dyke mic 2.0
i rocked it. but i can do so much better.
last night was good. i was high on a lot of different levels. people came out to support me, and it blew me away that they would. it's not the bar, it's not free and it's not close, and it was just me. it wasn't me and some amazing group of musicians. how did i get here?
then afterwards, good conversation, good booze, good adventure and coffee and people and just when i'm about to go off the edge, i'm miraculously saved by good people. i'm not making a lot of sense at this particular minute, so um... here.
the wind has been bruising my lips all day,
gusts like abusive kisses
hit hard and left stinging
they lick their wounds and press on
Day to Day they mouth
the mantra of those who know the future
who see so far ahead
they know,
they know
they know that nothing goes as planned
My mouth is abstaining
it is practicing some self-abusive ritual of deprivation
perpetuating it's desire for things out of reach
Don't take any if you can't have it all
the mantra of those who hold out for more
who keep the faith
they know
they know
they know that it doesn't usually happen
My lips hold down the fort, coordinating my face like a well-run traffic system
trying to smooth over the chasm behind my lips
There's a creature in that labyrinth
it thrashes and writhes and it's echoes carry on for miles in my chest cavity
it's hungry, starving really
so when I cave and place an almond on the cracked and swollen altar of my lips it shouts
Not Enough.
the mantra of those who cannot be sated
they know that this is not enough,
they know that this will not satisfy or sustain
they know that this is not the salt my mouth has been craving
we eat to survive but let it be known that our desires lay elsewhere.
last night was good. i was high on a lot of different levels. people came out to support me, and it blew me away that they would. it's not the bar, it's not free and it's not close, and it was just me. it wasn't me and some amazing group of musicians. how did i get here?
then afterwards, good conversation, good booze, good adventure and coffee and people and just when i'm about to go off the edge, i'm miraculously saved by good people. i'm not making a lot of sense at this particular minute, so um... here.
the wind has been bruising my lips all day,
gusts like abusive kisses
hit hard and left stinging
they lick their wounds and press on
Day to Day they mouth
the mantra of those who know the future
who see so far ahead
they know,
they know
they know that nothing goes as planned
My mouth is abstaining
it is practicing some self-abusive ritual of deprivation
perpetuating it's desire for things out of reach
Don't take any if you can't have it all
the mantra of those who hold out for more
who keep the faith
they know
they know
they know that it doesn't usually happen
My lips hold down the fort, coordinating my face like a well-run traffic system
trying to smooth over the chasm behind my lips
There's a creature in that labyrinth
it thrashes and writhes and it's echoes carry on for miles in my chest cavity
it's hungry, starving really
so when I cave and place an almond on the cracked and swollen altar of my lips it shouts
Not Enough.
the mantra of those who cannot be sated
they know that this is not enough,
they know that this will not satisfy or sustain
they know that this is not the salt my mouth has been craving
we eat to survive but let it be known that our desires lay elsewhere.