Glowing

The moon takes me where he wants to go.

And each new night he shows

A different way to glow.

Frightened by casted shadows in the smoke,

I know there’s still sight left,

Only in light made of regret-

Where he paints me burnt orange

And dark.

Can I find ways to escape?

The moon takes me where he wants to go.

Over stagnant waters reflecting his distant frame

Past the sleeping city, and the live city.

Roaches in the night…

One night

I could have kissed his pure white face.

He was bright for the world to see

But only I could know his light

Because the moon takes me where he wants to go.

That night is long gone

And he prefers the ominous yellow light.

As do I. 

The Art of Perspective

You can look at music through different lenses, and the perspective you gain is almost infinate, due to the countless combinations, filters, speeds, attitudes you view it in. This is cool for those who see great potential for oppertunity.
Lately, I've been liking the idea of these two, huge warring perspectives that dominate the interpretation and enjoyment of music. There's the lyricists, who only view music through the message derived from the words, where sound is minor and is only used to compliment the message of the vocals. Then there are those who only live for the sound, techique, articulation of the instruments where a true message and pleasure can only come from. Words are just a formality for the week minded and contemporary who can't see past the clearly spoken song. Of course, most of us have our convictions, as far as music goes, somewhere inbetween these warring perspectives.
But if you go to the extreme sides, especially the side you're less comfortable with, you get to see some pretty cool stuff with music.
 I, personally am comfortable with lyrics. I can analyze them all day. I Meditate on them all day. I Apply there principles to my life. I derive inspiration from them. I soothe my soul with them. I convey my emotions through them.
So, you go to the other side. Quit looking at lyrics. Focus on one instrument at a time. Meditate on it. What it's saying. What its doing. Then, listen to them together. How they articulate. What principles they show, what inspiration they give you, what it does to your soul, what emotions you feel. Then listen to music that doesn't have lyrics at all. Or genres you don't even like. Get as far removed from your personal tastes and attitudes towards music and just look at the song not sung, but played.
What for? I don't know.


But.... I think I'm going to devote June to analysis through these various perspectives. We'll see though, because I really just could talk about music forever, and blogging doesn't do my thoughts, music, or you any justice.

Acquisition

There’s power in undeserving

Acquire what you know you shouldn’t have

Not because you want it

For in that cycle of self loathing

And utter humility

You understand it is not right to take what isn’t yours

But still you come

Because you need it

That ache in your heart

That vulnerable cavity in your chest

Is bigger than any void I could fill

But if you take all of me

The part you’re most undeserving

I think you’ll patch up pretty well

And you know whom to call on for help

If you still hurt

We don't get better

But we get on pretty well

And I love you

Not because you deserve it

But because you need it

Concerting

I've been to concerts. I've been to a concert of nearly 100,000 people. I've been to concerts with less than 20 people. I've seen local bands, traveling dirt poor bands, popular bands, really really popular bands. Basically, it's not that I've seen everything, but I have a pretty good idea of what its going to look like. And a good band, a good concert rather, will make me fall in love. And this happening can take place at any venue, any concert size, with any band... if they're good enough. I think I fall in love almost any time I hear my favoritest boys, shekinah play "the breaker anointing". I fell in love when I saw Spoon and heard "everything hits at once" with simple yellow lights flashing sitting on a lonely chair. I fell in love with colour revolt during "everything is just the same" with a tiny croud, in my favorite theater, with nothing for aesthetics but their skinny bodies standing articulate and focused. I fell in love at the center of an ocean of people, with Bono singing "far away, so close" with the stage dark and the lights of phones and cameras illuminating the night like starry heavens.
I saw the Arctic Monkeys. I fell in love a hundred times over. Did I cry? No. Was I overwhelmed with emotions in an inarticulate and pensive fashion? No. But let me paint the picture, because any and everyone would have fallen in love if you saw what I saw, heard what I heard, felt what I felt. Here. listen. The Arctic Monkeys are like the biggest band in the UK right now. Why? because they're super super good. I kind of don't want to explain how good they are, and break down why they're so popular, because I could talk about that all day. But, the Ogden is like smaller than the El Ray theatre, and we got to see and experience an Arctic Monkeys concert there. This is opposed to their usual 20-40,000 people concerts in Europe. Everyone had this nervous surging energy flowing through and around them because they had no idea what to do with themselves. Alex Turner's voice, perfection. Matt Helders drumming, dreamy, mind blowing, beautiful, hypnotic. Guitar rifs, dewdsick. With some really chuggy baselines that made your stomach queasy. The lights were stark and saturated, creating clean angles that cut through the thick, continual, intruiguing fog. This atmosphere created the perfect tone for the mysterious, unreal, and at times haunting sounds of the band. It was like a dream. The pulse of the fans. The sound that crawled up the walls, vibrating up your body through the floors, and around your spinning head. It was so real, like waking up to find your dream came true. They maintained their personas of untouchable badasses. So yes, I heard the nightmare lullaby "pretty visitors" and almost passed out. Right then, I was struck. I fell in love.

Difficult for Laughter

Coming out cold
Your eyes heavy with ice
The rope is still wrapped around your ankle
And your stomach, bottomless
Your mind comes back from the distance
No, still far away
Just as soon as you beckon light in
Darkness returns

No No No
Quick, sink your fingers into the ground
Hold on tight if you can
With that rope they'll pull you under
Under again
Only God knows when you'll return
But you're too far to remember
I've seen it before
Why do you think I'm not here?

I Guess I'm Fine

How could you make me cry?

Didn’t you know it would only hurt my feelings;

Pretending like you could care less

Telling everyone nothing ever matters…

When do it I still wouldn’t dream of leaving

But it makes me want to cry.

How could you forget?

I’m only here because I want to be with you, Love

Because you deserve honor and sweetness, Love

But sometimes I need it to.

And I tell you I’ll never be angry, really.

But sometimes I want to cry.

How could you understand?

That there’s a whole life waiting just to live, Love

A whole part of you waiting just to take charge, Love

A part that looks just like a man

The man who could honor and defend me;

The man who hates to see me cry.

Pinning the Heart's Wings

Holding a heartbeat so very still
Like the gentle pressure of a thumb
On a bird's wing-
It's not very cruel, but still.

When I'm nervous to the point
Of heart attack
You don't react, but instead
Absorb the blow,
Reminding me to be slow to anger.

But my heart can't take much more restrain.
I'd much rather
Unravel the chord and know
What it is you're keeping
In that slow, gentle hand.