Within my ear...a breezy whisper
curl my hair with their soulful ways
I gave chase to the fleeting voices
anxious of a message...so grave
yea
and I've lost touch with my peaceful nature
for in my bowl I've found a blade...
and I'm told of a dreadful omen
and I am sorrowed by the threat of change
cause this ancient burled bowl 
holds the old antler ladle
carved with a spell of love
the charms of laughter
and the peace of a tempered table
and O
the omen of that blade...a knife
was left to bathe...with disruption it's intention...
it's look of condescension
and it'll cut you if it's let to stay
yea
I seek the owner of that strife
the one so troubled to bathe that knife
cause...I've lost touch with my peaceful nature...for in my bowl
I found a blade

One of many compacts preserved in Wampum is the depiction of the agreement among neighboring Nations to make no lasting or harmful actions to the air, water, or land with the thought always of the 'faces to come' A brokered peace for future generations...One Bowl One Spoon

Artwork CoilPotter

A Knife Was Left To Bathe

I dreamt of watch fires and watch towers
where the keepers of the flame
could never go home again
cause all the world...
looking like a smile turned 'round
what once was right side up
is upside down
and it's like we were living backwards
with time sped up but unwound
and the keepers of the flame
all have one aim...cause
those fires serve as signals 
and those signals come as smiles
but those smiles never reach their eyes
the eyes that serve as windows
to see inside the soul
and in this dream...
among watch fires...it's the souls'
corrupt desires that have us
washing in dry sand and drying off in wet water...yea
do you speak the language of the land
or do you sit among watch fires
stoke the coals
of fetish...then conspire
tell me...do your fires serve as signals
taken out within your smile
the smile that never reached your eyes
and now all the world
looking like a smile turned 'round
and what once was right side up
is upside down

Artwork Loui Jover

Never Reach Their Eyes

SoooqSoooq Soooo
shout out to all your daddy issues
going back to the first crusaders
yea...quest for land
quest for gold...gonna make you mad, gonna make you whole
(but u gotta kill all the Natives...)
O Heyyyyy hey
but its okay
the fokin church will bless u anyway
O yea
hurray for the navy
give it up for the queen
gonna call me...maybe
send you a figurine...
O gee look, a colony...
Heyyy hey...its okay
if you camp within my boundaries
swear ur not contagious
ready to trade...say u got great blankets....
yea social climber colonizer
say u wanna be my friend...
here we go again
soooq sooooq sooo...
shout out to all ur daddy issues
a patriarchal hater...
going back to the first crusader
quest for gold gonna make u whole

Time was that a second son born to nobility stood no chance of inheriting anything...he must seek fortune elsewhere...in 16C that dude was Coronado (and many others)...S/O royal lozer

Bless You Anyway

Most days you'll never see me
cause I exist behind a one way mirror
let the world reflect itself...what it wants anyway, and so I move to be more social
and watch for your response
through my one way focal
and O baby
I can adjust...goin zero to sixty
like a beam of light...I make it smooth again
I make it alright...yea
and babe
I can read your body, couldn't be more clear...yea
gonna let you see yourself in my one way mirror
O do you see that guy?
'bout to lose himself...tries to look so hard
ends up lookin weaker...and
most days you'll never see him
cause he exists behind a one way mirror
let the world reflect itself...and so
he moves to be more social
and watch for my response
through his one way focal
and O baby
I can adjust...goin zero to sixty
like a beam of light...I make it smooth again
I make it alright...

One Way Mirror

O
I'm beside myself 
just don't know what I'm to do
cause I turned down your bed
wispy scattered locks from a witch's head
...a VooDoo Brew
where did all this hair begin
O what kinda spell...is being worked on u?
I might've been too hasty...cause I touched a strand or two...
and this charcoal mark...on the wall...
rubs off but it's something I oughtn't do
(or so I'm told) now there's dark where I knew light and all these years
jumping back...giving me the sight
and I've seen the LowBorn Priestess...
staring out at me...now the clock begins its tick...
unfolding life in a movie flick
a fevered dream of VooDoo Trickery
this wicked spell being worked on you
yea
and I could exorcise...
but my hands are not my own as I struggle in posession
for I touched that lock of hair
and my sight cast the impression
feeling like a fool 
falling to that VooDoo

Voodoo Brew

I'm still wearing my braid from yesterday
and waking up this morning my hair gave up performing
and I look frayed...
a bit of Einstein in the window pane
rising sun to halo me
and the morning light is streaming
as it crashes 'gainst my braid
and the crown escapees...who never once have stayed
yes
I'm a goddess for a second
an omnipotent projection
'til that second fades
then that yesterday braid becomes a casualty...ripped the plait away
and again...I am mortal upon this coil
as I begin my day
taking out that braid so I can go on
unassuming...my Clark Kent in a world
of consuming...my only superpower
derived from the plaited strength
...of careful grooming...strays aside
there's power in the bind
sucking souls within it...and its my superpower - ennit?
cause I'm a goddess for a second
an omnipotent projection
'til that second fades
then that yesterday braid becomes a casualty...when I ripped the plait away
yea...and I'm still wearing my braid from yesterday my crown containing strays
I have attained
a bit of Einstein in the window pane

Einstein In The Window Pane

I wonder how you like your coffee
do you make it bitter
do you make it sweet
and I once knew a wise man
threw salt in his pot...more than 
once a week
but that ain't for me...yea
so I like it almondy
feeling of a new toothache
hoping that pain is fake
but the reality ain't being considered
cause that ugly don't go away
when all you do is add a lil sugar
yea babe
do you like it bitter
bite me...when I feed ya
kick me...when I'm down
tell me...I oughta smile...
cause you once saw me frown
O but I graze on nutz and berries
and I'll forego that turned meat
got a stink a lil south of sweet
yea ur taste's a lil scary
and I'm wondering
how you like ur coffee
do you make it bitter
do you make it sweet

Photo by Eric Bénier-Bürckel

A Lil South Of Sweet

Turn the radio dial...desperate for a spark
any stimulation...long haul in my dusty car
hang my head out the window
howlin at the moon
take a shot 'cross the cheekbones
lining up for number two
yea
got the fever of the white line
but I'm running out of time
running for the foothills 
running for the wild
gotta get myself to safety
where I seek to reconcile
O this sundown town...won't have me
running for that sanctuary
foot to the floorboard
praying for a lil help, lord
prayin for a lil help
and dyin ain't for me
but this living's sure gettin hard
desperate to find a spark
long haul in my dusty car
in my dusty car
my dusty car

Mark Demsteader illustration

Dusty Car

I have watched u since u arrived
and O
my mind's so preoccupied with these visions
I hold inside...of the day I feel ur touch
the way u move and such...
ur creation...my inspiration
the beauty of ur line
and it shall be my honor...
to lay thy weight on mine
Elk Tooth dresses hanging side by side
crushed velvet in the bodice
colored ribbon strung astride
and O
for the lonely strumpet...feeling ugly
and un-stunning...let ur ruffles tumble free
moving from behind those Elk Tooth ladies
calling out to me
yea
that ebony laid onyx shell to sequin a satin breast...
chenille to chiffon this tulled Degas ballet
a secret begs to tell of a top hat in his day
and ur creation...my inspiration
the beauty in ur line
and it shall be my honor...
to lay ur weight on mine

Degas (Impressionist painter) chose his subject matter knowing the depravity in the  ballet as it was a well known brothel culture where patrons could expect compliance from any aspiring dancer in the late 1800's

Thy Weight On Mine

I know ur here...sense ya moving in the empty corner...
standin silent behind the wall and chair
permeating feeling
as the cold's chilling up the air
and I'm not forgiving
haunt my days with a chain of leather
tethered to me..
cause I'm living and ur soul grows cold
upon that chain...while I go on unforgiving
and in this ambivalence I yield
cause of all the hurt growing in my feels
yea...I'm not done living
but it's got nothing to do with me
not forgiving...
and I can't settle in a desert dryness
if the rain just keeps on coming
a flood with busted fortunes
leaves me unforgiving
haunt my days with a chain of leather
tethered to me
and I'm still living and ur soul grows cold
upon that chain
life goes on without forgiving
do u weep for your demise
with such dark and sullen eyes
the eyes of hazel green with the light of stars unseen
for the depth of my love...beyond the corner
I step into the dark passion all grown hard
since I was ur mourner
and all the while...
I'm aware of this tether
where I idle in unforgiveness

Idle In Unforgiveness

🤟🏼Working on new patterns and techniques in composition, production, and performance of both instrumental(classical/acoustic guitar) and voice- pieces are built on BandLab @nyla_k00  and Soundtrap (new)

I have removed the (amp) tag for consistency in distribution- acoustic pieces I perform will be tagged as ‘acoustic’ (apologies for page reorganization)

TBH, I aspire to be a guitar 🎸 but I’ll settle for being able to play competently what I hear when I write...(one day, Alice...to the moon)

I study under Duncan L. Wood and am grateful for his guidance and patience. Most of my influences are Folk/Blues/Indie, but inspiration arrives in many forms so HT to Hip Hop, Rap, Classical, especially Chamber trios. Current tracks are first cuts and I may update them in the future with cleaner versions, thank you for listening as I learn.

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