-recorded sometime between 2017 and 2018. the poem was given to me by Mount Washington on a day with odd weather, even by New England standards. the deconstructed violin loop was recorded using a violin that was un-cared for, gifted to me from someone I choose to never see again. I forgive you. but I will never forget.
lyrics
the blooming spring poison stagnates
and unveils roots running rampant
flowing like veins
gashed and left open to the rain
the leaves grow to hide the nakedness of fragile nature
the hanging moss leans
the crooked branches
the shade cascades the grain
moving to the rays like chlorophyll romance
they cast the ground in gray
they cast the ground in gray...
in gray
this fortress resonates
a reverberation of sound that dissolves only just before new birth
a flowing stream that runs pebbles into sand
ever moving
ever flowing
“i want to run you over” whispers the river
withering away the rock
the river never gives reason
the rock never understands why
the sand is undefinable, but the river never runs dry
the shadow uses the sun as a metronome
keeping track of its heartbeat
because it cannot regularly specify that it's alive
ever moving
ever flowing
it casts the ground in gray
it looks up to the sky and waits
“i am easy to love and difficult to forget”
the sun: “i do not trust you”
the shadow says, “you shouldn't.”
The British-Somali poet draws upon everything from leftfield folk to minimalist spoken-word, bound together by simple-yet-cutting wordplay. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 28, 2021