"I'm trying to spell, what only the wind can explain."
Oh my, how it keeps me up at night.
I'm unwraveling this blanket... and it's lieslies all lies.
Nono, don't you see? I don't sleep anymore, I can't dream anymore.
Is it obvious? Does it show?
I am a scandal, and you, you are a grand illusion.
I build monsters, we test them on playgrounds. The big ones eat the merri-go-rounds.
Cyclic wastes, they are, don't you agree?
I don't.
Make sense.
I'm tired.
Pendulums -Sarah Harmer
"We are like pendulums
Our arms swinging at our sides
And I am a good little clock
Walking along power lines
I'm thinking like a swinging door
Hinging on these changing thoughts
Between the pull up to the shore
And the push off
In the lines of footprints in the snow
All along the edges of the road
I haven't even walked my block
Since I moved out here years ago
The secret lives of twist ties
The hidden story in one line
We are like pendulums
Our arms swinging at our sides
And I am a good little clock
I'm ticking off the time
The distant lights are twinkling
It means there is a wind
That blows the trees against themselves
And hard into this house I'm sleeping in
I'm sleeping in"
Don't bother reading this post.
2 comments:
I bothered, and found it worth while. "Cyclic" being the favorite of it all. Not going to pretend what it all means.
Hope to see you soon. Are you in Calgary this weekend by any chance?
wild horses couldn't drag me away.
you are krista-lee my donkey
warmth.
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