Thursday, March 20, 2014

Some More Stuff

I just realized that I have not updated this in some time. Here is something that got wonderful reception at the Cultiv8N Culture open mic in Phoenix.

The Piper and the Swordsman

Forgive the plaintive songs
This reed sings what it knows best
There was little sweetness in its bed
It was plucked green
The cane dried and yellowed
Cut down to size and drilled
Holes along its body
For the air to pass, creating
Melody, harmony, music

The remainder of the reed
Split and bound
Wrapped in cloth and leather
The two halves sing for each other
One sings its sweet tune. longing
The other has no voice
Whenever it is swung the air passes
It hears its other half
Cries in its quiet way
Whooosh, crack!

One day the two halves reunited
The flute was being played as usual
Its master begging in his tattered robe
The other carried by a traveling swordsman
Looking upon the flautist the fighter frowned
He said, "The song you play hurts me deeply
I cannot stand to hear it any longer.
It is too much for me to bear, my heart
Longing to leap from my chest."

The musician looked upon the fighter
His response, "Blowing air through this
Sad, abused reed is what I need.
The joy in my heart is not apparent
As I expel sadness from my lips.
Leave me now, I have played here for years."
With a lightning quickness
The swordsman lashed out
Cane whooshing, then CRACK!
The flute's sad music ended
Each half having met, both broke

The piper looked up, stricken
Flute smashed, so was the practice weapon
Seeing the swordsman's face
Crying over his broken stick
The musician laughed and rose
Walking calmly he bid the man,
"Peace unto you my brother."

--

I'm still working on this one at the moment, I think this is the first verse but... I need to do more work.

Thirst

Come, let us sit and speak, I long to listen
Smoking, sharing, making signals as we gesture
Spiraling smoke, spinning vortices, dervishes in the air
Breathe out, so I can inhale the vapor of your words
Being that high, from your thoughts
Pour another whiskey, golden liquid
Quenching throats with this: water of life
Closer, lean in, I long to drink your smile
Dropsy takes hold, drunk on that distilled happiness
Light a new flame, I see the fire reflecting
Staring into the mirrors of your eyes to see myself
Who is there? Not who was before