The Desert: Children of the Sun I’m dreaming for these, these months to come, that they’d be brighter than the sun, and may we reach out, reach out our arms, to find what’s near and what is far. Reason’s hope and reason’s fate, that we might find ourselves today, embracing hours and moments stitched. In such time we do exist. And still I’m dreaming of these, months with rattled suitcases, pictures of… the ceaseless faces, traced above, painted colors, of the sun. I am no prophet, for future’s sovereign, land extends beyond my pockets. Surely we without knowing why, care so deeply without showing. How to show and how to read, these small wonders may always be. These hands they shake now, watched out awake, only in song can one relate, And still I’m dreaming of these, months with rattled suitcases, pictures of… the burnt out lanterns strewn across, the wooden floors with ancient moss, the people talk as one, their messages written as they run, their ceaseless faces, traced above, painted colors, of the sun. the ceaseless faces, painted colors, traced above, because we’re children, children of the sun Graffiti Shooting blanks off the canvas, happens water in a cold stance. I feel fine, yet I'm restless of a different kind. Am I low? Am I low and away? And I low? Am I low and away? Seconds tick, my pulse is quick, this soul is yearning to ROAM. And I get the feeling that You're healing my bones, And I get the feeling that You're healing my soul. Walking in this city, am I walking alone? Are You with me? Can You hear me? Am I walking alone? I'm like the wick of a candle, or falling quartz off a mantle. I see fine-flamed reflections. I thought the clock had died. Oh why? Am I low? Am I low? Am I low and away? Seconds tick, my pulse is quick, this soul is yearning to ROAM. Where've you been, Innocence? the flash and the color looking outside in, this window is finishing the pictures, in my head The currents and the silence, the beating of my heart, the grip of the violence, is keeping us apart, And there's, there’s writing on the walls, like graffiti on my heart. Vagrants Pieces, of shells washed up on the beach, within footprints, A hundred facts, impressed into the sand People are walking, carrying their dreams, on their backs, like mystics, in a caravan from the east, Fragments of atonement fell, into the well. How might we retrieve them? We come as kings and queens, like vagrants in disguise, travelers following, this luminescent guide, now higher than the human race could reach suspended in a moment. What style could still, within the looking glass, above the aisles now filled with vagrants? It was the culprit so elusive, so ephemeral… held, Fragments of atonement fell, into the well. How might we retrieve them? Is it so? Treehouse Clashes filled with political motives, power-trips in our heads, can’t stop the revolutions, spinning in a lost cause looking for something, and it’s here, I can tell, somewhere far below the surface, you’re not well, and you’re here, so still, almost frozen, so I’ll, hold a light, to your darkness inside, and we’ll wait for the break, give this another try. This seems like another one, of those broken puzzle pieces. There’s a treehouse in the middle of nowhere, standing in the green wide open. “Unadorned,” says a soothsayer, simple as it lives is the truth there. Cool mist floating through the windows, constellations like signals in the dark, Constant still anticipation, shepherds running over the hills, The splendor of a midnight clearing, fortunate witnesses rushing, Then their hands tensed up in fear. All of us were saying, How the robbers keep robbing, and the players keep playing, don’t stop, don’t stop, praying for a miracle, Let’s, take some time, to give some thanks, for the ones, for the One who gave us everything, beyond, beyond, a love that’s deeper than anything, So I’ll, hold a light, to your darkness inside, and we’ll wait for the break, give this another try, This seems like another one, of those broken puzzle pieces, of another life. Make Us a Shelter Make us a shelter, for a day when it’s raining, outside, on a cold winter’s night. and we’ll take these stones, and place them where our hopes, are growing thin. The sand beneath my feet, refuses to stand still, while the wind and the waves, carry it away. So we set off so boldly, with every good intention, Oh, did I mention? we’re starting again. Still we’re cold with doubt, figuring the folds that frame this house. We turned inside out, watching all the walls fall down. Young: Down in the Glade down in the Glade where i walked yesterday i saw script written Fate staring back at me saying “You cannot face this alone oh no there’ll be angels awaiting your Prodigal Soul” there is a Grace i am sure, i am sane this is how I left off this is how i began “come out slowly crawling on your calloused hands and knees” then a Voice came soft and low it was only a whisper lost in a crowded room there is a Grace i am sure, i am sane this is how i left off this is how I began As the Cedars Grow I don’t want to take Your Glory I just want to fill my cup after all this is Your Story all I can do is empty myself in you are the Potter and I am the clay you are the Writer and I am the ink with every stroke I am made I am made Whole And Pure As the Cedars Grow I don’t want to steal your Glory I just want to fill my cup after all this is Your Story all I can do is empty myself in Love Invenire Te I was just listening to a Transmission to the sound and the frequency of a car as it fades down the street and Your window was the Medium between the faintness oh the faintness of a minute’s Wish is Evidence buried in my Youth Oh I Pray because Faith in the Restlessness State, is to be One with the Silence of the Infinite Only just a Sojourn is the Moment that we hold So Sacred our Souls How we cannot comprehend Them I was just holding Your Head in my hands Like a Child with a smile From an innocent Desire I acquiesce oh the faintness of a minute’s wish is Evidence buried in my youth Oh I Pray that We remain Fragile within the Fear and the Awe that’s in this Space because Faith in this Restlessness State, is to be One with the Silence of the Infinite Only just a Sojourn is the Moment that we hold So Sacred our Souls How we cannot comprehend Them I want to know You Why are You so shy? Invenire Te Kharizestai how the priest's four Words could chase the fullness of the present state the message fixed in Symbols lit the language fails to capture it Efficacious as a dirge within the words that call to Earth heaven's mirth the emptiness Kenosis as the Body rests Chris Rod got shot outside the park He was walking after dark He got caught between the Harm the Hurry of the Crossfire He became the Scapegoat slain motionless on pavement lain His arms outstretched His figure framed a gesture of His silent Pain Veronica was running late she'd just locked the entrance Gate and as She left the Sacred Lane She witnessed how the Victim cried "Why have You forsaken Me?" What Veronica saw between the shakes and the coughs the Bloodstains on Her Cloth reminiscent of the Face of God. I am blind calmest wit follows qualms within like snow then crystal thin rogue ice cold guise hard to recognize at night spies I need to hide before they find my Tracks I cannot wait another day a demon's quip lay motionless locked in wilderness (a Klondike abyss) rogue silence quiet violence hard to recognize the mind spies I need to define before they find my tracks I cannot wait another day Who am I? I am blind Medicine Man Oh... your weary arms, hold you together, you're delicate as a feather, my love. Oh... your feeble bones, are breaking under the pressure, breaking under the weight of all you've done. No, you don't have to conquer this one. Your eyes... are half open, it's no use closing, it's no use closing them now, 'cause when you see your self clearly the image starts to fall away, and I can begin to make you well. No, you don't have to conquer this one. Small Feel As I gaze at the golden mosaics my eyes sweep high across the ceiling I feel small I watch the grains stretch out the ancient stones resound in a hymn to how we are present now Oh, it is good in the darkened quiet Your Presence all that Surrounds us now As I phrase with slowness in haste and I stand in front of Your gaze oh I feel small I watch the grains stretch out the ancient stones resound in a hymn to how we are present now Oh, it is good in the darkened quiet Your Presence all that Surrounds us now You said to me within a quiet smile oh how I love feeling small now You Are Who Is I feel that You Are I know that You Are I believe that You Are that You Are. from Corazón: Come Back From the Deep "Down in the alley, away, six floors down, he could see a cracked flower pot scattered over a spray of dirt and something pink sticking out of a green paper bow. It was down six floors smashed down six floors." 'Fuck,' said the modern man, the post modern soliloquist, talking in circles, around his friend the ventriloquist... (I keep running around) "'I don't understand Ivan, what does it mean?'" <FRIGHT> [with emphasis] no, it's you! [with force, accusatory tone] "'Is this just a wild fantasy or a mistake on the part of the old man, some impossible quid pro quo?" "' For the secret of man’s being is not only to live but to have something to live for. Without a stable conception of the object of life, man would not consent to go on living, and would rather destroy himself than remain on earth, though he had bread in abundance. That is true. But what happened? Instead of taking men’s freedom from them, Thou didst make it greater than ever! Didst Thou forget that man prefers peace, and even death, to freedom of choice in the knowledge of good and evil? '" "Midway upon the journey of our life, I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost." “'But ... that's absurd!' he cried, [flushing]. 'Your poem is in praise of Jesus, it does not blame him —as you meant it to do. And who will believe you about freedom? Is that the way to understand it? That's not the idea of it in the Orthodox Church...'" (feast or famine...) (you can't believe what your feelings teach ya, you've gotta go your own way, spread your wings and fly away over the sea as it drowns the world) "'But the little sticky leaves, and the precious graves, and the blue sky, and the woman you love! How will you live, how will you love them?... 'With such a hell in your heart and your head, how can you? No, that's just what you are going away for, to join them... if not, you will kill yourself, you can't endure it!'" "'Everything is permitted ... everything is permitted, is that it?'" (Catch all the rainfall in your Blue Bucket of Gold, where do your footsteps fall, when you're getting older? Every day I'm getting older..." Come back, come back, come back, come back, come back, from The Deep Letter to Self Oh, brother, you need some time and space away, alone, just some time to think, You've been carrying this weight your whole damn life, now it's time to let go of it, (high) time to let go of the habit you know so well... Self hate and disdain, tricks you into thinking you're the one with the key it's a disease, my friend, oh, but it isn't the end, You're free, to just be, as the Good Lord intends, let the facsimiles fall, (this knot is not who you were intended to be at all) Love yourself! Don't ever forget your Belovedness or anyone else's Kindness isn't weakness, (Love yourself!) toughness is only defense, When you gonna, gonna start living for real? When you gonna let yourself drown in Grace, Right now it's the opposite of what you think, You don't have to solve this Mystery, You don't have to solve this Mystery, You don't have to solve this Mystery, let Him instead. Friends It looks as if we've found ourselves way up in a tree, Oh, it's alright, if we stay a while, I don't really mind it here. I've got a lot of good people on my mind, I'm not looking to be distant strangers, Maybe we'll all sit out by the campfire singing kumbaya... watching sparks fly up into the sky... I look at where we are my friend and it seems we've grown apart somewhat, Oh I believe in what the distance brings though I'm bound here to waiting patiently. I've got a lot of good people on my mind, I'm not looking to be distant strangers, Maybe we'll all sit out by the campfire singing kumbaya... watching sparks fly up into the sky... (into the sky...) The weather outside, can't affect your mind if you don't let it now (oh you won't let it now) don't let it get inside and hide that light you've got to let it shine (you've got to let it shine) I'm saying 'no man is an island' we're together in this 'no man is an island' we're together in this You And The Flume The sky inside and the silhouettes in view amidst the subtle hues, Moving through the scenes and the motions the motions, And the rise the ocean and I thought I saw the water, thought I saw the water, but the grain the grains of sand surrounded us (oh, they surrounded us!) while the visions came and went I could have been caught up in the mirage of the barren land beyond the fence in an arid sand nothingness I could have thought I saw when the film fell off... ...You. Sometimes we survive like animals like beasts in the wild the Truth so elusive oh the sieve settles and strains distills and all that retains oh, but the shade, drew away and Your arms surrounded us (Your arms surrounded us) while the visions came and went I could have been caught up in the mirage of the barren land beyond the fence in an arid sand nothingness I could have thought I saw when the film fell off... ...the likes of You. Author of Life Who is the father of chaos and lies and who is the author of life? for all of diabolos's schemes and scattering he surely must know he's in vain And it takes a toll (And it takes a toll) "I can't believe what you've done..." creation groans and aches what did the Spirit see As it left the Son's broken body And descended into a sea Filled with souls locked in Dante's Dream? Oh, how can a Father of lights from above watch as his Son dies below? for a moment it seems the deceiver is king while the Temple Veil tears into two And it takes a toll (And it takes a toll) "I can't believe what you've done..." creation groans and aches what did the Spirit see As it left the Son's broken body And descended into a sea Filled with souls locked in Dante's Dream? Nostalgia rise and fall of empires so alike and time so constant as the tide lists and strings not trying to forget and pace so constant as the race so crawl out from underneath your skin, you've been a'hiding in... lift off that blind so you can see, you're standing in the moment is this a mirage? or is it my heart? hiding in corners of picture frames keeping me awake... and I didn't even notice, that my camera's out of focus, and the likeness of a sight, 'til it was gone... is it too late? moving s l o w l y d o w n these lanes here in my hometown... how? say what you wanna say, remember everything is memory everything? Fiction Facade: Galilee Now we're talking in our sleep the people look like trees with their arms around their knees <behind their eyes> (fantasizing of their dreams) of a life that they could reach if only grief could be deceived "at present, we see indistinctly as in a mirror," staring into the abyss of conscioiusness wishing for it to be a little bit clearer and reveal itself the chaotic, cacophonous f-f-f-fear of the distance that plagues us Now I'm a blind fool half asleep while the children learn to pray and the women start to weep because they see the time, the coming of the day when the wolves walk out the woods waking sheep from out their sleep when they begin to scatter wondering what was the matter with their sleep and their dreams lying shattered in the grass or rather disappeared into the clear, thin air then they will gather, then they will gather all around in the pasture to the sound so unfamiliar, yet familiar (a mysterious voice sadder, yet happier, more joyous than any noise they'd ever heard before) "at present, we are sheep seeing indistinctly as in a mirror," staring into the abyss of consciousness wishing for it to be a little bit clearer and reveal itself the chaotic, cacophonous f-f-f-fear of the distance that plagues us (do sheeps even dream?) in the end the metaphysics are cryptic if only we could settle to be still and just listen to the voice of the Mystic but then, just then, that second the watchman will come walking out to say that the Mystic is dead (this chapter in our conceit has ended) -but wait- not yet, maybe it's through His very Death the sheep will be redeemed! after all, the tomb was left empty, "stop holding on to me, Mary" <Peter's threefold denial by the charcoal fire> was answered by another scene with another fire on the sea of Galilee what if the whole world stopped to slow down, took a deep breath, meditated, looked around appreciated the splendor that is to be found in Creation's sacred manifold Christened by the Holy Ghost? Streams Come upon the wishing well, Find out how to tell, Catch that spell, I want to know, Just how You know, My name, Name… Five men I have slept with, I have seen, I've called my own, But You know just who I am, And You know where I'm from, You're the answer Whom I seek You tell just who we are, One more husband, One more man, And then you come along, You come along. Phases I took one look and I knew I was wrong, I had the words in my head, but I just couldn't connect the dots, spit them out on the pavement as we walked along, Next I'm in a phase, this game of chasing right words to say Oh, I'm a fake She can tell I'm just aching to say it This matrix has me in a daze Your face elated Conversation's next step We're in phases This one's two Fellowship and it grew Into a tree, blossomed And the birds of the air Can nest in the shade Phases Oh, I'm going through phases going through phases Three, I'm talking with you late at night Sharing my darkest Walking next to a parked car Rusted out Left to the elements Go figure It's a testament I'm a testament You were Heaven-sent Praise God, I'm now downtown Staring at the silhouettes Of the buildings Across the federal highway Catching glances from the neighbor He's a recluse With a Civic, Nineteen Ninety Maybe Later That cat was using asphalt shingles as wall paper Stances Just a phase Now we're moving on living for the weekend And our love is strong We're looking up Now Grandpa's gone in a minute It seems like just yesterday I was watching him across the street Him telling me Son you need a haircut Life goes by fast I'm elated Stayin away from the social media Keeps me from getting jaded Remember who I am As I'm passing through These phases on my way Create Scenes fade Lights out New Phase Conscience I reckon I had the chance to have another but I gave it up because my conscience was calling and in the end it just wouldn't permit it. Consciousness and its invisible strings me to another thought Why do I wanna choose either right or wrong or nothing at all? It's been a long day come a long way writing songs keeps me focused on the better days It feels like I've been running for days Now I'm living off of hope in a feeling When the feeling's gone then where do I go? Chase down a mirage some artifice, a montage of images Gotta find a way to get back oh, but I can't get back, Oh, I gotta get back I could fall in love again and again with you show me the way, Sydney, I need you now more than ever This is my letter I wanna be better How can I show you in so many words all together You are the other the Almighty sent to walk on into the darkness of night It blinds my eyes and burns away, burns the imperfection in the night burns the imperfection in the night It's a darkness so bright its light is a relative night. Arthur I heard tell rumors of a misfit living locked within the walls In the house across the street And the talk of the kids Spells of a tragedy waiting to happen Oh what happened? And I don’t really know, Father said there are so many ways to make A man into a ghost The folks tend to throw their stones and arrows At the first sign of unlikeness they see On projection screens His clock stopped ticking His vision’s fixed on a scar, an image from his past And the knot in the hollow Tree holds a labyrinth of string Unravelling Threads catching… throes And, Jem, I don’t really know, Father said there are so many ways to make A man into a ghost And the folks tend to throw Their stones and arrows at the first sign of a likeness they see On perception reliefs Oh, I’m just a kid, How can I commiserate with a shade, a ghost? That fateful moment He saved our lives And vanished straight, Vanished straight into the night. What’s this gotta do with me now? Don't freak out, Scout, you were brought up honest It's just the time in which you're living Has a little problem with sin, come to think of it, It’s not an isolated incident Welcome to the human condition Keep coming, cross the Chattahoochee river, Come to find the same lines, ghettoized, redlined districts All the white people swimming poolside summer time While the humans, colored skinned, told to keep a distance, as if melanin’s an illness you’re a witness to the business of a grave injustice, Booker T said the separation should Be equal, nice sentimental feeling, though he’s well intentioned, fingers of the hand are all unique. I shouldn’t fail mention Gotta say I’m still living in a legacy, a pageantry, Drenched with the blood of a nation under quote white Jesus end quote Now, friends, don’t get me wrong we’ve come a long way From Malcolm X and MLK, still need a Love Supreme, Coltrane, you’re a genius, I listened to that record for days on a steady repeat sitting at my desk drawing straight lines for a living Come to find that most of the ones in my mind are crooked imperfections Anyways young folks go and follow their fathers follow their fathers father who was taught Some false syllogism of logic then went to cough up a verdict robbing Tom Robinson of innocence, God damn it Thank God for a father like Atticus And the eyes of a child To see through the thick whitewashed dark walls, I heard the folks long ago said "burn it up The condemned house is haunted” Boo, you've got a story too Though all you ever wanted was your parents’ Food of Approval It's ok to be unsung and forty, unglorious Matter of fact, victorious, Maybe saints, these days Have eyes sunken in, so sore from living in the basement Or maybe they don’t walk around Standing at the corners Blowing trumpets like the hypocrites in Maycomb, Alabama Bitter One I swallowed a bitter one and the knot in my throat cannot be undone so easily, no no, My friends they all seem to be so free then again I can't see what they see are we all trapped in a fog a complex of translucent walls and constant talk of uncertainty, moves and shakes, am I even awake? My angel, my protector won't you come collect these shades, take them away, you say "I can only kill it if you spit it out into the light of day, and he can't mend your broken soul if you don't trust Him to hold it in His palms..."
encountering mystery of a personal kind through impressions, dialogue, little ways, obscurity, and peculiar sorts of narratives
