1. |
bathe with me
03:21
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“will you come and bathe with me to settle your unrest?”
you asked me from the other side of the door to the closet.
“i don’t think so...
ok, i’ll let you know.”
“can you help me remember what loving you is like?”
you asked me in a tender voice standing by the fireside.
“i sure hope so, i don’t want to let you go...”
i sat out in the freezing cold, i don’t belong inside --
you told me you would let me in if there’s nothing left to hide,
“i don’t think so...
ok, i’ll let you know.”
i packed my bags and left you, but you stopped me on my way.
you said, “if this is everything, then, please, why don’t you stay?”
“because i know if i stay, i’d let you go...
because i know if i stay, i’d let you go.”
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2. |
a list of cons and pros
04:06
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well, i hardly possess
the wherewithal needed
to complete the ten days of this
radio silence we both agreed would be healthy
but, it's not because i've been longing for you
in a way i'd imagine most lovers would
it's more this day-in, day-out routine
getting out and in of bed with the one you simultaneously loathe and love
well, i've poured through the facts
least the ones you permit me to have
those three nights spent with another man
and would you believe that i'm starting to get it
but, it's not for an enlightened turn towards empathy
or that i'm suddenly prepared to forgive
it's more this poet behind the counter has me steeped in reverie that i found all too easy to become submersed in
what if i were to relegate our relationship
to a pros and cons list
the tact use to choose between me and him
then maybe you'd come to understand how this might make one feel degraded
but, hey,
you were right when you said it's time i stop playing the victim
so when these ten days expire
i won't pick up the phone
so as to ask where you are
press the lies
even if your stories and frame of time don't at all align
instead embrace the solace i collect
describe the reflecting resonance
when listening to the dialogue between us die
but, like all blackouts we impose
flickers as we again re-unite on the road
you in a cafe to write alone
i in calgary's diner for the retro
Stevie's voices quivers through the radio
coincidentally, it was just the moment before
that i was resenting our "rumours" ode
poems meant as letters
now to be exploited in harmony
if i'm to expose the shady edges of your character
then i think it best if i, too, own up
for the truth might be
cemented in our true beginnings
i had this all coming to me
soon as i took that whore in and back
ignored phone calls
you took it upon yourself to show up
instinctively knowing what i might be capable of
knock at the window
two rolling bodies floored
a voice to what would become
the familiar song sung
of love and/or dejection
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3. |
in the living room
03:49
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In The Living Room
don’t you think this quiet hurts?
body’s on the carpet, curled
folded like a dollar bill that doesn’t know its worth --
i’m not enough
don’t you think it’s hard for me?
loving unrequitedly?
you forget the tenderness that you’ve shown my body
now i’m unmarked land
weeping like a willow tree
in a house where you once were
i’m a bent-up suffragette and you’re just memories
that i’m here to forget
i am insignificant and you’re someone who’s free
no there’s not much left
you know that our future lies
in these achey lullabies
we’ll come together, like we had, to sing about goodbyes
in the year i’m thirty-five
spinning wind on burning fire
in a field as green as new, you’ll remember that you’re mine
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4. |
||||
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only the intellect
could depict such a lovely image
that spent the last five nights
stapled to the inside of my eyelids
in that hypnogogic state
expectations were exceeded
but the dopamine crash the morning after
lends to my regressing
slip of judgement and a sonnet sent to you
shortly after giving a book of poems
to a muse i couldn't help but pursue
for this duplicite lapse of weakness
the reward an art piece
lyrics for my digressions
self-directed melodramas
fuel the creative stupors that i bathe in
maybe think twice, pull the reigns back
start that meditation i'd promised
my l.a. guru
twice a day i'd do
despite the mind's resistance
now a memory of malibu comes flooding in
you walked bare and pale on the desert trail
when i stopped you in your tracks
dis-impassioned, still pulled you near
so bland, so listless
as you left a piece of me on the path
clenched fist in the lowest pit
another missed sunrise to purge it
a sleepless ache
not of dissimilar taste
to when once waking beside you
is that a subtle hint of regret
upon further dissection
second sonnet sent of adulation
were they words of desperation?
isolation in these hills or all this well water drank?
how timely an apology and the proclamation of love returning
the night you stayed claimed as a booty-call made me think
could that have really been my intention?
renewal the result of being rejected
by an apparition too unattainable
for the deceptive hypocrite
that i only occasionally
sometimes try not to be?
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5. |
miasma
01:54
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6. |
paint box
04:41
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Paint Box
paint me from memory
so that i know i’m on your mind
lose me again and again
‘til i’m the only thing you find
and write me in books ‘til the pages are full
so you read me in every line
‘cause, oh, birds on the wing
like us are too quick to love anything and see it through
so i’ll take my time with you
i’ll wait for poetry
before i speak to you in song
‘cause you gave me music in frailty
and i don’t want to get this wrong
so if art needs a space to write beauty from pain
then i’ll let this linger on
‘cause, home is only good
when misery’s sung in chorus and verse and not as the truth
so we can lose ourselves like lovers do
are we losing ourselves?
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7. |
deleted conversation
03:13
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it's unclear who's been following who around
or why we picked to pivot and plant ourselves
back in our hometown
there were plenty of painless exits
that would have taken me south
and without
the weighted eyes of our families watching
to put my finger on the sensation i get
witnessing the deletion of a text
after divulging the lies to your mother
you ended up devising just to keep this rekindling hid
would be far too foretelling
of the excuses i'd devise for leaving
abandoned baggage at the borderline
dragging along the blacktop every mile of the drive
to recover the ocean and santa cruz moonshine
when that doesn't work
maybe then i'll quit resisting
its purer water of shasta-trinity
a three dollar bottle has new friends pose as insightful clarity
but to awake depleted, the mind with its body
makes the sustain of will to not contact strewn
so give up in the afternoon
you respond with wanting your life back
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8. |
beg me to stay
01:56
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9. |
||||
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what’s the average cost of something precious that we’ve lost?
it takes us years to even wager half a guess
so, you went north and i drove south to live in someone else’s house
and you found grace in her and words she said
and time becomes the distance that slips gradually between
the last ten years that we have seen and what we see now
and silence is resistance to the path that we have made
that circles back and ‘round again and we can’t step out
so, instead, step down
try to be like Townes
and find some ease in this while we wait around
have i any sense or is it lack of self-respect to love you
even when your best is barely good?
stumbling on, i went to find the kindest accident
so i could find myself in him in other ways, i couldn’t
and no one should imagine what it’s like to harmonize
with your ruthless tell-all lines that bury me
‘cause kindness, when you had it, went so gently to your muse
with her soft nature and views of purity
it’s humbling
it’s an awkward thing
to be at the bottom of everything
if this is what’s been meant for me, then i accept with clarity
the Fates are workin’ hard to keep us bound
i’ve paid my dues, my karma’s free to cycle on with certainty
that better things are gonna come around
so, Heaven, if you’ll have us we would like to stay with you
and play blissfully in tune with what you weave
and we’ll believe in sadness as a necessary tool
not a fundamental rule in finding peace
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10. |
final verse
02:32
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Johnas & Connelly Banff, Alberta
Johnas & Connelly is a Rocky Mountain duo rooted in evergreen-fresh folk and small-town splendor. Inspired by canyons, caves, and excruciating break-ups, the pair uses thoughtfully-woven vocal harmonies and seasoned fingerpicking to honestly channel emotion-filled experiences into mindful art. ... more
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