Music & Words‎ > ‎

Fire Poems (2012)

FIRE POEMS

From a dry wall filtered atmosphere

We venture out now, on this blanket of leaves

Undressing, we can sleep and dream

Lay peering out at the ceiling of stars

A similar scene that we saw in spring

We see now, but it`s fall and the wind is rushing to steal our breath

From a dry wall filtered atmosphere

We venture out now, on this blanket of leaves


ALL BOATS DON`T RISE

No show of subjective response

No circle with a back-slash on it


The oceans are coming

The oceans are coming

The oceans are coming

The oceans


This is the king’s version of the truth

He’ll knock on wood but kiss and tell


The oceans are coming

The oceans are coming

The oceans are coming

The oceans


What are we waiting for?


No show of subjective response

No circle with a back-slash on it


The oceans are coming

The oceans are coming

The oceans are coming

The oceans


What are we waiting for?


Don’t look away, don't look away (what are we waiting for?)

One hundred percent, one hundred percent (what are we waiting for?)


All boats don't rise


LAST NAMES & BACKGROUNDS

Colour us in the jewels and lay us in a mine

For street silver and fool’s gold rush


Colour us in the future because it’s the only thing we ever had

Paint your favorite photographs and draw on the memories


What’s your name I’d like to get to know you

It seems like we might share some things in common

We don’t share the same last names and backgrounds

But we might grow…we might grow


NOWHERE TO GO

Another structure, another caste

Stoke the fires that radiate

Take the pen when the page turns white

This body is so thin


Enclosure, debasement

But it’s not just and it’s not funny

When the commons are not so common now anymore

Are they?


And they might never be found…


It’s the bursting that was ever wanted

It’s the blasting that was ever needed


Enclosure, debasement

But it’s not just and it’s not funny

When the commons are not so common now anymore

Are they?


And they might never be found…


It’s the bursting that was ever wanted

It’s the blasting that was ever needed


There’s nowhere to go


It’s the bursting that was ever wanted

It’s the blasting that was ever needed


Another structure, another caste

Stoke the fires that radiate

Take the pen when the page turns white

When this body is thin


There’s nowhere to go


SHE FELL (IN 1914)

She fell, it was a Sunday

In nineteen-fourteen

Her house, it was in shambles

And they're killing all her animals


Get out, I mean it

This is no place for you

Get out, I mean it

This is no place for you


Just like tattoos of bruises

Make the saint a soldier (a soldier)

Just like cigarette ash fall

They fall to the water


Get out, I mean it

This is no place for you

Get out, I mean it

This is no place for you


SAINT LAWRENCE EDIFICE

St. Lawrence edifice that I helped build

More than just iron, more than just stone


Hanging on

These are my limbs … set to ashes


My fire poems, my sinking ships


This lonely artifice that I can’t break

More than just gardens, more than just a wake


Hanging on (hanging on)

This is my flesh … set to ashes


My fire poems, my sinking ships


I went for a walk and I went down the main street

The main street of my home town (on a windy day)

And I walked to the mansion, the mansion that all the tourists go to

For a little museum tour (on a windy day)

And I spent three dollars to walk around

I saw the ivory room and I saw the billiards (on a windy day)

I saw the room that all the prime ministers came to, 

to eat their dinners with the patriarch (on a windy day)

And I saw the establishment and I saw the parliament (on a windy day)

And I saw the bourgeois and I saw the opulence … set to ashes


My fire poems, my sinking ships


We lay on the river bed, the river bed (on a windy day)


FRACTURED MOON STREETS

On the fractured moon streets

In the back to back yards
By the school ground`s path

In the half empty garage

We would meet


When your parents went away

When you would borrow their car


We would ride


On the fractured moon streets

We`d lie about where we meet


When we would meet

We`d have eidetic evening

When we would meet

We`d lie about where we`re sleeping


And just sleep 

We would sleep


On the fractured moon streets

We`d lie about where we sleep

Sleep


BISON

Oh heart and lungs

Your lips and tongue


And bottomless poems that I sink into

Every time I think about you, I think about you all the time


You said you thought you would never hear my voice again

I said I thought it was oh so hard to speak 

when we were 3000 kilometers

Away a way away a way


There's blood on the snow 

And it's rushing like water 

Down, down the crimson falls


And bottomless palms that I sink into

Every time I think about you, I think about you all the time


You said you thought you would never see my face again

And I said I thought it was oh so hard to see you 

when we were 3000 kilometers (apart)

Away a way away a way


We use art as a weapon (provinces apart)

We use art as a weapon (providence at heart)


TIP TOE THROUGH THE GALLOWS

In finite speeds, a worried look

From the old world, from the old world


You’re the hangman

Don’t lay your hands anywhere near here


No static world, no static world


Tip toe through the gallows, a haunted look

Gross symbiosis, gross product


You’re the hangman

Don’t lay your hands anywhere near


No static world, no static world


ENSEMBLE OF POINTS

With the ancient plains of energy

Veins of youth seize glory

The quiet riot of passivity falls on steep ears


Beginning just another day

But so new and resounding

The ensemble of points realize that they are made


SOCIAL MOTION

So I'm sitting there and this guy comes up to me and he's like, 

'I'm going to call you an offer'

And I'm thinking, 'this could be a blessing in disguise'

All over the place there's unnecessary evil

And he says, `it's a necessary evil`

And I'm thinking ... and I say, `no, it's unnecessary evil'


So I'm sitting there and this guy comes up and he's like,

'I'm going to call you social motion'

And I say, 'that cuts like ice'

And he says, 'but it’s something to write home about'

And I can't argue with that, I can't get it out of my mind

It’s something to write home about, it`s something to write home…


Stones thrown make a path

Cause we are disparate

Start all over (make a path)


This guy, he won't leave me alone, he just keeps repeating these phrases over and over again:

'A discount for the wordless...A discount for the imperial'

I don't know what trying to say to me but all I keep saying to myself over and over again is:

'There must be something to write home about`

Over and over and over and over … `there must be something to write...'


Stones thrown make a path

Cause we are disparate

Start all over (make a path)


VISITATION RIGHTS

These ancient ruins are … something to believe in

There`s crumbling limestone reflected in your eyes

When the photographs get old, when the sun turns cold …

Come visit me


These drunken poets are … something to believe in

There`s perfect language infected in your blood

When the bottle gets low, when the flowers won`t grow …

Come visit me


These forbidden fruits are … something to believe in

There`s pathetic fallacy dripping in your lungs

When the shit hits the fan, when you`re Frank comma Anne …

Come visit me


Come visit me, come visit me, come visit me


(c) 2015