I

11 Aug

Great Lake Swimmers – Passenger Song

don’t know my hands,
the look, the feel of the skin
all buried in the sand

I don’t know where it starts and I begin.

The scariest part of realizing that you don’t like the things you used to, and that you are different from when you were a child is the fact that you didn’t seemingly choose this path you’re on, which means you have no idea where you will be farther down the line. Passing through dark tunnels, and only blind memories behind.
It’s impossible to tell anyone what you really mean,
And I’ve never been exactly as I seem.
All the ideas I write before I go to sleep,
are exactly what I dream,
but with more sheep.

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Feels like winter, black bear.

10 Aug

Sufjan Stevens – for the windows in paradise, for the fatherless in ypsilanti

and of course the video is beautiful.
My brain is several sheets being blown low under dark blue breezes, easing along the thoughts that ought to be turning gnashing not timidly lying around. A panic. Like seeing the scene, shipwreck aftermath, folks flung swung on beams of oak melting down into earth that borne branches that press against my brain.

image: kayschwag

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Hello

5 Aug

Rosie Thomas – Say Hello

Sometimes the times you never knew you hurt someone was the time it hurt the most.

Somewhere in the middle

5 Aug

Mum – Moon Pulls

The middle sea sinks – Forever drained, looking
watching Forever glancing, the glass-eyed coasts.
Never knowing coriander dappled drafts,
Nor the hug of the under toe tug
tugging coy orca cages silent
tree trunk grins they
grow through cheekbone windows.
Never feeling diamond cut tide tips,
misses crisp cuts, a kayaks meniscus.
The middle seas inks – Forever bled, trickled,
choking, Forever watching waves walking on.

image – Sleepychinchilla

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Minotaur

4 Aug

Sabicas – Fantasia Inca

I. The Labyrinth

Creepy doe-eyed motherfucker light-up fawns.
Christmas Plastic strewn on crunchy lawns.
Santa’s fire belly boils crooked grins aglow
agape at Frosty’s carcass, cloaked in polypropylene.
We’re drowning rocks in blackened frozen ponds.

This is no Starry Night.
This is no Rower’s Lunch.
This is Vancouver sky,
Eridanus beams all half-bright.

Walking. Stiffened sparkle sidewalks. Night.
Talking under quiet globes of light.
Wander wonder why we got so left behind
this maze of bending buildings
ebb in shrouded spiral tight.

Now your eyes are mottled grey.
Mirrors of a solemn maze.

II. The Beast

And I saw him, in the nettle-stung blister winter morning, sun growing, peering between mazes of leafless birch branches. I saw him in the leather coat, in the street, among the houses. Maybe we’d been up all night, he and I, and it’s too early to sleep now. He stands there blowing hot-breath dragon flames, growing older with every passing day.

image: Grant MacDonald

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The things we’d do if we hadn’t seen movies

3 Aug

Jon Sheffield – Dear Yma

This, the morning of shipwreck,
cut out of trees smeared with wet glue
folded above drifts of orange cream globes,
lighthouse lights and megaphones.
Maple leaf veins take the task of lighting the path
in the absence of the sun.
Below we move,
quiet minds in a quiet mist.
Buildings loom like masts and bully the meek.
They are men telling ghost stories.
They aim to scare, they aim to scare.

Let them be washed away
their crooked eyes and angry bricks.
Be washed away in this shipwreck morning.

image: kayschwag

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What did you learn today?

17 Jul

Colleen – I’ll Read You A Story


(The video is also incredible)
A silver strand
A single truth
Sharp as glass
Hard as tooth.                             yellow
                                       the        sun
               Yet here it is        in           flowing
                             dancing                 in
                                                   the
                                                summer
                                              air
                                           pecking
                                          grassy
                                           hair
                                            of
                                            trampled
                                                glades.

Setting fire
            to a bear
Sending all of life
                   to Hades
Reckless                    
        Warpath          
                          smoke and
                      the        dark         alone.
                    in           a           stand
          Yet ebbing         glint          to
                              of           meant
                           some          never
                           thing        whole
                              sharp    of
                                   a piece

I stay sitting because I remember who we used to be.
I don't stand up because I know who you are now.
But if you keep pushing I will slowly
                                      tip

                                        off
.
.
                                          the
.
.
.
.
                                          edge.
 image: netzanette

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I loved the things I couldn’t see

12 Jul

Black Moth Super Rainbow – Untitled Roadside Demo

and you only loved the things you could hold in your hand.

But I cut my fingers today, and couldn’t hold anything real well.
You told me about your children and what they should be.

You could pass on the torch, but don’t give it to me.

because you know,
my fingers.

image: John “K”

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Vision

6 Jul

Sufjan Stevens – God’ll Ne’er Let You Down

I had a vision, that the world didn’t end.

But you don’t see me buying up billboard space.

how dare

27 Jun

American Analog Set – Born On The Cusp (demo)

How dare I write about love. Still new to this world in the eyes of knotted woods. “Every child begins the world again,” and there are tread paths to follow. My eyes have seen some sunlit canopies, and I have seen stars through the leaves, and they have lighted my way in many a dark, unexplored night. I’ve seen deep inky caves, and crisp mornings in corn stalk plots, but the eyes of sewing needles have seen what I have not. Sewing needles not complicated, not bogged down or spiral eyed, a simple needle that’s hard to find.

image: JonathanCohen, colon+right.bracket

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