[Fellswell]

Tick Talk

Directions from a dial
Every hour is another
Mission island or mile

I descend to sleep
Days of mine aligned
Prospects lost in the deep
I'm growing weak
Rowing in the stone
With my metal teeth
Blackened lungs rung out
Rattled spouted heat
Crackled echoed sung in shout
And died down beneath
Streets and soulless feet

Directions from a dial
Every minute is another
Mission island or mile

I rise with the sun
Settled in since Aten
Caught in between
A life and dream
A lie and light
Drafting off the past
As the wake lasts

Directions from a dial
Every second is another
Mission island or mile

Ticking takes its toll
Pay attention every second
An inconsistent drum roll
Mentions no intention

The lines on the face
Mark moment and place
The arm spans
The second hand
Stretching from the sun
Turning with the vibration

Directions from a dial
Every increment's another
Mission island or mile

[Fellswell]

Abel's Cane

Warn us and warm us
Your arms are enormous
Your eyes are the size
Of the shrinking sky
Wide and wise
Accept your lies
Become your disguise
Run on light

Adorn us and mourn us
Born now abort us
Your womb is doorless
A tomb and a furnace

Bored to your core
We found you snoring
And asked for more
Than you're ignoring

Warn us and warm us
Your arms are enormous
Your eyes are the size
Of the shrinking sky
Wide and wise
Accept your lies
Become your disguise
Run on light

Carry us and bury us
Under all the various
Carrion circling
Carry on harvesting
Our hearts and parts
For the forthcoming
Bury us running

[Fellswell]

I've not slept in over 50 hours...

I Lie To My Eye

I am sand and I am glass
I am tinder I am ash
I am silt and I am dirt
I am only eyes and words

I am fog and I am mist
I am smoke and I am gas
I am first and I am last
I am thirst and I am passed

I'm the focus I'm unclear
I've made the most of what was here
I'm far off and I am near
I'm a ghost and you're my dear
I'm all you're not sure you hear

I'm the mouse and I'm the flea
I'm the pollen and the bee
I'm the termite and the tree
I'm determined in defeat

I'm a monster I'm a mask
I'm an answer never asked
I am treasure I am trash
I am measured I am matched

I am shy and I am bold
I'm what I say I'm what I'm told
I'm to throw and I'm to hold
I'm my own and I'm controlled

I am a man I am an ant
I think I can but know I can't
I am a train I am a rant
I'm a promise I recant

[Vintage54]

   Hey!
    You know, i really find your work interesting. But it makes me feel inferior, dumb even, because most of it goes sailing over my head. Of the three here, i like the last one best, it's got the flow of the Nile. Are you a musician, or just a wordsmith? If it's the latter, my advice to you, is to find a website for budding poets. You may get more feedback there, from people that are a whole lot smarter than me. Not in any way trying to get rid of you though, please keep posting and trying to connect.

                           And get some sleep
                                 Vintage54

[Fellswell]

Thanks for the response, Vintage. This all started off of a song titled "Novelty's Refrain" that included the line "We've heard all the wrong songs". My attempt is to make songs far from what is being done. Modern music is designed to be infectious and that is accomplished with a catchy beat and chorus that takes as little thought as possible. In your everyday life, what actually makes you think? Humanity is far from solving puzzles outside of specific and limited fields. We are simply shown how to do in exactly the way it has been successful in the past. True novelty is inefficient compared to going with the grain. These songs might never materialize but I am trying something beyond music as it is accepted. Basically, I'm trying to take a shit in the mold.

Poets are completely incapable of accepting novelty. It is truly sad considering what poetry once was. They expect every piece to fit cleanly alongside something that has already been done. Limiting creative words to a format is so backwards I've felt the need to write several songs about it. It is also a neat parallel to the state of modern creation. I actually just checked out a few poetry forums and they've actually gotten worse. Also, they don't appreciate clever, they appreciate nonsense that could mean something else to anyone reading and wordy descriptions fitting medieval rhyming schemes and formats.

These are songs. They were written as songs and I feel they are even if they are never sung. I am a musician but have moved away from recording because it is just tracing over what I have done. I am much more productive making new lines.

I don't want to make anyone feel inferior. All of the songs circle the workings of existence. The most important piece to hold onto is that influence is the root of everything. Potential is the capacity to influence and or be influenced. I can't very well make something like "On the Origin of Species" in the modern world without becoming a respected biologist or physicist and that would be incredibly limiting. Instead, I try to keep it in the peripheral until the ideas set.  Understanding these concepts becomes almost like a cypher for understanding these songs fully. I don't expect them to be appreciated or to be found when they can be appreciated but I can't continue being a placeholder. Creation (not filling a mold) is the only thing that keeps me from feeling like an adamaton.