Where was I
Yesterday I was here again
Somewhere between Yesterday and Now
I've been dreaming

Oh my I
am back again up high
guessing at figures in the distance

From there
anywhere can seem
a little closer

Tremble for the one
all that we are here began long ago
all that we are here began in the heart of the sun.

Now ends another day
Down sinks the sun over the mountain and away
Above the earth the angels play
The clouds above catch the golden rays
Made my mind up about lots of things
Winds will blow and bells will ring
I've got a special place that's far away
To light me a fire and praise the day
All I need when I'm alone
Is a soft warm breeze to bring me home
Tall upon the mountain horn
Sing for the Time Travelers Syndrome.

Time Travelers Syndrome

"a Japanese yojijukugo (四字熟語, meaning “four-character proverb”) that describes the concept of being present in all moments. Whether these moments be in everyday occurrences, or simple in nature, it is understood that all moments are fleeting and therefore should be fully cherished. As these moments may not be replicated again, the proverb represents the importance of treating each moment as a unique experience, enjoying it to the fullest before it is lost forever."

一期一会  /  (Ichigo, Ichie)

his1

red hot like pizza supper

trying on a big dream

Travelling Scylax Staring into Space

Oh, paved road, as I glide, past the city
Falling in love with nothing, fine with just being

A gorgeous shade of purple, unfolds the night
The world that breathes from this chest, lets out a sigh

That breeze that blows this journey, I will arrive


With Jaw Harp by @j-colton-cox

Travelling Scylax, Staring into Space

@j-colton-cox on accompanying Classical Guitar

The Oldest Dance: Atra-Hasis

Antiochus

Beloved Cave Japes

1965 - you were 24 -
I remember drives down the Jersey Shore,
And the linen frocks you wore
When you’d pass, unannounced, through the door.

Late September came with the marigolds -
It’s a waiting game with those types of colds,
So you said, “Wait a while, porcupine,
I’ll be here, I’ll be fine.”

[I’ll be waiting there, waiting there.
I’ll be waiting there, waiting there.]

Smoking in the hall of St. Adelaide’s
With the Kashmir shawl that your grandma made -
You’ve been sleeping twenty hours
Through the day, in a bed ringed with flowers.

[Chorus x2]

1965

The algorithm has been kind to me,
Or so the numbers have me thinking.
And if I can contain the message,
I will drink gas station cappuccinos on the road,
I’ll make a quilt for everyone who ever showed me
Sympathy.
Oh I’ll be a star, come 23.

But can I still return to wilderness
If ever I should go astray?
And if the rotting becomes copious,
I will make a topiary from my brittle bones;
I’ll populate the empty plots with microphones;
I’ll learn to play gin rummy with the garden gnomes and
Then I’ll lay
Down upon the grass beside the midway.

Oh in the podunk caterwauling of the breeze,
Low rhododendrons seem to weep for want of bees,
And in the wake of Hyades,
Here comes the dribble and the pitter-patter from above;
The storm is near.
I can wait it out another year.

The algorithm has been kind to me,
Or so the numbers have me thinking.

The Algorithm Has Been Kind To Me

there's no such thing
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Music by Jackson Day

Time Travelers Syndrome

JaysWastedDays

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