I drew two thick lines
Down the center of my face
To show everyone
Just where I cracked
The day the sky fell
Exposing the gaping black hole
Sucking my dear daylight
I like the silence of closed eyes
In spite roaring flickering lights
And devilish heavy breathing
That’s slowly circling around my ankles
Encrusting scars that stretch towards
Silent darkness I dare not tread on.
No, my silence is juxtaposed with illusions:
Of dancing lovers who call themselves friends,
Of scowling friends who want nothing more
Then to make love all night to my soul.
My silence kisses me softly
When all around roars deafening
In giant gulps of thunder and lightening,
And my eyes they burn with midnight candles
And leave forever lines across my forgotten soul.
Imagine my surprise
When I came to see your eyes;
In front of me,
So wild and free
And carelessly wandering about
My heart would forever dream could see.
For decidedly my time
Would wash my deepest thoughts
From holding me inward,
To let forever be free,
To let unanswered be me,
For my soft rabbit’s foot luck
Rested in the eyes
Set upon the brown moon of my heart
Traced in hands I reached out to be.
I am lost.
I am scraping little lines
That have never been enscribed,
To make innocence
Fear what is left far behind.
I enlist savory moments
To stay for the show,
Letting hair down
In long shadows of denial.
But in spite my madness,
My carrying on as such and forth,
I am lost again;
Awoken by first frost.
Our pack of lambs had started with one ram and three ewes. Tim and Casey had mentioned they were interested in starting a herd and our land was perfect for having them graze.
The only problem we anticipated were the wolves, coyotes, and natives. I had taught Tim everything I knew about a gun, and my long barrel was always oiled.
We pooled our money from a few rabbit, beaver, bear, and wild cat pelts we had trapped on our lines over the year and the following spring I brought the four sheep home from Missoula along with the seeds for the years plant.
That was three years ago now.
I remember holding the first baby lamb in my hands the following spring and realizing that this is what starting a family was like. Something I had only a glimpse of when I was married.
I thought of how timid those first three lambs were as I would accustom them to me as I watched the wolves enjoy the summer blood soaked sun.
[note: to read the full epic track my land]
I want to stand with my old eyes
Facing the wind
Because I know distance
Shed after lonely nights,
Long long slow lines
From symphonies choir,
And my lovers second name
Echoing through my mind.
My old eyes decide.
My old eyes decide.
My old eyes decide
That I’m to have no shame,
And long night remains the same.
For how long?
For how long.
To which the choir stepped up
And out with my saving grace.
But all still remains,
And the wind blows my name.
Lines have been written down the back of my neck
Ancient scrolls, unintelligible
In a language spoken when men and women
Lived together in deep respect and love
My throat has begun to burn
The ink has started to bleed
Where once was smooth innocence
Crawling with anticipation of the turning times
Return to a fantasia built upon sorcery
Filled with myth so blood-soaked and deep
Memories flood the virgin landscape
And the Oracle speaks once again