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A meekness sore with teething – heirloom of violence.
Once amiable arms, reaching – hands of stone.
Ache, the condition worsens – indigenous howl.
Phallic, erect, towering – instilled dominance.
Buried in the skins of war
Bred in endless aggregations
A meekness sore with teething – heirloom of violence.
Once amiable arms, reaching – hands of stone.
Ache, the condition worsens – indigenous howl.
Phallic, erect, towering – instilled dominance.
Buried in the skins of war
Bred in endless aggregations
Leave no body free of fire!
Let no rapist escape this pyre!
Deliver us from our husk.
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And while the cities and kingdoms stretched for miles,
Vacancy reached its tendrils through ever-branching paths.
Emptiness pervaded the air with each suppressed connection,
Cancer gestated in the warmth of their fragile lust.
And it was not peace, but gloom that crept into their bed –
Exposing a naked ugliness, and nodded its leering head.
A warring triad – of absence, longing, and isolation.
Left only to love the things that leave us, mislaid creations.
Absence, longing, isolation
Absence, longing, isolation
Absence, longing, isolation
Absence, longing, isolation
And if we choose to smother urge, at least give it a grave.
A bed of roses for carnal guilt, cradling illegible names.
Love is not unclean, bestial or discrete.
Shaming our starved bodies, dying incomplete.
Dying unresolved, dying alone.
Coalescing from indifference, escaping us all with great abandon.
We would be drawn to a center, were it not for its piercing silence.
Forward, altogether – they forgot.
And one day, tired eyes eclipsed,
Closer than anyone perceived,
And falling into meager arms.
So let us become each other’s fever – rising, burning.
So let us become each other’s fever – fading, mending.
So let us become each other’s fever – rising, burning.
So let us become each other’s fever – fading, mending.
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Shriek with a breath of God, but I am only a man –
The sin is null when the word is grey, isolation again.
Said the cardinal to the apostate: “I’m inclined to agree,”
“Our adversary is sheathed in totality, not in creed.”
He was shaken by devotion, and kin before faith –
Like warm blood to dead, unfeeling fingers.
He was shaken by devotion, and kin before faith –
Execration without purpose, a ghost that lingers.
In secession – I am the wayward Gabriel, instead whispering the voice of man.
But I lament the failures of such a tragic ape,
Who gave man, woman, and gods their ugly shape.
Never to love again, prisoners of an eternal divorce –
Dichotomies of the divine, governed in ethereal sores.
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4. |
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For every bending knee, echoing: “Work will set you free.”
Living beneath anchored thumbs of suited gods.
Crushed in their clasping palm – squeezing, wringing, unrelenting
Behold the stretches of earth that ape has wrought!
Reveries of upheaval, fleeing from pain
Obscurities of custom, singing monoculture’s name
An icon of filth, casting shade where pedestals intrude –
Wholeness flowering in a sky beyond our grasp
For every bending knee, echoing: “Work will set you free.”
Living beneath anchored thumbs of suited gods,
Crushed in their clasping palm – squeezing, wringing, unrelenting
Behold the stretches of earth that ape has wrought!
No wound too deep, no life too short
No bridge too far – dissolve, dissolve, dissolve
Becoming the wild bloom – like roots twisting through concrete
Succession of masters, bent into lateral humility
An endless weave, the retiring of millennial walls
That if we lose love, the very same can one day be regained.
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“Blood and honor, raise the spear!”
“Pride and lineage, the grace of fear!”
Building vain temples, skeletal vestiges
Holocaust’s gingered breath, comets of human ash
A forced march – to segregate, exterminate
Pregnant with seeds of envy – separate, spoliate
“Blood and honor, raise the spear!”
“Pride and lineage, the grace of fear!”
A tongue of lies flatters an unruly prince
Mercy only for himself and his likeness
Miscegenation opposition – purify, sanctify
Veiled in Totenkopf – devour, euphemize
Fathers, give us this day in weakness
Lest we drown in a sea of your dead banners
Hang ravaged from the spire of Heaven itself
And let these hands be the ones that tie the noose
Cripple to survive
Resist our design
The end of dynasties
The end of illusion
Choices weighed in blood,
But we are enwreathed –
Enwreathed in all life
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6. |
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Her cursed hollow, like loneliness split from sea and sky.
She felt a chill in the void - Darwin wept, an ancestral burden.
A woman, a tongue for refusal, like seething fire from bound lips.
Of fair soil, the same as he, with constellations drawn on her palms too.
And she evades Adam, with both grace and whorish revolt –
Rid or adore these chains of womb, parallel lover to a fault.
Empress, warqueen – to lead all under a celestial banner:
“Show me the love that you give your brothers.”
Restless peasant, why does she whisper like a lift of psalm?
A girl fashioned in the skin of man, as if in androgynous calm.
Bound to a column of ascension - rising smoke as a plume of passage.
Her last days…
Split the kneeling Earth with her many names,
Remember that we were conceived from unlikely mates.
She will lift us like redwood toward the fleeting sun,
Mother of the handless path - birth kingdom come.
Her last days with hair aflame, like the scorched mane of a bursting star.
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released May 6, 2014
Some rights reserved. Please refer to individual track pages for license info.