Deeej

I thought this stanza up while having to watch my cousin bawl at the funeral of her 25 year old brother. I’ll turn it into something bigger soon.

Fingers pruning,

Skin soaked with memories,

Reflections of the way things were

Are shining from your eyes.

Sitting in a white chair

discovering who I may be,

And I realize the irony

of exactly where I am.

When our cold winter breath 

finally hits the ground,

It will be spring and raining

bringing life to new things.

When I was a child, everything was exactly how it seemed.

Now, God is just a premise, I’m the conclusion

waiting to be connected.

Validity fleets with every puff of smoke,

every sip of surreal secularity.

This argument eternal, begging to be breathed.

How must this cardinal connection show itself?

I am true. God, I would like to be true.

Is that enough?

This argument is fucked.

(Lyrics)

======================================

My blood ran deep but

The blue was yet dull

Surprisingly coolness

Is flowing to warmth

Quaere verum

————————————————

I fear that they all see me

Just a touch, though can’t deceive me

Like I could if I was

Inside out, my foot in my mouth

As the needle pushes deeper

Shattering my skin

—————————————————-

The hardest part of living

Is learning to breathe

The right way, though my sight says

Its very self’s the only thing that I can’t live

Without, out with the old

In with the Knew I couldn’t

Do this with my mouth shut

—————————————————-

It pushes deeper and it shatters my skin.

(Lyrics)

==============================================

Take me to the river so I can

See myself how I truly am

A reflection moving southbound down the current

And against the wind

Now am I ankle deep in muddy waters

Just to take a peak

Or is this gust at my back getting

Me to go in past my knees

———————————————————-

I don’t know, but I’ve been told

That finding yourself is just a part of growing old

But I don’t know

Whether to believe it any more

Than the things I hear on the street

Or in my head, or from the priest

It’s so hard to tell anymore

————————————————

It was said it wouldn’t be easy

But no one knew how right they’d be

And now the joker and the thief in me

Are finding it hard to believe

That such a little tiny seed

Could stand up to this giant tree

And throw it right into the sea

———————————————————-

8 more days and I’m only tasting dirt

I almost want it to be true so I can see what its worth

Today I sat down to revamp some old lyrics. I originally started writing this song after reading the dialogue in Book VII of The Republic written by Plato known as “The Allegory of the Cave.” After struggling to come up with anything worth while or non-cliche, I scrapped the whole idea, gave up, and wrote about something else. I had always considered those lyrics temporary until I achieved a point where I could more coherently portray my thoughts. That point finally came today, and this is a rough draft of the final lyrics. Let it be known that this song isn’t just “about Plato’s Cave.” It is more about the thought that came into my head during and after I read the dialogue. Some of it intrinsic, some of it existential.

…

“It’s all so much more than it seems,

So much more than you or me

What all am I supposed to know?

How to live? To love? To breath?

I want to break these chains,

To turn and face me, and

I want to know the name

of who I will be.

This stupid fucking here and now;

I know there’s more that I should hear about.

I want to be somebody, I just don’t know how.

~~

There’s nothing more dangerous than turning loose.

Break the chains so I can see this place a little more

clearly, this is crucial, this is dire, this is necessary.

Break the chains so I can light this place a little more

brightly, set this cave ablaze so we can see this world

More clearly”

This is from the chorus of a song that I wrote/am rewriting called “Declaration.” I’ve been singing it to myself a lot lately, and have really realized how much the words actually mean to me. When I first started writing the song, I didn’t even know what it was about. Ever since, the meaning of my words has become more and more clear. It’s the moments of realization like this that make me glad to be an artist.

“I know there’s something left to lose or I wouldn’t be fighting with all of my heart, which I can’t help but to choose over my head this time around.”