Preface: 
My work as a nurse (and other experiences)inform this piece.
This poem is drawn from my own internal teacher/student dialogue, it's basically me talking to myself, so please don't think I'm telling you how to be, unless you want me to be, for a moment or two.
The written poem is included below for clarity, to read along while listening.
Also, the audio is not great, sorry. My studio is in the shop ;)
Cover art by Matt Rodriguez

Sip the Wine, Pour Out Your Heart 

i swear this is true. 
today;
a man with no legs farted in my face, repeatedly, said nothing, and neither i, as i bandaged wounds that only worsen, as he goes blind, and he loves his tiny little wolf ancestor/life partner, and life itself.
i also spread honey, as healing salve, into the oozing asscrack wound of a woman whose brain and body have been destroyed by sugar and sadness, and the madness of lost intellect.
how did i come to this place?
i tell myself
sip the wine, pour out your heart.
short, sweet, hot, perfect, this life.
when it ceases to be such, cast yourself into a volcano, set sail upon an ice floe, step in front of a rolling tank with a bouquet of blood-gilded lilies.
in the meantime; be cast out like a freak, be forsaken, let your mother loathe you, let those whose drug is power mock you, smile in the face of your beatings and ask for more, if only to harden you for the journey ahead.
look people in the eyes as much as you and they can possibly stand it.
laugh loud and hearty like a fool, scream at the top of your fucking lungs for all the days that it is demanded, dance as though dipped in kerosene and daring a flung/lit match, for if you dare not, the gods, they will smite you with comfort and safety, numbness, confusion, & entertainment, & the unnamed sadness, ennui, and fear of hand-trowelling your own grave for the pay to purchase the plot.
smell your own crotch, your own ass, your own shit, your own armpits, your feet, and all types of blossoms: early, full, and late. smell the dew before it is laid, smell the hair of children, fresh canned water chestnuts, deep-infected gaping sores, and the perfume of surgical womynchrists on the disfiguring cross of beauty, as they sad-saunter by, like make-up painted chicken skin sculptures stretched across metal clothes hangers. 
see your own decay, the wrinkles and rotted teeth, watch butter patties melt on toast, and two hour marmalade sunsets with dry tears salting your cheeks, enjoy the uncontrolled contortions of the happily tickled, then compare them to the beautiful faces of friends as they bless the fuck-up they know you are about to make, again, again.
bend as you break, smile as you die, slowly as a diamond ground to shiny floating motes. life is a gorilla dragging her drunken knuckles, take to your knees with joy, as she shows off and frictions his couple carat engagement ring to the world.
if/when you feel sorry for yourself, shake the baby of your fucking soul, shake that baby, shake that fucking baby, shake the baby of your soul with clear shining merciless, unrelenting love.
suck cock/eat pussy like it belongs to an angel and it’s your first meal after he just dragged your starving naked ass out of searing hot oven while she slit every last nazi’s lord-forsaken throat with the top of a tuna can, & do it with grace.
listen to the banana as it peels, listen to hooks torn from fish lips, the life-rich laugher of middle-aged women, the pulse of blood in your temple upon your pillow, to the deep, empty, stretched pause between the screech of skidding tires on asphalt, and the boom rending of metal and shatterscatter of glass across half a city block. 
stop. stop. listen to every trickle, every chuckle, & gurgle of water like your life depended on it. 
listen to the fuckin’ lyrics.
seek out banana slugs, lighting-struck trees, crippled dogs, lung cancerous smokers, wind-blind sea-turtles, child beauty-pageant losers, foundering mormon missionaries, hair-lips and walleyes, fireflies and other bioluminescent creatures. 
temporarily fix broken chairs. 
and forgive yourself when you slam your hand in a car door, or stab yourself with a knife, but don’t do it twice.
know nothing, but that your dreams & trips are as real as anything else.
in short, live, and die, miraculously. 
live, and die, miraculously, and come back again, as a dipping & diving, gianormous beast of slow liquid flight, suck tit while water swaddled, learn & grow, sing, crooning into the condensed salt moisture fathoms of the ocean. fling your enormous, gorgeous, slick body from out the water, and hang, airborne, caring not for when you inevitably splash back down. for you can, for it’s own sake, for you are the universe demanding to see it’s own reflection.
or don’t come back at all. that’s cool too.
i swear this is true. 
today;
i shared a deep embrace with a woman who cannot remember the day of the week, cannot remember how she fell and tore the silver-dollar sized chunk of skin off her leg, nor does she know she was born the year the US post office ruled they would no longer send children by parcel post. 
but her smile, her smile, nearly a hundred years of joy, is knowing enough for me;
to sip the wine, and pour out my heart. 

Sip The Wine, Pour Out Your Heart

" Holy Drops come out of her eyes 
and run on her cheeks until they die
And I stand still on the other side of the mirror
can't move can't shout out
and everything's so heavy "




Produced, Written and Composed by Fhin

Stream / Download

Holy Drops

" I want you to leave me, no you don't need a body
grab the wind and run then, you cannot be part of a man
cold water on my skin, the line to walk is so thin
this is so the last smile, I can see behind a thousand miles

I want you to leave me, i know we've crashed our sunset dream
grab the wind i'm burning, i cannot be appart of the wind
cold metal on my skin sing for me my heroin this is so the last time
i can see for a thousand miles

Cherry red headlight valium joyride high in the hills
Jamie deen mainfield faded i can't feel, can't feel "

Irréversible (feat Chløë Black)

dub reggae / jazz reggae / roots reggae - 

9 tracks - 
compiled & mixed by AlexMandis - 

 now on YouTube : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2jNRFhGpwNc

Kazufumi Kodama (Mandis Megamix)

Donato Dozzy, Terraforma 2017 Secret Closing Set 25th, June 2017

Humbled and hyped to be featured on the Sublimix series. Big ups to Sublimate for having me and for nurturing forward thinking sounds on this platform! I drew influence for this mix from various styles and sounds that inspire and move me, focusing mainly on elements of Hip Hop, Drum & Bass, UK Grime, and Bass Music. Shout out to all the artists who produced the tracks in this mix, especially the homie Shiny Things for the unreleased goods. Thanks for listening fam!

https://soundcloud.com/illicurates

Tracklist 
Kromestar - Home Sweet Home 
Supertask - Push
Halogenix - Her Waves VIP 
Great Dane - Uhhh 
Knautic - Connection Dub (DJ Madd Remix) 
Gohda - I Wanted To Change The World 
Ivy Lab - Thirsty 
Cruel Noon - Headspace 
Dizzee Rascal - Man Of The Hour 
OAKK & Shiny Things - HOLLA [UNRELEASED]
J.Nomad - Geturfreakon 
NGHT DRPS - Explicit 
Vince Staples - BagBak  
HMU - Medicine Man 
Bladerunner - Back To The Jungle (Hyroglifics Remix) 
HomeSick x Greazus x Sinistarr - Jumanji 
Eprom - Oksana (Ivy Lab Remix) 
Shiny Things - Freeze [UNRELEASED]
Chimpo - Sneaky Cheeky 
Metafloor - Wiggle Yo Clit 
Danny Scrilla - Come Cross 
Kelly Lee Owens - More Than A Woman 
LSN - Mofockas 
DJ Madd - Square Crabz 
Captivate - Motion 
OAKK - Talk To Me 
Cruel Noon - Midnight Red 
Magugu & Shiftee - Rompompom 
Sonis - Killah Sound 
Sam Binga & Rider Shafique - Pot Ah Bubble 
Dimito - Killa Drum 
No Cents - Flutemen 
Flamingosis - Gimme The Feelin’

Sublimix #13 - iLLi

Free Download

Take Me Higher

Dance With Me

This is a recording that I did with my cell phone inside the warehouse in which we were working to create the art installation "The Walkabout Woods" (http://walkaboutwoods.com/).  This is Andrew Gerard on the banjo and me on the sloppy guitar.  This will be fun for some to listen to, and very rough for others.  Andrew and I were messing around with this riff and making up lyrics as we went.  I'd say there are some good pockets, and some not so good.
Enjoy~!

On Tour - Circus Circles at Walkabout woods warehouse

Luke Holden

Related tracks