1. |
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I recall I’d heard of something once before
That remained indelibly etched within my core
As stock and store
Awaiting access
Safe, secure
As largesse for..
Now no prize concludes my search for surety.
Nor can I recall the meaning it held for me.
Like a comedy
Dark, and now I
Finally see.
Oh well, tant pis!
Revolve your head and look at me.
Report exactly what you see.
Now let’s look beyond the lethargy.
Or stay stuck within this tragedy.
Life’s becoming dreamlike,
Flat and crushed and meme-like.
So it starts to seem like
A cross between ten pence a dance
And no chance.
Somehow, I still sense a region that’s heaven kissed
Search familiar features for what I may have missed.
Working through the list
To ends that may
Not exist.
So, slap my wrist.
Stuck in this ennui.
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2. |
My Invention
04:16
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Black silhouette of curious intent
The wages of sin spent
Long ago.
That brief vignette our friend Borodin sent
Makes my endorphin vent
Apropos.
What will become of hazy conception
Beyond my perception
Once again?
See how the sum of lazy exception
Impacts on reception
Even then.
I hope to peak still
I’m wading through treacle
Yet I won’t dare speak ill
At all.
There is a room inside itself
Somewhere near
Hear clear sincere
Call.
The focus shifts as I’m
left grasping for time
To save for
Bold, new flavour
Then we’ll crave more
Of my invention
Searching the grounds, supplies still are meagre,
The pangs of fatigue are
Loud and strong.
Yet I remain surprisingly eager
To neither renege nor
Move along.
Lost in the trees with no real direction,
A fallow complexion
Radiates.
So simple to affect circumspection,
The perfect deflection
Machinates.
Fate lends a leaf from
A book of belief some
Time before this grief comes
To call.
There sits somewhere within my reach
A gold pen
But then again
Stall.
Wending past this derelict domain,
Certain something can be found to fold myself into.
More likely there will be just one more ugly stain
That lay upon sketches made before I bestrew.
Last but still least remains the position
The academician
loudly takes.
Locating stars to fashion a wish on,
The lowly position
From mistakes.
What is it that I’m actually chasing?
Remarks self-effacing
Flood the room.
One more attempt at prudent retracing
The pace, colour, spacing
And volume.
I try to speak, still
I’m wading through treacle
But I know this tweak will
Still fall.
Where is the room inside itself?
It is feared
Cleared, disappeared.
Waul!
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3. |
No One's There (At All)
03:08
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Lying in my bed
Procrustean,
Words that fill my head
All fustian
Lack of attention
Isn’t quite as bad as it seems.
Up until I’ve a will
To keep a record of half- waking dreams.
It’s unpleasant when
Time’s reversing.
Here I stand again,
More rehearsing.
It can be a challenge to prove
I’m still around
When I can’t move.
Can it be I’m trying to hide
Some part of me
Somewhere inside?
Through morass I hear the call,
“Can you hear me?
Are you near me?
No one’s there at all.”
I sense something can’t accept that I’ll
Be forever blind
To what’s been left behind.
Sunup so I try to locate
A me that I need
To validate.
When did every piece of my heart
Get somehow blown
So far apart?
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4. |
Watching You Make Love
02:32
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We decide that our destin-
ation’s on the road of destiny.
There I see that I am blessed in
Wondrous ways, leading to ecstasy.
You then come to me dressed in
Ways that let me know for certain you
Always sense what you look best in,
Which array offers the perfect view.
Taking it in from my vantage up above
Takes me to places I only dared dream of.
Awed and aflame as I’m watching you make love.
Nightdress, corset, basque, or camisole
You show the sights, sounds, sensations I’ll savour.
But I’m close to losing all control
When your unbounded eyes locate mine.
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5. |
Fashioned Footsteps
04:11
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I walk alone kicking leftovers from the sands
Of Southerndown Beach
I kick so hard sometimes I forget that
I’ve been taught to teach
And when I turn and see
The fashioned footsteps in the sand
I know implicitly
That they are mine and
That no one else would follow me this far.
I’m filling in seeking out the tortured stains
That no one can reach
I feel the burn from the weight of all of the buckets
Of Noble bleach.
Let’s go to the river and lay hands upon me.
I don’t know if I will ever go.
Never see me. Now you can see me. Now
You never see me. Now you see
You never see me.
I listen to the scented songs of the mermaids
Singing, each one to each.
An open taunt, this scold tells me
To practice just what I preach.
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6. |
Here We Go Again
03:32
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Once more we’re on the border
Moving toward the sorry sordor
Drowning in the rank disorder
We’ve grown used to.
With such pre-planned misstating
What’s worth contemplating
When it’s our yen to again
Imbibe the brew.
When solutions seem
Lightyears out of reach -
Once more unto the breech.
Heartfelt desire
Does not seem
Fit to surcease
This quick decent
And so here we go again
Diving headfirst
Into the mire
From which we
Just gained release.
This discontent
Seems avoidably lament-
Able then.
It is obvious to me
We’ve been in this room before
Each time we felt such
A hot and acrid breeze.
And while anyone can see
Golden light behind the door
To sanctuary,
Someone hid the keys.
Once more we’re on the border
Moving toward the sorry sordor
Drowning in the rank disorder
We’ve grown used to.
Shall we explain our leaving
Calling out deceiving
Though we still know most swallow
The ugly brew.
Situations deem
Nothing can be done
So now the works begun.
This discontent
Is remarkably intent
On impeding progress to
My ascent.
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7. |
Lost Girl
01:08
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There’s a lost girl spinning wildly
In a world where her bruises accrue.
Is there someone who can find her?
For if you hold out your hand
She may find you, too.
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8. |
Intermezzo
03:36
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None
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9. |
Billy Boy
04:03
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Sometimes I
Struggle to clarify
Whether my recall
Is all
That it seems
But then
I’m confused by so many
Visions and sounds
Filling my dreams.
There’s a chance that
The sore contraction,
The stormy bygone,
Makes you fashion
A course of action
That guarantees your avoiding hoi polloi.
Won’t you, Billy Boy?
Past the wood
Into the neighbourhood
There we are walking,
Talking
You to me
When did
Our dear wood become fenny?
Was there a design
I did not see?
There’s a chance that
The plot untangles
Again, and thus you
Set your motion
At stark right angles
With no thought for the connections you destroy,
Don’t you, Billy Boy.
At the start of the June time
Our commune time
Seemed unbounded.
Show me the way to the door,
Leave all my stuff on the floor.
Now pretend there was nothing before
(If that works for you)
Isn’t it tough to ignore
That you can’t push all the lore
Under that charpoy,
Can you, Billy Boy?
Were we blind to
The acts that foment
Alarm and pain,
Or will we now dare
To take a moment
To understand the behaviours we employ.
Will we, Billy Boy?
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10. |
Tunnel's End
03:17
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One part’s handing
Misunderstanding
To all, so stranding
The need for standing
apart.
All alone sounding
From the landing,
1,000 volts expanding
Deep within.
Time is trying.
This self-denying
Ends up belying
A satisfying display
Of a life left after
All the lying
Has settled into dying
Sans coffin.
It appears I’ve a bracing,
Bitter goblet of slime.
Drink that’s made for erasing
Full decades at a time.
Can it be
So If there’s a light at tunnel’s end
I would somehow need to first divine
Where I am standing now,
Which way facing
In or out,
Up or down.
Can I gain accession
With possession
Of an irrepressible,
Constant, grinding tension.
Need I mention
It at all?
This infliction
Of dereliction
As an addiction
Shows my depiction of all
That is still here after
Such restriction
Is recognised as fiction
By us all.
After so much projecting
Wove this warren of dread
I still can’t help expecting
I’ll find somewhere a thread
To freedom
Turn about
Espy!
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11. |
Song For My Father
01:25
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Is my back against the wall
Or has someone rearranged the room?
Has the clock begun to stall,
Or will the normal space and time resume?
Was it love that
Redesigned the
Lines between us,
Times we had?
Once I sensed you
Just behind me
Now I’m small and sad.
And I miss you, Dad.
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12. |
See You Again
04:00
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At the turn of moon there comes an odd feeling,
A deep and steady hum that I cannot ignore,
Such that it becomes too much for me to conceal
That it doesn’t feel like Summer anymore.
Gazing through the haze to life everlasting
Can leave me mesmerised by evanescent glow,
Until I concede a moment once unsurpassed
Has grown pale beside the present feel and flow.
How many times did I write this story down?
How many versions of this still unsent letter?
How often was I turning the first pronoun
Upside-down
And back again?
Now where are the tomes
I hoped to one day recite to you?
All long ago lost
To leave this lone desire:
To tell you just how lovely
It is to see you again.
Light from long-lost night
Is never quite
So simply gathered.
Still the sight
Of this reuniting
Is inviting me
To always hold you dear.
Most have felt the sting of love out of season
That leads us to a land forsaken and forlorn.
But for you and me this tortured time was the key
That left us beautifully and blissfully reborn.
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13. |
(No More) Happy Ending
03:13
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Everything starts to unravel
Puffs of smoke, the edifice descending.
You never told me that you hated the Havel
loathed all the travel,
So, instead you slam down the gavel
Suddenly there’s no more happy ending.
You deflect, opting to gainsay
I’m unsure if you were just pretending.
Didn’t you know what I believed was a mainstay
Now is a pain day.
This is the main way
To the hollow.
I’m trapped halfway,
Stranded in impassive.
Stripped of movement,
Impotent and passive.
Taking subsistence vicariously.
Dear me!
I count the days I am wasting
So much time yet the final count is pending.
I can’t rebound when it was there for the tasting,
Pierced by your ‘nay’ sting,
I crawl off to tend to the pasting,
More convinced there’s no more happy ending.
Sometimes I can see beyond
Those icy walls encircling me.
Suddenly I can respond
With vital parts suspend……
Can it be all is forsaken,
Or is there something I’m not comprehending?
Why is it that I feel so horribly shaken?
Was I mistaken
When I sensed what you’d love to partake in
Now it seems there’s no more happy ending.
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14. |
Waves Set In Motion
03:08
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Thinking back to when it first began
Not so very long ago.
It seemed I had access to enormous bandwidth
Had so many dice to throw.
Almost comical the arrogance
Of uncomprehending zeal.
The view that I’d settle in between poles dancing
Formed the large part of the deal.
An argument can be made in retrospect
I should have noticed the sign.
But the call still was mine.
Certainty of outcome can be such a
Potent potion.
(Doesn’t everybody know)
No end’s assured once waves are
Set in motion
If there’s something that I should be learning
I can’t catch it when the world keeps turning.
When the prize is out of reach
What can anybody teach?
I get reproached for actions incorrect
I understood to be fine.
Then again, let’s not whine.
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The Blood Rush Hour Swansea, UK
The Blood Rush Hour are Robert DeStefano and whomever he can trick, coerce, cajole, or bribe into adding their prodigious talents to the projects. This includes Willie Dowling, Tim Hamill, Christian Phillips, Darby Todd, Scott Evans, Joe Tobias, Todd Shuster, and Nia DeStefano. They serve smart, ornate, eclectopop in their inimitable way. Get ready for a journey of music and word. ... more
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