1. |
Something Soft
02:31
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2. |
Intermittent Heart
04:36
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There is much to cover. Do you have hours to sit and listen?
I am told by my heart, intermittent, recall the once lived
vision. I shy away from merely speaking. Intuition is to breath the
same. I feel what began, instinctive, grown and
lived in. Never unsee what has seen, knowing, insistent
on being, on fleeing the impatient reason. It's a given, we won't
think the same. Hours ahead I know what bleeds my
heart. All save my stubborn clothes are torn apart. I open
this woollen weighty cloak. Uncover the interlacing threads
bound tight. Unwind the knotted head informed to flight.
Nearest to me I strain to free fear. Hone me your thoughts.
I'll swallow them whole. Cling to my robe. Cleave through
my heart. I’ll open your soul. Swiftly we'll fall.
Are we tenderly mistaken?
Gentle in transgression?
He craves real. I am real. I am knowing. He fought the
silence faint and found in a frame unseen. He craves real.
I am real. I am sensing. He sought the violence faint and
found in a fable peace.
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3. |
Shadow Thoughts
03:45
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It's his countenance, misinterpreted. A golden sustenance.
We nourish our minds to exist.
Are you afraid to ask questions?
Are you afraid to doubt?
Aren't you just missing out?
Believe me, I know. I’m held too close.
I can't justify myself, it's not about me.
My words are superfluous, my breath irregular,
when I try meaning what I say.
Are you afraid to ask questions?
Are you afraid to doubt?
Aren't you just missing out?
Believe me I know. I’m held too close. I’m held too close
I'm held too close. I don't need to defend. I don't need to
convince. I don't have the answers you want. I only have
the glow of my eyes. Gleam through our shadow thoughts.
Our shadow thoughts.
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4. |
Couch Walker
02:52
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I want to tie up all the loose ends. But I feel to equally toss
this braided pretence. I walked in, back and forth. Hold
me tightly, slack remorse. Watch me fall, gently. I furrow
my brow, pray, unravel the cryptic. Instead, I just yell.
I hear the echo's nonsense. All my words lack explanation,
proof or fact. I flirt with love and I question it. I'm left with
threads and a heart unkempt. A frayed heart unkempt. I'm
stuck in the middle, holding hands with both ends. Both
sides slip through my fingers, and I cry for grace glue.
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5. |
Quiet Satisfaction
03:44
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Oh, why don't you call it what it is, you feel threatened,
less important. What's obvious and clear to me, you're
holding onto the nth degree. Well, you shouldn’t. But
of course you wouldn’t. Who me? Are you talking to me?
You don't think I didn't recognize that tone? Who, she?
She's great. We'll get along just fine. Who, him? I didn't
even mention him. You don't think we're just friends.
Are you satisfied?
Satisfied.
Aha! So there it is. You admit it. Oh honey, you just barely
hid it behind your smiley luscious teeth, sharp and prepared.
It's only skin deep, if for some reason she should commit
treason. I told you so. I don't feel this way. I'd only offer
sympathy in spades. But if she were to deem it justified,
I wouldn't hesitate to deny her. Are you satisfied? Satisfied.
Are you satisfied? Satisfied.
Are you satisfied?
Am I satisfied?
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6. |
Lava
05:36
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Lava in the sky, dense as it unfolds below dark light,
rocking asleep all that was bright and hopeful, tucked
away for the night. I tried to be clever, to be right. But my
lips are frozen, my tender words stolen, from the cold-
hearted pines. The trees unbound to palpitating earth's
swollen ground. Red waters contend and rush in, the
hollow ground, they fill, where the trees that fell spring
ache. Oh, streams so red and deep, turn the smart and
weak. Heal the shallow lame to life, save the wound and
warn the willow's strife.
Crack the clouds, prove their weightless might.
Morning song, heal our tearless plight.
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7. |
Gold
04:35
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I'm returning to you. To you. I'm exerting for peace
and truth. Oh these hands, these weathered hands,
forming and moulding the dirt in the land. Oh, these
hands, these weathered hands, moving and softening
the earth. I’m returning to you. To you. I'm exerting
for peace and truth. Oh, these palms, these brazen palms,
pulling and pounding the song in my soul. Oh, these palms,
these brazen palms, rough as they cross ore' my heart.
A covering of gold so soft, a glaze so old. I'm told, a flame
by night, pressed cold. My form so tight. A line, I see in
part, where the stiff clay shatters and the world grasped
its heart. Will we find you there with hands in layers old?
Will you lift us? Our forms inlaid with gold.
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8. |
Paper Plain
02:53
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I noticed you. I'm not supposed to. I noticed you. I'll be
honest, I don't know what to say. Am I searching for the
right words to play? In this game that we fight, it's unfair,
you unwrite. Am I crazy or just plain unaware? I feel un-
heard, I can barely hear myself. I noticed you. I'm not
supposed to. I noticed you. Old and re-sent letters scatter
floors unanswered. Fill the glass in my face, my heart with
thin paper. Throw the tree in the river, it won't fit in a bucket.
This gift, this will win her. This love, yes I want it. I feel un-
heard, I can barely hear myself. I pray. I wait. I listen. I wait.
I pray.
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9. |
Daunting Dazzler
03:45
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Daunting, your warmth, I need you closer. But I find so tender,
a leisure in your distance. Stay far. But can I cling you slowly
as if I never have? Tension. Risk the danger of what seems
so unreal. I am presently desirous. But choose to stay out of
the cold. The curious. I can't look away. I stare endlessly at
the shambles, meandered lines and moulded monuments.
Show me. Bring me. Hold me through stunning clarity,
clever dazzler you are.
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10. |
Face Value
03:49
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I told you once, I told you twice, I told you a thousand times.
If you step one inch closer, you will understand, realize. I
am so much other than the skin on my face and the air
in my throat. Be careful what you think and what you say.
You crave what you don't know. I am surprised by my
emotional triggers, when I think about growing up into
adulthood. It's no longer, no longer simple. It's no longer,
no longer simple. All I thought of life, all I thought was so
sinful has begged me to question my pride's own obsession
for incessant wisdom. Yes, I'll admit I fumble over
incoherent territory. Defensively dance to a rhythm uninformed
to speak slowly. So, I breath quickly. One breath could
separate face value what blows away from what falls to the
ground. You claim to know me. I won't hold you to it. Only the
wind knows my name. I am surprised I hold onto what withers.
So, I'll drop my gold head to recover to face the ground. It's no
longer, no longer simple. It's no longer, no longer simple. All I
thought of life, all I thought was so sinful has begged me to
question my pride's own obsession for incessant wisdom.
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11. |
Timshel
02:02
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12. |
Lois
04:06
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I fell asleep as she had planned. The story still held the
beginning and the end. I dreamt her eyes see at night,
awake as her words move with tender sighs in her mind,
where the wild white bird surely glides. From unsightly
beginnings to pure flames at night. She used to play her
father's song. I soon gravitate to pick up my own. I walked
her home on open plains, sore and exposed, silent
and underweight, in her mind. Thick memories found
composed skies, slow moving and rising with rest in time,
where the wild white bird surely glides. From unsightly
beginnings to pure flames at night.
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Jenny Banai Vancouver, British Columbia
"She is able to ebb her voice in dynamic with masterful control, rocking you gently into a dream, yet gripping your ears to keep you awake: lucid and loose" (SAD MAG).
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