lanes
I hate to see you go
but seasons sneak the years by
and children scream at the winter sky
while I try and meditate
you and I drift further and further away
without a hint of irony
without the sting of alcohol
what do we have in common?
pink tongues and purple blood
otherwise nothing
Move Along
I found peace
in a place I cannot be
visited eternity
but I could not return
to seek the truth
is an unforgiving battle
if you are here
for the scenic route
move along
move along
move along
the trees are all done turning
and the roads are all jammed up
the lakes and rivers frozen
go home and have a cup of tea
move along
move along
move along
someones president and all his merry men
drowning in flames at the gates of heaven
won't someone please let them in?
sorry, the lot is full
we are closed until further notice
move along
move along
move along
I found water
at the bottom of the ocean
what more could you want?
in a place I cannot be
visited eternity
but I could not return
to seek the truth
is an unforgiving battle
if you are here
for the scenic route
move along
move along
move along
the trees are all done turning
and the roads are all jammed up
the lakes and rivers frozen
go home and have a cup of tea
move along
move along
move along
someones president and all his merry men
drowning in flames at the gates of heaven
won't someone please let them in?
sorry, the lot is full
we are closed until further notice
move along
move along
move along
I found water
at the bottom of the ocean
what more could you want?
Five Dimensions
In this sanctuary I've got everything I need
the pantry's socked with sugar and sunflower seeds
good friends - travel on the weekends
domesticated like a wild animal
spoken like a true gentleman
and now in five dimensions
I'll find myself a burden to bear
lighter than an ice cube
but heavier than air
everyone stare at me now
does anyone know how he survives
with a dying conscience
behind chemical eyes?
we move through corridors
forced to carry megaphones
just to hear ourselves over
the white noise in our
aching bones
we strain to see the waterfall
thats imploding in the distance
are you with me
or against me
if this is our last moment
I must know
the pantry's socked with sugar and sunflower seeds
good friends - travel on the weekends
domesticated like a wild animal
spoken like a true gentleman
and now in five dimensions
I'll find myself a burden to bear
lighter than an ice cube
but heavier than air
everyone stare at me now
does anyone know how he survives
with a dying conscience
behind chemical eyes?
we move through corridors
forced to carry megaphones
just to hear ourselves over
the white noise in our
aching bones
we strain to see the waterfall
thats imploding in the distance
are you with me
or against me
if this is our last moment
I must know
Highbeams
I want to know how you speak my language
watch me set myself on fire
you are more courageous than I
when all color has been washed from the sky
how will you see yourself?
how will I?
a blank slate
waiting for you to paint the dawn
a fire escape
for you to count your prayers on
a rusty gate
for me to hide my secrets behind
a purple drape
to block all the light from the sun
driving through the snow
I imagine entering light speed
a black hole envelopes everything
outside of my high beams
and it's a beautiful thing
to go disappearing alone
at midnight in new england
when everyone's asleep in their homes
and there's nowhere for a hundred miles to go
but nothing seems to matter
when you're driving alone in the snow
watch me set myself on fire
you are more courageous than I
when all color has been washed from the sky
how will you see yourself?
how will I?
a blank slate
waiting for you to paint the dawn
a fire escape
for you to count your prayers on
a rusty gate
for me to hide my secrets behind
a purple drape
to block all the light from the sun
driving through the snow
I imagine entering light speed
a black hole envelopes everything
outside of my high beams
and it's a beautiful thing
to go disappearing alone
at midnight in new england
when everyone's asleep in their homes
and there's nowhere for a hundred miles to go
but nothing seems to matter
when you're driving alone in the snow
E2
I try to contain myself but I just build up
all the love I have to share is a well in my soul
drop a penny down the hole
too many hands to hold
I have light like a star
waiting to implode
sex like an electric guitar
bending a blue note
I try to contain myself but I just build up
sometimes I'm overwhelmed
sometimes I'm bankrupt
for now
I'll let you be my muse
and someday perhaps
this castle of cards
can unfold into the truth
all the love I have to share is a well in my soul
drop a penny down the hole
too many hands to hold
I have light like a star
waiting to implode
sex like an electric guitar
bending a blue note
I try to contain myself but I just build up
sometimes I'm overwhelmed
sometimes I'm bankrupt
for now
I'll let you be my muse
and someday perhaps
this castle of cards
can unfold into the truth
Friday, February 16, 2007
Answering Machine
when my father changes
his answering machine
for the first time in nine years
it sounds almost the same
(and then
I hear him speak my mothers’ name)
it’s a subtle revelation
the children all are gone
the clock radio in the warm kitchen corner
inches slowly towards the pantry door
stocked - in anticipation for war - with artichoke hearts (because
we are living in different measurements of time now)
but no ones keeping score for this overture of years
unless you count each
raindrop alone as a thunderstorm (but
I don’t)
nature doesn’t speak to me that clearly anymore
instead I’m forced to wait for
digital voices to change on rolling tape
at the other end of the line
as I drive through a thunderstorm of blackbirds
on my way to see a doctor
who I pray has one more silver bullet
waiting for me
his answering machine
for the first time in nine years
it sounds almost the same
(and then
I hear him speak my mothers’ name)
it’s a subtle revelation
the children all are gone
the clock radio in the warm kitchen corner
inches slowly towards the pantry door
stocked - in anticipation for war - with artichoke hearts (because
we are living in different measurements of time now)
but no ones keeping score for this overture of years
unless you count each
raindrop alone as a thunderstorm (but
I don’t)
nature doesn’t speak to me that clearly anymore
instead I’m forced to wait for
digital voices to change on rolling tape
at the other end of the line
as I drive through a thunderstorm of blackbirds
on my way to see a doctor
who I pray has one more silver bullet
waiting for me
Saturday, January 27, 2007
2006 Sketchbook Review
I have been inspired by Sky Cosby's post after ending a notebook, to just type out all his random notes from about a month or so, without giving much sense into what they mean. I just finished my own and I should at least say that a lot of this was written trying to figure out answers to Weffriddles, but no I won't be posting any spoilers here for people who are googling "Weffriddles Spoilers" and end up here on my blog. There are also sketchy plans for a novel I am working on, lists of things to do, band stuff, and just random thoughts. But never fear, read on, it will be ridiculous, I'm sure. Here it is, excerpts from my sketchbook at the end of 2006, each page separated by a line break:
Call Rob Abelow
Bring back Seinfeld DVD's
MOOG call.
Manchester movie stephane oil change?
2600? $400 + 1200 = 1208
Dresser of Drawers?
Copy of keys?
Braces for shelves.
Present for E, Mix CD?
RETURN SEINFELD DVD'S TODAY.
Internet is broken.
Love in America + The American Dream = Slow Piano?
A Dance Upon The Panic Floor Revamp, Ghost Town?
4 Bars riff 2, 4 bars bridge, 4 pre-gallop, 4 gallop, 2nd V - awayyyyyyy. End.
FL hospital, lawsuit?
Patrick Dunn ticket winner.
Marcel Eliot Conjurer.
L is monitor, R is speaker, Park in corner.
Oh, it's pretentious yes, but it provokes curiosity, engage people, include people, a puzzle, a game.
Broccoli Carrots Noodles.
We are apathetic and apathy is fucking pathetic.
This is the beginning of a game, a charade, in an attempt to make an impact.
You are now playing the game
(for those of you playing the other "game" my apologies for your loss, win, or even break)
Think of this game as action and not of thought.
Give them away.
Bring good into the world, stop worrying about money.
Call Dale and Dardic. Meds.
What is it going to take?
"Is that your final answer" stencil on garbage cans everywhere.
For more information about the message of hope visit www.cupofsun.com
Change that message of hope name, it's terrible.
Delegate, don't micromanage.
A story a secret a song.
The only time I use money for good is when I mark my book with a dollar bill.
Follow prospect until you hit park, then left. Zion to park.
I wouldn't take the pain away if I was given a choice
I'd let my sorrow cut a canyon for the river of joy.
Cartoon/Disney/Moving Hammocks!
Return Seinfeld DVD's TODAY!
Call nectars back.
Wobbly Barn - Up or on the rocks?
Meets a colony of moonwatchers in the future
One mans quest for control of his future
Governmental controlled science + Big pharmaceutical.
Trying to drug and barcode children based on work force/army needs.
Break down PC boundries.
Technological Terrorist.
Everyone stays indoors.
Televisions doesn't work anymore
Because the joy of false interaction that the internet provides has become too much.
No attention span.
Small rings worn on fingers that double as a mouse.
Take C.
Talladega nights, scanner darkly, proposition, inconvenient truth.
Middle sex street.
Egg and cream cheese sandwiches.
Macaroni and cheese grilled cheese sandwiches.
Tofu and egg noodles in asian garlic sauce.
$882
Mafia.
Wadsworth, Science.
Sleep Study.
Elisa, Crystal, Sky, Kelly R.
Synth, accordian, Gibson hollow body.
Washington Trip?
Messages of hope business cards.
Christmas cards.
Festival in spring.
The accident that led me to the world.
Igors Egg.
The Primate Fiasco.
Cold Duck Complex.
Nap Lajoy.
Apse.
Sean Frenette.
Chion Wolf.
Emma Weiss.
[Edit: all of the above are amazing new england musicians, check the out on myspace]
Gypsies, Tramps and Theives
Good old fashioned lover boy
Wading in the velvet sea (makes me feel things.)
Untitled 4
Natchaug Job
Posters
The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog
The consequence of apricots
Never off or even palidrome
Big Mac-abelli's canon explosion.
Not gunna let you down this time.
Chocolate and cereal.
Print mailing list.
I want to show you
god is love.
He said:
"You are my windy streets, you are my bright blue kite"
Lets fly away today.
I'm living on a floating dream
that's been had by thousands before me
why won't I concede?
I don't really have a choice.
I'm living on borrowed money and lost time
dead end highway nursery rhymes
by the tip of the wick
by the slip of your tunge
all my buttons come undone
Snuggle-side bombers
Snuggle bunches of oats
Snuggles: a game of world domination
Trivial Pursnuggles
Shoots and Snuggles
Battlesnuggles
Genital Snuggles
The industrial Snugglution
elimenope
eponemilie
men w/o hats - antarctic.
Bill is awoken in the middle of the night angrily
the goes back to sleep a few minutes later peacefully
that same night Joe wakes up happily
but a few minutes later is quite angry.
what is going on?
Five plus five plus four plus four plus three plus three plus two plus one.
Pool dragon mush.
Rent check oil check belts.
A shower in the dark
too much pepper in the soup
full stop.
Nooner
Put your hand to the plow and don't look back until you reach the kingdom of heaven.
He did this.
Wilco - Hummingbird off "A ghost is born"
Phish - Birds of a feather off "Story of a ghost"
Bird Ghost double themed mix.
End of the world mix.
Theremin
Umass Lowell
Noho?
MP3
9 inch fingernails?
Adult Unit?
Shane, Brendan, Class hours?
Homegrown Music
Tell Christian Flynn to go fuck himself.
Tony's Pizza
Bad thursday.
Eugenics actually are bad for breeding the perfect soldier/army.
Cross-bred humans would actually live and fight longer.
Dance with god
Guidance thing for mom.
Dissociative.
Staying on task.
April Vacation
Position could end.
Call Squirrel.
Takes things apart.
Large Ballroom
45 minute set
Union
I will not sit around
waiting to die.
Call Rob Abelow
Bring back Seinfeld DVD's
MOOG call.
Manchester movie stephane oil change?
2600? $400 + 1200 = 1208
Dresser of Drawers?
Copy of keys?
Braces for shelves.
Present for E, Mix CD?
RETURN SEINFELD DVD'S TODAY.
Internet is broken.
Love in America + The American Dream = Slow Piano?
A Dance Upon The Panic Floor Revamp, Ghost Town?
4 Bars riff 2, 4 bars bridge, 4 pre-gallop, 4 gallop, 2nd V - awayyyyyyy. End.
FL hospital, lawsuit?
Patrick Dunn ticket winner.
Marcel Eliot Conjurer.
L is monitor, R is speaker, Park in corner.
Oh, it's pretentious yes, but it provokes curiosity, engage people, include people, a puzzle, a game.
Broccoli Carrots Noodles.
We are apathetic and apathy is fucking pathetic.
This is the beginning of a game, a charade, in an attempt to make an impact.
You are now playing the game
(for those of you playing the other "game" my apologies for your loss, win, or even break)
Think of this game as action and not of thought.
Give them away.
Bring good into the world, stop worrying about money.
Call Dale and Dardic. Meds.
What is it going to take?
"Is that your final answer" stencil on garbage cans everywhere.
For more information about the message of hope visit www.cupofsun.com
Change that message of hope name, it's terrible.
Delegate, don't micromanage.
A story a secret a song.
The only time I use money for good is when I mark my book with a dollar bill.
Follow prospect until you hit park, then left. Zion to park.
I wouldn't take the pain away if I was given a choice
I'd let my sorrow cut a canyon for the river of joy.
Cartoon/Disney/Moving Hammocks!
Return Seinfeld DVD's TODAY!
Call nectars back.
Wobbly Barn - Up or on the rocks?
Meets a colony of moonwatchers in the future
One mans quest for control of his future
Governmental controlled science + Big pharmaceutical.
Trying to drug and barcode children based on work force/army needs.
Break down PC boundries.
Technological Terrorist.
Everyone stays indoors.
Televisions doesn't work anymore
Because the joy of false interaction that the internet provides has become too much.
No attention span.
Small rings worn on fingers that double as a mouse.
Take C.
Talladega nights, scanner darkly, proposition, inconvenient truth.
Middle sex street.
Egg and cream cheese sandwiches.
Macaroni and cheese grilled cheese sandwiches.
Tofu and egg noodles in asian garlic sauce.
$882
Mafia.
Wadsworth, Science.
Sleep Study.
Elisa, Crystal, Sky, Kelly R.
Synth, accordian, Gibson hollow body.
Washington Trip?
Messages of hope business cards.
Christmas cards.
Festival in spring.
The accident that led me to the world.
Igors Egg.
The Primate Fiasco.
Cold Duck Complex.
Nap Lajoy.
Apse.
Sean Frenette.
Chion Wolf.
Emma Weiss.
[Edit: all of the above are amazing new england musicians, check the out on myspace]
Gypsies, Tramps and Theives
Good old fashioned lover boy
Wading in the velvet sea (makes me feel things.)
Untitled 4
Natchaug Job
Posters
The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog
The consequence of apricots
Never off or even palidrome
Big Mac-abelli's canon explosion.
Not gunna let you down this time.
Chocolate and cereal.
Print mailing list.
I want to show you
god is love.
He said:
"You are my windy streets, you are my bright blue kite"
Lets fly away today.
I'm living on a floating dream
that's been had by thousands before me
why won't I concede?
I don't really have a choice.
I'm living on borrowed money and lost time
dead end highway nursery rhymes
by the tip of the wick
by the slip of your tunge
all my buttons come undone
Snuggle-side bombers
Snuggle bunches of oats
Snuggles: a game of world domination
Trivial Pursnuggles
Shoots and Snuggles
Battlesnuggles
Genital Snuggles
The industrial Snugglution
elimenope
eponemilie
men w/o hats - antarctic.
Bill is awoken in the middle of the night angrily
the goes back to sleep a few minutes later peacefully
that same night Joe wakes up happily
but a few minutes later is quite angry.
what is going on?
Five plus five plus four plus four plus three plus three plus two plus one.
Pool dragon mush.
Rent check oil check belts.
A shower in the dark
too much pepper in the soup
full stop.
Nooner
Put your hand to the plow and don't look back until you reach the kingdom of heaven.
He did this.
Wilco - Hummingbird off "A ghost is born"
Phish - Birds of a feather off "Story of a ghost"
Bird Ghost double themed mix.
End of the world mix.
Theremin
Umass Lowell
Noho?
MP3
9 inch fingernails?
Adult Unit?
Shane, Brendan, Class hours?
Homegrown Music
Tell Christian Flynn to go fuck himself.
Tony's Pizza
Bad thursday.
Eugenics actually are bad for breeding the perfect soldier/army.
Cross-bred humans would actually live and fight longer.
Dance with god
Guidance thing for mom.
Dissociative.
Staying on task.
April Vacation
Position could end.
Call Squirrel.
Takes things apart.
Large Ballroom
45 minute set
Union
I will not sit around
waiting to die.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Review of Apse's New Album, Spirit
Apse is a band that has no equal. I'm not saying they are the best band on the planet, yet. I am just saying that they cannot be compared to other bands, which makes writing a review difficult. Those who try and conjure up comparisons always come off sounding far fetched and forceful. It's like trying to shove a huge acoustic black cloud of warm static into a hallmark blue sky; something just doesn't fit.
And that's what Apse's music is, it is huge. Thick, abrasive, hurdling in a thousand directions, while at the same time, melodic, composed, symphonic. I have watched the progression of their style since their first EP, and on each release, they have tracks that are like arrows on a map, pointing me in the direction they are heading, without ever telling me where I actually am, or where I might end up.
At first it was the gentle harmonics on "Black trees/Blue sky" guiding me into a sea of guitars. Then on Three Dialogues it was the acoustic opening of "For an errand or a fleet". Then, I remember hearing "Keep" for the first time. When everything drops out and leaves just the plucking guitar strings and vocals, I felt a sense of awe as a musician, the "I wish I had written this song" type of feeling. And now on Spirit, Apse is once again breaking musical ground, giving me another arrow on the map.
Are they Rock? Ambient? Psychedelic? Indie? Prog? Tribal? All of the above? Check. Ezer Lichtenstein will pound you into the ground with his beats and leave you begging for more when the time is right, but he also can give just the right cymbal stoke in a moment of madness when the song calls for it. The guitars blend together, separate, strike, then meditate. But the biggest growth this album shows is the full presence of Robert Toher's amazing, strange, cryptic, beautiful singing (he has sung on their last two releases as well, but this album makes it clear that his singing isn’t an afterthought). I am usually such a stickler for being able to understand lyrics; I can't even enjoy Radiohead's albums fully until I read all the lyrics. But with Apse something is different. I guess I have come to the understanding that the vocals are meant to be just where they are, sometimes upfront, sometimes just a melody, sometimes an almost demonic chant, and other times a sweet poem written for a ghost. I actually enjoy listening to these tracks over and over to understand what Robert is saying, and when I can't, I enjoy his voice as an instrument which guides the intensity of the songs.
All in all, Apse is a band that I am sure will continue to defy genres, impress listeners, and make original music. And since they can’t seem to get away from it, I’ll explain what the comparison to Pink Floyd really means: When Pink Floyd came out with an album, you could be sure it wouldn't sound like anything you had ever heard. They didn't even sound like other Pink Floyd albums you owned. And that is what Apse does. They do something which is familiar and new at the same time. They are not afraid to take risks, try new things, change. Their "sound" is one that they leave undefined, blurry at the corners. It keeps them just on the breaking edge of music without letting them tumble off into lame post-rock nonsense. I still listen to each release of theirs, and find things I love about each one, and yet, they lack a true comparable element to each other, let alone another band. Buy Spirit or any of their EP’s, and you will have a new music experience to enjoy. How often can you truly say that about an album? And if you really want the full effect, I recommend putting on some headphones and taking a walk through the woods while listening to Spirit, you will probably feel like you are in the craziest movie you’ve ever seen. Trust me.
-Sam Dillon
And that's what Apse's music is, it is huge. Thick, abrasive, hurdling in a thousand directions, while at the same time, melodic, composed, symphonic. I have watched the progression of their style since their first EP, and on each release, they have tracks that are like arrows on a map, pointing me in the direction they are heading, without ever telling me where I actually am, or where I might end up.
At first it was the gentle harmonics on "Black trees/Blue sky" guiding me into a sea of guitars. Then on Three Dialogues it was the acoustic opening of "For an errand or a fleet". Then, I remember hearing "Keep" for the first time. When everything drops out and leaves just the plucking guitar strings and vocals, I felt a sense of awe as a musician, the "I wish I had written this song" type of feeling. And now on Spirit, Apse is once again breaking musical ground, giving me another arrow on the map.
Are they Rock? Ambient? Psychedelic? Indie? Prog? Tribal? All of the above? Check. Ezer Lichtenstein will pound you into the ground with his beats and leave you begging for more when the time is right, but he also can give just the right cymbal stoke in a moment of madness when the song calls for it. The guitars blend together, separate, strike, then meditate. But the biggest growth this album shows is the full presence of Robert Toher's amazing, strange, cryptic, beautiful singing (he has sung on their last two releases as well, but this album makes it clear that his singing isn’t an afterthought). I am usually such a stickler for being able to understand lyrics; I can't even enjoy Radiohead's albums fully until I read all the lyrics. But with Apse something is different. I guess I have come to the understanding that the vocals are meant to be just where they are, sometimes upfront, sometimes just a melody, sometimes an almost demonic chant, and other times a sweet poem written for a ghost. I actually enjoy listening to these tracks over and over to understand what Robert is saying, and when I can't, I enjoy his voice as an instrument which guides the intensity of the songs.
All in all, Apse is a band that I am sure will continue to defy genres, impress listeners, and make original music. And since they can’t seem to get away from it, I’ll explain what the comparison to Pink Floyd really means: When Pink Floyd came out with an album, you could be sure it wouldn't sound like anything you had ever heard. They didn't even sound like other Pink Floyd albums you owned. And that is what Apse does. They do something which is familiar and new at the same time. They are not afraid to take risks, try new things, change. Their "sound" is one that they leave undefined, blurry at the corners. It keeps them just on the breaking edge of music without letting them tumble off into lame post-rock nonsense. I still listen to each release of theirs, and find things I love about each one, and yet, they lack a true comparable element to each other, let alone another band. Buy Spirit or any of their EP’s, and you will have a new music experience to enjoy. How often can you truly say that about an album? And if you really want the full effect, I recommend putting on some headphones and taking a walk through the woods while listening to Spirit, you will probably feel like you are in the craziest movie you’ve ever seen. Trust me.
-Sam Dillon
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