Daduk – D’est en Ouest
To all the people I’ve forgotten,
And then…
A long way ago, or, a
short spell before,
I had been a careless man.
But now,
would I feel the majesty?
Could I spare the time?
I keep among this drifting foam,
upon the tired sea.
Magdalene above me.
Oh how I am vain.
I was in the bushes,
and you were on the mountainside.
And you did shout your name.
image: akabilk
Califone – If You Would
Silence torn before the sun was born.
Could it be a death of love?
Could you bring me some of that?
I don’t know.
Would you pray if you were asked?
I try to lie but I might.
Casting handfuls of voice in the
black abyss.
Maybe these are the timid miles I never saw.
Maybe this man is my enemy.
I couldn’t see his eyes in the rain.
But I imagine they saw ghosts of towers piercing
the sinews of the sea.
image: Sam Hood
Marconi Union – Nothing Ever Happens In Tunguska
I hope I dream another dream tonight.
I hope this proves to be a better year.
I’m swallowing a stone that won’t go down.
Upon examination fades away.
Elusive time it always gets away
with homicide. I’m left to slip slow down
in dip down sheets and dream this bitter year
away in premature moonbeams tonight.
image: AndyCunningham
Mimicking Birds – On The Warm Side
Sunday night boasts
a scramble brain
and a soft voice.
We slide
the weekend wind
a comet tail
shedding skin
in the night sky.
Just say if.
I’ll drop it all and fall.
Just say if.
No, come and help me lift.
image: Chapendra
Modern Drummer – American Analog Set
The best love stories are the ones I never heard.
An advertised love hangs upon the thinnest threads,
plinks high notes and treads.
They are the wailing melody to the bass in our heads.
A drone we hear from miles away.
The undercurrent on choppy days.
Cello strings cheats strung bow.
Won’t play notes staff page says.
image: Jerry Cooke
American Analog Set – Know by Heart
I would love to lay back and relive the past,
but fast passing volumes and fumes of the future go
trickling past.
The gas leaks quick and the last to leave will take the blast.
We plan plans and pray for fortunes fast.
We might drive all day, still not knowing
why we’re going, these busy hazy days:
Presently, patiently waiting.
But with you, past or present,
everlasting effervescent,
living to the future, not for it.
My love, my passenger in life, I’m looking forward to new pasts, pleasant presents, and old futures with you.
image:keighty
Beck – Farewell Ride
In solitude, or in the
locked eyes of a desperate song they
take me there, I’m
biking a hot day and a lonesome
run down boathouse rough road home
jut sand bank tell of fortune old as time
clock rocking the knotted rocker: grave
She sees me who I am and I came: the
future. Only memory scenes and I
am the sucker side of some cheap con
for I am not upon a bicycle nor
deep into a summer afternoon.
I see old days and I swoon
I live them a memory at each core
and choke seeds of cyanide that come
with each one. Ah, well, someday we’ll all die.
Sufjan Stevens – All The Trees Of The Field Will Clap Their Hands
Every time the curtains rise,
she sings her haunting melodies.
The ground bucks up and sinks the seas,
moon pulls thin air and drops the tides.
The seasinks of green and grey,
painting dizzy headlight canopies.
Turquoise canyons crash upon their knees.
The seasinks grin a grin and say
“Goodbye to you my frivolous friend,
You breathless observer, never a participant,
I leave the rigs to their haughty chant.
Their fog horns rowdier than an elephant.”
Curtains close and I feel ill.
Shrimp and crabs softly murmuring
patiently awaiting the coming seasings
and once turbid waters stand serene and still.
image: mechkad
Sounds of Faces – Rough Untitled
Show me the life of passion.
This oyster is too large for me to see,
bunker me, hunkered down hundred years of rations
If I’m willing to join the assembly.
I apply and turn my eye to the grindiem
I carpe my paycheck at the door and
log another day in my compendium
another day dead gone dead sand
I’ll mix with more. Overreaction?
A stalling friend of mine turned sixty seven,
Some strong people don’t gain traction
Some long lives forget to leaven.
Show me the life of passion,
I want to have a calling, a mission.
image: kayschwag
Califone - Our Kitten Sees Ghosts
For morning's sake I drug the blinds.
Morning descends the stairs
last night's blinds above her eyes.
G'morning.
I shrug and let sun slits slip in
slump and sigh.
I sit, cigarettes lit and drug.
For night's sake cognition abandon
body.
A kindness granted
given currentcaliber.
Sake's shadow and someones silhouette.
Steeped in silence.
Blinded three times,
he, drink, and night.
Now,
morning drags up the window panes
drags and stares at west sitting winds.
image: Matthew McVickar
acraein 