semiprecious

Temporary Rulers of the Cactus Patch

pareidolia

drag me around

waiting for the sun to fall

the only way out

we danced

Wanderer Above The Sea Of Fog - draft

full mast at the funeral home

lyrics are a poem by Negritude poet Leon Damas


this was done for a class with the one and only Prof B (Phil Bryant), to be honest i would prefer it be private and one day it will be privated. cuz it would simply be better sung by a black person, but until such a time as that version exists, i leave it up here so that there is an additional pointer in the world pointing towards that poetry.

i am working on a lot of other stuff right now, but if you're black and wanna take this song off my hands and do whatever you please with it (or if this points you towards a ripe and wondrous movement of militant and haunting black poetry to revive and proliferate in whatever adaptations you so desire) it is sitting here ripe for the picking. 

white revolutionaries, read that shit too. its fucking excellent and also we who grew up in and/or currently live in extremely white spaces need to be actively seeking out and consuming art from other revolutionary folks perspectives, especially black and indigenous people. 

theres a collection of poetry titled The Negritude Poets and you can find it used online. it provides an interesting collection of points of view on racial subjugation and colonization, translated from french, from a variety of afro Caribbeans and other black folks in areas colonized by the french. the poets speak from a variety of class perspectives, including touching on the experience of imposed posturing towards upper class status as colonized and racialized people.




Blues by Léon Damas

Red Doorknob Slem Zumm

Rotten Plum draft 2

Accordion Sketch 1/1/24

"That's my bowl," I said,
And you froze like you were dead.
Your fork had crossed the line,
And your eyes flicked up to mine,

Then you tensed your shoulders,
Looked away,
Said, "I apologize."
I laughed at the sheer absurdity,
You couldn't meet my eyes

Your self-made tension traveled
Up and down your spinal ridge,
And I laughed and said,
It's ramen water under the bridge.

It was a deadpan
Soup can
Moment of stress
I know this situation left us off in a mess,
But as I watched you get so serious,
Saw your face so tightly hinged
I laughed and said
It's ramen water under the bridge.

It was a simple lunch mistake,
One that anyone could make
But your face turned white and cold
Like our matching ceramic bowls

Then I told you yours was
Cooking still
Inside the microwave.
You gripped the table, knuckles white,
As if your fork had pierced my grave

Your self-made tension crackled,
Left your eyebrows slightly singed
And I laughed and said
It's ramen water under the bridge 

It was a deadpan
Big band
Moment of stress
I know this situation left us off in a mess,
But as I watched you get so serious,
Saw your face so tightly pinched
I laughed and said
It's ramen water under the bridge.

After all that I've been through
Months of disrespect from you
I'm at peace with what I've done, 
My regrets are only one:

If I could do it all again
I wouldn't wait so long
I'd look you in the eyes and say
That what you asked of me was wrong

Compared to what I've been through, 
Your ramen conflict doesn't give me a twinge,
I'll laugh and I'll say
It's ramen water under the bridge.

It was a deadpan soupcan moment of stress
I know that situation left us off in a mess
But as I watched you get so serious
Saw your face so tightly pinched,
I laughed and said
It's ramen water under the bridge.

It was a deadpan
Big band
Moment of stress
I know this situation left us off in a mess,
But as I watched you get so serious,
Saw your face so tightly pinched
I laughed and said
It's ramen water under the bridge.

Ramen Water Under the Bridge (2020 demo)

This is a draft for FAWM 2021! :)

Here's a mini song I thought might be a fun start to FAWM!

Lyrics:
The funeral director took a puff on his cigarette,
and told me, "son, call me back when you're dead."

My neighbor, the plumber, picked a frog up off the ground
he dropped it in the toilet and he watched it spin round

and the funeral director took a puff on his cigarette,
and told me, "son, call me back when you're dead"

the funeral director

Why are you so close to me?
why are you so close to me
your smoke rings fucking choking me 
so why ya gotta live so close to me

you've cursed the names of certain streets
I curse the place we used to meet
I'll say fuck my sentimentality
and fuck my car for the places it takes me

Why are you so close to me?
why are you so close to me
your smoke rings fucking choking me 
so why ya gotta live so close to me

I've tried to take back our soundtrack as my own
this album's mine, I've claimed it as my home
so fuck my sentimentality
and fuck obsessing over all the stupid memories

(why are you so close to me)x2

Why are you so close to me?
why are you so close to me
your smoke rings fucking choking me 
so why ya gotta live so close to me
Why are you so close to me?
why are you so close to me
your smoke rings fucking choking me 
so why ya gotta live so close to me

Why Are You So Close To Me

And so I sat, 
driving home deep into night
when the sidewalk briefly glowed beneath a softly flashing light
My vision smudged by deep regret,
it was a quarter past two
and I saw somebody in the dark,
and for a moment it was you

I saw a biker and I cried out your name
as I passed him and watched his light falling away
in my rearview
god i wish it was you
in my rearview

and so I sit,
burning gas in the parking lot
of the old ammunition plant
slash wildlife viewing spot
the park closed hours ago, but not a soul around to mind
god i miss you
god i wish i could just leave it all behind

(guitar/melodica solo)

i saw a biker and i cried out your name
as i passed him and watched his light falling away
in my rearview
god i wish it was you
in my rearview

i saw a biker and i cried out your name
as i passed him and watched his light falling away
in my rearview
god i wish it was you
in my rearview

The Biker draft

I'm a big man
muddy hands
taxidermy madlad

I'm a makeup 
choked up
pansy little punk

I'm a 5 foot
blonde root
mathematic fanboy

puppetmaker
heartbreaker
really easy drunk

and I guess that's pretty cool
and i guess that's pretty cool
(pretty cool, pretty cool, pretty cool cool cool cool cool)

I'm a dropzone
second home
summer walking on my own

wanderlust
fairy dust
wishywashy kid

I'm a lonely
gen Z
liberal-hating-leftist

i'm a commie
zombie
gender fender bender little shit

and I guess that's pretty cool
and I guess that's pretty cool
(pretty cool, pretty cool, pretty cool cool cool cool cool)

I'm a nervous
person
but I got a lot of stuff to do 

I'm a godless
morbid
corvid loving guy

I'm gentle
I love people
Have a habit of withholding judgement

but if you hurt my friends I won't let that shit fly

and I guess that's pretty cool
and I guess that's pretty cool
(pretty cool, pretty cool, pretty cool cool cool cool cool)

Taxidermy Madlad

Ship's shot down and sinking fast
taste each breath, it might be your last
waters rising, the fastest i've seen
we're in an accidental submarine

We're all going down together, it seems
in our accidental submarine
by happenstance or some kind of machine
we've built an accidental submarine

I pledge allegiance
to the flag
of the united states of america
and to the rivets holding this tin can
one nation under water

We're all going down together, it seems
in our accidental submarine
by happenstance or some kind of machine
we've built an accidental submarine

(break filled by me singing scat in a slick manner)

We're all going down together, it seems
in our accidental submarine
by happenstance or some kind of machine
we've built an accidental submarine

indivisible, baby
Indivisible, Baby
INDIVISIBLE, BABY
we're all going down together

We're all going down together, it seems
in our accidental submarine
by happenstance or some kind of machine
we've built an accidental submarine

We're all going down, we're all going down
we're all going down together it seems
by happenstance or some kind of machine
we've built an accidental submarine

Accidental Submarine

Pedestrian Bridge

I Can Feel August Again

Hi, I'm Salem! I'm 21, and I like writing songs as well as hoarding and learning instruments.

Salem Heideman

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