song against itself

first line false start first line is the hard part i'll write a better one in a while i could say 'good day what is new i'm fine how are you' you say 'okay, okay' there's fresh air on tarmac it's out front its out back you could easily go home in fact why don't you go home? why don't you go home? why don't you go home? the entertainment is postponed second part still no sense it's hard n's and present tense this is a song against itself the way i wrote it or rubbed it out but the increase in my self doubt might be the engine of some necessary change and a kind word about my style is difficult to reconcile with a sense of my own mediocrity my own mediocrity is mostly patiently received and i thank you for your time i appreciate your time but what if i put down this guitar shut up and took you in my arms regardless of who you were if you arrived with him or with her because i realized a stage is just a place for only laughter and disgrace and in a song i can still hide but the body close it cannot i may be here and yet i'm not my head is caught in this random thought it is two times it is also one the time passed the time to come the supposition it is annulled as youre crossing a main road crossing a main road a taxi was involved a cyclist was involved his lower body it was involved and he said 'close calls of death are an alarm a way of realizing that you are not that special in any way and you may go while others stay and take their tea out on the lawn and consider what you've said a bore and your thoughts on this are merely vain or at very least of no consequence' but what if i dropped dead on the floor for no clear reason you could find at all and the performance had to pause as you carry me out the door and say it was a good song in its way though you've heard better in your day and though it started rather well you found the end a little over theatrical but what if you fell off of your seat right now and died at someone's feet would your soul rise to a call or is their no soul here at all and just your actions day by day and death's insistent little way of whispering life into your ear it says you are alive and you are here so what if i put down this guitar shut up and took you in my arms regardless of who you were if you arrived with him or with her coz i realized a stage is just a place for only laughter and disgrace and in a song i can still hide but the body close it cannot

some examples

that's the hum of the pa that's the breath that i take that's the hand that strikes a chord that's the gesture that it makes that's the speaker and that's the wire that's the sound as it is fed that's the way my mouth is formed around the word that i just said that's the way you cock your head that's the position that you took that's the way your eyes are raised and the way you steal a look that's the way you speak of things when you are with your kin that's the way you hold yourself in the company of men that's the way the coda shifts the chord is struck the voice it lifts into the hollow of this room as if all this went unassumed i think about this table in this bar i know i think about the friends i will meet i think about what i will say to them about what they will say to me but i'm not speaking from the table in that bar and i'm not talking to my friends i'm standing here in a room full of eyes thinking about what might be said and i have to tell myself: don't think yourself out of it your first thought is a good one don't think yourself out of it present tense is a good thing don't think yourself out of it i observe what is in front of me don't think yourself out of it you are just where you're meant to be that's the way the coda shifts the time is going that's the way the coda shifts but you know the time is going my hands are moving my mouth is moving the world is turning this guitar is sounding that the way the coda shifts but you're just where you meant to be now for example

no time / here and now / shut the fuck up

to hold to the time to hold to the time don't heed the line don't heed the lines hold to the sound hold to the sound to this space be bound to the space be bound to be here in mind to be here in mind to be one in kind to be one in kind hold to the sound hold to the sound until a space is found until a space is found until there is no time until there is no sound only here and now and to breathe in time till i'm deaf, dumb and blind till i'm deaf, dumb and blind to my former kind! to some former kind! till there is no 'i' till there is no 'i' till i lose my mind till i get out of my mind i know we are one in kind there is only here and now i know we are one in kind

(why don't you shut the fuck up?)

i mark time

i mark time in the usual ways by a beat or a pulse a casio display i mark time by the light as its shown by some external sign or a guage of my own i mark time as if its fact were assured as if this bar to the next were a matter of course i mark time until i forget that it's there like the lash on your eyes the clip in your hair (i know this and this thing only) this is the rise and the fall of your breast as i sing this is the point and the gaze and what is happening this is the way unchanged even as it flashes before your eyes this is the way of the blue grey blue sky this is the rise and the fall and you know not where it will end

i went to write

i went to write my love down i went to speak a word for what I feel but my love cannot be spoken and my heart resists its tokens my love cannot be spoken and be the same but there's no real way of you knowing and a melody does its own thing there's no real way of you knowing that's my truth what if I'm just pretending the words just come-a-rending what if I'm just pretending to feel this but i went to write my love down i meant to write my love down but what if i'm just pretending so you feel it

same

it's the same five notes and the words tell you that it's the same five notes and the words tell you that it's the same five notes and the words tell you etc.

(voice guitar pause - beat)  (the thing itself is subject)

language

 

head caught mouth addressing peers for the head is trapped between the ears there is no form of language dear that could elevate our cause voice it shakes and instincts sink and what we feel and what we think are carved up by this fountain ink and thrown aimlessly around and as i start to embrace this idea i might trip and cut my lip and think of who they might have kissed while i entertain this crap so i could pour myself a drink in order so as less to think and i could embrace my fellow man in a way not usually allowed in a way not usually allowed there's this spoken word over a repeated coda eyes fixed on an eye or shoulder the situation is abnormal but we're all pretending that it's not you can watch and you can see me from an angle i don't know me but if i stoop to vanity will you please remind me dear but then i could dance with a six foot cutie on a stage or around the seating the idea is not so unappealing what's the point in a song anyway and when i'm sure that she is poised my intent cannot be ignored i'd gently open up her blouse kiss her there and on the mouth this lousy blousy open mouth the beginning it was in question and the ending it was deduced from a beginning itself in question an ending is deduced and he is acting as if he knew and she is acting as if she knew and we are acting as if we knew something for sure

 

idea of zero

 

and what will remain if I act only to erase? and what will remain if I act only to efface I act only to erase the act which I am engaged I act only to efface the sense this sentence makes I act only to erase my own self I do efface I speak this to find grace I speak this to find grace I speak this to cancel it out canel it out hold to the idea of zero hold to the idea of zero cancel it out remember the static as your moving along it's the idea of zero it's the idea of zero author the flaw augment the mistake remember your nothing as something escapes remember what's static in the movement you make but don't stop and don't hesitate what will remain if I act only to erase and what will remain if I act only to efface

 

the point of orientation

 

here's a repetition (no, no) here's a repetition i think that you heard it's double the words i stick to the facts the physical act is just a fraction but its an action and actions they say speak louder than words i could face the window i could face the window now face the wall watch you don't fall you can face the faces you're moving in spaces that govern the text and the line that comes next is a point of orientation where there is no other point at all take take this as a mode of assault take take this

as the perfection of a fault  (i could just) give up (you could just) give up give the crowd the bird and not speak a word just keep it it stumm or speak it in tongues it's an over reaction in a big pink thought caption it says i'm being here one moment at a time the best way that i can pray take this (moment) as an instance of grace pray, pray take this as a kick in your satisfied face oh the room the song the mouth and the tongue (is it a) c minor or a g minor a lousy one liner still the melody it floats

on a system of notes on a time line a convention of rhyme oh the proud song the amnesiac tongue (is it an) a minor a b minor a lousy one liner if i'm willing and able in culture and labour with a heave-ho i forget what i know so heave-ho heave-ho

 

a melody (strands 1 - 3)

 

this is this is what? this is what is done and this is what's to come to do to do something to do something of use in the rags of a melody the window the wall the roof the floor the body between a witness a fact an untruth an act what's in a song? a sentence a stop the swing the bop the hip the hop but these strands strands of image hang around strands trapped in the sound a shot of where you were in some gelatinian blur you are not what you were i knit strands into a cavity the action is involuntary a plume of smoke in a sunlit room laughter in suburban gloom a strand of lace made taut and tied the scent of rooms you occupied senseless strands of text of mindless self reference this mindless self reference this lessnesslessness bodies fusem release unknot as blood through vein does flow and clot the spittle on the tip strands of semen on her lips now your candour won't cut short  the ceasless pistons of your thought come in tracts and tracts intractable strands a synapse in the brain recalls a lover's name the simple ways you wore it out in the rags of a melody here's one for the memories the cadence of your breath these tiny little deaths each one a melody for now and the reverie but what's in a song?

pause (this song is a telescope)

condition uncertain uncertain i stay i speak of this moment this second in this day these words i can say these words i can say if time has a shape its form is unclear the past and this instant incessantly smear oh now we are here now we are here! in this room as it is its fact is our lot though i could guess on some elsewhere create a backdrop oh if this please you not if this pleased you not i have no imagination but (somewhere) horses are rutting their eyes are rebutting their own elegant vice and a boy with a boombox now turns off his car to look up at a star and he sees hip hop constellations hip hop constellations meanwhile this foot taps on a tamborine guitar it is plucked to an innocent melody but it won't change what is fucked so hijack this microphone or put a palm to my jaw kick in the speakers or smother the chords we'll be held to a pause held to a pause call me buddhist masochist

a figure

if it was wedded we would shed it and if it was young we would bed it if it was gold we would spoil it and if it was shit we would still soil it it if it was young and if it roamed we would tame it and if it spoke we would maim it if it was old we would tread it into the ground and desecrate it if it was old but its not spoken or seemly or grappling or gleaming it's not fraying or feeling nor aging nor nedding it's a figure of seasons laughter without reason it's the silence in the spoken the machine that is broken it's a figure without reason laughter of seasons it's the silence that is broken the machine in the spoken that false starts

different name

what if we woke up with a different name and both our names were spelt the same what if we woke up with a different body with the one open eye feeling hungry for a striptease in a new skin that stops once and starts again to a rhythm played on your knees there's a strange tone from the new voice it sings an old song from a musical in two part harmony it says 'you have the love that i need so much and you have the skin that i love to touch and from this moment on…' what if we woke up with a different brain and both our brains were tuned the same to a jackdaw on a roof top with its wings flexed for a take off flaunting all its liberty as cushions cripple tableware and bodies caught in mid air try in vainest mimicry they're singing 'please don't pass me over love i've been a lover i've just found it hard to breathe please don't pass me over love i've been a lover of all your ten thousand things, please don't pass me over love i've been a lover there were simply other needs please don't pass me over love i've been a lover god and i agree please don't pass me over love i've been a lover like seagull hits the sea, please don't pass me over love i've been a lover did i lose it wrecklessly please don't pass me over love i've been a lover i've just found it hard to breathe

the text of different name contains a lose quotation of the cole porter song 'from this moment on'

a night in

two in a room make indecent i wait on a funny bed two in a room one in the basement wishing she was here as well skin is waxed smooth unbroken lily white with cotton starched from the basin to the bath rug she can make the prettiest arch record spins its sweet distortion our blood is good the ample pig got spit roasted eager tails are sold and bought i'm a horny farmhand labourer she's the queen of the fucking court maybe i do love her so burn the sheets and trash the flat i've got her (face in the palm of my hand) because the blind they are insatiable for the sound of their own breath in the lungs of the night

pan am girl

returning in mind to you as if viewing the trailer of a film you already saw i gathered up a skein of you approaching sleep and the plane arrived from the left side from the high left side of my mind's eye and the ocean was there, all around and the plane hit the water the plane hit the water in complete silence where you just were and the sound was catastrophic the white cabin front of an airliner carving into the surf like a dumb spade head into turf on a bright hollywood day and the plane hit the ocean there was no clearer sound no more graceful a thing as this though it was destruction and the silence was amplified to the pitch of an avalanche all white and sound in my mind where you just were where you should have been and where you remained somehow where you would have been where you just were and somehow you remained

a name is a code

a name is a code for a collection of bones a layer of hair and of skin the vessel to which we attribute this name has actions recorded therein is that what you are? is that all you are? so i am a fraction of this crowd on an easy evening out but i'm half paralyzed by the shape of your mouth and half by the words that come out is that what you are? is that what you are? is that what she was? is that what he was? is that what i  was? if a heart is earmarked by a name at the start like some kind of composite twin yours was the only one that i knew there was never another to win

© 2015 all texts by guy dale / mute swimmer