(2013)
Drag me down to the river, to wash these stains away. On it’s banks I cry, and drown the pain of yesterday.
PUNCTURE-WOMB Creating pretty holes and lovely h… making spaces for stained glass pa… Now sunlit, with vistas of red; so… my room with a view.
Raised up like curds on Calvary I ponder on the time machine.... How much would Hitler pay For the journals of Trinity? Maybe I would lend Rasputin
Thoughts unravel This road I travel The end I cannot see In turn and twist My mind splits
A back alley dogged howl Aloft and insidious Whirling room to room Carried on through morning Is alive and well
Have you seen it? Did you trust in it? A road to take me Home, free this… I’ve been in the holes left behind… Her eyes I shut now in the intere…
When I was just a kid No more than thirteen Decidedly I grabbed A nightmares dream With contemporary belief
My heart sees, when my eyes go bli… The dreams of my people Woven; entwined Why don’t you take from me? Wouldn’t you gain from the eating…
The sun rises quietly, and in soft… it paints. In this dayglow vibrancy, with ima… it reaches out. Waking those in need of light, cal…
My memory bank leaves me filthy ri… even in that often thought of ditc… Loved ones so terrified of the sid… imagine me all dirty, choked, and… My tender
In the grace of a Holy Church bel… Chiming hungry latent tune We grew impatient for it’s death k… Muted ringing now entombed. Under guise and shrouded intellect
Soot It seems you may have some soot To gather, to get rid No other place but on your face It stays, persists
A Clock I draw from, with no surplus of Time. I must reconcile the fact, that until now; I’ve been in full black and white.
Dry is the thread, brittle and frayed. Now the stitching will not hold. Through dusty road and whistling trees, I traveled into the grit rich pitch. It would seem to be for nothing....
If I can’t be found, it is she who knows where I am; I am her Man. When I’ve gone too far, and have left all love behind;