transmissions

2012
Transmissions
from the Grand Strand

We foot it to your parents’ school,
where he carried books for her
I’ve seen you in all my dreams.
A journey through a telescope,
through our “Oh, Converted World,”
It’s singular when we leave.

Oh me,
I couldn’t have been in truth
I couldn’t be loving you, and losing me.
The fall leaves,
The winter never starts, the sum of all our parts
Are quarters for the home arcade.

We fell into a pattern etched by hands
we’d never see
A dance in the hallway glow.
A victory of the saddest kind, of aesthetic over being
There’s fortune in all, you know.

Oh me,
It couldn’t be loving you
Conflicting with the truth, all out of key.
We all see,
The cardinal handing down,
instructions from the crown
To keep the people out of love.

Our love is just an enemy.
To the plain words no one cares to see.
Our love is just a melody.
A fleeting, lovely melody.
I could only love a melody.
A disenchanted melody.

We foot it to your parent’s school,
where he carried books for her.

You’ll never know me,
but your eyes seem to control me.
You’ll fill the vacancy, in an unsuspecting heart.
You’re lips deceive you,
but your mind’s there to receive you.
It caught them leaking clues,
that you’re into how it starts.
You’ve shown me your land,
all that’s left to do honey, is show me in.
Then the film begins, we’re rolling, on the bascarts.

I shake, shake, sure we’re not pretend.
Your lips purse, never fazed,
like soldiers at the mint.
At 24 I vowed it’d never come to this.
But it’s so far cross the table to you,
was I think it through,
When I blacked the formerees?
They all had to leave…Oh, oh, oh.

It’s all imagined, by the greatest of minds,
who’s thought everything.
She waits on coastal plains,
and I’ve never heard her sound.
Transcontinental, where we sleep through the days, and Dream So Real.
Love failed us once or twice,
but we never put it down.
She’s unimagined, is she fair, is she brown,
a cardinal sittin’.
On the wire, where the love begins,
she could be ready to be found.

I shake, shake, sure we’re near the end.
The market square fills in, prepare for the ascend.
My brother’s birthday, further evidence.
That we’ve five years now the newsman is right,
The perennial flight, when we laughed
and kicked and screamed,
We all have to leave!

And I’ve always known that it’s you,
Who won’t keep the time for anyone.
You’ve a permanent view,
And you’d love to save the day.

And it may be far less than fair,
To ask all your time of everyone.
But you don’t seem to care,
You’re in love with me, you say.

I’d gladly trade your love in for her ghost,
Did she head for the coast?
There’s no telling, her postcards come slow.
And gravity holds down the ones
who gave your name,
And their vault full of rain.
Send it upward and fill the Biscayne.

You’re connected to the old.
She was newer than you, in the morning
she woke in the cold.

I dug her ‘til her shallow grave filled in,
It made Biblical sense.
Love each other, possessions are thin.
“The medicine’s advanced, but not divine.”
You so classily whined.
Without pain, there can be no sublime.

You’re connected to the old.
She was newer than you, sans the desert
you walked in the cold.

You packed it up on a metro bus,
and took it all the way.
The sun explodes in a burst of a darkness
that they dreamt up one day.
It forces us out to a sea full of cyclists,
pedals on delay.
If we wait then we die, like old maids in apartments,
a hand that’s never played!
I’m not built for decay.

You’re connected to the old.
She was newer than you, in the morning
you woke in the cold.
We can’t just end up cold.
Your vacation in life comes complete
with the ones that you love.

You must’ve started on the railway to pretend.
Our early sprinter,
My friend, arabian thoroughbred.
The fastest of all of them.

Whod’ve guessed an ending lovelier than yours?
Afternoon on a Sunday,
Sunbirds, carried away with them.
The heartbeat of greater man.

Return to us again,
My wise and oldest friend.
If the world is keeping score,
Next time you’ll be given more.

You can read it in the prophet’s Monday picks.
Never know for certain,
What gives, a rider the chance to stay.
In circles, and way ahead.

On the road you must’ve savored every bump.
As you flew to the next one,
You jumped, a twenty-foot canyon.
And left us imaginin’,

What your tomorrow brings.
What you hear when we sing.
If the world becomes a bore,
Give thanks you’ve been given more.

Come hang with us again,
My wise and oldest friend.
If the world is keeping score,
Next time you’ll be given more.

Instrumental

Lord knows I used to be a bad dude,
Still trawling when I met you, and acting the fool.
I’ve grown older without growing,
Enlightened, never knowing, a future with you.

Time takes forever when you’re waiting,
For her to run to you, and finally stand.
Your eyes have never seen my winter,
My splintered heart stuck in your trembling hand.

My mind is not inventing dreams,
My friends exactly as they seem.
In time, we’ll all be in the sea,
So why would I wait for you,
when you no longer love me?

You spent your graduating hours,
With someone “from the past, so long ago.”
Your voice, an old familiar songbird,
That flew in from the past, so long ago.

You wed on Dia de los Muertos,
Appropriate for you who’ll never die.
The hope was you would live forever,
And never have to stare into my eyes.

My mind has stopped inventing dreams,
No flying, or unequipped to scream.
I dug, the remnants of the scene,
But a death, or a dearth of depth,
made it high time for leaving.

That’s quite the coronation! They sing ‘til their blue.
All the birds of a nation,
have made a flight plan for you.

You could leave life as a phantom of your youth.
You could use more of your mind,
Up in County, doin’ time.
But the walls would surely mock you.

“You should never rest your fate on old news.”
Something both your fathers should have told you.

With just weekends,
you were weakened by the week.
Wandering rec parks on your own,
Nothing waiting, nothing home.
Save the walls that always haunt you.

“They will know. They will see me running away.
After all, that’s their mish today.
They will spin the records, skulk the ave.
Call on every friend, you’ve ever had.
You’re a robber if you put a tap on me!”

Let’s go. Let’s see them seeing us here.
Our home, is the new frontier.
Where we give a hand to tyrants, but,
We bide our time that never comes.
They are transatlantic in their cause they can.

Nine years ago, today.
A vision came my way.
She set my heart ablaze,
But I was so cold.

We took the perfect trips,
I kissed her on the green.
In spite of all I’d seen,
I acted so old.

With unwell mind,
I bid farewell to someone more than hard to find.
She can’t be lost, she lives between
the earth and sky.
Demanding reasons why.

I hear her voice again,
Same timbre, tanner skin.
It travels here from God knows when,
And brings back.

A long-forgotten heart,
To which I brought the darkest dark.
We reconvened and blew apart,
In months flat.

We holed it up,
In haunted bedrooms, spirits stole
the breath from us.
The unfed plants grew eerily
fast toward sunless skies.
At wake up time we realized, the love we’d found,
Was buried in the ground.

Instrumental

Through fog and rain,
I walked for days.
In a sheep skin coat,
I found in the woods.

In search of fellow countrymen,
with anecdote or song,
Of how it all went wrong.

We screamed within,
While the ox-y-gen,
Was delayed and sold,
To the tired and old.

We bit our lips and kept our teeth inside
with all our words,
Each one should have been heard.

So watch the planes, the lines they make,
The time it takes, for trails to fade.
Watch the tapes, from this, our darkest day,
The camera shakes, then steel gives way,
And the audio’s obvious!

So never mind your country, man,
The world’s a single file,
Zipped up and in the Nile.

Love your fellow countrymen,
Forgive them while you may,
The sun only shines today.

You gave into the throne,
You gave up in your home,
You gave it all in peace time,
Now all we have’s the meantime.

You traded in your love,
For things that you can touch,
Only something in the meantime,
And it’s killing all your meantime.

All turns to green,
A Bath Club so serene,
Or so it seems.
But ten percent is lean,
So love all your meantime!
Love all your meantime!

You play an easy part,
Civilian Urban Guard!
But does it feel like peacetime,
When you look inside your heart?

Your direction is your own,
You will meet Him or you won’t.
He’s hard to see in peacetime,
So love Him in the meantime.

All turns to cream,
And honey when we leave,
They’d have us believe.
But all birds and bees,
Need their ticks and fleas,
So love all your meantime!
Love all your meantime!

All brothers we! (And sisters too!)
We’re both of them,
Or from one tree.
And time couldn’t mean,
As much as we think it does,
As much as it means to love.