1. |
Germinal
02:19
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we can find each other
using veins as maps
tributaries for our vexed bones
when our hopes collapse
can we find each other
in these small dark rooms?
screaming for new worlds
without lending hands
you'll know the feeling before
the final beat of your heart
the echo of a rhythm can fill
the void for only so long
and in this endless regress
we lock our fingers
scant bones for a new process
reclaim the joyous
all we've lost
all we have to gain
new poems on our lips
shatter old refrains
build to break
using our coarse throats
lift this song on high
to strike new blows
we can take what's ours
we can forge new bonds
"we are the birds of the
coming storm..."
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2. |
Thrush
02:27
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we are columns of black dust
that constrict airways of loved ones
always receding in new ways
these lines keep playing out the same
tongues stay bridled
as corpses bloom in our mouths
finding paths around broken words
a new light beckons us to learn
a myth to hold us
to break our backs
the weight of history
in all that we lack
the fallowed land that we pile
in the hearts of our friends
let it end
let it end with us
bite the tongue and
fill the mouth blood
all Adornos All Bordieus
we're all left dying to know
spilled from lips
fled in droves
no return to our burnt homes
us pale shapes
we waste away
we've all been
lost at the gate
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3. |
Silver Spool
02:17
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count the times that we
woke up late and walked
the miles to the water's edge
spoke soft voices
left us useless
as they burned the rows
to build new Romes
revitalized and displaced
sanitized and erased
in the year that we licked
our wounds and we
stood in kitchens and
could not agree
sheared the branches
beckoned progress
stood in shade of last century
I'm an unknowing missionary
trading in gunpowder
for the dull roar of bulldozers
a quiet penchant for decimation
I guess it flows in the blood
as I walk my feet break ground
this skin can afford me place
the bleaching of histories
we're complicit in
torch their map of tomorrow
render unto them that
which is theirs
refuse the ease of this sorrow
render unto them that which is
theirs
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4. |
Wellspring
02:47
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how much more must we kneel to learn
in the way that our bodies burn
in the flames we found a respite
with our palms we work through the night
embers leap to birth joyous flames
intertwined they stake their old claim
communion in the haze filled street
deign to ask what is their peace?
left us arid
left us barren
stole our hunger
left the pangs
from our friends
we ask this
keep the names
burn the rest
we've chosen life over the
order of their past
built up the might
to bring to bear what's longed for
in our last breath we surround
blooming breaks the din
our feeble wrists push
through the ground
all our lore
all our myth
golden lies
sung in the comfort of our lives
hand in hand
calling out
multitudes
the dead will guide us
to the spring
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5. |
Subaltern
01:45
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swallowing dust and pebbles
can be as easy as eating figs and honey
at least that's what they say
at least that's what they'll tell you
miles, miles, miles
grey concrete and silver razor
no olive branch for wounds
just pounds of flesh in bloom
breaking bones like we break bread
zion's noose rests 'round their necks
the trees uprooted
as the world narrows in
as the gates rust shut
left so bitter
grab a hammer
give the monolith back to the desert
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6. |
Harbinger
02:51
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in spring we're reborn
just as the buds do blossom
write history not by
ink and pen but by the
stones we hurl at
those who wish to bind us
break up the pavement
find what lies beneath it
and with our breath in tune
the task before us renewed
to rewrite the hymns
with life's new exaltations
we break the light
by way of darkened skies
our once feeble tongues
now singe the praises of
a new appeal
to the storm within us
and still we thunder
our voices join in cadence
the tempest rages
as we build from within
to break their power
and bring our liberation
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7. |
New Hymns
03:09
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the spectre of our past
looms heavy with the
guilt of impasse
wrench from it a witness
freed from the circle that
this dirge holds endless
we're left with blank pages
the words unwrote give
over us to perdition
the ocean refuses no river
but the ties that we make
may just as soon sever
history yearns to be forgotten
we can only promise to oblige it
history yearns to be forgotten
we can never promise to oblige it
we thieve our own time
from the hand to the mouth
our final words get crossed out
with new abandon
songs echo from throats
negate the past that they wrote
we're torn asunder
what was once is now gone
in all we held wrong
and now our hands bleed
golden words on our lips
belie the power of myth
sing the new hymns
and rend what's due unto them
sing the new hymns
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8. |
Skein
02:08
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in falling
in blooming
left nothing but the lies
slipping through our teeth
impartial
unflinching
still screaming a war song
that falls on deaf ears
new speeches
old fictions
collected in the dirty
gutters of our wrists
-
damn the habits of blood work
or the way we've let the words fade
like those before us
language changes but can't absolve us still
bending under the weight now
the beat breaks and skips out
unexcused cursed mouths
as the tide wells up inside our chests
bound to intimation
a dull blade for what's expected
weep without crying
"a single spark can start a prairie fire..."
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La Bella Los Angeles, California
los angeles d.i.y.
four of us.
2011-
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