1. |
The Meddle Mine
03:55
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To stand upon the deck,
upon dead slats of tree flesh,
tethered together by metals pulled from the earth
There is a reckoning bell that sounds
made of different metals, sounding metals
Metals that were hewed out from the rock
There is a fountain, ever-flowing,
at the depth of the metal mine,
Where the thirsty and downtrodden often drink their minds away, for a time
Down in the metal mine
And they think their minds are metal for a time
Down in the metal mine, minds are gold.
An overhanging branch,
stripped its bark down to bare flesh,
tethered together by cells that just coalesce
There is an overcoming grief
as the mind won't settle, often meddles
Meddles that make the mind seize, like a rock
There is a fountain, ever flowing,
at the depth of the meddle mine,
Where the thirsty and downtrodden often think their minds away, for a time
Down in the meddle mine
And they drink: their minds are mental for a time
Down in the meddle mine, minds will fold
And they'd sink their minds meddle for a time
And the course of metal clanging for all time
And it's wrought, even flowing, as they climb, down the shaft on overdrive
Crying: Make me metal, make me mine,
Down in the meddle mine, where the mind's a spoke.
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2. |
Beyond the Craze
05:13
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No we didn't read the sign post
Not worth knowing, rather not know
And we're opening up the ground,
With some modern kind of sound
Were there something came out of place
Wouldn't notice at this...
Now we're tripping down the church tower
That's the module for the 12th hour
And we're sleeping upon the graves,
Sleeping nightmares awake,
And they told us we couldn't stay,
but we wouldn't take the bait,
And we're holding our flesh-worn hands
And we're dancing the fields in stance,
for today.
Fifty sonnets, dear Roseanne wrote,
20 dollars in her red tote,
And she throws it upon ground,
Casts that modern mischief down.
She's grown tired of folly's race
Craves a different kind of
Francis trods along the west face,
of the mountain, takes his last taste,
of the spring water running down,
makes a rushing, healing sound,
he wades out far above the waist, takes a moment in this place,
and he's gradually taken down,
such romancing is often found,
beyond the craze
Beyond the craze
we're all still living darlin'
Beyond the craze
the world's still turning, darlin'
Beyond the craze,
we're all still dreaming
Found a staff within a deep wood,
It had spoken to me, this wood,
Take me down to the land where bare
put a spell upon me there,
It's seemed odd so I turned to thought,
When I should have turned to prayer
Bare wood withered upon the ground,
Bare wood speaking, a voice, a sound,
Beyond the craze
Beyond the craze,
we're all still living, darlin'
Beyond the craze,
We're all still yearning, darlin'
Beyond the craze
We're all still dreaming
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3. |
Belladonna
04:31
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Belladonna, as your violet petals seduce the soul
Will you turn my night a deadlier shade?
As your satin berries fall to and fro,
You come to my aid.
Belladonna, will you fly me to the hidden affair?
Would you trick me into telling the truth?
Would you kiss me on a whimsical dare?
Is my asking so uncouth?
Belladonna, I cannot forget the future like a dream,
of the past, but bursting into the now,
as the tide shifts up upon me I lean,
out far on the bough.
You breathe, Belladonna, and the earth, it caresses your whim.
Strike the Earth, and it bends, not within.
Whereas the truth's in shallow water, we trudge, don't swim.
You cry, Belladonna, and the truth's at the tip of your tongue.
You'd tell the earth, but the battle is won.
You'd tell the sky, but it seems farther, up with the sun.
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4. |
Emergence
03:29
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5. |
Guardian
03:54
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There's a guardian falling
Land and winds, are all aware
Hear its bark, its branch clawing
at the closest star to there
There's a holy communion, 'neath its roots and speaking leaves
There's a conclave at my window of
redwood trees
And this house has sat for o'er a hundred years, beneath their shade
and they take one down,
with lines, and men, and blades
Now there's kami gone homeless,
as the cypress bones were laid
in the shadow of the marked one,
where they waste away
There's a stump of some giant, once obscured this house from sight
On the day I first walked here,
they had a crane up to the height
These old bones have held together now for o'er one hundred years,
And the guardian tree's dear spirit has held council toward the heavens
And this earth has held the guardian, as the sun has kept it fed, and its reach was over one hundred feet on high
As a home made of tree bones
shutters out the frigid air
Once this living wood stood vigil,
creatures in suspension there
Now I'm standing in the wood snow,
as the crane backs in the lot,
and the guardian sisters' tangled roots
are holding in a knot
Below earth, not time to count the rings of years of growth and stress,
Through the Civil War, the old world wars, the Golden Gate that marks the West,
It looked out upon the world without an eye, from just one place, and the guardian is falling here today.
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6. |
Unbroken Line
05:22
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We are e of an unbroken line
All matter ringing through space, throughout time
Look to the source of it all, look behind
your comprehension, the burden, the sign
There isn't nihil that doesn't matter
There is emergent meaning when this matter
Throughout the cycles it looks back, it knows
And by the Word of the story, remembers
And if the burden is looking through time,
persistent backward and forward, unkind
an ego formed when the now is beside,
In transit, point to perspective illusory
And if the garden's air beckons repose
And if the garnet's power exceeds the stone
Beneath the oak crest lies flesh, same as any,
But if it's yours would you cleave at the heart of it?
If it's yours would you draw out your soul,
lay it down as a blanket upon the earth
Would you roll in the leaves in the autumn,
With your soul unfurled bare, on the heap of them?
And could you heap up your heart on the fates?
For only time can tell what will transpire here.
In awe, the silence, is more than the wait
Upon a plan that won't unction the human race
As if the weather were worth more than love,
we spend our night planning outfits to outsmart nature,
Time spent divining the clouds every movement.
Lost to taboo to divine what should come of us.
But there's a movement that can't take a hold,
As it's a living and let go thing, all's ephemeral
And if you're searching for peace, it's beyond the symptom,
And if it's love you desire, it's contractable
Far past the innocence,
close to the shame,
Wherein lies reckless and selfless, selfsame desire
So like a burden, and too, like a flame,
And like the breadth of the sea floor, beneath the water.
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7. |
The Ink Never Dries
04:21
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Your heart, it gives a warm light
I hear it crawling in the dark of the night
The colors beget, we surmise
More than a whim though
you just open your eyes, and suddenly life begins
The colors, the ink never dries
It's no use mending where the paper grows thin,
There art meets its own demise
The arc of the wind, my own prize
In incarnation there's a mountain of whys
The mordant claim of our own lives,
And of our loves, and of our paths, and our ties
The archetypes of our sin.
But the colors, the ink never dries
And of the wellspring, when we drink, we'll be kin
Our art will alone suffice.
We're only living. We cry.
It's not imagined, it's the sea in our eyes.
The colors beget, but don't buy
And when I see them, when we meet eye to eye
My time-twisted soul you win.
The colors, the ink never dries
And with a brush, and with the art of the pen
Your art can collude with mine.
The colors, the ink never dries, and on the parchment, where your ink's soaking in,
I'd swim your wonder whys.
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Astral Prince Sausalito, California
- Astral Prince -
North Bay native, musician, friend, suburban shaman.
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