Piatitude001

Weirdo

I forgot to breathe in the coldness and the bare
a-void of absence...a pause impaired
as the walls shake...
yet I am spared
yea
I root into the dirt below my feet
new life old soul
yea
and in the song I sing I pour out old hurt
into that cold
for I will awake...anew...a reprieve
for the peace that's due...yea
I forgot to breathe in the coldness and the bare
a-void of absence...a pause impaired
as the walls shake...
yet I am spared
yea
so drape me in the finest dresses
prepare the ink for the presses
and tho no carpet goes unrolled
I am alive bae...yea
new life for my old soul

New Life Old Soul

If I were to question my emotion
reveal my deep devotion to reprieve
I do believe that I'd be Wednesday
not Tuesday or moody Monday with a 
stagnant breeze...
and I've been advised to grab and seize
my Wednesday intercessories
so many gifts...so lil time
let me regale U with my morbid Wednesday
rhymes...yea by design
and should the darkness around my light
become aggressive...I'll just slip into the night
...to pacify my slight...my Wednesday irrespective
yea...and I've been advised to grab and seize
my devotion a shaded tease
like a moody Monday, with a stagnant breeze
yea and...
my Wednesday intercessories
so many gifts...so lil time
let me regale U with my morbid Wednesday
rhymes...

I'd Be Wednesday

I'll not be lost to the panic and the fear
and you'll not find me
sharpening my spear...for the path 
before me is obscure...but its the cure
to which I'm lured
and what's before is what's behind
a mirrored door as I walk the line
can U give me a sign lord
can U give me a sign
tendrils of a sun grown cold
the black heart sun into which I'm rolled
and can U feel the heart beat...spirit
of a nation...callin thru my feet
yea baby
dance with no retreat...yea my spirit feet
heart beat of a nation
sleepin on the streets
and I'll not be lost to the panic and the fear
and you'll not find me
sharpening my spear...for the path 
before me is obscure...but its the cure
to which I'm lured

Spirit Feet

My mules are full of sand
and tho I shake out what I can
there remain these glassy grains
to cut my feet and leave 'em
bloodstained...yea
and everyday I must repeat
as I weep...at how I'm lamed
gettin told to my face...as I should be ashamed
cause those sharp glassy blades
just raise my threshold pains...yea
cause my mules are full of sand
and tho I shake out what I can
there remain these glassy grains
to cut my feet...and leave 'em
bloodstained...and ur so cruel
gotta cut my mule
and now I'm barefoot in the park
gettin that grass between my toes
and I've no care about no marks
cause I'm takin back what U stole

What U Stole

Such a simple man...do I envy him?
I can't decide if it's ego...or it's pride
but his simplicity of mind...makes his heart
kind...and he has no need for machiaveliiiii..
like the clear of headwaters
and his beautiful daughters
he never hunt's hard for defined reliquery
yea...and he needn't tarry
as a man of sanctuary
like the fabled needle...it's in all likeness that he hides
such a simple man
and need I...in complexity
become vexatious on all sides
then carry me on...should U think it wise
for I don't wish to war
such violence only leads to terr-or
nor do I harbor hate or ill intent
for I carry a pipe...as its bearer
aye...such a simple fan of that simple man
where the smile rarely fades

His Beautiful Daughters

Somewhere in a room that has no walls
where the wind can still get in
and time's at a crawl...there's a mother humming softly
lookin worried lookin tired
as she tucks away her baby
and stokes the cold fire...yea
she's been cryin in the dark
cause her flame has lost it's spark
and the hunger in her belly
feels like sin
yea
and who wags behind closed doors
telling tales to warm old wars
pointing fingers at misfortune
prideful at their wins
yea
feels like sin
yea
feels like sin
and she's been cryin in the dark
cause her flame has lost it's spark
and the hunger in her belly
feels like sin
yea...lookin worried...lookin tired as she 
tucks away her baby
and stokes the cold fire...

The Cold Fire

I take my showers in a lightnin storm
cause...my faith is never torn
O so I offer up a shot at ur concerns
and yea I am certain and if my higher me
wants my life to be...snuffed out
then there's the tower facing downward
got no service...to turn my world about
yea yea
and I'm finding myself down for the count
O yea
but if I submit my word
plead my case and lay it straight
and spirit weighs a feather 'gainst my heart
'gainst my gate...
whispering her love
and blessin's upon my fate
so...I take my showers in a lightnin storm
cause...my faith is never torn
and tho it may seem brazen...to put my
life at risk
but if my time is shot
then I'm givin it to god
O
and that's it...
give my life to god...O

If My Time Is Shot

I have come from my home in disharmony
and the notes of sour accent follow me
...like lost puppies...
and I have run like the lion to escape 'em
hunkered down as a gator 'neath the reeds
but all I've done is mire in the mudflats
infecting open wounds while I lick and bleed
and in the distance...upon the stagnant stars
there sits the gods anointed
amused at a life so hard...
yea...I drag my tired ass to the land of plenty
plant my seeds like a wild card...yea O
and I have run like the lion to escape 'em
hunkered down as a gator 'neath the reeds
but all I've done is mire in the mudflats
infecting open wounds while I lick and bleed...
yea and don't mind the sounds of laughter
nor the scent of nicotine
for I have bed with the gods anointed
a reflection of U and me

Lick And Bleed U and Me

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Alrighteeee den...range returnin!!!! get set......
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🤟🏼Working on new patterns and techniques in composition, production, and performance of both instrumental(classical/acoustic guitar) and voice- pieces are built (loops and beats)..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.

Lick And Bleed U and Me

Nyla K

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