Tag Archives: music

Poem: “The Passenger” (2010/2020)

Hatred is a dead body
handcuffed to my wrist.
I drag it behind me,
uphill and down.

The face which smears
over rocks and concrete
is the same as the one
I see in the mirror.

The fingers which cut
grooves into the soil
bear my fingerprints;
leave their traces.

The wake I trail behind me
slowly ceases to be red.
The passenger sheds his skin.
I grow still more hollow.

Blank features pass away
as my face grows ever harder.
My back curves from the weight;
the spine is bleached by sun.

By the time the bones remaining
detach and fall away,

there will be nothing left;

nothing left to save;

but an empty shell
dragging empty handcuffs
behind.

First published as lyrics for Cindervoice’s Before the Turn LP (2010). / Republished as lyrics for Matthew S. Rosin’s Singing Is Contagious EP (2020).

Poem: “Cinders In the Throat” (2010)

There are many voices
inflected in your own:
every intonation
an echo.
Notes shedding their ashes;
cinders in the throat.
Something long forgotten
now glows.

There are many voices
harnessed through your throat,
remembering their calling—
breath burning.
Every new beginning:
a borrowed melody;
a spark of recollection
opening.

There are many voices
inflected in your own:
every intonation
an echo.
Notes shedding their ashes;
cinders in the throat.
Something long forgotten
now glows.

Published as lyrics for Cindervoice’s Before the Turn LP, 2010.

Poem: “Room Of Light” (2007)

Floor. Ceiling.
Walls of light.

My shadow
  seeps
  into my skin.

My shape
  is lost
  to my eye.

Floor. Ceiling.
Walls of light.

A motherless,
  fatherless
  point of shadow—

God,
  the memory of sleep,
  recoils.

I am behind the metal door.
My spirit springs to your eye.

Published as lyrics for GODHEADSCOPE’s A City Out Of Sight LP, 2007.

Poem: “Walking On Faces” (2010)

The dim light
hangs.
I punctuate
silence.

The dark corner
calls.
I choose
a careful path.

The floor is populated:
metal faces cry,
grimace, countenance
the violence of my gait,

clanking
     protests;
     warnings;
     death-cries.

I enter
the heart.
The ceiling is low
at my head.

Brutal steps
ring sharp
in my ears.

Detachment dies in
     protests;
     warnings;
     death-cries.

I choose
a path of return,
for which I am.

I remember
the dead
only through force,
clanks and cries.

What is my alibi?
What is my alibi?

Published as lyrics for Cindervoice’s Before the Turn LP, 2010. Spurred by Menashe Kadishman’s “Shalekhet (Fallen Leaves)” installation at the Jüdisches Museum Berlin (Jewish Museum, Berlin); video here.

Poem: “Violence In Crayon” (2005)

He takes a crayon from the jar and draws violence.

He presses the green crayon to
the edge of the paper: a waxy horizon
extends across.

Green goes down; brown comes up.

The walls of the house are erected:
two square windows divided
into quarters and
a rectangle-and-circle door.
The chimney and angled roof
reach upward toward rising,
spiraling smoke.

Brown goes down; blue comes up.

Mommy is drawn with a lightness of hand
that can only be called affection.
Her hair cascades around teary
eyes and frightened mouth. Her blue dress
emerges in angles.

Blues goes down; purple comes up.

A small circle is pressed into the paper
behind Mommy's back. The same
look of fright leaves desperate
indentations in the sheets below.
A mirror in purple,
his body is rooted
in place through shaky lines.

Purple goes down; red comes up,

is pressed hard into the paper.
The monster's face swallows
the page, hair exploding
toward the upper edge; angry eyebrows
over pinpoint eyes that nearly fall
into the fire mouth.
Teeth menace forward as
the crayon's pressure rips
the page, tears
a small hole
at the back of Daddy's throat.

Red goes down.

Yellow comes up, offering
a circle with rays extending:
a huge yellow sun
in the warm
corner, standing witness.

Yellow goes down.

Published as lyrics for Matt Rosin and the Dead Raven Choir’s Fire Mouth collaborative LP.