1. |
Providence
08:46
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Could you call a feeling with a word?
Could you call upon the sky,
Without it falling,
To come to you?
If I had a camera that could capture the coming
I'd playback your leaving before you left
Fall in love with the inevitable end
And live at ease under a dying sky turned inside out
You and me posing as a heaven performed
Two angels' carved song, two skylarks stoic
For the clouds below yearning for a photo;
To record, film - write it in their water
Could you call a feeling with a word?
Could you call upon the sky,
Without it falling,
To come to you?
-
And I am reminded of you
When I take a sip of coffee
Every industrial cigarette
The sound of construction
When I see shoes with large heels
Dark hair that falls past shoulders
Trips to any waters where I can swim
When I sit in the metro and look at the seat next to me
Sight of stones scattered on the ground
Sweaters worn loosely
When someone smiles kindly toward me
Every song I find beautiful or disarming -
The sound of a charming voice over a crowd
When I sit down to work,
When I relax or work-out
And when I take a shower,
Go for a walk in a park or cemetery
Or simply to buy some bagels or croissants
When I travel by bus, or
Look at airplanes in the sky
See lavender or sage, especially a rosebush
Every pine or willow, and any tree with leaves or without
When someone asks me for directions and I don't know the answer,
But wish I could help in ways I'm still hoping to learn
And when I'm not reminded of you I think of you
Before I go to sleep, as I sleep, and when I wake up
When I put on a movie to try and slow my thoughts,
As I lie in bed holding my pillow
When I speak out loud to myself to say goodnight
And at day in my head when I speak to encourage myself
To carry on,
Simply one reason among millions
To live another day for someone other than myself
As I am emptying out to make space for a world seemingly full
When I am hungry and in need of sunlight under an overcast day
When I am searching to put something back into myself
But during morning meditation you disappear
And reappear after the alarm,
Calling me in a silence in a place I don't understand,
My dreams have become a desire for comfort
With you wherever,
Although every second is a challenge
As we live on separately
Working to let love fall on everything coming -
Not just in memories,
And when I think of the times I could feel everything growing:
As when you were by my side, trusting the moment we were in
Looking into my eyes or looking away
To a place I haven't been, and I am still looking for
With a faith I keep doubting without you presently here
Giving clues and hints in everything you do
I miss you and I love you,
But you have taken the tune of another song-
So I'm throwing it to the sky, letting it for the birds
In another life I was a skylark, and I sang that different song
From where I stand the tape reel spins forward and backward
Of my full length recording of a relationship
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2. |
Honeybee
04:04
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Validate my tears, reject me with passion
Let the world see how I see me
Dust off a dandelion, honeybee retired
Pollen fallen before flower even blooms
Summer in the garden, I loved you most
When you let the weeds grow and stared at the city
Validate my tears, reject me with passion
Let the world see how I see desire
Dust off a dandelion, honeybee retired
Pollen fallen before flower even blooms
Summer in the garden, I loved you most
When you let the weeds grow and stared at the city
(conversation)
Dust off a dandelion, honeybee retired
Pollen fallen before flower even blooms
Summer in the garden, I loved you most
When you let the weeds grow and stared at the city
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3. |
Ghosting
03:54
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When you become a ghost, who’ll be the killer
How to explain where you have gone?
And if I try to follow to understand
Every door opens to nowhere.
I can’t point at a ghost, but I can point at a killer
You will leave and you will return
From another timeline as someone else
I’ll recognize you before you go
A trail of branches from the nest we ate,
Ghosting ever-after
I can’t point at a ghost, but I can point at a killer
There’s a crow in the chest, there’s a crow in the chest
There’s a crow in the chest, there’s a crow in the chest
There’s a crow in the chest, there’s a crow in the chest,
But from whose chest will the crow reveal itself?
I can’t point at a ghost, but I can point at a killer
I can’t embrace a ghost, but I can embrace a killer
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4. |
Japa
03:56
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Standing in your room while you’re gone living in Asia
My shoes worn softly, a rush of blood to my head
A photo falls from the fridge, water spills from my cup
It’s a photo of you and you’re washing away
I shower in the dark, I taste your name on my lips
Sandalwood, saffron, and camphor
I dream of your mother, was it a kiss,
Or a kiss goodnight?
I can’t remember
Standing in your room while you’re gone living in Asia
There’s something in the air like when the sun rose over our skin
A photo falls from the fridge, water spills from my cup
It’s a photo of a stranger standing in the desert
I shower in the dark, I taste your name on my lips
Sandalwood, saffron, and camphor
I dream of your mother, was it a kiss
Or a kiss goodnight?
I can’t remember
Japa, japa, japa, japa, japa
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5. |
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If I could say it all in a phrase, these waves upon waves, the teleprompter of haze
Aphorisms passing and pilling, pages of plans, and still only grazing on cults
Good, good God
Come in
If I could say it all in a phrase, the ambition, defeat, repeat, pigeon of caution
Parables passing and piling, pages of songs, full-length recording of a relationship
Good, good God
Come in
Burning polaroids in my heart still hum with hope
Good, good God
Come in
Carry the torch
Carry me close
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6. |
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Sad choice of words, still a sad story
Even if on the surface now:
It’s laughter and innocence; exuberance for day
Fields of playthings, tulips and periwinkles
Take me away to the cypher of space, and
Our ideas of non-locality.
And after the affair, but still in your bed naked
Those sheets rolling, then crumpled around you
By my own negligence of “how to correctly fold bedding”
How did I error,
Heir of “I didn’t hear her”
Hearer of sad soliloquies swimming
In the pool of a drowned Mona Lisa
There was nothing but my intake
I made a mistake, poor lungs forgive me
She’s crying in tributes and art films
A leap around the clock that your father made
I didn’t listen, there were other heads rolling
Not only our edible hearts
I didn’t consider clouds leak,
Cut sky and dry
Time puts everything out of perspective
A snail’s victory on the reeds of bamboo
The gentlemen drunk on the water of winter’s past
To hold them when we severed the seasons
I was rolling with his head and hands
While I took for myself and you saw
From the second floor
I’m not playing tragic; I was playing tragic
And now no matter what I do
I hurt you,
It’s tragic.
Sainte Thérèse de Lisieux,
The little flower of the second-floor hotel
I hurt you, it’s tragic
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7. |
Querbes
03:10
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The desire to hold you,
Feel your skin bristle, walk beside you.
To listen to your voice greeting me, anyone,
In the kitchen doorway, over the phone,
In conversation holding your keys,
Giving directions, in conversations about
Schedules, family, or troubles;
Crying, laughing, reading out loud to yourself,
Reading to me your favourite story,
Singing, humming, your voice shaking,
Trembling, stern, urgent with intent,
Expressing yourself.
To watch you work, contemplate, mistake, learn,
And to walk about agitated trying to figure it all out.
Smile, to smile at me, to laugh again,
To travel with you, argue where to sleep,
And then to sleep wherever with you.
To smell your hair, the way your body curves on the mattress which you lie,
And at the corners of where you roll toward me.
To see where your eyes look and already feel you aglow
From peeking at me, near, watching over you.
To play word games, board games, cards, and to cheat,
Or get bored, or just throw in the deck and fetch fast-food.
To eat together, make you dinner, some pasta with shrimp,
Or maybe mushrooms, or your favourite
Dumplings fried with zucchini.
To give you a kiss before you go back to work,
And tell you I love you, and to hear the sound of your shoes
Shuffling quickly on the steps, and to trust
Whether you’re coming or going, leaving, returning,
Or never coming back,
That those steps were filled with the love I meant to express,
And have led you to a dream where you dance like we do
When we play with possibility and we were dreaming together,
As we dream together.
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8. |
Are You A Dreamer?
04:42
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How many ways to secretly express a love that falls asleep with me
and dreams two night terrors -
One, where we fall into each other
Crying over the shed skin of our own hearts
And two, where we both lie alone separated by the skin we have grown.
Are you a dreamer, or just lost in a dream?
Counting sheep caught in clouds made of their own wool
How many ways to secretly express a love that doesn't exist
and dreams to be awakened again -
Tangled in your dream-catcher; the strings of your heart
Held captive in the silence before you awake,
expressed in the clutter before dreams set in.
Are you a dreamer, or just lost in a dream?
Counting sheep caught in clouds made of their own wool
How many ways I have touched you, right or wrong
There is a fairy in the heavens where envy still lives -
Fairy dust turns to glass becoming the beads of still dreams.
Are you a dreamer, or just lost in a dream?
Counting sheep caught in clouds made of their own wool
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9. |
Paper Skylark
04:05
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Rusted golden sunlight through the open window
Coffee in a green mug on the pine board ledge
The lo-fi playback of someone else’s song
I feel far away from home,
Though I’m here to make peace with home
Now golden sunlight polished through the closed window
The coffee is cold, and the memories are old
But I feel closer to home listening to a song
From another era
Holding all that drifts loosely, and the moths swept away
At the end of the day, I will love you anyway
If it’s only the beginning of a dream in which we never wake,
I will love you anyway
She said I’m translating all the life
I said, “I love you, you could know”
She said I’m translating all the life
I said, “I love you, it was written long ago”
But this story can be told another way
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NO EXIST
No Exist is an ever-changing, evolving, devolving, non-hierarchical hierarchy. A collective without borders within a timeline of markers, signifiers, and limiters; currently run and managed solely and entirely DIY out of the Canadian countryside
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