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Thursday, April 1, 2010

Lyrics for Lying Under Moribund Waves





Bay of Withered Gardens

It's a shame that we have to wait
for the shore to recede and the moon to take us to
the cocoon in the middle of the tide's break.

The chrysalis is crystal clear and we can see so very deep,
we peep at the towns of old weeds
that creak as they brace the currents from the bay. 

Pixelated Ocean Currents

Into the waves my face is laced with
seagull egg shells and dead crab pastels

I sink under the snowy, creamy sun
and drift beneath the salty avalanche's run

Pixelated ocean currents carry me gently away.

Chasing Ghost Trees

The trees in the woods of ash and light,
the needled earth, the sparrow's blight

The nest-less points of skyline fur,
sway and move, the birds disperse 

And chase the ghost trees over the hill,
the moving forest is never still,
their misty forms elude the birds,
and cold fog engulfs the leafy herds

Cloudblood

On the plain of grey hay,
the girl plays in the cloud's shade

As the day fades, her mother calls,
but the girl hides among the colorless stalks

And makes a home, a grassy dome
Lined with harvest mouse bone

Where she sits, quietly amidst,
the drone of distant ghost ships.

A Delicately Woven Hull

Spiders weave a home in the stale wood,
webs cover the hull of this cracked boat,
that should've rightly sunk long ago,
but is kept afloat on this dark lake,
by a delicately spun deck, lapped gently by ink ripples

Spider's spittle ensures this tired wreck will sail.

Among Tomato Trees

Underneath the tomato tree
is where you sat and waited for me

We lay together and watched the clouds,
rise at noon
over the sea.

Sunken Meadows 

Those who dwell beneath the field,
under stone and grass their bones are sealed

Until the monsoons soften the clay,
they swim through the soil 
to the woods where I lay.




1 comment:

  1. It sounds like they were written by the ghost of Nick Drake preserved in the mainframe of a millenia-old computer sputtering out on ticker-tape and preserved in bound volumes

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