subterranean tide 

at approximately 3:00 pm 
eastern standard time 
I feel the shore line
it rolls in and washes over 
a self playing with sand
some days it rushes in rapidly
flooding soft green eyes 
and crimson cheeks
and the sea, the sand, the waves
are all one force pulling me
into the same existence 
residing among a willful cosmos
sitting on a bench in an ocean park



Subterranean Tide

Zephyrus

the west wind
picked me up
wrapped me delicately
shielded me
from jaded weapons
of cruelty and reality
where I can crawl again
under cherry blossoms
and tremble in delight

Zephyrus

Somewhere In Between

the rising and the setting sun
the setting and the rising sun
precious gifts were lost
a soul lined with feathers
a soul lined with flowers
a soul lined with gentle folds
and here I sit, under an umbrella lined with illusions
situations I cannot begin to comprehend
situations made ever more complex
by souls of other sorts and most of all
by the soul of myself that I once knew
but I know her barely not
for she too has become a stranger
suffering somewhere in between
the madness of those spokes
turning amidst the wheels of man made horrors
still wanting to hide with her under soft blankets
wearing pajamas, tied with satin bows
taking refuge in her warm heart lined with such beliefs
that most others are just as innocent as her sacred self
that was once...
un-raped, un-touched and un-handled by human constraints
and with her I cannot detach from an ever binding bond
regardless of the cruelties inflicted by fear of gods and monsters
and faith that most of mankind is lined under umbrellas still
with feathers, with flowers, with gentle folds
especially those of both friends and strangers

Somewhere In Between

Tyranny

sitting on my shoulder day after day
morning upon morning, pecking still before the sunrise
the clock chimes three, four, sometimes five
ready to pounce upon a daily consciousness
and scratch a twice broken record of resilience

yet I realize we all wake up with the same tyrant
I may be yours, we are each others, I am mine
the oppressor is inevitable, just as the oppressed
and to escape such an intrinsic dance is as hollow
as sitting frozen against a curtain of celestial fields

and convincingly; I sit in a somber silence and remind myself...
to pet the tyrant with devotion, for it too is a pure captivating silk
gracefully black, magnificently rare and as precious as all fabrics
tied in exquisite packages unveiling enchantments of existence
adored and serene, like a rare rose rising from the underworld

Tyranny

Closure

Part of Subterranean Tide's sneak peek of the compilation titled "Celestial Matter" due out May 2013

Orchestral

Caterpillars Dressed In Their Finest consists of Gimu and Emily Loren Moss Ferrell. Gimu, a successful Brazilian sound-design artist, brings both light and heavy drone to the project and Emily, an American poet from Virginia, adds her spoken word and poetry. It all began when Gimu asked Emily to send him some of her poetry to experiment with his music. Initially it was a just-for-fun project until they realized they had created something special. With the primary focus of blending spoken poetry into a wall of sound. They have since became great friends through internet exchange and both plan on working more together on future songs and/or releases

Caterpillars Dressed

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