I used to live with my parents in this house close to where I am living now, and I wasn't allowed to smoke in the house, so I'd go out and smoke on the back porch, which was always sweltering. I'd go out there for hours, writing poetry, songs, reading, listening to music.
this is one of the poems I wrote back there:
your voice like lost car keys
never where i look
still can't forget things you never said
so loud when you're quiet
& you shake your fist at the sky
"that joke's not funny any more"
for want of anything better to do
random words shout me to you
your words like satellite hatred
on the mark
on the mark
I also used to have a, well, not a band, but a group of friends -- always rotating, never the same exact set twice in a row -- that would get together and play music. I had this idea to name the group "samizdata" and have various iterations, like Pigface or The Golden Palominos always had notes on their records saying "The Golden Palominos this time were:". This is a piece that I had written for a while and well, stars aligned and we (bunny, killy, solo and I) recorded it (mp3 by gmail if you ask...but it's noisy) using mostly pieces of wood, metal, a drill and the sound of paper crumpling against the microphone.
here is a prayer
from someone who knows
that god answers all prayers
but often the answer is "no"
let me know
why must i wait for ages?
you have too much confidence and all misplaced.
you say: " you have no need of hope, success is assured"
but will not stand behind your words.
maybe you will wait for a surer sign.
i'm sign of those three words you don't mean.
so I pray that god will tell me
of wonderous things,
of heavenly heartbreaks.
et in arcadia est
et in arcadia ego
et in mundi est
fiat justicia, ruet caelum
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