Well you call again,
as if I don't know what you're going to say...
So let it ring,
I can count the cracks in the ceiling all day long.
I guess the birds they just went south,
but I've got no where to go,
it's 31 and falling,
I've been dreaming of you darling,
in case you'd like to know...
God damn my wasted time,
ringing all the bells.
If I could hold my tongue,
just long enough to get me through the door
then you won't know...
rewind the tape while your back is turned,
fold my arms and pull the curtains closed,
bury the roses in the backyard
and darlin' never mind what I might have said, before, before,
God damn my wasted time,
ringing all the bells...
I've got half a mind to lie to you
half a mind to tell you everything I have to tell, to tell, to tell.
I've been wasting my time I know I know better,
and I'm tired of waxing sentimental,
I'm tired of saying please, please,
tired of waiting,
I'm tired of waiting.
You call again,
as if I don't know what you're going to say...
—Chris Pureka, 31 and Falling
July 30, 2008
Loudly we contort our exchanges
The thing is, how friggin' cool and talented is my sister?
Best Poem
Naked
As the open eye, these windows are
without curtain or shade. When night dilates
and the irises close sliver-thin
around their stamens, light spills out
from within. We burn the bulbs
inside the lamps, meter spinning
a frantic carousel in its pan,
and the street outside becomes audience
to our show of limbs.
Loudly we contort our exchanges
and large expressions, because
we know what’s expected
in the performance. It’s made us
different, to believe
someone’s always watching.
We are less you and me; more them,
shadow actors moving
and speaking when directed.
Still, there are moments
when our old selves appear
and the absence of curtains or shades
proves less significant
than being here, quiet
and a breath apart, barely touching.
—Sarah Kain Gutowski
Best Poem
Naked
As the open eye, these windows are
without curtain or shade. When night dilates
and the irises close sliver-thin
around their stamens, light spills out
from within. We burn the bulbs
inside the lamps, meter spinning
a frantic carousel in its pan,
and the street outside becomes audience
to our show of limbs.
Loudly we contort our exchanges
and large expressions, because
we know what’s expected
in the performance. It’s made us
different, to believe
someone’s always watching.
We are less you and me; more them,
shadow actors moving
and speaking when directed.
Still, there are moments
when our old selves appear
and the absence of curtains or shades
proves less significant
than being here, quiet
and a breath apart, barely touching.
—Sarah Kain Gutowski
I want you between me and the feeling I get when I miss you
I want you between me and the feeling I get when I miss you
But everything here is telling me I should be fine
So why is it so, above as below,
That I'm missing you every time
I got used to you whispering things to me into the evening
We followed the sun and its colours and left this world
It seems to me that I'm definitely
Hearing the best that I've heard
So throw me a rope to hold me in place
Show me a clock for counting my days down
Cause everything's easier when you're beside me
Come back and find me
Cause I feel alone
And whenever you go it's like holding my breath underwater
I have to admit that I kind of like it when I do
Oh but I've got to be unconditionally
Unafraid of my days without you
So throw me a rope to hold me in place
Show me a clock for counting my days down
Cause everything's easier when you're beside me
Come back and find me
Whenever I'm falling you're always behind me
Come back and find me
Cause everything's easier when you're beside me
Come back and find me
Cause I feel alone
—KT Tunstall, Throw Me A Rope
But everything here is telling me I should be fine
So why is it so, above as below,
That I'm missing you every time
I got used to you whispering things to me into the evening
We followed the sun and its colours and left this world
It seems to me that I'm definitely
Hearing the best that I've heard
So throw me a rope to hold me in place
Show me a clock for counting my days down
Cause everything's easier when you're beside me
Come back and find me
Cause I feel alone
And whenever you go it's like holding my breath underwater
I have to admit that I kind of like it when I do
Oh but I've got to be unconditionally
Unafraid of my days without you
So throw me a rope to hold me in place
Show me a clock for counting my days down
Cause everything's easier when you're beside me
Come back and find me
Whenever I'm falling you're always behind me
Come back and find me
Cause everything's easier when you're beside me
Come back and find me
Cause I feel alone
—KT Tunstall, Throw Me A Rope
July 23, 2008
July 9, 2008
Want to see . . .
I read about this movie on the bus this morning. So I looked up the trailer. And NOW I want to see it. See how that works?
But do I read the book first? Decisions decisions . . .
But do I read the book first? Decisions decisions . . .
July 8, 2008
Some people are just so effing talented.
I have spent the last hour looking thru all of Julia Nune's stuff on youtube: jaaaaaaa's channel
She's awesome. Very talented. Very funny. Very worth all the good stuff happening to her.
I'm actually thinking about going to see her at the Knitting Factory this weekend. Anyone? Anyone? Hahlao?
She's awesome. Very talented. Very funny. Very worth all the good stuff happening to her.
I'm actually thinking about going to see her at the Knitting Factory this weekend. Anyone? Anyone? Hahlao?
Well, that's something.
Lauren, you're on the list. And THANK YOU for the following:
Dude, fascinating what peeps can do on youtube, eh? . . .
. . . there are just so many more.
Fascinating.
Dude, fascinating what peeps can do on youtube, eh? . . .
. . . there are just so many more.
Fascinating.
Plant me in the garden, don't you let me roam.
I'm a ship, I'm a ship, I'm a ship
Out on the sea
None of my love
Floating wild come back to me
So I write you a letter, I'll write you a letter
With this here pen
Don't make me wait, don't make me wait
Cos I'm your friend
I'm in love with the garden
That is down the street
And the earth is a warm thing under my feet
And the earth is a warm thing under my feet
Oh long streams of light
Lift me, from this dirty town
Cuz I'm losing stain, soak me yeah with rain, rain, rain, rain
I'm a ship, I'm a ship, I'm a ship
Out on the sea
And all these clouds flying by so fast
Well they confuse me
And the long leaves in the tall trees
Pale in the sunshine
And I was twistin' and turnin'
In the cool sheets past bed time
Plant me in the garden
Don't you let me roam
Cuz love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Plant me in the garden
Don't you let me roam
Cuz love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Plant me in the garden
Don't you let me roam
Cuz love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
—The Be Good Tanyas, Ship Out On The Sea
Out on the sea
None of my love
Floating wild come back to me
So I write you a letter, I'll write you a letter
With this here pen
Don't make me wait, don't make me wait
Cos I'm your friend
I'm in love with the garden
That is down the street
And the earth is a warm thing under my feet
And the earth is a warm thing under my feet
Oh long streams of light
Lift me, from this dirty town
Cuz I'm losing stain, soak me yeah with rain, rain, rain, rain
I'm a ship, I'm a ship, I'm a ship
Out on the sea
And all these clouds flying by so fast
Well they confuse me
And the long leaves in the tall trees
Pale in the sunshine
And I was twistin' and turnin'
In the cool sheets past bed time
Plant me in the garden
Don't you let me roam
Cuz love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Plant me in the garden
Don't you let me roam
Cuz love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Plant me in the garden
Don't you let me roam
Cuz love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
—The Be Good Tanyas, Ship Out On The Sea
July 3, 2008
Sometimes I feel I know strangers better than I know my friends
(This is always coming up on my Pandora station . . . tis a lovely song. Sad, but lovely.)
I could have treated you better
But you couldn't have treated me worse
But it's he who laughs last
Is he who cries first
Sometimes I feel I know strangers
Better than I know my friends
Why must a beginning
Be the means to an end
The stones from my enemies
These wounds will mend
But I cannot survive
The roses from my friends
When the last word has been spoken
And we've bared witness to the final setting sun
All that shall remain is a token
Of what we've said and done
When all we've had has been forsaken
Distant church bells no longer ring
Thats the sound of a heart taken
And the story of tears from a king
The stones from my enemies
These wounds will mend
But I cannot survive
The roses from my friends
This may be the last time I see you
Forgive me for holding you close
This may be the last time that I see you
So of this moment I will make the most
This may be the last time I see you
But if you keep me in your heart
Together we shall be eternal
If you believe
We shall never part
The stones from my enemies
These wounds will mend
But I cannot survive
The roses from my friends
—Lenny Kravitz / Roses From My Friends
I could have treated you better
But you couldn't have treated me worse
But it's he who laughs last
Is he who cries first
Sometimes I feel I know strangers
Better than I know my friends
Why must a beginning
Be the means to an end
The stones from my enemies
These wounds will mend
But I cannot survive
The roses from my friends
When the last word has been spoken
And we've bared witness to the final setting sun
All that shall remain is a token
Of what we've said and done
When all we've had has been forsaken
Distant church bells no longer ring
Thats the sound of a heart taken
And the story of tears from a king
The stones from my enemies
These wounds will mend
But I cannot survive
The roses from my friends
This may be the last time I see you
Forgive me for holding you close
This may be the last time that I see you
So of this moment I will make the most
This may be the last time I see you
But if you keep me in your heart
Together we shall be eternal
If you believe
We shall never part
The stones from my enemies
These wounds will mend
But I cannot survive
The roses from my friends
—Lenny Kravitz / Roses From My Friends
July 2, 2008
Perfect combo.
Two videos of Chris Pureka covering one of my favorite songs, Wagon Wheel.
She's at Highline Ballroom on July 16, supporting Jay Brannan. Think I might just go and support her . . . and ask why she isn't headlining her own show. T'would be more than worth it, is all I'm saying.
She's at Highline Ballroom on July 16, supporting Jay Brannan. Think I might just go and support her . . . and ask why she isn't headlining her own show. T'would be more than worth it, is all I'm saying.
July 1, 2008
You can hear the angels fallin'
(Crazy pixelated but good sound.)
Good good good:
Like there was any doubt . . .
Good good good:
Like there was any doubt . . .
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