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deathcalls

by Mared Jurphy

/
1.
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
2.
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?
3.
HEART, HARK! 08:26
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.
4.
(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
5.
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.
6.
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

about

a story of one person's relationship with death, aging, and nature, told through drums and voice.

credits

released May 26, 2019

Album Artwork: Marissa Kamenetsky

license

all rights reserved

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