Drifting down that long dusty road
a long way to go
mystery on my right side and
lust in the back

We're watching the night sky from the rolled down hood
the pale blue paint on the car is like neon against the full moon night.
hair in the cool arid breeze
i look into my rear view and exchange a glance at the mistress
in my back seat

I ask Mystery if she's enjoying the ride.
she replies, "This reminds me what I dreamt about last night".
I try not to think about it too much - what she might be getting at.
She always had the ability to force me to finish what she was thinking.
and she'd always get the answer she wanted. How manipulative.

The gravel puncturing against the tires
the low rumble of the engine
the sweet smell desert lilies punctuates my last sense
I could drive on this road for all the nights left in my life.

Hopefully the sun will never rise again.
I could stay here on this lunar plane.

I've taken my time and here I am. for you.

Let me rest on this rock molten perch
look out over the vistas
there it was a vision a flash
of something to say
but like the maiden
she flees my overt recollection

I shall be full of repose
the light so full of shadows
the free form ghosts
which haunt me there
a forest invites me into its limbs

I stand in that hushed pine grove
insulated by the needle bed
the towering tops of Pinus Wallichiana,
Sciadopitys verticillata, and in its understory
Betula Nigra, phyllum, and the occasional earthworm.
Oh, this aged bark and all it has to tell
Under its dermis I dwell.
the cool sinuous fiber muscle of its strength
the cool rambling roots
the breathing stoma
I respire with the ages
birds flock to my limbs
I smile in my treetops
find great comfort in their kin
exhale and support the Yin
The Yang of me derives strength from them
My cool moist roots firmly strengthened, planted
the pesdestal, which I stand
I respire
and take in the damp earth scent
I find so pleasant
You know that smell
it's of richness and life
depth and
past lives

I will look to the sky
for my night's journey

Which door will you take?
1....
2......or 3......... ?

fucking brilliant

See your way here

Oh dusty traveler
Out in the distance
The long long night
you remember that dream I had.

Oh that one from long ago
Where we lie there just waiting
for the time to move
the time to crawl

What a time to live
Couldn't even think of a better time
to drink from your throat
This I will regret from time's end
Tomes lost

I've just lost all the charge of that spirit voice forgive me I'll leave before I give
into forced majeure
love for now..............fleeting

night has fallen and where are the majick seekers?

Fractals in the field
geometric intricacies
The shocks of the vegetation lie
there splintered, blown out at the elbows

Massive magnetic storm
From the heavens
They lay down their brilliant art
High from above you see me hovering
I am whispering in the treetops

Can't you hear my chant
listen to the leaves
that's where I commune
That's how we're bread to be (us KIND)

Within your lifeless frame
I lie inside you
Wait for the furrows
to plow us asunder

To give the girl a chance
to surrender
her fallicy
and be loved
and love just the same

Heal those wounds
my fallen creature
there's much to do
Too much to recall
maybe not this life
You've got time
We'll take your mind and line it with desire

Time is all we have
I think I'll have a drink
of that eternal salve
drink deep
and deeper within

Dream about monkeys in the jungle
and abandoned trucks drifting down city streets
looking for whats in them
looking for something to be bought
Your soul
it's sold for pennies on the dollar
On that black market
She supplied organs
I applied the gall
or to be lone and left to that palace

I'll race through those fields
Lift into the ethers
see the majic mathmatical
lye in the pasture
what an image
a self portrait
an unending coil
serpentine and sleek

this is where I'll be if you need me

A Week To The Day

time is a capsule before me.......
a long long listening time
time it stands upon you
time its slipping your mind

those lovely mortared buildings
strolling down that avenue
you tip your hat to a madame
a senora
you submit graciously
to your feathered flow

I remeber that time trying to get back
home listening to my inner voice
Ahhhh....what does she care?

Oh, a lot my Son
and alot you may never know
it's all for your benefit
it's all for your growth

time time time timetimtemitoimetimteimtiemtimetiemt


garbled message
garbled teacher garbled listener
I thought you knew........hahaha

crossing the fjord

I trampled onto a long lighted gaze
I knew you'd be there
to spell my name

I looked for you long
we'll try here low

Time is a fifty boy
strung out on the glassy sinew

I try to make it available
I try to see through
I try to see the singer there
with their
image strewn

I've lost another way
and gained my faculties
yes, it's a long long way from here to Valhalla

the ups and downs

Well, I gave them what they deserved
not really
A semi-satisfying gig.
I met some really nice people in Olney
and a web designer/basic tech guru from Kentucky
Gypsy was her name
I liked her vim
a home schooled girl
I kept thinking how open she seemed
and how the public/private school systems we have either forces you into submission or creates a megalomaniacal complex
nothing in between
it's all black and white. ha.
i kid.

anyway, back at home after the show
what a bummer
my girl and I
we just dont click
yeah that one that I said I am strangely still in love with
well, it's just not working.

I figure this is the two year itch syndrome I hear so much about
it is 2, right?

I was really tired last night and I am just waking from a much needed sleep
I am looking into getting my muzac up on the web this weekend
getting back into what makes me happy

It really is performing, watching people's faces in the crowd
wondering if they're thinking what I'm thinking
hoping I am getting my tangled message across
what is my message?

its so convoluted I don't really even know
these songs just emmenate
permeate and infiltrate
(wow, I just had a jesse Jackson moment)
punctuate
master.....
I meant it to be so more poetic
sometimes you got to laugh
at yourself

famished

Im staying hungry
deprive myself of substance
deprive myself and nourish all the same time
Could be a Polar Shift? Maybe? Hopefully?
I could be a time capsule for an the anthropologist of the future.

Lost on that equator line
where you thought you knew where you were
Only to be left standing
without your music
without your family
without your regard
only to see the tidal surge
the volcanic influx
the horrid, beautiful skies
that you always dreamt of
from this time

You remember standing on that sidewalk
going in circles
with the aeroplane in your hand
happy as a child could be
Do you remember those shifting sidewalks under your little soles?

Well, my son they're shifting again.
be sure your stomach has what it wants to be shownI love you and I always will
you are my aunt
my uncle
my Mother
My Father
there's only so much I can show
but feel confident and know
I DO LOVE YOU>

The only thing left is that drive
with the windows down
the recirc OFF
the sunroof ripped away
the wind bleeding in my reeds

My hands would love to hold you
My hands would love to howl on you

in the full moon light
You remember the spell
as a child I didn't think I was capable
of typing on my own was even a possibility

wolf bane
draW THE circle
draw the star
call to the spirit

An there they appear in all their beauty
and horror

I am left with nothing more to say.

Back on the Track and it feels good

I played out tonight for the first time in a while. It felt good. met some cool people maybe we'll start a band, who knows? I am playing tomorrow night in a coffe shop and I plan to give those people what they deserve.

As for this eveing, I put my all into it. I played some Hotel Womb from The Church and I shredded. Pepople applauded the solo.

I played some Patti Smith dancing Barefoot. What a great fucking song. You can get so loose with it. I played my originals that were very well liked.

Tomorrow, I play a coffee house in the Olney (somewhere in the nethers). I am looking forward to it. to get out there and share my passion.

lotS of love.

What a picture. It looks like a bunch zpped out rock stars making war n bloodshed. Maybe they're bezerkers?

http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/media/images/41442000/jpg/_41442913_troops_ap_203b.jpg

A keyboard in motion
stays in motion

Ezra writes:
Petals on a wet black bough
apparitions of faces on a subway

off to the sublime

Well, I attribute this jump start completely to a band I saw this past weekend. The Church. You may well know them - and you should, if you have a brain cell and a heart beat. This is the band that has reached where no other has tread. Yeah, I know Houses Of The Holy was fuckin phenominal and I know you want your Cake and you want to eat it too, but before I become too presumptuous, let me tell this band is worth it's weight in gold, my friends. If you dig music and you like deep lyrics then take hold and check them out. Start with Hologram of Baal and spread out. you'll find some moments lying by the window looking into pastures that were never there. Or are they? You might find yourself drifting off to Valhalla, or the Straits of Magellan, or over Tunisia?

Well, that's why I am writing about tomorrow night and its only this evening. I am getting myself out there and playing for a live audience once again because of these fellas. I had fallen asleep, gone to the withers, in a way. But, now I am back and I want to affect and cause an effect, I want to infect in the most positive way.

Let me take the time to thank the boys from down under and scandanvia and the noregian countryside.

I know I have a place and it is my music.

btw, here are some sites to get you up and running with the band, The Church:
http://www.thechurchband.com/ (official)
http://www.stevekilbey.blogspot.com/ (lead singers daily log of feelings and tour experiences, family outings and the frustration of being human)
http://www.hotelwomb.com/ (lead singer's artwork)
http://www.soundisidore.com/ (lead singer's collaboration with Remy Zero's Jeffrey Cain. must listen!)
http://www.hotelwomb.com/ (fan discussion board. good place to see where the hearts and minds are of the devotees)
http://www.karmichit.com/default.htm (lead singer and his brother's website. great samples and purchasing power)

Such a microscope on a single lifeform

I wake on the couch
You see, she does not welcome me
nor I her
I enter the shower and she lies there sleeping

Where have we come to?
What has happened?
all the well
I shower to rinse off the days previous din

I get in my car
Turn the radio to Refo:mation station
shut the windows close the doors
and I'm singing
into myself
into my fibers
into the one that really matters

navigate the traffic
look over at the proletarian next to me
trying to hump to work
maybe, hopefully trying to make a difference.

I must admit
I am happy at work
I like my role
I hope there's more to come within what I do

I like my comrades
they're not perfect
nor am I
who is

I try to make a difference
I try I try

After my day is done
I head home
I see that girl I so curiously am still in love with
She has been so good to me
been there for me
I feel
I am blessed

After a night of surfing I return to the couch
and wonder just where we'll go

Life is a strange strange trip.

You can't kill with Dashborad coffinessional on your iPOD

just read a story in Rolling Stoned magazine
where a soldier said - and I paraphrase - that you can't expect to listen to Dashboard confessional and be expected to kill. It' s more like Rage Against The Machine! Well, I would think that Rage Against The Machine would only make me want to start a revolution against my corporate, white collared crime and disparingingly divided society. Start with the root and work itself out. Gotta start at the cause somewhere, eh?

What have we come to when we are discussing nonchalantly what music we listen to before we go into battle? it's so impartial and callous and Holly-fuckin-wood

Then, on a lighter note I read about Mr. Vonnegut and his take on our current state of affairs. When asked what, if any advice he might have for the people that care about this planet and what they may do to counteract the savage abuse the human animal has brought upon it. He said, there is nothing we can do, it's too late. W. Could it be good 'ol W has broken the spirit of one of our greatest american writers.

Oh well, I was feeling so optimistic when I got home from work. What a bummer.

true design I've lost my will to conform

Lying in the wake
A caravan's exodus

Medicine man show
the shaman child
He was only brought to birth
to serve the wilderness kind

There she stands
1942
Her scarlet blood red lips
the mirror seems to crack a gaze

Ready to be a working woman
Ready to be a rosie
ready to show some what she's made of

In a long forgotten understory
soon to be revealed
She
is the matriarch
strong and soft with a weakness to fold
only to be let loose of what shes been told
what she communicates
what she knows like the reeds in the tidal drifts
knowing, waiting for the tide
the rushes rush

Now she is that matriarch the one we fear
she is suckled by both
life abounds
life astounds
until you are truly left lying by the fronds - a little god you may spy.
there is life in them there hills

Worlds couldn't be more further apart
Worlds couldn't be in more contrast
Worlds couldn't be more at your elbows.