for all your wasted time
TRANSCRIPT
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For All Your Wasted Time
You were my mountain,
My great river ford;
My solace and solitude
Reward;
In you I saw and was
All I would ever beToward and where else
Would I run?
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Its only when
You're here, dear.
That every flys wing
Doesnt beat ripples,
Echoing in the hall;
We're no good apart
At all. the walls shudder
Another night.
No under-cover lover.
None in sight.
Tin and empty, ringing,
Singing aloud. waiting to
Catch your rain.
She has to know I think of her
Hair like thick ribbons curling at the ends
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Toes in throes and knees like magnets
OppositeThe walls and I stare; them at each other
Me at them
Envious and twice as trapped
Lonely as only human,
Waiting for the phone
(Or the end of the world.)
I gaze stoic, unreasonable
Mountains of time to the sea
Spent drinking you in
And lending money now
To the opium den.
I missed you,
So badly
To pieces.
Threading the needle with my own blood
To sew my legs and arms
Like little charms
A labour of art,
Everything.
Every night. There,
The same picture when
Its time to turn in.
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It seeps into my bones
while I sleep. You watch,
And watch over me.Be there, or even here,
Not somewhere between.
Dreams act out the scene
Over and over.
Your eyes and mouth
Are sharp, they penetrateBetween snake scales;
I love their sting,
Their ring,
Everything.
O, to be in
your claws!
Little paws awaiting
The tail to impale
My heart through the center
I would die to become
Your fare,
I do not care.
We are both predator and prey,My Goddess.
Sly little Bitch in the ditch
Biting my heels as I walk by.
Led astray by blind men,
Only two
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Keep following them.
Betrayal like needles
Into arms and haystacks;Your veil, dear friend, is thin.
Your eyes two stormy seas;
Two lies.
I'd no more room to carry on
With you anymore then or to any longer
And suffer the unbearable itch;With no room in this anchored boat
Spinning circles in the sea
With hornets nest at half mast
Blind strings knotted
To be only half dark or light
Id remind you of past times
And myself of how ears never listening
Can be kept so safely
Retreating
To your prarie, Young Mare.
Don't try sleeping sound
Upon the beams in my eye
Lying another time
All these ghosts are you
Have been you
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Do you see?
There is no family but me
A mere seed; a generationOf dandelions and ghost adjutants
Same as my childhood
Home, attached.
Unable to connect
Only bending over
To turn
Your eyes
Their own beams, objects
All too foreign and sadly familiar
Thinking of Disney
And places I've been
Places I'll go to forget
I take what is not mine because
Everything you throw away
It doesn't just disappear
(2)Like a dream deferred
Or just a glimpse of reflection
In the eye of eternity.
Old man, you've fooled and been fooled
Long enough with these spouted visions
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While I come to senses finally
Alone in the middle
Of the road, whereWords fail now,
Haughty and cumbersome
Sawed-off shotguns;
Trigger happy and cocksure,
Alcohol and ammunition,
The endless injustice soTypically American.
They who say what they want
At the end of the day.
It is action
That makes traction
We communicate, barely
And in improper
Fraction.
Maybe you will leave. I might, too.
Untrusting, projecting my ugly mugTwisted into every other face.
Fear and trembling! My teeth chatter
A (c)old souls wind filtered through.
Gripping me in pins
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With needles pointed,
Daring a false move or
Anything but perforation.
They adore rapping your window pane
Evermore; Haughty, overbearing, pathetic
Cold stones falling flat and hard
To land in my hand and sling,
They are their own ammunition.
Every grotesque test of being
And a pike for every head.
Sad gladiator begs to know-
Enjoying the show.
I know of the ghost
The half cracked shadow
Gliding around;
Silent and sweet schism,
Absent host, orphaned echo.
Im buried already.
Everything caves in,
Dirt pushes upon my eyes,
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Softly closed or not.
A small tear is all
The fabric of time needs
To dance between; step back and forth,
Taunting mad and hellish; the drawn
And barely sunken skeleton kid,
Dances: death, death, death.
The acid soaked under tongue,Breathing gills of psilocybin,
Narcotically beguiled.
Everything moonlight;
Suicidal, for a while.
The tick is nervous.
Pumped charged hot white ore
Overheating nuclear core
Melting my insides to hide
The bloodied tick, constantly chewing
My bleeding lips,
I can not hide my biding time.
Coming apart, my dreams burst
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From tattered seams and threadbare shirts
Skin, muscle, bone and hurt;
Everyone sees without me,
The cracked lense, tarnished brass,
Mildewed glass, holy knees.
A capsule without release,
A bomb and a fiend
For explosions I see,All traps and tripwire
Landmine mire,
Crude oil sea;
Waiting to ignite.
Bramble bush.
Your green berry eyes
Circle blackened; unripe
Every: Hair a snare
Freckle a thorn
No tact taciturn
For a brush with your
Leaves, stabbing in between
Threads "clearly" unworthy
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And yet you hang under skin and nails
To the cross; unable to hide
Your glance, sidelong.
Showing at the hour of departure
To profess your (waning) interest.
The words retreat, empty and alone
Single file/marching into blackness,
Its center a single cut into the pi
I have no more room
For apology; the last drop clings
For dear life! the canteen rings
An empty tin and you've left
Me, walking in circles again;
Vanishing overnight
With the black widow, a mere fly in her web
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Of fine pries unrelenting; whispering secrets
And whereabouts unaware, the silken
Lined jail cells death knellIs more than your fair share.
Heart rate, the old bray
Sixty eight BPM, or,
1.1333333333333 and so on.
Four fifths of gin an hour;
Four fifths of a second
Per beat; five point six
A ghosts retreat.
There are moments where
Everything is up in the air.
A ghost, undead. Beat.
Alive only as the flow,
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The tiny rivers of blood.
And they, alive as what?
In my shoes and clothes and food
Home; they haunt me, ever close,
A ghostly head slips behind
The corner; Eyes burn
Holes in my back. Feet scurry
Out of sight, silent.
When, born and bred
With the days aftertaste
Of waste and rampant greed
For garnet and gold! We say;
Life, almost priceless in cheap conversation;
All but worthless in reality.
The needle finds its groove,
Softly sinking; Weaving,
Retrieving an ocean of old
Notes; wave upon warm wave
From old throats.
Mother rhythm of so many
Eventually orphaned; crying in cribs,
Little tape recorders still whirring.
Following grooves all the way back
To center; Returning to
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Click//
Una vez mas.
One more day, minute,
Second moment.
Wound and wound clicking,
A cheap plastic Chinese toy,
Spun off wildly
On the slick black streets,
The cars seep and film over
And boy, when it rains.
The grinding gnash and screams
Metal twists round; trees bend
To the ground. Mother Earth,
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The invisible blacksmith,
Tornadoes and hurricanes
Avalanches and mudslidesFlood, famine, feed, fix.
A loose dress, never
Covering the secret too well;
The folds falling gracefully about
Her delicate shoulders,
The sun obligedly rising,
To shine and to burn and to caress;
Her dry, cracked country callous
Skin. Deliquesce.
(2)
Tracing the cracks,
Our fingers and feet the map,
Drawn and torn,
Washed to and fro,
Tumbled and heated
The seam needing species
The same fabric, same
Pieces, each one a puzzle.
Somehow we manage without tipping;
The stars and brother/sister planets,
So easily misread, dead, or disregarded;
At the other end of a million strings
Tied to all your fingers, tied to your wings
Every one pulling a different direction.
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The abandoned trot line
Finds its home on me.It will be the dress, the screaming secret;
Ghostly mist parapet.
The eternal fiery eye
Peering from the closet.
Stranded on an
Island, the vastest of oceans.
The drug hug and its sweaty, sticky
Cloud; clinging to my bones.
A stench not easily stoned
Out.
Shaking hands and frantic eyes searching
Spinning round and round.
Wide sockets ever widening,
Spun and cut on pure amphetamine
Death, and so socially acceptable.Eyelids pried open, lips drawn
At the corners, shut.
You come for money.
Sheep at the table, outdoing yourself,
Always. Unseen, the squealer;
So eagerly you lick the bones clean
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With the cadence of flames underneath
Those at the stake and their disgusting gape
Of a resting place
For your brothers and the love
Spoken of others fervent tongue
Rung and rung, biting the hand
That taught you to eat meat.
The rest of the wolves unsurprised
At your retreat, retreat, retreat.Selling your families secrets,
To earn your keep to creep
(2)
Acquiring a taste for blood again;
Hastily hiding behind disputant lines,
More vile than them.
It reeks and leaks on your skin,
In your sweat. Creating an aching target
On your barely-there chest;
Crushed, suffocated and weighted by unrest.
Poor patron, one day.
They will gnaw your hocks and chopsOff the bone.
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Memories, the pillow clutched;
Its a phantom inadequate.
Longing - the empty tin to ring,
I'd sing to you, on the other end.
Hardened from so many low blows
That chose the low road.
Melted with a fell swoop
Deer-eyed glance
To even sit at the edge
Of those lovely pools,
Kind of like you do,
An oasis in the middle
Of Heaven Id long to swim in.
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Fallen angel, why?
My back aching of stumps and feathers;
White snowed canvas and blood paint.
My heavy head fell
My body followed, quaint.
Remembering to draw from
Underneath the skin - needle, hollow;
Our cave paintings taken to the grave.
Marching, every step.
Aiding the devil, did I
And died with my
Weary head held high.
True Child of Legion,
See the line within is thin.
Heaven is built upon
The backs of its unworthy;
We carry them upon
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Our mighty palanquin.
Hell is the sewer of Heaven.
I become trapped
A mere present for your to unwrap
The plan cram is just a map.
Little ones taught to hold it in;
Squirming in their chairs.
Little angels. Little devil debonairs.
They know the secret; It haunts me.
They only know the love
I know only now, after.
Too late is too soon
For regret.
One thing at a time.
Remember that line
Nail-biter, to the quick, every time.
You glance to the river
Below; and miss step
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Too. To pummel,
Pummels you.
Look to her eyes, stay connected.
These are the pools in which to swim.
She coaxes you to her, the other side.
Baby, taking your first steps again.
I will not spend another four yearsDreadfully here; this freezing loft,
Sweating bombs to awaken
Screaming, A hoarse howls all
To manage the distance.
O, night guardian.
Steaming from my ears,
Condensing on my glass hat.
Down my brow and into my eyes.
And you, grinning, you fat cat
Your mane is mine
She shines, she shines.
The eyes pierce. Already,
She knows she has won.
The lioness licks her decidedlyWet red lips. What fun.
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Morning and the first thought.
The edge of day beckons.A dream bursts
This time, a damn.
The river flows forth unstoppable, even,
By the sand or sunlight
Or any mans hand
I gasp and fail, grasp for your hairOr the hem of your dress;
I drowned in a dream.
Brought back to air and nowhere.
Already feeling it; that summer, again.
The seasons legally binding leap
Appearing like divorced parents.
Always one or the other.
Dawn and springtime, of a few loves.
They hand you off, a leaf to fall.
And fertilize; or a seed to become
(And not to fall far from) the tree.
Gathered to our loves,
Misses; the yearning and burn;
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The empty tin bundled together,
Again. Released like balloons
To the blue sky and a white hot star;Burning and reflecting in wet eyes
We watch them, afloat and hoping.
Sweat beads on my back
Like blood on a road rash
Soaking thin shirt; clinging film
Endless doors mock
A silent greek chorus opposite
And starring, an eyeing gauntlet
As you pass
Endless white forms and black ink
Stupid students leading halls
Nowhere
The plan is obvious
A black hole of mortals
And time, sucked into
A useless, toothless mouth;
Vacuous and unending
Draining the clock under
A suffocating and hot
Wool smock
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Sweet Sylvia, my savior;
An oasis untapped at the back
Of the green and white
Desert sidewalks.
Caricatures of Picasso,
Monet, Matisse, Escher.
The clones do their dance
Phones glued to ears sheer
And self-conscious
You must go here
And there and there
Here, take a quarter
Drop it off
Some mountain in Kansas
Find the ghost and give it some clothes
Watching, the left hand distracted
The ride of a lifetime.
Really?
Being a rat in the maze play
Isn't worth the cheese pay youll receive
For all your wasted time
Should you not be productive,
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Otherwise?
Wed been making a lot of plans but even more love.
Plans that fall through cracks in the wall
And out of sight. Between sighs and thighs
And out of bright blindingly high heatAnd living the high life.
Here again were one day closer and
I seethe and burn in my skin, staring at my
Reflection in your secret window, a television blank
No snow, no light.
Unrevealing.
You keep your secrets, and I will keep you
Safe, my darling. What is rest
If not with you? Id rather stay up
Many moons, its true.
But when she came a burned sage
In the house I thought about how
Id already told you I loved youAnd you knowing nothing
Of my immense darkness
And I none of yours
Our lips had already decided
For us.
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At the point where you realize
Everything you know about life
You learned from people who dont know
A thing about life
And her eyes turn away
With an infinite sadness
And a quick thousand yard stare
Leading right back to me
Before filling instantly with love
Once again as infinite
As the sadness misplaced
You are a lute,
knife hollowed.
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While you rise I am slipping to sleep
While you reluctantly shine thousands of miles
I pine and long, enduring the infinite
Pain of the the wax and wane
Ceasing only for a brief meeting at twilight
And dawn, where we are slipping and ripped
Away before we even meet.
The earth hangs between
A stinking, whining phantom
A mistaken conscious unknowingly placed by our parents
Into our most tenderous chambers
While we are rocked to sleep night after night
We meet at dawn and twilight
For one infinitesimal moment of utter serenity
Before the clamor, the stammering start
Ofearths hammers building, building, building
Paltry structures that could not hold us or anything without
Your bright, watchful eyes in the daytime sky
And my sad, half-cracked eyelids at the night
To let the world fall
For just a moment
Without the protests of inferior creatures
Having long since stopped looking toward or being grateful for
The life held in our clasped hands
Spinning infinitely through the ether,
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Breathing life and beauty through and unto all
(2)
For a hastily prepared count of deaths in the morningPlaced ever so carefully on our desks
Ungrateful children looking to blind parents
Taking credit for mere chance and knowing not
That nothing is possible unless we hold hands,
Continually longing for the day when
You will save all your bright rays for meThat we may shine equally and leave
That dreadful, willfully ignorant sphere
To fend for itself
To flail and gasp and drown in its own seas
Of intended antiquity and unwarranted entitlement
Still claiming none more ungrateful than us
Who continue to burn that precious glimmer
That is our all
That these vile places who continually deny
Our faces may be that much more beautiful
Longing for the day
When at once and long last we realize
God has given to us the boundless realm of space;
An eternity in which to live how we please
While we still waste our time turning the colors of leaves.
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Tell him his first born was delivered late
Stuck in the womb of a new mother
Who nervously waited by phoneWhile he was drunk in a bar after work
Waving his gun around
Tell him his youngest joined the army
Deceived to fight and die for a price
Worth one thousandth of his life
While he was out trying to makeThe millions that would never come
Tell him that his only daughter
Married a vile man who beat her
To beget a beautiful, unwanted child
While he boasted of his lot in brothels and bars
Tell him his two smartest
Disowned him and all his pride
To all but forget his utter existence
While he tried to impress
The illiterate laborers in the ditches
Tell him that his family grew into beauty
And came to fruition still, without himAnd his everlasting cry that
Everything wouldve been better
Had yall stuck by my side.
the gnaw and gnash subsides lightly
but the little paws still scratch the door
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and yap some more; the owners are
out on the town, galavanting
around the bushes they beat
with knowingly dull blades while
there is so much to be done
breakfast at one and the blood
all over the refrigerator door
and kitchen floor from
a white-tailed innocent
Caught in the middle of
A flooded river and the end
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Of the world we know
Helpless as anything,
FixatedOn stars placed carefully
In our eyes
Waiting for the wolves to come
We welcome them with open arms
Rejoicing, we bear their armament.
And much higher above
Held down by nothing but
The weight of our dead
Dreams.
They follow us around
They lay down
Inside our bodies while we sleep.
We have become the bidding limbs
Idle work in the devils hands
Orphaned dreams
In wolven finery.
Taking like children.
Like my parents in the kitchen
On and on,
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Falling apart.
All teeth and nails
Bitten off.
They will be proud.
Still following steps, some how.
They looked too much
Like my own.
And on record, for the first time,Here we are - sign your name on the line
Please, well do this civilly.
Making the same mistakes
Molesting the give and take
Just like his father before him
My heart broke with the first dish
Thrown there, in the kitchen
Please leave -
Take your bad memories.
The birds make leave
On my fairly weathered branches
Gray eyes and gray sky
Falling fast from the trees
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To the ground, to the grave
To my feet
All I want is a years worth
Of sleep.
I could live in my dreams
And never awaken from the pub
At that sultry, twinkling hour
And every face is a smile.The heads all run down
Tall glasses and steins
To rest on the bar.
Sadly awakened before
The first heady pour
To the life chosen for me
But not by.
How many more times
Our hopes dashed against rocks
Like a million shifty canoes
Riding a million unforgiving waves
Never paying dues late.
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How many more times
Innocent babes snuffed like candlesBefore the light dries their eyes
So many born to be eaten
And nothing more
Rising with a first and last breath
As soon as we feel we go numb
As soon as we think we go dumbOur hands are cut off, caught
Stealing for the first time
Only from slave masters.
The idiots blither on and on
With nonsense and hearsay
As the geniuses walk around,
Crippled
With a self-doubt purer than water.
We look to God and every time
He stands next to His brother
And claims him the evil of all evils
Feasting on our dead relatives
Picking their fangs(2)
With the tired shins of our dead
Fathers and mothers,
All behind closed doors.
You only love someone
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As much as they can bring you down.