1. |
Bays
03:36
|
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As I rise, I can make them obey
Then I thought, I could see Deadman's Bay
Now I know it's just Freshwater
Just another germ wandering serrations
I'm not a conqueror of shores
I'm just a surveyor of bays
|
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2. |
Alders
02:53
|
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Chore-worn hands work this branch
into a new, crude instrument.
As the branch dries, the whistle will not sound;
a summer when I learned decay's okay.
Chore-worn hands tremble as they clutch
a pine-wood cane--stoic and coniferous.
And as I make my way back to town,
thoughts stay buried where alders grow.
My friend entropy, always there for me.
What knows it's naught, it begins to rot.
Strive to be like you--stoic and coniferous.
|
||||
3. |
War
03:51
|
|||
What derelict, and handsome guns you've all turned out to be
I love life as I love you: I know it doesn't need need me
What derelict, and lowly sons you've all grown up to be
I hate life as I hate you: I don't know that you don't need me
Longing to be
ecstatically placated, mercifully empty
|
||||
4. |
Sun
04:18
|
|||
A long, long time ago (not so long for me)
Winter in Labrador:
Today is Polly's turn
to go fetch lamp oil
from Solomon Pike
Not enough hours in the day?
Long, long ago, days were shorter still
Turn now and go back
the way you came
Do you not see
the length of the spruces' shadows?
|
||||
5. |
Labyrinths
03:12
|
|||
I'm sure I passed this fork before,
and daylight's fading fast
Amazed by this maze, (or mazes?)
The best are never one
Situation or disposition?
Your being lost is superstition
Find your way in your own time
|
||||
6. |
Starling
02:39
|
|||
October sun on the alders where they perch
Darling starling takes flight despite the breeze
Dispenses with the self with utmost ease
Darling starling takes flight despite the breeze
disappears behind the hill where I can't see
It reappears (or does it?): a brand new starling to me.
|
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7. |
Cavern
05:12
|
|||
Anechoic abyss
What sounds just like this?
Panechoic bliss
I resist to dismiss
Unempathetic chamber
Imagined commisery [sic]
Camouflage of echoes
Just to lose the real me
Gulls are patient
Flies are patient
Ocean is is most patient of all things
|
||||
8. |
Cliffs
05:16
|
|||
Their patience is indifference
Cliffs are just walls after all
Go tell that to the hills
Stern silence presides
relieved only by
violence done to shallow recollection--
the anguish that he couldn't fall
nearly fast enough
(a certain shade of meaning:
not to fall, but to sink)
Fall
|
||||
9. |
Fog
03:58
|
|||
No cause for alarm
It doesn't mean you harm
It never fail to charm with
obfuscation of features
It plays, it hesitates
to erase, to dissolve
Then with a firm resolve
it devours the horizon
|
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