Poets are always taking the weather so personally. They're always sticking their emotions in things that have no emotions.
- DON'T BOTHER CALLING by Moses Sumney
- FROM THE DINING TABLE by Harry Styles
- HALLELUJAH by Jeff Buckley
- DUBLIN BLUES by Gary Clark
- SEPTEMBER SONG by Agnes Obel
- IM SO TIRED by The Beatles
- EVERY LITTLE BIT HURTS by Brenda Holloway
- BOSS by The Carters
- ONE LAST SONG by Sam Smith
- I CAN'T MAKE YOU LOVE ME by Bonnie Rae
It would be a shame
to the pen
to call every John
Adonis + Aristotle
a waste, no
There have been
too many words
and the millions
that follow who have
and her ways made
love to imagination
the suns reminder
on just a Tuesday morning,
In the time of passing tide it took to arrive and set wind to the calm + clamor of lager or an IPA if you choose did the smile and sun of humanity shine its ray upon the melanin I call my heart worn purely on my sleeve with no regret to the waking sobriety of the journey from home to a place only heard in song.
Now that my ears have tasted the melodies of dublin and the laughter she hath brought in only two clicks of the short hand or a slight shadow in the dial does my mouth wide with joy and wayward eyes long to return to place I haven’t even left.
Gather ye round
to camp fire tale
Who naked was bore
On lilac + veils
To test the tempest
And rock the river
blanket to sun
only scarlet + miniver.
I'm SO TIRED
I’d give you everything I got
For the promise of just the occasion
Dance with me in your eyes
And you shall find me a live man
Take with me the remnants of scarlet
And make a new
Sunken eyes turned to sleep
In tandem with the opposition
In dream like combative state
Only to wake and Time has yet to move
Constant dot on the line
And toe in its crease
Where the edges turn to smile.
" Finding no blueprint to map such soulful exodus,
Nor manifest to record where exactly and how far Apollo will take the sun into the next "
(Excerpt from "HALLELUJAH" )
" In allowance to the rays who cast no shadow on sleeves where blood make smile embroidered "
(except from " DON'T BOTHER CALLING " )
"Dance with me in your eyes
And you shall find me a live man "
(Excerpt from "IM SO TIRED" )
Every Little Bit Hurts
Watching ripples turn to solid reflection make meek of mine coil and magma.
That which turns to linger still beyond the dread afloat white pillows morning after morning into night begat the dawn and still no tea type lullaby. Ever present in-between the atoms that do not shake.
Down the cobble hill of abandoned castles and actual motes over literal fable. It happens when the ivory bang bang bangs the drum-onyx vibrations to shock the chamber into thinking it can feel again and all is new and as it could have been.
So strung to necessary still and yet plunged to re-verb at the mer stance of decent days and nights.
The slacks and tackled tight ends who roam the concrete field of crosswalks and alley ways between 23rd and 48th streets no only the kindness of a leprechaun charm-the handle to the heart of the safe that turns to whimsy under tyrannical rule, ever present in the silence of subway cars between 6:25 and 8:15am on a Tuesday.
When the resolute has sunk in that bills must be paid and food must be had to sustain the fervor of the dream that brought us here under the impression that you can have that which you can see, only to find the dream long gone and deferred as told-but never as taken!
The swords to cross and analyze into function over policy is one never too easily learned but always fortunate to play, having a digit to the game in the cross counts of binary rule over the myriad of options earth and the cosmos have profited
Purging the notion that logic can’t be changed and to subscribe to a doctrine that yes! May lead the huddled masses but may not resonate with the beats of your tribe is and will never be the route even the Cheshire will lead
Deep afloat the board rooms-front desks-studio green room-extras holding and banks the truth of the matter is waiting to be held to the standard of the now and ever present idea of so many thens
DON'T BOTHER CALLING
Let’s travel down river
Taking the pieces of grass that flood our fingertips along to folly
In honest quest we find the frame that holds the prism on its heels
Making dimples in the mud that give way to new notions of earth
"All together now (all together now) all together now!"
In allowance to the rays who cast no shadow on sleeves where blood make smile embroidered
Held to the esteem of the clouds, silver, scarlet and it’s miniver
Etched between the ripples of thy bounty
in honest attempt to simply smell the lilac and softy sex the lavender
Where human hands stead fast toward the stream with eyes wide plum take as much as the heart will carry and sword.
No one has told me how to feel
Where to place my hands as to appear considerate.
How to laugh in truth and and still fill the void of the unanswered.
Whether ‘tis more noble of the heart to sink and woe-taking with you the waves that shock to tear
Finding no blueprint to map such soulful exodus,
Nor manifest to record where exactly and how far Apollo will take the sun into the next,
Leaving behind the army of stars to stare and become the stuff of dreams,
Turning nightmares to faint reminders of vigorous proportions vetoed by the latter
When all you have are the corners of prism shards and sparks to linger still
Slashing at the threads who mend the gutted heart once worn proudly as shields on the sleeves of man
In remembrance to those who battle a smile and purge only the futile
Holding close the ideas of that which he spoke. Love. Only love.
ritten in everlasting memory of Jake P. Walter 1987-2017
I CAN'T MAKE YOU LOVE ME
Morning will come
and the battle will rise a new
To sound the trumpet of testament
over the constitute
And and under the rainbow
Pass the cheshire smiles
And through the chambers
of the Karious Army