1. |
june seventh
04:28
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i can’t keep living in the village
it makes me evil and blue
plus things and rent i got mistakes to pay
and baby so do you
all these windows open up
on other peoples’ views
and i have to take stock of everything
i see instead of you
boring books and mystic poems
how can time be worth my time?
for you and i the timing’s always off
and babe we even rhyme
i tried my hand at keeping on
i tried just as hard to sleep
but when you’ve got such empty hands
even dreams you cannot keep
i can’t keep living in the village
it takes a lot of strength
you said it switched your right and wrong
babe it switched my right and left
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2. |
june eighth
04:30
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we read the news from all over the world
the bhagavad gita we keep tucked in our shirts
our every new poem breaks its own golden chains
but what kind of freedom has fed us every day
if when our brother asks for a dollar we’re turning him away?
we listen closely for those passed around phrases
and make to each other those same troubled faces
thinking of plastic as we’re trading around the coal
and blood in the fabric of the metals in our phones
and all these words are spoke in terms of mysteries of our own…
we must’ve decided that the problem wasn’t us
and since we confided in the devil call it trust
we gotta be lying to ourselves in such a way that
we don’t know if we’re dying or being born every day now
and sorry for the kumbaya but aren’t those the same path?
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3. |
june ninth
03:08
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what kind of hand
is the left hand now?
now that it knows good and bad?
what kind of hand
is the one on your shoulder?
when you’re pretending to be sad?
and what kind hands are the hands
which aren’t hands but love instead?
when you wake you can’t help but grow and growing tired
and when you tire you can’t help but falling right asleep
and when you sleep you can’t help it but to dream away
but in your dreams will you stay?
where’s this house
that we all built together?
before you claim it’s a home
just know that hearts
can be a little misshapen
too easy to live in alone
the heart is where the home is
but where that home is nobody knows
when you wake you can’t help but grow and growing tired
and when you tire you can’t help but falling right asleep
and when you sleep you can’t help it but to dream away
or will you dream those dreams away?
what good are words
if they don’t leave your mouth?
and if you can’t take them back?
what good are words
if they’re only to live by
and not to carry on your back?
but even words can’t lift
another person up until you act
when you wake you can’t help but grow and growing tired
and when you tire you can’t help but falling right asleep
and when you sleep you can’t help it but to dream away
but from those dreams what will you make?
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The rose constants Ithaca, New York
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roseconstance1999@gmail.com
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