music God

Oh God you must be the nearest thing to music,
Or music is most like You,
For nothing else makes me feel so small;
Overshadows my every mood.

And nothing makes me feel so deep
In wordless, piercing groans.
Nothing makes me feel so lost
In universal tones.

I see how the world shakes
Off-beat like a tambourine,
Refusing hope to your face,
Making a scene.

Still it sings and sings,
Full-throated, heart expanded;
All the sighs of the day
Meet in the air, empty handed.

This cosmic sensation overwhelms my core.
It peels back my flesh and I'm left wanting more.
I want to sing You, You are a song.
I sing and discover my home; I belong.

wonderland

I wish, I wish I didn't fall like Alice down the rabbit hole
To feed my curiosity in lusty unreality.

Fantastic play the idols of my dream.
In hungry stupor they make me queen.
They blow my heart like heated glass
And fashion it to please their mass.
But it shatters to pieces like ashes at sea
To a dirge of self-discovery.
Oh let me fall! Oh let me fall! I'll live and die in gravity.
The patterns of my colored mind sustain my illusions, let them be.

Still it's lonely here inside my fears; what ghostly company!
How lost I feel floating down these halls wondering if you'll come to me.
Your songs reach me in this hollow cave, they echo sweet and shrill.
They lie to me--heart in my mouth--appease my naked will.


Oh I wish, I wish I didn't fall
And lose myself inside this dream
For all their grandeur and their spark
Our dreams are never what they seem.
Oh I wish, I wish I didn't fall
Full bloody soul into your hand!
For all my visions bold and fine,
I do not like this wonderland.

to the scarborough buskers *

You fiddle dancers, happy chancers,
Tune your way into my dreams!
Uproarious sound bombards my senses,
Unraveling my tight-stitched seams.

And I was just a passerby, and
Smooth the day dressed as the night
Deceiving me with sticks and strings;
Street-corner wings in sudden flight.

What could I see on the street that day,
Feet tapping to cement and clay?
What could I fear in merry chimes
That moved your whiskey blood to climb?

You bellow with Brittanic sea
And flooding southern melody,
Distract me from a day gone wrong,
Envelope me in zydefolk song.