With abandonment and love...

Close again after breaking the silence… We did it the hardest way, before your words came out, before our hearts burst open in the night. My eyes are still wet, but the stone is gone from my chest. And tonight I’ll sleep peacefully again. Thank you for so much, in so many little ways…

I wish I was a fisherman

tumbling on the sea
far away from dry land
and its bitter memories
casting out my sweet line
with abandonment and love
no ceiling bearing down on me
save the starry sky above
with Light in my head
and you in my arms

I wish I was the brakeman
on a hurtling, fevered train
crashing headlong into the heartland
like a cannon in the rain
with the beating of the sleepers
and the burning of the coal
counting the towns flashing by
in a night that's full of soul
with Light in my head
and you in my arms

I know I will be loosened
from the bonds that hold me fast
that the chains all hung around me
will fall away at last
and on that fine and fateful day
I will take me in my hands
I will ride on the train
I will be the fisherman
with Light in my head
and you in my arms

- Mike Scott

Into starlight.

I'm sorry...

I said I’m sorry and I held you close, held you as strongly as I can. Said I was sorry as much as I can and you said it’s alright. Even after this, your eyes show me the pain I caused you; your silence hangs round my neck like a chain. Even after this, your silence disturbs me. But I can’t demand anything more from you, not after looking deep into your eyes like tonight. Only time can bring everything back to normal. For now I shall sleep with your eyes on my mind. I’m sorry…

Into starlight.

A change is gonna come...?

Sunny day outside, in here things are not so bright. Everyone around me seems to be in similar moods, but angrier. Does this mean I’m handling my mood better than the rest, or just that I’ve given myself in? I’d surely like to believe the first option. The ‘collateral damage’ goes on, and I’m at a loss for words. If at least I could explain or react in any way… But I just seem to grow numb against my will. Will you forgive me? Will I stop before it gets too late? I’m scared. Scared of hurting you, scared of losing you, scared that this dark mood will scare you away despite all the rest. I’m silent, but my hands are reaching for you. Please…

On a lighter note, got some new gear today, a tambourine and new sets of brushes. Played for a little while this afternoon, it was good keeping my head busy and away from the rest. Tambourine works fine, and spent some time with the brushes trying to understand their feel. It’s a whole new range of sounds, great for the more acoustic direction we’re treading now. After years of playing full-blast it’s interesting to face new and unexpected challenges, facing completely different approaches to playing. I hope I’m up to it. One thing is for sure, feel really motivated. It’s not just the new directions in terms of playing, it’s also the concept we’re trying now. Of all the projects I have been in, this is what feels closer to what I’ve had in my mind for years, not only in musical terms, but in terms of commitment, energy and seriousness. A change is gonna come…?

Into twilight.

First Words

First words into the "blogosphere"... A sombre day for starting. Been restless all day, I've gone from moody to joyful and back to the dark side. Night and silence bring some comfort, but how much it may be, it's clearly not enough. I seek refuge within myself and seem to find no comfortable spot. And tomorrow may be completely different. Why? I don't know. I'll go bouncing back to joy like a toy in a child's hands. Is it me? Is it the world? Both? I don't know, honestly, don't know...
The worst part is not realizing how much 'collateral damage' you do, especially to those who love you, until it's too late. And when tears slide down all too familiar cheeks, unexpectedly, you repent... Or at least you try to repent, until you realize you don't know what to repent of... That is the hardest part. A black circle.

Unexpected comfort: have been reading "The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over The Hills", superb, surprising, defying poetry by Charles Bukowski. Stumbled upon this gem among its pages last night:

these things

these things that we support most well
have nothing to do with up,
and we do with them
out of boredom or fear or money
or cracked intelligence;
our circle and our candle of light
being small,
so small we cannot bear it,
we heave out with Idea
and lose the Center:
all wax without the wick,
and we see names that once meant
wisdom,
like signs into ghost towns,
and only the graves are real.

- Charles Bukowski

Into starlight.