ALBUMS
La Ninja: Amor and other dreams of Manzanita (2006)
Manzanita (2005)
The Golden State (2002)
Zeroone (2001)
Come Out Of Your Mine (1999)
1. River of Life / The Yes Song
River river river river River of Life
River river river river River of Life
The very first morning
Of our great love understanding,
We talked until we were not able,
Touching underneath the table.
The purple rocky mountains
Of the new world rose out of darkness.
We stumbled into our reflection
And the sun came straight in our direction.
River river river river River of Life
River river river river River of Life
Dia, todo dia, todo dia
Everyday everyday.
Freedom from oppression
Self-expression for everyone,
for everyone, everyday.
The very first morning
Of our great love understanding,
The sun rose straight in our direction
And awakened our perfection.
River river river river River of Life
River river river river River of Life
Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes
The present moment Is revealed
to contain All that is Real.
We walk along the cliffs
Atop groundlessness.
Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes
The present moment Is revealed
to contain All that is Real.
No orders No borders No relatives.
No formers No futures No precedence.
Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes
On the night of a 1000 kisses
On the night of a 1000 kisses
We looked into the void
We looked into the void
On the night of a 1000 questions
On the night of a 1000 questions
We looked into each other
We looked into each other
On the night of a 1000 tidal waves
On the night of a 1000 freshwater pearls
We looked a lot like the moon
Hills and valleys, almost full.
On the night of a 1000 kisses
On the night of a 1000 kisses
We looked into the void
We looked into the void
3. Big Bad Wolf & Black Widow Spider
There was a Black Widow Spider.
Big Bad Wolf sat down beside her.
“Hey now what’s up, my little ladybug?
Can I lie here by your shiny web?”
“Yes Sir, my pleasure please.
You put me at ease
on the lonely road.
Take, take my time.
The scenery is fine.
And we belong.”
Big Bad Wolf to Black Widow Spider,
100 proof, rubber souls on fire,
“I gotta go now. I have no attention.
No way home. And no direction.”
“Please, don’t go yet
We have just met
On the lonely road.
Wait, we’ll take our time
We’ll be just fine
Where we belong.
“Please, don’t go yet
We have just met
On the lonely road.
Wait, we’ll take our time
We’ll be just fine
On the lonely road.”
David, is it true that fear is lavender?
How do you walk the waves so free?
Fear is an ocean of unknown proportion.
It strikes me down some sleepless nights.
Some sleepless nights, some sleepless nights, some sleepless nights.
Out on the patio, I told you how long ago
I had abandoned my will.
Under the circumstance, I really had no chance.
The loss, the let-down, the lameness haunt me still.
How far we go along the road away from ourselves!
How far we go along the road away from ourselves.
We were not getting along, retreat already begun,
Though we made it through the night.
Time came to climb the wall.
I was hoping I would fall back onto your side.
When one is hurt, and one is meek, and one is lost.
Love is like that lilac wine.
It makes you drunk; it makes you cry
tears and laughter, ecstasy.
Our bodies move in harmony.
We walked into town to find the man we found.
His wife served us rice and beans and beer.
We got just what we wanted,
headed down to the ocean’s mouth to make our peace again.
How far we go along the road to find ourselves.
How far we go along the road to find ourselves.
5. Esperar Es Caro
a poem by Armando Suárez-Cobián, adapted to song by Mia Doi Todd
hora, hora de la caída. ora en cualquier ángulo. yo espero
en la orilla donde la sombra quiebra mi mano y la contiene
y al punto se hace saliva un deseo en mi boca.
esperar es caro, caro esperar
esperar es caro, caro esperar
lo que no dijimos se convierte en secreto.
lo que fué y significa, lo que fué que fué que fué
es otra historia.
yo espero todos los golpes. veo
todos todos incluyo el mio.
todos todos todos todos incluyo el mio
hora, hora de la caída. ora en cualquier ángulo. yo espero
aquí y no es secreto la brusca caída de la sombra.
esperar es caro, caro esperar
esperar es caro, caro esperar
esperar esperar es caro
esperar esperar es caro
English translation:
waiting is dear
hour of the fall, ours at any angle. I wait
on the shore where the shadow shatters my hand and holds it
and instantly a desire turns to spittle in my mouth.
what we did not say becomes a secret.
what it used to be and mean is another story.
I wait for every blow. I see
every blow. even mine.
hour of the fall. ours at any angle. I wait
here and the sudden fall of the shadow is no secret.
Ok, I understand
That we can never be
More than a moment,
More than a midsummer’s dream,
A page torn out and crumpled,
A memory fading.
It’s a shame with life so short.
Knock knock. I opened my door.
Oh to be understood
here in the neighborhood!
Holy communion,
brother and sisterdom
Is all that’s left for us.
So get back on the bus.
She, I know her name,
Must be quite something.
Oh to hold you
In my arms all night.
I never told you
The things I thought I might.
Oh well, I’ll keep it to myself
For there will be many rainy days.
Extreme happiness
brings extraordinary pain.
Me in my fortress
bleed just the same.
It’s over us.
This moment will pass.
Kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro koko
Break break break my broken heart.
Take take take my open arms.
Kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro koko
You come to me
in dreams. We’re so hungry.
Ghost, I love you.
Wherefore art thy mate?
Here inside me
Wait until I wake.
And don’t forget your watch.
And close the screen door latch.
Can I borrow, borrow you
‘til tomorrow afternoon?
We’ll find that feeling
Can I borrow, borrow you
‘til tomorrow afternoon?
We’ll find the meaning
Can I borrow, borrow you
‘til tomorrow afternoon?
We’ll find that feeling
Can I borrow, borrow you
‘til tomorrow afternoon?
We’ll find the meaning
My inhibition
Your indifference
Are almost finished.
I wait until the end.
In the end,
You say nothing
Can’t lift a hand.
You must see me suffering,
Or is the distance deeper than that?
Deeper than that
Is my love for you,
Even if it never gets back to you.
Back to the drawing board.
Picture yourself in a new light.
What’s all that suffering for?
I’m left; you’re right.
You’re always right.
After the hurricane
When nobody cared or came,
Where was our consciousness?
Lost in some other interest
In the end.
My inhibition
Your indifference
Are almost finished.
Why wait until the end?
You say nothing,
Can’t lift a finger.
Running on empty,
You have no love to give her.
Are we so different?
Evolution made us so?
I’m all relationship.
You’re on your own.
I’m on my own
With my love for you.
Even if it never gets back to you.
Rocketship
Leaving the atmosphere,
One last breath of earthly fear.
Never fear, never fear.
Hush now my dear.
It’s an old world, old world. It’s an old world.
It’s an old world, old world. It’s an old world.
It’s an old world, old world. It’s an old world.
Mountains are made over many years
and unmade every minute.
It’s a new world, new world. It’s a new world.
It’s a new world, new world. It’s a new world.
It’s an old world, old world. It’s an old world.
I devise a better way to be
Maybe not for you, but it may be for me
It’s a new world, new world. It’s a new world.
It’s a new world, new world. It’s a new world.
La Ninja: Amor and other dreams of Manzanita (2006)
In lives past, we’ve crossed paths so many times before.
Here and now, among this crowd, we meet again somehow.
Again again again again again again.
In your eyes, I recognize, I see an open door.
I have known you, and you have known me, and we can know much more,
And more, and more, and more and more and more and more.
We are not strangers; we’ve had all eternity to arrive now at this moment.
Our syncronicity, it is a mystery. We must investigate our union.
In lives past, we’ve crossed paths so many times before.
Here and now, among this crowd, we meet again somehow.
Again again again again again again.
Here is my hand. I know the way.
I’ll hold you close. You lead us away.
A way, a way, a way a way, I know a way.
We could take this time, submit to the sublime, lose ourselves in each other.
Forget the circumstance, fall into a romance, after which there will be no other.
In your eyes, I recognize, I see an open door.
I have known you, and you have known me, and we can know much more,
And more, and more, and more and more and more and more.
Kokoro
Ok, I understand
That we can never be
More than a moment,
More than a midsummer’s dream,
A page torn out and crumpled,
A memory fading.
It’s a shame with life so short.
Knock knock. I opened my door.
Oh to be understood
here in the neighborhood!
Holy communion,
brother and sisterdom
Is all that’s left for us.
So get back on the bus.
She, I know her name,
Must be quite something.
Oh to hold you
In my arms all night.
I never told you
The things I thought I might.
Oh well, I’ll keep it to myself
For there will be many rainy days.
Extreme happiness
brings extraordinary pain.
Me in my fortress
bleed just the same.
It’s over us.
This moment will pass.
Kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro koko
Break break break my broken heart.
Take take take my open arms.
Kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro kokoro koko
You come to me
in dreams. We’re so hungry.
Ghost, I love you.
Wherefore art thy mate?
Here inside me
Wait until I wake.
And don’t forget your watch.
And close the screen door latch.
I’ve been looking for a way out
of this crazy situation now—
the world in crisis; seems like paradise
was lost and won’t be found
and all of life is endangered
and on the verge of breaking down.
I wake up all fear and dread-locked
by all the things I cannot talk about.
We built our house of cards on ignorance,
a landfill of deceit. The walls are hollow
and we listen, worry what they will secrete.
Woe woe woe woe is we.
We all know they’ve got it fixed
in politico-economics.
We’re junking bonds; we’re dropping
bombs we’ve made by guzzling gasoline.
Public confidence is shaken
like the apple from the tree.
Namu Amida Butsu, gomen.
Forgive me for my trespasses.
I do my best to exist east of Eden,
west of garbagetown, over-accumulated
karma. Armageddon, full meltdown.
Woe woe woe woe is me.
I’ve been looking for a way out
of this crazy situation now—
our world in crisis; seems like paradise
was lost and won’t be found
and both our lives are endangered
and on the verge of breaking down.
Woe woe woe woe is we.
Then the garden gates swing wide, and we enter paradise.
We are angels; we are good. We open our wings; we’ve understood
how time and change are fine; they’re the way. They’re the way.
We sit in the grass and we talk of our pasts,
a roll call of all our lovers.
A feeling arises we both recognize.
We could fulfill each other.
What if we do?
We each have traveled and come to a rest.
We’re trying to make things happen.
Neither of us know how to measure success.
Hey, we could fall in love and be happy.
What if we do?
All the butterflies rise to the surface.
I say stupid things when I get nervous.
Watch the sunset, forget all the chatter
All the butterflies say it don’t matter.
It’s getting late. We had better head back.
We could stop and get some dinner.
There’s a full moon rising, the stars are aligned.
We could spend the night together.
What if we do?
My room is white, the walls
and all my appliances, all compliances.
I live in silence, my windows
closed to traffic, all that racket.
You are the opposite. I could never fit
into your apartment.
Are we going to give up or (are) we going to try?
Are we going to give up or (are) we going to try to learn what life is?
The tide comes in, and we’re caught
by the rocks and the wetness neverendless.
We kiss for the first time, our lips and tongues
tied in fitness, infiniteness.
Then the ocean pulls back somehow,
to reveal a crowd of uncertainty.
Are we going to live up to the words we said?
Are we going to live up to love we made? made? made?
A house, a garden, a family tree,
fruit aplenty, all varieties.
Desire fulfilled, inspired until
the awakening from our daydreaming.
Here in reality, what we make believe
we can make happen.
Are we going to give up or are we going to try?
Are we going to live up or are we going to die tonight?
Are we going to give up or are we going to try?
Are we going to give up or are we going to try to learn what life is?
Thanks for your letter. It made me feel better. I was down,
and it gave me a lift; appeared the Goodyear blimp.
The tree out your window is covered in pink snow.
You put a few blossoms in the envelope. I didn’t know.
Now on the sidewalk, outside my p.o. box, I’m a parade.
I’m confetti of fuchsia hearts. We are never really apart.
You dreamed of me the last night of summer.
You dreamed of me the last night of summer.
You were coming. I was leaving. We met in the harbor
where whaling ships dock. We threw some rocks.
Everyone wanted you. I was not immune to the fever
that overtook the cast and crew. I couldn’t get to you.
But I had a secret, a torch to give you. I stole an hour
or two to share the fruit I grew with you.
I dreamed of you the last night of winter.
I dreamed of you the last night of winter.
(Hidden treasure, buried long ago, of immeasurable gold.
I’m drawing a map, connecting the dots, fusing the past to the present.)
I must always remember our moments together
and believe in magic. It exists just beneath the surface.
New York City thinks it knows everything. The buildings,
the people threaten to crush your body, your mind, your soul.
But you keep writing, and I’ll keep writing, and one day
the story will be told. All our oysters will unfold.
You dreamed of me the last night of summer.
I’ll dream of you the last night of winter.
I am a human being.
I’m made of muscle, bone and blood.
I’m full of awful feelings,
self-hatred and mistrust.
I need you now to be here with me.
I cannot reach the light.
I need you now to believe in me.
I’ve been giving up the fight.
I am a selfish monster,
cold-blooded and remote.
My words are flaming daggers.
They send you up in smoke.
I need you now to abandon me.
My heart is in a knot.
I need you now to put your hands on me.
Let’s give it one more shot.
I am a reckless woman.
I always make such a mess.
I follow my intuition
into the vampire’s nest.
I want to change for the better,
clean the slate, be good forever.
I am a human being.
I’m made of muscle, bone and blood.
I’m full of awesome feelings
like unconditional love.
I want you and me together,
faithfully and through all weather.
I can fall in love again.
I can feel the curse you cast is over.
no more no more Casanova.
hip hip hurray, oh hallelujah.
I haven’t changed much in these ten years.
I hit my head up against the wall
of my same ol’ fears, my same ol’ fears,
my same ol’ tears. I’m breaking mirrors.
I know myself again.
I remember what is good about me
if I let it out of hiding,
my enemy, proven to keep me down
love as a memory of kindness
and cruelty and cruelty
and honesty and true beauty.
I can fall in love again.
I can feel the curse I cast is over.
no more no more Casanova.
hip hip hurray, oh Supernova,
Supernova, Supernova. Four-Leaf Clover.
Luna Lune, let me see your other side.
One you never show to the world, show to me.
Luna Lune, you are all reflection—
sign, symbol, second nature. Reveal yourself to me.
Luna Lune, luna lune,
lay down and deep with me in silent space.
Here you come and go again.
Here you come and go again away.
Luna Lune, let me see your other side.
One you never show to the world, show to me.
Looking for a window into your soul,
if and when I find it, will the blinds be closed?
I drag me up the drainpipe, leap for the fire ladder.
Seventeen stories, and I’m still climbing higher.
Looking for a window into your soul,
if and when I find it, will the blinds be closed?
I went to Samy’s Camera to buy binoculars,
took home a tall telescope ten thousand times power.
Looking for a window into your soul,
if and when I find it, will the blinds be closed?
I set up on a rooftop just across the way.
In the summer, sweat poured. In the winter, it was rain.
Looking for a window into your soul,
if and when I find it, will the blinds be closed?
Looking for a window into your hear,
if and when I find it, will the insides be dark?
Looking for a window into your mind,
if and when I find it, will we both be tongue-tied.
I am deep at sea.
I made myself break free
of the anchor keeping me
safe and sound in sanity,
safe inside my old routine.
I am far from land.
I have left in my hand
a few grains of sand,
and I try to understand
the world in all its expanse.
Alone again, I hope to find
a greater kindness, peace of mind,
a faith, a joy in my core.
I leave my love on familiar shores.
I am deep at sea.
The waves roll over me.
Tossed among eternity,
I am as much as everything.
I am good for nothing.
Alone again, I hope to find
a greater kindness, peace of mind,
a faith, a joy in my core.
I head for some unknown shore.
I am deep at sea.
I am swimming. I am free.
A great love envelops me.
I feel a part of something.
This life, it is for living.
The truth is growing stronger.
My youth is getting farther.
I am deep at sea.
I gave you my home.
I gave you my hope.
The walls, they surround us,
unbound us. We are one.
I gave you my heart.
I gave you my art.
All of creation
is here in my kitchen.
Soup is on.
Lover, lover, come on over.
You gave me your home.
You gave me your hope,
built us an altar
of bronze and redwood timber.
The stairs are done.
You gave me your heart.
You gave me your art,
drawings and flowers
and so many hours.
Night has come.
Lover, lover, roll on over.
We woke up from dreams,
took turns at the sink.
We crawl back into bed.
There are eggs for an omelet,
if you’re hungry.
Lover, lover, turn me over.
Gravity and entropy,
they have it out inside of me.
Eighty-eight ways to build and destroy.
I dig my own grave. I carve my own decoy.
O, what should I be in this world so self-destructing?
O, what should I be in this world so self-constructing?
Eighty-eight ways to build and destroy.
I fuel my decay. I trample my joy.
O, what should I be in this world so self-destructing?
O, what should I be in this world so self-constructing?
Gravity and entropy,
they have it out inside of me.
The hermit and the hero walk in parallel lines,
One with bow and arrow, the other bowed eyes.
In the house of mirrors,
looking different but the same,
one pendulum swings from loving
to and back from disdain.
Eighty-eight ways to build and destroy.
I dig my own grave. I carve my own decoy.
O, what should I be in this world so self-destructing?
O, what should I be in this world so self-constructing?
Gravity and entropy,
they have it out inside of me.
2. Digital
Digital, binary system, ones & zeroes, dark vs. light,
yin and yang, x & y, my mother and my father
made me one night.
In the beginning, a murky mass of hydrogen helium
voted to organize into higher elements,
carbon nitrogen & oxygen, protons electrons collide.
Digital, binary system, ones & zeroes, dark vs. light,
yin and yang, x & y, my mother and my father
made me one night.
Forbidden fruit rotting on the vine.
Forbidden fruit, turning to wine. Intoxicating.
Nakedly we lay in an ecstatic embrace, trying not to
come too quickly, one minute rise, plastic bagged
lubricated safety tube.
This is not a through street; one cannot pass here,
but where me and you meet to graze the divine pastures.
This is not a through street; one cannot pass here,
but run and jump with two feet
and break through all the matter.
Throw your body to the edge of crisis.
Paralysis is everywhere.
Throw your body to the edge of crisis.
Paradise is everywhere.
Digital, binary system, ones & zeroes, dark vs. light,
yin and yang, x & y, my mother and my father
in me still fight, in me unite.
3. Independence Day
There’s a battleship parked in the river,
reenacting open doors, open arms, then open fire.
There are mushroom clouds and machine-gunned copters
descending in the snap crackle pop fizzle of the fireworks
as they blast into the night air breathed in by
innumerable passengers screaming “We Are Number One.”
Independence Day, our freedom is won,
to choose our own way, when to go, what’s to come.
But with each tie we break, there is sacrifice.
How many lives will it take? How many loves just must die?
There’s a man I just met; he hasn’t kissed me yet.
He reminds me of someone else, only better.
But I’m made out of wax, so easy to impress.
Am I melting too fast, dripping into your lips?
Because all my heroes have turned human this year,
slinking ‘round pool tables, sinking into unfabled stupors,
whispering in the night air or into some girl’s hair:
“I Am Number One.”
There’s a battleship parked in the Charles River,
Shooting off fireworks that light up the world,
then fall in the water.
My love’s next to me, head full of the next century
and wondering whether there’ll be a wedding tomorrow.
And the secret smoke signals in the aftermath of gunpowder
seem the most significant indication of what’s to come.
4. Merry Me
Once I was enslaved to a human being.
What to do today now that I’m free?
Merry me, merry me, merry me,
is this how it feels to realize one’s dream?
Once I was enslaved to a human being,
my mother, my lover. Next who will it be?
Marry me, marry me, marry me.
I’m happiest in the pursuit of liberty.
Once I was enslaved to a human being,
one half the saint and the other the villain.
Marry me, marry me, marry me,
kiss the only hand there in emergency.
Marry me, marry me, marry me,
kiss the only hand there til’ eternity.
Once I was enslaved to a human being.
What to do today now that I’m free?
Merry me, merry me, merry me,
is this how it feels to realize my dreams?
5. Like A Knife
Like a knife come to slit my ties to the past,
to all the things which bind me to the grave, you came.
You came in the morning after a long night.
You came in the morning after a dark night.
I stared into the knife, to see if it would hurt me,
threaten my life, use me and desert me.
To a decision, I came.
I came in the morning after a long night.
I came in the morning after a dark night.
I took the knife, slid it under my belt,
was so surprised at the joy I felt
to come out of the mourning, I came.
I came out of the mourning after a long night.
I came out of the mourning after a dark night.
Like a knife come to slit our ties to the past,
to all the things which bind us to the grave, we came.
We came in the morning after a long night.
We came in the morning after a dark night.
6. Autumn
No no no, I know,
you owe me nothing.
No no no, I know,
I’m not your job.
No no no, I know,
we should just walk away.
We both know we know it’s hard.
Autumn come to a seaside town
a little later than the rest.
The leaves hold on a little longer
than they would have out West.
The leaves let go, so let them go.
The leaves let go, so let them go.
The leaves let go, so let them go.
The leaves let go, so let them.
These are the growing pains.
Baby born; body must change.
These are the growing pains.
Skin and bone learn to replicate
is to divide, destroy themselves
towards a whole and greater health.
These are the growing pains.
Love is born; life must change.
These are the growing pains.
Skin and bone learn to congregate.
They push and pull to meet and become one,
forge a frontier and a language common.
I’ve been heartbroken for a year and a day.
My adultery put my child to bed in shame.
She’s not feeling well. She won’t come out to play.
All the other girls and boys, they know what’s best:
forgive the past and live for the present.
These are the growing pains.
Nation born; nature must change.
These are the growing pains.
We came by boats, in hopes, in chains,
felled the forest for farm and firewood, and built
a church on the hill to pray for the greater good.
These are the growing pains.
Country born; conscience must change.
These are the growing pains.
By gunpoint and penpoint, the West was claimed
as one man’s burden, another’s manifest destiny,
with peace and justice divided unequally.
I’ve been heartbroken for a year and a day.
My adultery put my child to bed in shame.
She’s not feeling well. She won’t come out to play.
All the other girls and boys, they know what’s best:
forgive the past and live for the present.
These are the growing pains.
Love is borne; life must change.
These are the growing pains,
the breakdown of the barricades.
There’s fear and cowardice to be overcome
by instinct, force and momentum.
8. Poppy Fields
I scrub my blackened feet,
scrape off the caked on grime of the street.
I wash my hands and face
of the worldly soot that accumulates
in the day-in-day-out farcical strife,
in the humdrum of everyday life.
And I enter my home clean,
step up to the hearth I’ve deemed my own.
I sit down on the bidet
and shower my flower of the decay
that sets in when she lets in a guest
for recreation no creation, her slight protest.
And I enter my bed clean,
lay down my head and dream
of another world.
The desert springs to life.
The golden chaparral gives up her rights
to poppy fields for miles
and purple lupin lavender behind
another world.
Waking with the sun,
the poppy petals peel back to open
and turn the hills orange
to start another cycle of seasons.
Another world.
We dance as whooping cranes
who once again have found their lifetime mates.
We bound across the plains,
roll down slopes, fill our white coats with stains
of another world.
We come to rest as one
at the bottom of the hill, start to make love.
We lean against the earth,
rocking back and forth and back and forth, back and forth.
Another world.
Under a wild sky setting sun,
we ride the waves towards something still to come.
Another world.
He danced on his deathbed
and so performed his final dance
for friends, family, and lovers,
and all those who’d had the chance
to know him, to love him.
My domesticated body
and my mind by moderation tamed
seethe within my xerox-copied skin,
and I ask him: “Is all freedom dark?”
One thousand and one birds
take off in an instant,
flying-feeling-filling through the air,
and I ask them: “Is all freedom light?”
He danced on his deathbed
and so performed his final dance
for friends, family, and lovers,
and all those who’d had the chance
to know him, to love him.
In my age of reason,
complicated by feeling,
I dream of impossible things.
I dream of impractical things.
In my age of anxiety,
complicated by destiny,
I waste away the day.
In my age of anger,
complicated by female matters,
I scream mutiny.
In my age of desperation,
complicated by ambition,
I shoot myself in the foot.
In my age of envy,
Complicated by money,
I go for broke.
In my age of doubt,
complicated by our falling out,
I pray to an unexistent God.
In my age of reason,
complicated by feeling.
I dream of impossible things.
I dream of impractical things.
Digital, binary system, ones & zeroes, dark vs. light,
yin and yang, x & y, my mother and my father made me one night.
In the beginning, a murky mass of hydrogen helium
voted to organize into higher elements,
carbon nitrogen & oxygen, protons electrons collide.
Digital, binary system, ones & zeroes, dark vs. light,
yin and yang, x & y, my mother and my father made me one night.
Forbidden fruit rotting on the vine.
Forbidden fruit, turning to wine. Intoxicating.
Nakedly we lay in an ecstatic embrace, trying not to
come too quickly, one minute rise, plastic bagged
lubricated safety tube.
This is not a through street; one cannot pass here,
but where me and you meet to graze the divine pastures.
This is not a through street; one cannot pass here,
but run and jump with two feet and break through all the matter.
Throw your body to the edge of crisis: Paradise is everywhere.
Throw your body to the edge of crisis: Paralysis is everywhere:
Clogged veins arteries threaten minor heartattacks traffic jams prevail:
Thefoolthefish that failed to merge like the others did into one of two
opposing schools of population in transition: information transference overload:
circuitboard’s a sign of a city understanding: synapses awakening mind:
citystate citizen citymeditate citymedecine: proteinzoned prozac
hormonefortified malefemales feel no ails from the moon
revolving ‘round us, pulling tides and currents: blood dripping out of tune:
seedless grapes tangerines longer lasting better tasting obedient mules:
This is not a through street; one cannot pass here,
but where me and you meet to graze the divine pastures.
This is not a through street; one cannot pass here,
but run and jump with two feet and break through all the matter.
Throw your body to the edge of crisis: Paradise is everywhere.
Throw your body to the edge of crisis: Paralysis is everywhere:
Digital, binary system, ones & zeroes, dark vs. light,
yin and yang, x & y, my mother and my father
in me still fight, in me unite.
Visited by my ancestress falling from her wilderness
Through my bedroom window: a dragon with sizzling breath, a dragon
with fourteenfootlong breasts to pass her ticking life on, to suckle if you want.
You came you saw got what you wanted and now you’ll go
Satisfied alone to stagnate wait for something better never comes
The doldrums drone on and duplicate multiply rabbitly to the horizon:
Can’t see nothing but horrible to the horizon.
Digital, binary system, ones & zeroes, dark vs. light,
yin and yang, x & y, my mother and my father made me one night.
I scrub my blackened feet,
scrape off the caked on grime of the street.
I wash my hands and face
of the worldly soot that accumulates
in the day-in-day-out farcical strife,
in the humdrum of everyday life.
And I enter my home clean,
step up to the hearth I’ve deemed my own.
I sit down on the bidet
and shower my flower of the decay
that sets in when she lets in a guest
for recreation no creation, her slight protest.
And I enter my bed clean,
lay down my head and dream
of another world.
The desert springs to life.
The golden chaparral gives up her rights
to poppy fields for miles
and purple lupin lavender behind
another world.
Waking with the sun,
the poppy petals peel back to open
and turn the hills orange
to start another cycle of seasons.
Another world.
We dance as whooping cranes
who once again have found their lifetime mates.
We bound across the plains,
roll down slopes, fill our white coats with stains
of another world.
We come to rest as one
at the bottom of the hill, start to make love.
We lean against the earth,
rocking back and forth and back and forth, back and forth.
Another world.
Under a wild sky setting sun,
we ride the waves towards something still to come.
Another world.
O, my obsession.
Will I see you tomorrow?
Will I renew my sorrow?
Be like someone else now;
You’ve wasted much time
in the henhouse.
I wear the clown’s nose,
But the elastic band
Sometimes goes snap,
And I go scrambling
Across the floor
Apologetically babbling: Elle,
Elle pourrait comprendre
Si tu m’embrasses
(sera sera)
comme un enfant.
Why princess Diana?
I see your face in the hands of
Hong Kong kids summer ’97
On the Bowery above Canal
Chinatown Manhattan,
Mimeographed flyers
In memorium.
O, my obsession.
O, B-I-L-L-Y my obsession.
Will I see you tomorrow?
Will I renew my sorrow?
Ziggurats are built only to crumble
We approach the gods
Then prepare to tumble down.
Love’s a kind of knowledge
You’ve written that on your arm
The kind you learn in college
In cafes and beds and bars
And I am studying my youth away.
For they will take my island,
Of that much I’m sure.
The tides roll in from Thailand
To pilfer my shores, grain by grain
By grain, they drive me insane.
I still drive under you influence
Crawling cross-country
A year and a day of St. Louis misery
With my tail between my legs
And my shoulders hunched.
There’s a shell on the beach
For every broken home
And we pick up the pieces
From out the seafoam
But our hands are too weak
And small to hold them all.
Walking across the grass
I’ve got a peaceful feeling
How long will this moment last?
When will I hit the ceiling?
Shatter this beautiful feeling
Into all those disregardable pieces?
Walking across the grass
I’ve got a peaceful feeling
Looking forward
And through the past
To see without seeing
Into the sea of seathing
Timespacematter where
Nothing’s the matter
I am all alone
You are all alone
Her we are alone
Together tonight
I am all inside
You are all inside
How to get inside
Each other tonight?
Hey you otter
Crack open my shell
Hey you oughta
Dive deep for my pearl
The safety behind bars and in motorcycle sidecars keeps me
Asleep all night, deep alright, so I’m not frightened by the dark.
My ears tucked in my pillow, hear not the wind blow.
I’m a passenger, a prisoner. The will is not my own.
And when the customs officer asks if I’ve anything to declare,
I keep my mouth shut, so no one will mess with me.
The theater in nightclubs from Kabukicho to Las Vegas
Shine the brightest stages, keep the tightest cages,
Swap the playbills for girls.
Bound feet & feathered, high-heeled and horned,
They do the can-can to the salariman, kowtowed and scorned.
And when the customs officer asks if I’ve anything to declare,
I keep my mouth shut, so no one will mess with me.
I hem my pants the appropriate length, so there’ll be less chance
Of me tripping in the street or of tracking mud from my soiled cuff
Onto my neighbor’s rug, among other stuff, their pristine white sheets.
I knock on their door, once one has gone to work,
And I slip in, dip in, to my neighbor’s wet purse.
And when the customs officer asks if I’ve anything to declare,
I keep my mouth shut, so no one will mess with me.
The safety behind bars and in motorcycle sidecars keeps me
Asleep all night, deep alright, so I’m not frightened by the dark.
My ears tucked in my pillow, hear not the wind blow.
I’m a passenger, a prisoner. The will is not my own.
And when the customs officer asks if I’ve anything to declare,
I keep my mouth shut, so no one will mess with me.
Once I was enslaved to a human being.
What to do today now that I’m free?
Merry me, merry me, merry me,
is this how it feels to realize one’s dream?
Once I was enslaved to a human being,
my mother, my lover. Next who will it be?
Marry me, marry me, marry me.
I’m happiest in the pursuit of liberty.
Once I was enslaved to a human being,
one half the saint and the other the villain.
Marry me, marry me, marry me,
kiss the only hand there in emergency.
Marry me, marry me, marry me,
kiss the only hand there til’ eternity.
Once I was enslaved to a human being.
What to do today now that I’m free?
Merry me, merry me, merry me,
is this how it feels to realize my dreams?
Can I? I think I can. I can I think, think I can—
Fight to defend and survive, no more yielding
Helpless hopeless to the weight of time.
Can I? I think I can. I can I think, think I can;;
Take my raging bull by the horns and ride her
Cross barren plains and dark forests.
Somewhere between devotion and indifference,
Volatile daydreaming, waxing waning wallowing,
then wide-eyed, oh wide-eyed.
Can I? I think I can. I can I think, think I can.
Can I? I think I can. I cannot think, cannot think.
In other people’s opinions, I swell or shrink.
On other people’s opinion, I swim or sink.
Can I? I think I can. I cannot think, cannot think, cannot think.
Grandma, hold my hand now.
These steps are steep and uneven even.
My little legs are a-trembling,
Working so hard to keep up, keep up
With everyone walking so fast,
Leaving us two behind behind.
Pull me ‘round the block in the wagon,
Pull me as fast, as fast as you can.
Feed me all the things you’ve been hiding
From Uncle Art in his upstairs bedroom.
Where are the trays that fold out,
So we can eat watching television?
Grandma, hold my hand now.
These steps are steep and uneven even.
Your little legs are a-trembling,
Working so hard to keep up, keep up
With everyone walking so fast,
Leaving us two behind behind.
Can I? I think I can I?
I can I think, think I can.
Can I?
We drove out to the Long Island shore
With Bobo’s body on the backseat floor,
Parked the car and hauled her out to the waves to say our goodbyes.
Seven eight times she came rolling back—our shirtsleeves waterlogged,
Her fur just damp. We took her in our arms and with all our might
Flung her into the recessing tide and prayed, ninth time’s a charm.
Just then the sunset exploded from o’er the dunes where we stood frozen,
And from the brilliant shades of purple pink and orange,
We knew she would not return as a dog.
Our puppies go blind deaf an senile then die in our arms.
Seven eight waves of denial then ninth tide’s the charm.
Three white pages all covered with Braille,
the hand-woven lacework of a young bride’s veil,
lean up against this shooting gallery wall,
an anonymous letter for an autonomous fall.
I love you I miss you I need you
I walk out aimlessly through leaf-strewn streets,
Wonder why the elms have gone extinct,
Pass factory buildings, all brick and brawn,
Ghosts of a revolution come and gone,
And I stop at the bridge built between us.
Our lovers go blind deaf and senile, then die in our arms.
Seven eight waves of denial, then ninth tide’s the charm.
Amnesia we’ve fallen and gotten up
To feel the hole where there once was love.
Amnesia we’ve fallen and gotten up
To feel the freedom of an empty cup.
Our puppy loves go blind deaf and senile, then die in our arms.
Seven eight waves of denial, then ninth tide’s the charm.
Amnesia we’ve fallen and gotten up
To see the beauty of a setting sun.
Like a knife come to slit my ties to the past,
to all the things which bind me to the grave, you came.
You came in the morning after a long night.
You came in the morning after a dark night.
I stared into the knife, to see if it would hurt me,
threaten my life, use me and desert me.
To a decision, I came.
I came in the morning after a long night.
I came in the morning after a dark night.
I took the knife, slid it under my belt,
was so surprised at the joy I felt
to come out of the mourning, I came.
I came out of the mourning after a long night.
I came out of the mourning after a dark night.
Like a knife come to slit our ties to the past,
to all the things which bind us to the grave, we came.
We came in the morning after a long night.
We came in the morning after a dark night.
When the tugboat tires of pulling someone else’s weight,
When the tugboat tires of giving all the credit away,
There’ll be silence in the factories,
Empty shelves and pantries,
Just you wait.
When the tugboat tires of sweating for minimum wages,
When the tugboat tires of swallowing its pride and rage,
There will be weeds by the million,
There will be hedges needing trimming,
There will be chamberpots overflowing,
There’ll be conglomerates undergoing
sudden change.
When the tugboat tires of pulling someone else’s weight,
When the tugboat tires of giving all the credit away,
There will be one less in the bed that night,
No one to undress you that night, just you wait,
‘til the tugboat tires.
There’s a battleship parked in the river,
reenacting open doors, open arms, then open fire.
There are mushroom clouds and machine-gunned copters
descending in the snap crackle pop fizzle of the fireworks
as they blast into the night air breathed in by
innumerable passengers screaming “We Are Number One.”
Independence Day, our freedom is won,
to choose our own way, when to go, what’s to come.
But with each tie we break, there is sacrifice.
How many lives will it take? How many loves just must die?
There’s a man I just met; he hasn’t kissed me yet.
He reminds me of someone else, only better.
But I’m made out of wax, so easy to impress.
Am I melting too fast, dripping into your lips?
Because all my heroes have turned human this year,
slinking ‘round pool tables, sinking into unfabled stupors,
whispering in the night air or into some girl’s hair:
“I Am Number One.”
There’s a battleship parked in the Charles River,
Shooting off fireworks that light up the world,
then fall in the water.
My love’s next to me, head full of the next century
and wondering whether there’ll be a wedding tomorrow.
And the secret smoke signals in the aftermath of gunpowder
seem the most significant indication of what’s to come.
Walking the tightrope, now no consequences.
Walking the tightrope, numb and defenseless.
I knocked on your door, and you answered quite quickly,
Said I could not come in, but we could walk around the garden together
Arm in arm, enjoying the weather, and inspecting the crops:
Greenbeans in profusion, long and straight,
burdening the vine like a weeping willow;
ripe red tomatoes, soft and sweet,
perched upon their furry stalk, begging you to pluck;
crisp cucumbers, proud bellpeppers
radiating eighteen shades of life.
Life, life, life, life, life, life, life, life flies.
One green plastic basket of extra large, extra sweet, extra well-fed strawberries.
We ate them one by one, ‘til there was just one left, the largest, sweetest, extra fancy.
Then we alternated bite by bite, ‘til it was all gone. Then it was all gone.
Walking the tightrope, now no consequences.
Walking the tightrope, numb and defenseless.
Can you spare any change for me tonight?
I need something to eat, somewhere to sleep tonight.
I need something to hold, something to hold me tonight.
I need someone to love, someone to love me tonight.
Life, life, life, life, life, life, life, life flies.
Life, time, life, time, life, time, lifetime flies
Walking the tightrope.
Jackals hide behind handsome faces.
Dr. Jekyl & Mr. Hyde remind me, remind me.
In a bedroom of a brick and stucco house,
A girl in seersucker pants reached for a book
To pass the day away.
Not yet knowing the proper way to read, the girl
Took the tales as fact and cried all afternoon.
After dinner and after her daily bath,
Clean-skinned & damp-haired, she lay down to bed
As the light went out.
Under an Amish quilt and inside her flannel pajamas,
The girl wrestled with troubled thoughts,
Troubled sleep, troubled dreams.
The elevator opens
On a white frost-bitten world.
I step out, and the doors slide closed,
Leaving me alone
With the only one
Who could hurt me.
Jackals hide behind handsome faces.
Dr. Jekyl & Mr. Hyde remind me, remind me.
Old Giapetto sold all his winter clothes
To buy books for his wooden son who lied, lied through his nose.
And when the circus wagon came rollin’ through the town,
The boy jumped aboard and left, not even a note.
In desperation over this disappearance, the old man
With his arthritic hands tore down his house, plank by plank,
And carried each one by one, down to the harbour,
Trading his shoes for some nails and a hammer to build,
To build himself a boat.
(chorus)
1982 Mercedes blue and the rumbling sputter
of a diesel engine, and the gooseflesh returns.
Isn’t it a pity, isn’t it a shame we can’t see ourselves
Inside this moving sedan; the windshield’s too busy to reflect.
But the outside looks lovely and oh so tempting.
The light on the smokestacks & watertowers beckons to me.
So hello, my newfound friend Disaster,
Come sit down at our roundtable, let us ask your advice:
Should we bring on the accident?
While I wait for my lover to come,
I while away the bitter boredom,
But I won’t fall asleep
Until me lover comes.
I waste away in the bathtub,
But I won’t get out
Until my lover comes.
While I wait for my lover to come,
The demon calls to measure my love,
But I won’t aswer the door
Until me lover comes.
Save me, my darling, my sweetthing.
Baptize me clean,
And I’ll be yours
Forever more.
He danced on his deathbed
and so performed his final dance
for friends, family, and lovers,
and all those who’d had the chance
to know him, to love him.
My domesticated body
and my mind by moderation tamed
seethe within my xerox-copied skin,
and I ask him: “Is all freedom dark?”
One thousand and one birds
take off in an instant,
flying-feeling-filling through the air,
and I ask them: “Is all freedom light?”
He danced on his deathbed
and so performed his final dance
for friends, family, and lovers,
and all those who’d had the chance
to know him, to love him.
I try to remember your room.
There were three doors leading to bathroom, closet, living room.
And there were two windows, with their blinds always drawn
To keep out other people’s eyes and the harsh summer sunlight,
As you sat on your downy white bed.
I try to remember your room.
Cinderblocks bookshelves laden with pretty picture books to look at
As I sat on your downy white bed,
learning about people, times, and places I’d probably never know.
I try to remember your room.
Three big drawings on thick white paper
that would billow with the summer breeze
over our heads as we sat on your downy white bed,
looking at children’s drawings, convict watercolors, and eventually
the three paintings that I made thee.
We saw a movie. We saw a waterfall.
We saw an ocean. We saw lots of baseball.
We saw a movie, “Jesus of Montreal.”
We saw a gypsy at a carnival.
Close the curtains—
Let’s stay home afterall.
Sunday afternoon.
It’s a sunny day in my living room.
I’ve got the greys, and I’ve got the blues
Of Sunday afternoons.
We saw a movie shot in Paris, France.
We felt groovy, fell into a trance.
Close the curtains,
While we still have the chance.
(chorus)
We saw a movie. We saw a starry sky.
We saw each other by candlelight.
Close the curtain—
Let’s stay home tonight.
I’ve got a gun & a pocket full of bullets. I’m gonna shoot you down.
You’ve got a gun & a pocket full of bullets. You’re gonna shoot me down.
I’ve got a gun & a pocket full of bullets. I’m gonna shoot you down.
You’ve got a gun & a pocket full of bullets. And you’re gonna shoot me down.
And then we’ll both be too dead to make love in the living room.
And then we’ll both be too dead to have fun making the baby boom.
And then we’ll both be too dead to see freedom coming over the mountain.
And then we’ll both be too dead to kiss & make up at our homecoming.
Life’s not elegant, Mum, whatever your calling is.
Life’s not elegant, Mum, whatever you’re calling it.
I’m changing the face of warfare.
I’m changing the face of warfare.
You’re getting sleepy now.
Your eyes, they close no matter how
Hard you try to overpower
My powers.
Break all my bones. I’ll learn to walk again.
Break all my bones. I’ll learn to dance again.
Here comes the springtime. April rain bring May blooms.
Here comes the time change: green lawns and long afternoons.
Wipe off all my charms. I’ll learn to fly again.
Wipe off all my charms. I’ll learn to breather underwater again.
Here comes the springtime, daffodils in Easter hats.
Here comes the time change: spring forward, no more falling back.
Laugh at all my dreams. I’ll learn to see again.
Laugh at all my dreams. I’ll learn to hope and to try again.
Here comes the springtime. Bare branches give birth to leaves.
Here comes the timechange, holding a new hand, grateful for the breeze.
Still my swollen lips. I’ll learn to speak again.
Still my swollen lips. I’ll learn to sing again.
There is a strange wind in the air today.
Tree branches are budding and then blown away.
There is a strange wind in the air today.
Spiny pods are dropping and then drift away.
But they will be blown in the next millennium,
And I promise myself, I’m coming with them.
There is a strange wind in the air today.
My skirt lifts up. My hair’s astray.
There is a strange wind in the air today.
My little body’s born up, then thrown away.
But I will be born into the next millennium.
I jump aboard the ship of bored, lost children.
There is a strange wind in the air today.
I fill up my hot-air balloon and untie my stakes.
I will be blown into the next millennium.
I will be born into the next millennium.
Today’s not an age made for maidens,
But I am the age of a maiden:
Maiden eyes, maiden lips,
Maiden thighs, maiden hips,
Maiden nose. Maiden knows.
Today’s not an age shaped for shepherds,
But you are the age of a shepherd:
Shepherd hands, shepherd feet,
Shepherd glands, shepherd heartbeat,
Shepherd nose. Shepherd knows.
Today’s not an age partial to pastures,
But here we are in a pasture:
Past your eyes, passed my lips,
Past you thighs, passed my hips,
Past your nose. And the pasture knows.
Iam a river in the ocean, particles spread far and thin,
But I can still remember what I was then.
Now I am something greater, though less of what I was
The day that I discovered I was a river in the ocean.
I am a bird whistling in the dark, stuck in this cavernous mine.
When silence falls, you know it’s time to start running.
I am a bird that’s never seen much light, stuck in this cavernous ark.
Soon they’ll send me out to look for land,
And I’ll bring back a little bark.
I am a stroller in the park, wrapped ‘round this beautiful babe.
I and the dark-skinned woman pushing me are its slaves.
I am a stroller in the park, walking my flypaper skin
Through the balmy August air which sucks my body’s waters from within.
I am a river in the ocean, just a river in the ocean.
But I’m waiting for the rainstorm to take me back upstream.
And I’m waiting for the brainstorm to fill me back to the brim.
So bring on the lightning. This midnight orange sky grows frightening.
So bring on the lightning. Bring on the enlightening.
Break the water for me!
What’s the difference between nothing & everything?
What’s the difference between noone & everyone?
What’s the difference between nowhere and everywhere?
Everything, everyone, and everywhere.
But what’s the difference?
Graverobbers better stay away—
We’re laying daddy to rest today,
And it’s too soon for mamma to be dating
A young man like you.
Graverobbers better stay away—
We’re clearing out his closets today,
And it’s too soon to celebrate
With all those bills left unpaid.
Detective Sleuth
Destroyed the proof
To avoid the truth—
How daddy fell off the roof.
Graverobbers better stay away—
We’re laying the pharaoh to rest today,
And it’s too soon to excavate
When the stones are still freshly laid.
Graverobbers better stay away—
We’re embalming the body today,
And it’s too soon to investigate
The boobytraps she had made.
In Hatshepsut’s tomb,
Gold and gems were strewn
All over the rooms
Until your boys came through ‘em.
Gravediggers better stay away—
I’m not ready to die today,
And it’s too soon to anticipate
The time, the place, and the date.
Gravediggers better stay away—
I just got a glimpse of the light today,
And it’s too soon to revelate
When the path is still dim and gray.
I’ll need a minute.
I’ll need an hour,
To earn enough for the tickets
For me and my brother Howard.
I lose track of minutes.
I lose track of hours,
Planting my spinach and cauliflower in my backyard.
Not so long ago, I watched time spin around on my wrist,
But now time goes as slow or as fast as the fish pulling on my line.
Wildflowers grow, and I think they know
That their sons and daughters will appear here next year,
Once again—they’ll be here next year, once again.
I lose track of days.
I lose track of weeks,
Watering my potatoes and my leeks from the creek.
I watch the birds swoop down and catch
A fish or a worm as they wait for their eggs to hatch—to hatch.
The redwoods grow so slow you never know,
But then rings can tell us things we’d never know—never know.
Oh yeah, rings tell you things you’d never know.
I lose track of months.
I lose track of years,
Harvesting my turnips and oiling my gardening shears.
There’s no time for love today—
Too many things from above in the way.
But I could have sworn
That this was worth more
Than a moon rock planted on the moon.
No more tears in my ears, lying awake.
Nor more fears, restless years of heartache.
But I could have sworn that this was worth more
That a sigh amidst the tornado.
But there’s no time for love tonight—
One last hug and kiss goodnight.
Let’s stoke the fire with our fingers,
Hands glowing hot, burning red.
Let’s throw another limb upon it
And lay ourselves down to bed.
Demon smoke pours from a fire,
Feathers through a room—
Wild contortions, sprouting beanstalks,
Fruit born on the loom.
Brooms start dancing Latin tangos,
Dragging spoons along
To play the man to dip the lady
Into the fire’s arms.
We scorch our hair and char our teeth,
Run round bald and sooted.
Our clothes to ashes will be turned,
Our bodies nude and barefooted.
The air is thick with shirttails past—
Gray clouds rising from skin,
Encircling bums and breasts and elbows,
Sizzling a serpentine grin.
We cry in joy and laugh in pain,
A chimney to ascend.
All tears are dried in heaps of carbon,
Dissolving all bookends.
Drove deep into the redwoods
And found a drive-in movie screen
And an owl to take the ticket
Lying in the passenger seat.
I parked the car at the center of the clearing,
Rolled down the window to catch the breeze.
I parked the car at the center of the clearing,
Rolled back the seat to get a look at the screen.
The blue moon rose up behind me,
Casting the shadows on the trees,
Like men and mothers and children
On the drive-in movie screen.
I saw in the car, sat and watched
And listened to the wolves howl at the moon.
I saw in the car, sat and watched
And listened to the wind howling voices.
The figures blurred and faded
As the moon rose up above me,
And I peered around at the forest,
Accomplice to this movie.
I got out of the car with the moon at high noon,
Laid down in the dirt, face towards the light.
Staring into the projection booth,
I saw traces of a face like mine,
In the mountain and valleys, dry lakes and craters
Of a stone cold satellite.
Got back in the car, drove it away—
Back to a bright city and a warm bed.
Got back in the car, drove it away—
Headlights to spy on the trees.
Fall asleep, my little dove.
Count your sheep as I fall in love.
All I feel is your touch.
All I want is your love.
Fall asleep, my only one.
Dream of me and what’s to come.
All I fell is your touch.
All I want is your love.
Like a wrecking ball, you tore down my walls.
Like a choo-choo train, you tunneled through my brain.
Like a bulldozer, you gave me full exposure.
Like dynamite, you tore me up all night.
Like a wrecking ball, like dynamite,
You tore down my walls,
You tore me up all night.
Give me your heart in a tin cup,
‘cause gold won’t mean much
to true love—true love.
Give me your heart in silence,
‘cause words might confine us,
true love—true love.
Give me your heart in confidence,
‘cause life’s nothing but impermanence,
true love—true love.
The hills are on fire, my friend.
Where can we go
To escape the dire consequence
Of letting this go?
The hills are on fire, my friend.
Where can we go
To admire, as night descends,
The hills’ burning glow?
We’ll carve a path of flames through the brush.
The wind’s at our backs, so there’s no need to rush,
Not so much.
The hills are on fire, my friend.
They’re burning low,
‘cause the hills have grown tired, my friend,
of lying fallow.
We’ll carve a path of flames through the brush.
The wind’s at our backs, so there’s no need to rush.
We’ll care a path of flames through the brush,
A casual laugh = I want you so much, so much.
Nightblooming jasmine, nightblooming jasmine
Seeps through the crack in your window glass.
Nightblooming jasmine, nightblooming jasmine—
Open your door, step out onto the porch.
“Nightblooming jasmine, nightblooming jasmine,
I’ll let you in, if you promise me one thing.
I’ll let you in, if you’ll be here in the morning.”
Nightblooming jasmine, nightblooming jasmine
Vanishes with the sunrise. You never notice
until you open your eyes.
The woman who drank poison
To keep her body frail,
The woman who drank poison
To keep her skin very pale—
She knew the night so much more intimately than I.
The woman who drank poison
To know a harder life,
The woman who drank poison
To know a better life—
She knew herself more than I know myself.
The woman who drank poison
To feel less at odds with death,
The woman who drank poison
To feel more in control of her life—
She understood more than I understand.
Two ends of a tunnel meet in total darkness.
Will you plan to meet me there?
Noontime tomorrow, I’ll be making my way
Out of the sun, towards the darkness and towards you.
There’s a darker in the darkness.
Is that your silhouette?
Or is it me casting a shadow on the ground?
I call out your name towards the darker in the darkness:
“Is that you come to meet me here?”
Two ends of a tunnel meet in total darkness.
Will you plan to meet me there?
If I were a kangaroo,
I’d wanna carry you in my pocket.
If I were a koala bear,
I’d wanna always have you there in my pocket.
Would you be my baby?
If I were a chimpanzee,
I’d take you out dancing in my jungle.
If I were an orangutan,
I’d want you to come and hang around my jungle.
Would you be my monkey?
If I were a nightingale,
My songs would float like a trail behind you.
If I were an albatross,
There’d be no see or ocean I wouldn’t cross to find you.
Would you be my birdie?
If I were your next door neighbor,
I’d provide anonymous favors everyday.
If I were just a casual acquaintance,
I’d renew my vow of determined patience everyday.
Could I be your baby?
Could I be your birdie?
Could I be your monkey?
And would you be my baby?
Let’s set sail in our little ship.
Let’s discover a continent for just you and me.
We’ll pack the ship full of things good to eat, fishing rods and wine to drink.
We’ll while away the evening hours, lounging round this ship of ours.
Let’s set sail in our little ship.
Let’s discover a continent for just you and me.
The first one to set eyes on land will take the other by the hand,
And pointing to the horizon, the one will say: “Our journey’s almost done.”
Let’s set sail in our little ship.
Let’s discover a continent for just you and me.
Stacking logs and thatching a roof, making sure it’s all weatherproof.
The freshest water and the richest soil, side by side through a hard day’s toil.
Let’s set sail in our little ship.
Let’s discover a continent for just you and me.
Seasons come and seasons go—my belly waxing to and fro.
The suckling ones grow bigger then they build their own house around the bend.
Cornmeal mush is all you took for 30,000 miles on foot.
Come inside, stay a while. I’ll fix you things to eat.
I’ll offer you some clothes too loose, a soft bed and someone else’s shoes.
Come inside, stay a while, rest your tired feet.
Haunted by a recurring dream
Of the girl you left hanging from an apple tree,
Johnny Appleseed wanders the countryside,
Keeping to his task to keep out the rest.
Johnny Appleseed, right fresh from heaven sighed:
“Please, let me make it up to strangers.
In Ohio, all the farmers wives thanked you with fresh apple pies
And hurried to mend the tears in your pants.
Dumbfounded by their kindness and embarrassed by your shyness,
You slipped out the backdoor at the first chance.
(chorus)
The famished cow you rescued from the wealthy rotten Farmer John
Offered, in gratitude, to turn itself to gold.
But you declined the offer, saying: “That was not for profit,”
And ushered the straggler back into her fold.
(chorus)
No no no, I know—
You owe me nothing
No no no, I know—
I’m not your job.
No no no, I know—
We should just walk away.
We both know we know
It’s hard.
Autumn comes to a seaside town
A little later than the rest.
The leaves hold on a little longer than they
Would have out west.
No no no, I know—
You owe me nothing
No no no, I know—
I’m not your job.
No no no, I know—
We should just walk away.
We both know we know
It’s hard.
The leaves let go,
So let them go.
The leaves let go,
So let them.
88 Ways
Age
Age of Reason
Amnesia
Amor
Autumn
Big Bad Wolf & Black Widow Spider
Blue Moon
Bound Feet & Feathered
Can I?
Can I Borrow You?
Casa Nova
Courting
Deep at Sea
Digging
Digital
Esperar Es Caro
I’ve Got a Gun
Growing Pains
Hijikata
Hijikata Tatsumi
Hills on Fire
I Gave You My Home
In the End
Independence Day
Jackals
Johnny Appleseed
Kokoro
The Last Night of Winter
Like A Knife
Luna Lune
Merry Me
Muscle, Bone & Blood
My Room is White
Night of a 1000 Kisses
Nightblooming Trilogy
Obsession
Old World New World
Planting Time
Poppy Fields
River of Life / The Yes Song
The River & the Ocean
Save Me
Set Sail
Sleepless Nights
Spring
Stoke the Fire
Strange Wind
Strawberries
Sunday Afternoon
Tongue-tied
True Love
Tugboat
The Way
What if we do?
Your Room
Ziggurat