Tuesday Night Post #2-25 by DBL



Patient Naysayers,

Lets end the argument.  Lets agree that there is nothing to believe. 
Time is short, well this night is.  All I wish I will do, so I cut this short I’m going to spend the rest in a dance. 
-DBL

*     *     *     *     *

The Wasi’chu, the Pariah

This keeps falling out my box
Just as you opened up all those sealed tombs
Few to take the blame
Fewer to explain
As I empty my box of the things that don’t belong
I try to reorganize all the things you took from the encoded songs
My vision is only a weak connection with the past
The same one you took so you can last
As I get closer to razing the WhiteBox
Your growth surpasses the one I try to resolve
You and I see the desperate fight
Of the two sides that give the Force to a body upright
You and I see the change
The question is not what to believe or not
Let the adults fight
Forgetting that in truth it ends
In questioning it begins
For you its about the respect and awe that kept us in flight
A choice is yours to spread your wings of copper
It’s my choice to make mine in something I find more proper
As you approach a single moment undefined
It looks like I turn away left alone a path unrefined
Mine is the voice that you tried to forget
A nail looking for the force that could get it set
We know lots has been answered
Past the stage of assessment we are engaged in application
You want war you want a destruction of what came before
Turned away I keep it in
I am myself I dance in myself
Nothings true at this state
Until the end I keep it straight






Tuesday Night Post # 2-24 by DBL



Unknown Lovers Made of Substance of the Stars,

Believe that what we know will change in a present time, tomorrow.  Be ready to accept things your child self would have had an easy time.  Prepare to love the things that same child longed to see.  Forget the ground that you find so dear rejoice in the urge to resist the voices that pull you here and there.  Never forget the lover that made you who you are.  Smash the thumb that keeps you all but a dog.  Let your minds eye tear to clear the fog that smears your fear.
-DBL

*     *     *     *     *    

Isolate the crooked bone
Wind that urge that leaves you to believe
In that seat left occupied with the heat
This is fiction resolved to exist to replace
Known is objects hide in plan sight
Reasons creep in stride with shadows
Never can shake the black skirt
Willingness to love the space in which it spins
In a warm bed in a cool room lies the resistance
This birth that there will be            
Will be the fight we will leave
Change the cheers of pride
Make them tears that one can not hide
Blank will be the paper that will unfold
All the things that could not be acknowledged
Running from the fear of being left alone
Charge one to keep this throne
Swear sweep stare share all that needs to repeat
Scar the flesh that has more strength when it reverts
Gentle finger guide the palm
Into the intersection of numb and hooked resolve
Age passes on a wave of control and comfort
A step towards vocal call is a call to dissent
Feet assemble on a platform of love
Burning their soles in the crucible of misguide empathy


Tuesday Night Post # 2-23 by DBL



Distant Strangers,

  Find it simple to let it pass through you.  Like a chill that you can't control but feels free and pleasurable.  Wild is a thought a irreplaceable fear of morning light.  What do I search for?  An empty space to stay.  That thought that reminds you what you once understood is actual something you never could. 

-DBL

*     *     *      *      *



 She Died Cold, I lived  Seeing Her Mold
(Stories of the Two)

A rising step from heel to toe
Keep this thought close around ample room
Deep in a place a light sequesters a hope to grow
Back when you found it hard to say
Everyone has their way to not to show
Now I get the hints reliving sounds eyes rising wheels turning
Sudden vision of you practicing your gifts
Maybe then I had no way had no help devils live in quiet
To really share manufactured hearts broken machine stuck to stare
Never new just confused often found
Sent away in hopes you would be around

In my heart never true
They tell us sacrifice the new
In a dream walking near
With those heels I never fear

Stretch the time of every night
Details never lost as we engage in this artificial recited flight
Words we choose always right hazy dream teasing me
As before I left you there quiet safe high above the stage of fear
Revisit that one place there you stand always full of grace
Safe to dance wild swing arms climb the vine
Chasing that thing you missed before chasing it just a kiss to adore
Breaking down expose the want finally you are content grab it tight

In this heart never true
Tell me to sacrifice the new
In this scene you walk near
With those heels I never fear

In that thought it was right adjusting for the windy sight
A shoulder pressed hard and strong on a wall of nether thought
Holding back the words guarding back the choice to break
An honest theft to not show you wrinkle you scold you
Had it all never needed to adjust the screw
Just pretend all is grey find it better than to stay clouds cover rancid mildew
Lets spend the moment that follows looking at the line of our dearest desires
A simple map of that stage we never cleared standing on the liquid grave of fear
Always moving always flowing always chases us to empty glory
At the bottom of the pool this rose bathed and pruned drowned of smoke and booze
In dark there is only nightmares but for me
There I find my curse I wrap around this cold fire choke in smoke

Drown your heart kill the true
Show me you sacrificed your new
In my vision you walked with me
In your heels you seemed free

Tuesday Night Post # 2-22 by DBL

Ritualistic Self Healers,

In a bit of pain I am posting from the mobile from my bed.

The Hunter House show was a blast. I'm glad so many people came out and really enjoyed the performance. Sometimes when making art in a bubble one never knows what response one will get.

- DBL

*****

With every new pain understood
I acquire another to understand
Exploring the mechanics of this pain threshold provide the manual for repair
Sometimes the process requires a filing of priorities
One feeling of disrepair is set aside to degrade and dissolve
For another that has more chance of actual change
One must forget the signs of warning for much more caring signs of growth
This moment of self healing becomes a state of ritual of the self
Awareness comes at the heels of the belief that a string runs through me
If pulled I come apart
The same string is use to move me providing an anchor of self navigation