“The Ballad”

"Come out of the dark

This is your need.."

"New Look: The Ballad" directed by Will Davidson from SWELL on Vimeo.

WHEN THE WIND KNOCKS YOU OVER

The Walkmen "While I Shovel The Snow" from Jake Davis on Vimeo.

well they say can't please everyone

but i'm stuck on a winning streak

well today there's clarity

and tonight i see tomorrow

all at once the winter's here

all the lochs are frozen over

 as i look in back of me

see a shape beside the walkway

half of my life i've been watching

half of my life i've been waking up

birds in the sky could warn me

there's no life like the snow life.

MAGIC AND LOSS

LOU REED/MAGIC AND LOSS

"When you pass through humble
when you pass through sickly
When you pass through
I'm better than you all
When you pass through
anger and self deprecation
and have the strength to acknowledge it all
When the past makes you laugh
and you can savor the magic
that let you survive your own war
You find that that fire is passion
and there's a door up ahead not a wall"

one penny left

WEDDING BELLS

DRIVE

sometimes i wonder if I'm cursed
i can feel all the energies and see all these entities,existing on earth
my mind breaks them down
and stores them in a place that is dark and cold and hushed up
this place is located in the back of my mind,the very very back
i go to this place only in moments of complete silence and stillness
it cannot be reached with even the slightest bit of noise or the smallest bit of movement. 
everything will be thrown off otherwise, trust me
not even brown noise should be present.
pupils dilate,blood rushes,hair falls,skin turns rosebud magic and you are just a glimpse
of the ghost i visioned in my dream,oh come back falcon,please!!
muster up the energy


without these two chemicals (you and i) the power weakens and the seasons become
endless.


on still days i eat up silences
and i ask myself 10 questions
then 12
then 10345 
then 3.
and then it goes back to only even numbers.then sleep.


harvesting my spiritual gardens


sowing and reaping weeping and weeding
they are growing and shrinking then blooming and blossoming 
all the branches are pale and their roots are food coloring blueish green


i can't bear to hear certain sounds because they remind me of you
it seems quite manic and strange and everything always does


maybe your forest fire nature is too hot
for my cold hands and my winter feet


those webs of lashes spun over my reclusive nature 
this is: far too ironic for you to swallow or even eat
and eating is not always the best option when it comes to nourishment:
"NOURISH THIS YOU BUNDLE!!!"


coming back to earth you ask me for a portion and i hear you say potion
now you are crying because you no longer feel the same
you are anointing your forehead with magic oil and crushing up all the purple berries you see in the forest and i am sitting inside an empty swimming pool 
drowning
were you trying to heal yourself? 


you see my fake dead body


"invent a plan of romance or something"


so you rent us a car and we drive to a place with no trees
and maybe we don't ever speak of the things we were ashamed of
we just keep looking at each other.................


(THE WIND IS BLOWING REALLY HARD)


(THERE IS A HUMMING SOUND AND TOM PETTY IS PLAYING BECAUSE I LIKE TOM PETTY AND YOU DO TOO)


(THIS IS THE PERFECT MOMENT,IMAGINE-FEELING LIKE EVERYTHING IS POSSIBLE AND PERFECT-WE ARE JUST LIKE GHOST AIR FLOATING)


(I AM THINKING " GRAB MY HAND, FOREVER.")


the new car smell didn't come with this car at all
we escape and not one person can reach  us
the sun sets and we don't have much in our pockets
but i have your hand and you have mine
(reader: this moment WILL last,ok? this is not a total fantasy based rant. This is not a happy ending this is a happy everything)
and i kiss your ring and tell you my biggest secret...............................

the way this goes

there is no training camp
for love like romances
for heart quakes and heart aches
how to stop and go-on demand on and off course
read my face and tell me,tell me its not a face that longs for you.
i have waited.and i have ached.
for the wrong ones,and then the right,and whose to say you or you or you have ever loved me
each flaw
each misake
unconditionally?
insane.

oh the forest of my feelings,

my sweet sweet love,my moonchild mystery.

barefoot -branches pushing deep

into your skin.

moonbeam boy,i was: 

tree bark shoes and bug soup

you were consuming. you mammoth heed.

the days

long with the sun 

beating down -upon our baby shoulders

we look so new with our brown skin

I was looking -into the river at my reflection

crying for the pale

you were kissing me on my forehead

and then we began to speak of potions

our collections,our hauntings,our burned up memories

Dear moonchild,

How has our hair grown to be this long?

the very length of the daisy chains

we made the summer everything changed.

on tuesday: you are sleeping

by a lonely fire

and i am sailing,days and nights,and i was waiting:

for just one more moment

of time.

you fragment

you freak.

THE MIDDLE EAST - Blood

older brother, restless soul, lie down
lie for a while with your ear against the earth
and you'll hear your sister sleep talking
say 
your hair is long but not long enough to reach
home to me
but your beard
someday might be.

storm

You Will Hear Thunder
by Anna Akhmatova

You will hear thunder and remember me,
And think: she wanted storms. The rim
Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson,
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.

That day in Moscow, it will all come true,
when, for the last time, I take my leave,
And hasten to the heights that I have longed for,
Leaving my shadow still to be with you.

lone

"I could live there all alone, she thought, slowing the car to look down the winding garden path to the small blue front door with, perfectly, a white cat on the step. No one would ever find me there, either, behind all those roses, and just to make sure I would plant oleanders by the road. I will light a fire in the cool evenings and toast apples at my own hearth. I will raise white cats and sew white curtains for the windows and sometimes come out of my door to go to the store to buy cinnamon and tea and thread. People will come to me to have their fortunes told, and I will brew love potions for sad maidens; I will have a robin..."



— Shirley Jackson (The Haunting of Hill House)

kissing you at the bus stop was sad each time

• why don't you see yourself how I see you?
• good smells only
• darker skin,missing pale
• the forest fantasies
• the boy with the dark hair and almond eyes who reminds me of almond milk
• almond milk is good for you and something i always look forward to
• your darkness is shallow,which is not something to boast about
• the witches that turned into ghost that turned into braids in my hair
• the mountains were weeping so i fed them soup
• space of hearts
• the townspeople who only saw magic as a bad thing......
• daisy chains
• sketching only babies
• missing less,missing more
• the letters
• the road,the lesser
• the moon children who found them selves:kindred. well fed with life
• the book that kept on giving
• my heart is shaking
• you are quite beautiful,i think that almost everyday,i might never tell you. I'm sorry.
• yes,i went to the graveyard....but i covered my tracks
• the quiet and the darkroom
• grey hair gray sky 
• the haunting walk to the train that i miss/always lost 

APPLEPIE: by ALEX CHAPMAN