Get all 9 Mared Jurphy releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Be full of steadfast love, just as your Father is full of steadfast love., Oneirology Online, t̶̝̀h̸̗͝ê̸̻ ̶͉̀d̵̨͊ā̵̰r̵̢͌k̸̝͗ ̵͈̑i̷̱̋s̴̳̈́ ̷͔̀ä̶̝́ ̴̣̆ṣ̴̊ǫ̷͗f̵͎͐t̶̩͋,̴͚̏ ̷̫̿w̸̨̎ą̵͒ȓ̵͉m̸͇͛ ̶͙̎p̵͈̌r̷͈̕e̴̲͝s̴͎̀s̷̯̉u̷̪̒r̷͍̈́e̷̠͊., THE FOREST OF NOISE - OST, good morning, visitors!, On the Way Home, snare drum/contact mic improvisations 16 october 2019, deathcalls, and 1 more.
1. |
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cracks in the blinds
murky-black sky tries to call itself clear
the concrete bleeds inspiration dry
my mind's in a drought trying to live without
the cool water, tall trees, mountain air
in a dream i lost my teeth
i bequeath them all to you if you do this for me:
keep the special temporaries close and hold yourself to hope that all things wrong can be written or righted
i woke up and remembered that we're all still dying
the shifts in orbit towards some people and away from others
making new friends
trying to keep the old
i wanna keep the silver and the gold but
beggars can't be choosers and I'm running out of idioms
in a dream i lost my teeth
i bequeath them all to you on one condition:
say exactly what you mean because conversations aren't scenes that you can re-take if it comes out wrong the first time
i woke up and your smile was on my mind.
i don't want to grow old; i don't want to leave the people i love
i don't want to grow old; i don't want to leave.
asymmetrical lamp in the corner of the room is my best friend right now
we're hanging out by the window wishing that the dog across the street would stop yelling at us
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2. |
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She sits softly in the
corner, starving for solace, says
"I can
feel my youth running away from me"
age is a boring tragedy to befall us
She takes a
drag from her cigarette;
the smoke brings me peace.
"Why are you the type to smile at strangers?
And why don't you kill spiders?"
"Why are you looking
at me like that? Your
arms are crossed, eyes look
lost staring through me
Gimme one two three
four five seconds to
Breathe"
We walk through the woods
Pacing, finding grace
trails winding around perennial
plants the ground is cool
the sun is muffled
(We let the roots tell
their stories) I
take my pipe from my
pocket and fill it
with herb; the sweet smoke
finds my lungs again
and youth and death and
blood and breath
aren't here anymore
Misty morning grey
clouds and damp leaves the
Earth is waking up
She says "Why can't we
stay here? Won't the trees
miss us when we leave?
Who will the river run for?"
Twenty years and what
have I done with them?
Have I tried too hard
to capture moments
when I should have just
been there? What will my
memories be worth
when I'm in the ground
with the roots and the seeds?
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3. |
HEART, HARK!
08:26
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Try a deep breath, but feel your lungs trapped in rigid metal casing
Eyes closed, you see small bleeding triangles and wretched images your mind conjures to make you as miserable as possible
You know that all suffering is relative but
that doesn't stop the pathetic guilt.
Uprooted soul
Fingers fatigue, tired of grasping for damned lost joy
What was it like when things felt real?
Is this just how it goes now?
Endless great grey?
Heart, Hark!
Slow down.
Death called you up the other day.
Long distance.
Did he sound okay?
Yeah, mostly, but he had a cold.
We shot the breeze for awhile, then he said he was coming to pick me up soon.
I told him I changed the locks;
we laughed.
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4. |
to the zephyr/windscape
08:18
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(to the zephyr)
I want my room kept cold.
I will walk barefoot and the wooden floor will kiss my soles.
the breeze will bring the ghosts of the forest, who ice-enter through the window and hush-lounge against the
w a l l s,
and when I have trouble,
and when I have trouble,
and when I have trouble,
and when I have trouble
trying to decide if I deserve this time, this space,
an ancient chime will ring out from a distant place,
and it will tell me
That I have no choice
But to listen to the Earth, then use my voice.
my cold, cold voice.
I'm trying to be less afraid of Death.
I'm sure it will be cold and dark when he calls again.
Maybe the spirits can help.
I shiver-ask if they were halcyon-valiant when he came for them.
They replied with a zephyr:
"THE FINAL CARRIAGE OF YOUR CONSCIOUS SELF FROM HERE TO THERE WILL BE CHILLING, AND YOU WILL WANT TO ESCAPE IT, BUT YOU CANNOT. ALL YOU CAN DO IS GIVE YOURSELF COMPLETELY TO THE EARTH WHILE YOU ARE HERE. THE REST IS OUT OF YOUR HANDS."
My pulse is slow.
My voice still cold.
I give my thanks.
(windscape)
The world is falling apart
Tall trees are a rowdy silent mosh pit
The twisting pain in my heart
And an empty grey feeling make me wish that I could just go home
Walking down the sidewalk
I'm being guided by a phantom
I can't help but think that
If the wind wept a bit stronger now
It could usurp gravity
I am Autumn, I am Autumn, I am
every trembling leaf on every weeping branch, you are
You are the wind, you are the wind, you are
The force that brings me back to where I should begin
There's a little coffee left in the French press.
Do you want a cup?
I was thinking of heading to the store today,
Do you want to come?
It'll be packed with tourists but we'll have each other
I hope traffic's not too bad in town
It's so hot, I bet all the docks are full
I am the spring, I am the spring, I am
Every waking root at every flower's feet, you are
You are the wind, you are the wind, you are
The force that brings me back to where I should begin
I know nothing's ever as hard to do as it is when you're laying in bed and it's 3:00 AM and the neighbors won't shut off their lights and the dog across the street is still yelling and you can only ever think of everything you've done wrong and everything you know you'll probably fuck up and your mistakes creep into your head like unwelcome guests at a party that was never really fun in the first place
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5. |
i am very small.
03:51
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i am very small.
my skin is pale and
my hair is longer than it has ever been.
when he takes me into the next room,
i will not struggle.
i am very hopeful and very overwhelmed.
the light will likely blind me, and
i am very grateful.
i am very grateful.
the will light blind likely me, and
i am very grateful.
i am very apprehensive.
i am very calm.
my legs convulse under the weight.
i am completely still.
my legs are ripped from my body.
i am still complete.
i am completely very.
i am very still.
i am death.
i will call you on the telephone.
it will be very late, and we will joke about your very calm doorknob and your apprehensive locks.
i am rocking myself to sleep.
it is the middle of the day and
i am completely blind.
i am very content.
i wish it would end.
i'm very sure i can stay here forever.
i'm staring at a painting at the bottom of the ocean.
i'm staring at a painting.
i'm staring at a painting.
it is a painting of nothing.
nothing is a painting of a painting.
painting is a nothing staring at the bottom of the ocean.
i am the size of an atom of an atom.
i am the size of a universe.
a universe the size of adams atoms atom.
i am walking in a circle counterclockwise.
i haven't moved an inch.
inch.
inch.
inch.
haven't moved.
haven't an inch.
inch.
moved.
haven't moved an inch of an inch.
i am stopped counterclockwise of an inch of a circle counterwiseclock at the bottom of the universe of an ocean.
i am very grateful.
i despise what i am given.
there is snow on the ground.
my hair is long.
i will not struggle.
there is snow in my hair.
my hair is the ground.
my snow is pale longer than it has ever been.
i haven't moved.
i am removed.
i am brighter than a supernova.
i am pitch black.
black.
black.
black.
supernova black.
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6. |
grey sunday evening
04:26
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Grey Sunday evening
May someday leave me
I'll be on the back porch in a sweater and shorts
My pipe breathes wisps of smoke as
Wistful jokes circle overhead
Down the hill, the train glides along the river
The trees still whisper as we watch the moon climb to her perch amid the gathering stars
This moment is infinite, unmoving
A pirouette
thoughts bruising the skull
A silhouette
Jot down a few hazy phrases
The unruly gun pulls the trigger on itself
I don't belong anywhere
I don't belong
I don't belong
I think I went wrong somewhere
I think I went wrong
I think I went wrong
But it doesn't matter.
I'd rather watch the pine needles dance than wallow in a pool of dark grey.
Don't fuck with my
C I R C A D I A N
R H Y T H M
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