
From 2004 full length "As the Roots Undo"
Released by Robotic Empire and Hyperrealist
Recorded and mastered by Anthony Stubelek at Rockstudio in Brunswick GA

Nothing's so lucid as the promise of dreams, but these pills we found just make me sleep.
There's nothing quite so pure as the written word my dear, so lets have ourselves a little poem.
Until the will to speak loses urgency.
Our animal indecency in print is so blase.
Its about the bell tower, at the golden hour.
Angel of the spires climbs here steel cage staircase spine, angle of desire.
Ascend the wrought iron, one by one, wrung by wrung.

Is it the rising roof line that makes me feel so swallowed whole,
or the way my body barely pricks the sky,
the same as a century's worth of virgin's blood that's passed through my longing veins,
scheming to convince my aching mind that pleasure's got nothing on the miracle of need.
Nothing's so purile as meter and rhyme when you can't see the ground from that ledge and this perch is so far, far from the nest.
Gravity doesn't grant me the privilege of failure my bough never breaks
I don't stumble into anything
so I climb and I carve my initials in the bark with that feather I found but its all so contrived.

My genes didn't bless me with the foresight of a sage but I know how this will end, in apologies and ink on the page.
A slowly constructed crow quilled confession of my spirit to all of you,
black waterproof ink scars the board, so hot-pressed, pristine and pure.
A slowly constructed manifestation of "to tremble",
as base as a bridge in a song and less like the poem that I promised you.
Nothing's so lurid as haiku-detat on sidewalks in white outlined chalk,
all I've got is this ink smeared lines.
With our voices in harmony, the offering, of a crow quilled threnody. 


"Crowquill" from As the Roots Undo 2004

The Number Twelve Looks Like You -Jesus And Tori

katywentmissing - bullets for bella

Estates we couldn't reach, for those fallen

Dance of the Seventh Crow ~ Did you just get lemon in my eye?!?!

A Long Winter - Summers Seem Like Days, And The Days Seem Like Seconds

A Long Winter - Juliet

Prologue

Bloodlord

Some of Us May Never See the World

Six Hundred Cubic Centimeters

Going Down

You Make Me Want To Hit My Face Against the Wall

The Spawning of Progression

You Make Me Want To Hit My Face Against the Wall

On Broken Wings

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