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Lyrics / Lonely Bird.
“eagles have trouble exercising their wingspan in empty parking garages
like barn swallows pinpointing their frustration in the open country air.”
stated in strength on his way back
from an impeded procession,
ready to sacrifice impatience.
the telescope was not meant to be a trademark for microscopic people
capturing imperfect interactions with a fleeting precision.
his happiness
was an avalanche in view of strangers vulnerable to dust
because humans in the sky has only recently been recorded
two ordinary drifters went solid before their helmets lifted off the yard sale blanket.
every short cut seems to have an extra set of billboards
where martyred leaves take over an on-ramp
reinforced by broken laundry baskets that overlook
all the imaginary thought patterns of an overpass,
which, around 6pm, are usually just a clashing of radio waves.
between each support beam is a single running frame of a 24/7 time lapse.
if your only means for survival
was to perfect and detail
a single red motor fishing boat
hanging 60 meters above an urban set muddy river
you might dream of standing on a bike tightrope tied between two elms
wondering if you should be sprinting your spirit
or if the meter is up
- one day, in 1964, a florist had her first stormy thought and blew it out the window -
system says:
every billboard channel stationed on a rural road
must be dusted for poems that have found an alternate route to the page.
you don’t put on a shirt to stop your parents from arguing.
many monuments have copied the light reflected from water
as if molecules were visible and dancing on the bank.
once per lifetime:
every manicurist will attempt to hold a dragonfly
in his or her hands still deciphering a gloomy dignity
from the glowing red pigment of the radiating palm.
uncertain saints on disillusioned ventures believe
autumn crickets will take a brief moment of silence
while the illuminated helmet assesses its self worth.
rolling our unwarranted leashing limit around contentment
and the common anti-climax of excitement into a single household appliance
that will translate any unconquerable splendor to movement
while turning our most mem rable desires into spring run-off inversion streams.
the single-filing of any multi-step sequence scatters
when a humming mind adopts its own fragility.
the pure cut functions become transformative
when we use the language of diffusion.
without question, without one exhausted fuse
the personal and commonly infinite physiology of anyone
is not shameful but mythic as it runs parallel
to an unnoted and certainly elaborate surrounding.
humans will explode from aqueducts
and land in puddles of thought flux
pulsing passivity in close relationships
retreating from hesitation and filtering insatiable moments
until the pulp of a gut feeling is all that’s left
of a free life in the universe.
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inxthexpinesx reviewed Version 1 -
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ive gotta be honest with you, i oculdnt carry a tune with this piece, but that wasnt important to me at all. I feel like you are a talented writer who uses very deliberate phrases and has learned to harness this talent. I was so ecited when i read this piece because i thought that your word use worked so well, all your words had a great phonetic blend to them which i think is very important with lyrical work.
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music1358 reviewed Version 1 -
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I have seen computer programs that do this. String together sentences that sound great but don’t have any real meaning. All the lines are wonderful as far as sound and light but they don’t create any heat for me. I do not understand a word of it.
E.g.
“two ordinary drifters went solid before their helmets lifted off the yard sale blanket.”
“I could debate semiotics with you but earthquakes woke me early.”
(This second one is not in the poem but could be.) Are you using the Burroughs cut up technique? The aim is to reveal to the creator new ways to express what they feel. This doesn’t seem to say anything.
destined2bgreat reviewed Version 1 -
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I love the prelude, it is deep and intriguing, creating an anxiousness to know what is about to unfold. If these were intended for lyrics then I am hoping the recycled piece is less complicated and includes a hook.
Every piece of this is deep and mysterious taking the reader on a ride through a very dark tunnel. Yet, it seems that some parts go to another story, therefore some work on making all parts of this more cohesive will fill in any moments of confusion. Then again, maybe that was done in the other piece. I’d like to read the recycled version if possible.
atlasdrugged reviewed Version 1 -
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this is fantastic. you have a superb poetic voice, and the language and imagery is intelligent as well as gorgeous. this may seem lame, but I can’t find a thing I dislike about this piece. oh wait, 1 thing. I dislike that I will not be able to hear it being played.
amazing.
-Lauren
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