sinaloa

words

oceans of islands – 2008

tread, not trudge
there is a story in each room, door to door. battered and torn, still doesn’t erase what was here. from street to street, we walked in arms, from lizardi to congress, finger to finger. these seeds will grow into fields, into a beauty that always lived here. hope within these walls, within a people who know, know no boundaries. swim these waters, tread with head held high. share your sorrows and struggles. hearts that have been sunken deep, this is where it lives and breathes. these waters ripple in each soul who enters, stir like new beginnings, with a hope so strong.
explanation
in the summer of 2006 i had the opportunity to help lead a group of teenagers down to new orleans, louisiana to help in the aftermath of hurricane katrina. to truly explain the experience would be impossible. from helping to gut houses, to meeting the people who lived in the area and were planning on moving back, was an eye opening experience. almost a year later from the storm, and from the lay of the land you would have thought it had just happened. most of the areas were ghost towns. we’d enter abandoned houses with clothes and furniture strewn across each room, walls covered with mold and watermarks that were close to the ceiling. upon entering each house i couldn’t help but think how we were trespassing through someone’s belongings. to have everything that was once so personal to someone, emptied throughout the house, destroyed. remnants of a life that took place within each room. yet, all we could do was make piles to be sorted or eventually trashed. however, when we met the people who lived in these houses, they had a way to them, a sincerity, strength and hope that they would continue to move on, that this disaster would not stop them. it really put things in perspective, to hear stories and see the people of new orleans (and all areas effected by katrina) push forward and reclaim their lives.
what we could not move
with tiny fingers we reach up and up, sometimes it takes the likes of us all. and maybe it’s my fault if it doesn’t work this time. maybe it was never meant to be fine. eyes closed, we drive through streets we know so well. i mouth all the words i’d love for you to tell. with hopes and wishes, on tired knees, at the foot of this bed. my mind plays back and forth all you ever said. and it speaks to us in ways we never knew, at this point i’m grasping on to what’s left, knowing it’s through. this proves to be the hardest, even when it takes the likes of us all. maybe we did the best that we could.
explanation
some people say that if you work hard enough anything is possible, and while i know and believe that effort is needed to make something work, there are certainly times when things just weren’t meant to be. there is a point when you need to step back and reconsider the situation and realize that even all of your effort is not going to make a change. i’m not trying to be pessimistic, but i think it is important to know that there are times when reality needs to surface and take precedent to help make decisions, move forward and learn.
ashes of giants
sounds, wavering in their youth, end a silence that followed fury. for the first time in months, the sun rose, and battered the waking earth with light. it rained warmth on frozen ground, and uncovered the ruins of night. no more would giants bend the earth. water melted, and again began to move – washing over the buried bones of giants. gathering, from the fallen, what could be used, the water held promise. no more would giants bend the earth. the hands of industry had to give up their grip, when the bodies weakened with their own girth. the fires that engulfed the earth were, now, only ash and silt. the giants that set them were destroyed by what they built. water then carried the distilled remnants of what gave them breath, but left buried what gave them greed and guilt. for the first time, in months, the sun rose, and battered the waking earth with light. it rained warmth on frozen ground, and uncovered the ruins of night. no more would giants bend the earth.
explanation
this is an addendum, or postscript, to ‘the earth is on fire’. this takes place after the imagined apocalypse, and life has not ended – although the species that was the architect of destruction is gone. moreover, the biological imprint of the deceased (lacking the desperate drive to grow for growth’s sake) carries life on into a new era. one of rebirth, and of healing.
seek harbor
it billows and sways, almost engulfing us capturing anything in its course. even holding on tight won’t save us this time. we can’t be saved, we won’t be saved. clouds above, follow like a moth to a flame. like terrible monsters with mouths and hands hoping to swallow us whole. and we can hide but it’s still there. we lock ourselves in down below, still it hunts us and haunts us. this is our own creation, right here in front of us a very hell of our own…and you whisper, “it never ends.” we can’t sleep this one away. it’s our own doing, with no end to these dark clouds; so unforgiving, unrelenting, with no end in sight. you write it all down frantically with hopes that we’ll be found. not to be lost forever, not to ever stray this way, not to follow this course again.
explanation
we make mistakes throughout our lives, as individuals and as communities. over time, you’d hope to learn from them, to not make the same mistakes on a consistent basis. some choices have greater effects than others, and one can only hope that these events sort themselves out over time, through work and communication. individually, i know that i have made mistakes, some that i still look back and wince at. i learn from them, but still they don’t always make me feel good about the situation. on a larger scale, you look at the world and how we treat (and interact with) each other, as one nation to another nation, and it is truly terrifying. it makes you wonder, no matter how many books record our history, if we will ever truly learn from our mistakes. does it ever end? will we ever learn? will the smaller voices, the true people, ever rise up and be heard? can we continue to live like this?
voices resound
from sender to sender, i guess they’ve all forgotten. from sender to sender, we don’t sing the same songs. we’ll look back at all of this, in the shadow of a building, with silence saying all we ever could. to feel new soil under our feet and see where we traveled (from point a to b) and all the places in between. sometimes we don’t sing the same songs. this may never reach your ears. you never saw the intent. you never could see the end. years of listening from sender to sender, i guess they’ve all forgotten. do you see beyond your own space?
explanation
in high school i was fortunate enough to stumble upon a wonderful youth organization called the andover youth services (ays). the program gave, and continues to give, a voice to the youth of our town. furthermore, it continues to inspire me today. beginning with one person and a small group of high school students in 1994, it has now grown to a full time staff of 5 who serve roughly 2000 people ranging from elementary school to high school. all the while, they have continued to strive in bringing a youth center to the town. yet, there have been many people who have refused to give support to ays and the goals they strive for, to empower the youth. each person who works at ays has amazing passion to create, serve and contribute constantly. it seems few and far between that you find a group of people who continually work so hard, with a perpetual desire and drive to better themselves and the community, both large and small. these are truly inspiring people. this is for bill, glenn, suzie, tony and sobhan.
rows of tops
we shout at those who can hear, but whisper in the direction of the deaf. we are oracles and truth seers, but we don’t get up from our desks. we don’t want to follow where anyone goes. we are oceans of islands with no shore. we shoot up into trees at eagles and crows, but can’t see through the branches anymore. we forget our friends, even more – our foes, but we type until our fingers are sore. we maim our face, to spite our nose, and stop working when it makes us sore. we try to topple columns by forming rows, and yell in ways so easy to ignore. we’re revolutionary, but just spinning.
explanation
it seems to me that a higher and higher percentage of human interactions are faceless, anonymous, and largely without consequence. they are conveyed through a computer, a text message, or some other device of convenience, and they happen very much in isolation. there is also a vast universe of online spaces, and it seems that many people respond to that vastness by desperately trying to be noticed, to be distinct amongst the countless masses, but not necessarily being desperate to connect with anyone else in a meaningful way. people are forgetting what it is to look another person in the eye. the most important, and most trivial, topics are debated vehemently (often expertly), but because the trivial seamlessly neighbors the important, very little gets beyond debate. very little turns to action. a generation of people see very clearly the problems of their day, but largely in isolation, and the real mimics the tone of the hypothetical.
no bearing
when this vessel reaches shore, it will be empty. it calls to no one. adheres to nothing. alone among these waters no direction, no course. let the sinking begin, let it swallow it whole.
explanation
the overall feeling of when things have reached, what seem to be, rock bottom, or are spinning out of control. when you feel like you have no control over the situations that are in front of you. i guess these are the times that truly test us, allow us to learn, but also feel so defeating that you want to just hide from it all.
echoes
these months have been unforgiving, to watch her slowly lose pace. and i sleep standing up, or not at all. but these feelings can’t amount to the struggle i see in that room. but within it, i see a smile and i’m not sure where that courage comes from. and if i wrote a last “goodbye” i’d be calling it all quits, giving it all up. i know the smells and sounds, all a little too well. so i struggle to watch this day in and out. but long ago we built this fire and it still glows. we fan the flames and it fills me up. neither rain nor snow deadens it. with closed eyes i wonder the pain, my heart fills, cries and holds her.
explanation
this is really written from the stand point of my father and the way i imagine he may have felt and thought as he watched my mother slowly lose her battle with cancer. as a young child i know it was hard for me, but i was also sheltered a bit from what was really happening. for him, to watch the love of his life succumb to a horrible disease at such a young age, i can only try to imagine how very hard it was, how indescribable it must have been, and how these feelings must still resonate within him today.
name names
can you see yourself along this stream? ripples only make it messier. there is a poison, one that you can’t touch. was it in you since day one? something you feel inside and out. your name was known, the shadow that you cast. it seeps into you, this toxicity. and not for one year, but many. so it’s broken, broken from the start. is it for us to fix, to put these parts back together? to not put you in the corner, to not ignore what went wrong. if you never knew how to swim, would we throw you in? with you flailing, the tide carrying you out. would we save you? these are the ones who were marked, the “nonexistent.” we’ll be the first to point the finger, we’ll be the first to call you out. to learn from the unlearned, please ignore our ignorance, this has become so routine. what will save you? what will save me?
explanation
in school there have always been people who were labeled as “trouble.” where these labels came from, it’s not certain, but they always seemed to stick. often times, the image that was cast upon these individuals stayed with them throughout the course of school, sometimes leading to self esteem issues within these people. we are so quick to judge, to place people into categories, so that we have a better handle on them and can feel secure about ourselves. as a teacher now, i still see this happen, with both students and teachers guilty of doing so. obviously, this is not unique to just a school setting, but really to any social situation. we have the tendencies to mark people and truly this is out of our own insecurities.
legs.limbs.wings
standing on shaky ground, bed and clothes that barely fit. see my ankles and wrists, awake with cold feet. when this bed is too short, our legs have grown too long and weary. now we breathe in december’s air and go silent, like in a dream. all comes rushing back, all we used to fear. the things we said we’d do and undo but never did, just like we knew. it’s been us for so long, for so many years. and we’ve all grown so very much, legs to limbs to wings. we grow and outgrow, dance and take steps. it becomes us slowly. never to return that place in quite the same way.
explanation
i’ve never been great with change. i get used to the way things are and then over time, what once was is no longer and it takes me a little while to adjust. it’s obviously a part of life, and an important one at that. sometimes these changes can be scary, or take you by surprise. however, we need to take these steps to better ourselves, and at the same time we need those around us to take these steps. change can, unfortunately, bring criticism when often times they should be celebrated. i know i have been guilty of this myself. i can only hope to help those around me, as i know they would help me, to help better one another.
split with daniel striped tiger – 2008

cause and effect
guide with control to standardize our lives.  confined to decide within the boundaries of belief. beliefs built on history and the financial burden of those with the power to influence regulation in their favor. forced to live in a state of imperfect liberty and in the shadow and false sentiment of freedom, that guides our next action. to take a mistake and turn it to fortune. from the greed of those that came before us, built the pillar of our culture, to profit on error and close the door of chance. let us breathe and we’ll fall on our own. rather than be confined by the rules etched in stone. let us breathe to move forward. let us breathe and move forward.
explanation:
when i wrote the lyrics to this song as i was thinking a lot about the united states’ political process and the origin of regulations that are instilled upon us.  they come in the form of policy, best practice, and law that we have to comply with on a daily basis.  some are meant to improve the quality of life for mankind while others act to endorse private companies with influence.  In either case these regulations have downstream effects and might not make sense on a larger scale.  give consideration to the guidelines that you are expected to follow; think about where they came from, who they benefit, and who they were meant to benefit.
split with ampere – 2006
the earth is on fire
“the earth is on fire,” i try to scream, when i find myself floating in space, in a dream. the earth was on fire, with dust and smoke quickly replacing all of the atmosphere’s air. i didn’t know where I was, other than space, but i knew that i was not safe, and that something terrible had taken place. the clouds of dust somehow erupt from the earth, and surround me. voices join me in the dust, but there are too many to understand, and the languages are not my own. more and more voices, including mine, call out – dissolving the sounds into one solid tone. the dust then moves slower, and gets more thick. darker and darker, it gets difficult to move, and i panic. the dust around me becomes dirt that i am buried in. so, i begin to dig in the direction i decide is up. for hours, i fight. finally, it’s enough, and i move into light. i pull myself out onto frozen ground, stand, and look around. long dead dogs are half buried in snow. a child kneels next to me, and she is mourning the dead. the sun is setting, and tthe sky is burning red, orange, and gold. the girl looks at me, then the sky, and says, “the earth is on fire.”
explanation:
the images depicted in this song are almost entirely derived from dreams that i’ve had. what stands behind the imagery is an imagined apocalypse, seen from a non-human, or impossible, vantage point. the witness, while possessing very sensitive instruments to record the chaos and confusion of the earth’s last gasps, is not immune from danger or panic. the witness also feels compelled to work and to fight the situation, and is able to move into a different environment – to look upon a different scene. this closing scene takes place earlier, back on earth, with death still present. innocence spawns the closing statement, in contrast to the horrifying truth that spawned the same opening statement.
tongue to teeth
can you measure in numbers? can you give weight or name to this? when language falls short, when an image is all that’s left breathless, speechless. if words would, oh how i’d let them…spilling, flowing and deafening this beauty, this sadness, we can’t find the words to make them or ones that do justice or don’t sound hollow. how is this translated? the unknown that which i myself cannot describe, only simply in the end this is just noise, and these are just sounds.
explanation:
there are moments when what lies before me, whether it be physical or emotional, finds me speechless. a true thing of beuty or of terrible proportions that i can’t find words to even begin to explain. i often feel limited by my own language and it frustrates me because i cannot translate to others what i see or how i feel.
i’m getting tired
i felt weightless, i felt myself come out of my seat. as i held the wheel tight, my white knuckles couldn’t keep me grounded. the cold air blows in my eyes. dilating my pupils. i struggled to see through the hazy air. the air seems thick like how the sun shines in september. a permanent dusk and perpetual defeat. shadows of trees draped across the road spray across my eyes in a syncopated rhythm. trying to keep awake the music fades to wind. the wind blows past my ears, and through my head giving way for nothing else, deafening. distracted and helpless. the city won’t stop for you.
explanation:
over the course of the past several months i have found myself feeling unhealthy, and not at a level of consciousness that feels normal. at this point i have taken steps to improve the way i feel through exercise, diet, and general attemps to be more active. despite making those sort of changes in my life, i started to think about death. it makes me scared. to a point, no matter what i do to improve my health it might not be enough. it has definately changed my attitude and perception of what i feel is important.
teeth to tongue
so simple, the shortest, the smallest…often the hardest. buried deep, tuck me in and sleep tonight. your words, my words…voices echoing, uttered quickly bellow it out, whisper it only for one to hear. tender sounds set off smoke signals circle around that which mean the most embrace and smother that first snowfall, covering head to toe. that first cold breath making a voice hard to find. ones that color me red, stir this stomach, like a sleeping volcano a town fleeing whether or not it erupts from those hills, whether or not it erupts from these lips.
explanation:
“i love you,” “i appreciate you,” “i’m glad you’re part of my life”…words i don’t hear nor do i say regularly. perhaps with family and friends it is seen as obvious or a given. however, what holds us back from speaking these words, letting someone know how much they mean to you? is it fear of putting ones self out on a limb like that, with the possibility of rejection, fear of feelings not being mutual, or that laughter will follow? is it that society does not nurture these forms of expression and does not deem them as important within relationships? maybe a bit of both…this is for family and friends who i will never tell enough how much i love and appreciate each of you in my life.
expect delays
this isn’t working, nothing moves anymore. when it rusts over and becomes immobile, will we keep working it over? unrecognizable at this point, but the masses have become attached. blindly they believe all that it stands for…what does it stand for? and will they keep us down, and will we keep us down?
explanation:
these words were written in reaction to america’s foreign policy and the fact that we, as a “united country,” were heading into afghanistan to bomb their country. i felt that at that point, when the bombing began, when the voices were no longer being heard, that we were truly lost. and again this feeling came when we (and i use we very loosely here) went into iraq to take the country by force and their so-called weapons of mass destruction. in a way these actions opened up the eyes of the public to the large holes that have existed in our government for years, yet at the same time many people seemed to just brush this under the rug and accept what had happened and what will continue to happen. and so we the people act by not acting. this happens all too many times, we allow those in power to hold us back, while we ourselves hold us back. it is clear that something needs to be changed in the hands of those in power. can we afford to sit back and watch? do we have the right to complain and criticize if we choose to do nothing? think locally, start small, make a change, write a letter, build community, express yourself….act now.
split 7″ with catena collapse – 2006

drawing in dirt
our leaders wear christianity like a policeman wears a badge, as a skill they’ve learned, as an authority they’ve been given. it is a definite set of values that they claim to adhere to, and a moral life they claim to be living. this christianity they use has lost the intent of its origins. this is not the religion of slaves; of hope to withstand hardship. it gains glory in global markets, and is the sound of sirens. these are creators of doom, misunderstanding the concept of god. they use god to serve them, and the altar has become a throne. the lions of old have not been tamed, but now the one called christian sends them out to gnaw on new bones. these christians read and recite, but tradition has removed the love from pages written in rapture. these are stealers of bread. these are murderers. those who allow their power, who usher in kings — they, too, are stealers of bread. they, too, are murderers. so, what will we draw in the dirt? how do we find those to trust with sermons of the people’s work? when rome is renewed, where will the captured escape? what will bring an army to combat hate? they stole god, and kill in that name. they maim, and attempt to dictate worth. we do not see that a savior came. so our answers must come from the earth. our god will be our love for each other. our church made of our sisters and brothers.
explanation
much of the american populace and power structure is currently deriving a moral authority based on what they claim is christian tradition. this is dangerous because it is increasingly bringing religion into american politics and policy, but, moreover, it is largely hypocritical and self-serving. if you claim that life is precious, you can not send soldiers to murder innocent people, and drop bombs on children. if you claim that ‘family’ needs to be preserved and sacred, you cannot disown your children for being homosexual. if you say that the last on earth will be first in heaven, why would you kill to stand at the front?
split 7″ with life at these speeds – 2005

montgomery express
i can hear music floating through the air. all sounds have been magnified. i can hear sunlight and the family dancing downstairs. the birds are humming like an orchestra in the air. i can feel music in my soul. i can’t see what you teach me. i can only feel what i already have. the click of an aluminum can. the tune of a wire stretched from the house to the ground. played by hand. the sound comes within my layers of skin. my senses have been elevated since the age of five. the muggy air of florida holds my songs and soul. i would sing until i cried and gave my passion. my speakers push air, nothing that can be seen. this movement has travelled past the geographic boundaries which i have set for myself. and to carry on to years i will never see.
explanation
this song was written after reading an article about a relatively unknown and seemingly humble jazz band from florida called montgomery express. what set them apart from other bands of the era is that the two band leaders, charles atkins and paul montgomery, were blind. i found the way that they described their elevated sense of hearing, due to blindness, very interesting. with less stress on the senses to hear and see, they would hear music in just about everything. the subtle sounds that you don’t typically notice are rythmic and symphonic. the mind always amazes me in making of physical and environmental adaptations. nothing is impossible.
footprints on floorboards – 2005

my hands hold fire
if i love one breath too much, and hold it too close, i will die in its depth. if i hate new air in my lungs, and push it out enough, that, too, will bring death. if i go too far, the road will become my home. if i stay too long, the weeds will arrest my bones. so, i breathe in and out. when i stray, my heart holds my home. i resign myself to my doubts. i accept debts, while happy to loan. if my hand holds fire, i better put it to use. if my enemy has water, there is no time for a truce. my body would burn before it trickled down, and there are things to burn with the fire i found: the actors body, and the schools he founded; the tower prisons, and the ropes we’re bound in. then, retire to the mountains alone, to look down on the fields. too old to help move the stones, but hoping things will heal.
explanation
at this point in my life i have many things pulling me in opposing directions – all with a sense of immediacy. instead of being driven to act in a particular way, i am more prone to being idle. it is frustrating, and i often realize that i am ill-equipped to find a satisfactory solution. in two realms this is manifested most acutely for me:
a. the pairing of my ever deepening/entrenching personal relationships with my desire to venture off to distant places, alone.
b. the desire to look optimistically into the future of our social/political landscape, and to feel driven to work hard to force that better future, coupled with the despair of the current and past social/political landscape(s) which threaten my hope that any amount of work can uproot what is in place.
help comes from the drive of others, the inspiration of those leading many charges, and conference with those who share hope for better days to come. i’m looking for balance. the joy of my friendships and family not being hindering of, or being hindered by, my desire to escape to journeys. the frustration i have with America in 2004 leading to action, and not idleness.
polar bears and cubs
as a son, as a brother, speak to you father and brother we speak the words we know, feel the ways we feel. we ran – barefoot among woods, reaching up like giants – fingers outstretched, brushing the sky. we don’t trade days like that in, left part of ourselves behind those doors. there are moments that never leave. so vivid, as if only this morning. a city which stole you away. cold april, can you remember it as clear? without warning, without notice to one. can’t recall the sound of your voice, or hand in hand. so tell me stories, help me to remember – you paint the pictures, sleepless nights, sparse words, streaks like rain – picked up our pieces to never fall apart. the three move on, grow on, remember.
explanation
i have always had a strong family connection throughout my entire life. it is something i hold dear to me and i look to this as a my biggest support system. in fifth grade my mother died after a long battle with breast cancer, and it easily could have destroyed any family structure that once was. luckily, my father never allowed my brother and i to stray away from the values he and my mother upheld. i have very vivid memories of parts of my childhood, while others seem lost somewhere deep in my mind, maybe to never be regained without the help of another. sometimes i feel like much of what i learned from and remember of my mother is lost, or only exists within me subconsciously, and it bothers me. many times my brother or father will tell stories and it excites me because it sparks my mind and takes me back to a time i can’t always recall. still in my life today i hold my father and brother dear. it is the relationship with them that has helped me become who i am today and have continuously helped me to grow through tough times.
only in dreams
i have seen you for the past four years, but not in a lucid state. i can close my eyes and see you. dial two. help you move in the rain. that green shirt hasn’t faded. four years have passed, but not a moment has changed. growing older, and living the same day. only in dreams can you sing to me. only in dreams can i hear you speak. when i wake up, i feel 20 years old again. only when i rise from bed do i realize that it wasn’t real. four summers have gone without the same life that provided so much energy. that barrier is distance and mental states. if i close my eyes i can see you. only in dreams can you sing to me. only in dreams can i hear you speak.
explanation
this song is both about someone close to me that i haven’t seen in four years and the way that your mind can put you in a place that is seemingly impossible to get to. i wrote this after experiencing a series of dreams that felt so genuinely real that when i woke up i couldn’t believe that the interactions that i had in the dreams weren’t real. i had seen my friend again. everything that happened in these dreams felt so real, even into minutes of my waking life. seeing someone in a dream certainly cannot be compared to seeing them in person, but in the end, what is the mental difference of a memory of seeing someone ten minutes ago compared to a memory of seeing someone in a dream that felt so real? at least you have the memory.
november’s unanswered questions
the little ones know more than we ever will. to simplify, stand on buildings and bridges and question why. we want answers and we’ve got so many questions.so tell me how these people could do this (she said), explain to me what you can’t simply explain to yourself. eight years to twenty six years, still can’t make sense of it, because what seems right and wrong does not fit outside of this room. imagination, sensibility, i’ve found it right here, in the heart and mind. given the questions of last night, given the circumstances. my heart is heavy, full and defeated. dismal because your words hit so true, and i was speechless. as if my arms were tied, as if all that left my mouth were to mean nothing.
explanation
the night of the 2004 elections i went to bed knowing nothing was going to change. although we had put on a mock election in my elementary class that day that proved change would take place, i had little hope that the next day would bring much. i woke up very early that morning to find out that all had stayed true throughout the night and we would stick with four more years of the same, if not worse. that morning i was approached by a third grade student in my class who bombarded me with questions. she was in utter disbelief of what had taken place and wanted to know how people could have elected him back in…”why did this happen?” she said over and over. i sat and listened to her, as she went through many valid points as to why this should not have taken place, but in the end i had no real reasons for her as to why the re-election went through. i was as confused as she was by the turnout. in a way i found comfort in the conversation and it made the dismal morning a bit easier to get through. she provided some reassurance, no matter the age, that there are sensible people in this world.
“it’s been a long time coming, but I know a change is gonna come, oh yes it will” -sam cooke
tracing portraits
The son of the slain man stands over the slain – feeling his power, like his father’s killer before him. His gun at his side -blood on his boots. Somewhere, his victim’s child becomes him. The daughter of assault must walk, alone, from the train. The same dark streets, her father’s former place. Only once did she not make it home. It took one night to lose the race. Drawing over perceived portraits, exit the sound of wind. Enter strange silence, like sleep after violence, while satisfied sleep, too deep to forget, still makes real of the imagined. The son of the son of the slain man is slain. His killer was born by blasts from two guns. The third wife to weep sees pain build in her son. A man hires six men to kill his great-grandson. The granddaughter of assault hears laughter. She wonders how to make that sound. Her voice has been built to be soft and silent. Horrors, taught to fear, will be found.
explanation
we live in a culture that seems, largely, to focus on the individual and the notion that individuals are responsible for their own actions. the individual benefits from her/his work, and she/he will suffer from mistakes. so, we tend to act without thinking about how our work, and especially our mistakes, will affect others. this song focuses on extreme examples of mistakes made, or crimes committed, and on how they affect family lineage from that point.
words through wires
trouble came to early, this morning as i rose from bed without knowing it. hung up that receiver and it whispered words i had never heard. gasped as i touched it to the body. your voice was conveying something i would be too late to realize. and yes, trouble has surely come for us all this morning. yet, i made it through the day oblivious of the trouble to come. again by ear piece, slowly dialed numbers to reveal the fate of us all. my ears too blind, eyes so deaf – now numb through the entire thing. numb or in disbelief? receiver slides from fingers to the floor. used continuously as just a messenger to hear a reaction over and over that would never quit. silence and terror, gasps and sighs, sobs and screams, tears and silence once more.
explanation
a day i never want to relive, a moment in time i will never forget. there are times in our lives that stick in the mind, that seem as only yesterday, and are chilling to think about. i received a phone call, one that i somehow felt was coming as i picked up the phone, and immediately as i heard the voice on the other line i knew what fate had come to us all. sometimes the voice on the other line plays like a tape recorder in my head on repeat. the feeling returns, and i wonder how this all could have happened when in ways it seems like a dream, or a nightmare for that matter. we all have these days, and they are things we never forget, reminders of how precious life is.
static
shut your eyes and check your pulse. are you still awake? are you still alive? thought to have fallen asleep 18 months ago. the blood is still flowing but not at the rate it once was. new ideas are developed and dismissed because they express something that is not universally thought. here is your dollar, here is my dollar. these are the same dollars that our father and his father have passed to the top to give them power. the buck stops here and i gave it to you. inspire new thought and a way of life, different from the american way. build a home on possibility not to be caught in the shuffle or live in a house full of missed opportunity.
explanation
after being at work in a corporate environment for a year and a half i began to see patterns in corporate culture that i hadn’t noticed before. ideas that i had were quickly discounted for little to no reason. the constant rejection of ideas that i felt were “good” began to slow my proposal of new ideas. this opened my eyes to the thought that this is the same throughout the corporate world, resulting in a population of stale thinkers with no desire to approach something new. as a result of this feeling, i spend everyday brainstorming ideas that could get me out this job without losing the stability of a paycheck.
green street
paced for success and to live in excess. time is running and passing. time is running and tiring on life. the voice of those that matter grow faint and fall behind. with the memories had held close and never forgotten. the wind hits my eyes so hard that my vision is blurred. it is hard to see the next turn. my knees are weak and feel that they should run at the pace set for them. to save myself, i must slow down. i may be late but i found what matters
explanation
this song was written after spending the day with my family and thinking about how important maintaining that relationship is regardless of the overwhelming feelings that come from work and everyday tasks. it is easy to get caught up in the mindlessness of a daily routine. unless that daily routine is how you want to proceed in your life, an effort needs to be made to take part in things that you feel are more important.
regard to structure
this speaks in measures, to last this long. a bridge built over years, rocks on their backs. it took long to construct and now we stand here – come rain, come sunrise. spring would strip us of all this, but not what stood sixty years time. nothing we could argue against, or not clearly see in the days spent. it echoes in the hallways, breathes life and assurance that intertwined it could last and did. seaport city, a family was born. two to five under this roof at different times. it would be simple to say this was ordinary. we find fire here, a flame in rain – spreading like wildfire. it could never be said, words were never spoken, certain that these lives were meant for one another.
explanation
this past june my grandfather passed away, almost unexpectedly. it was a strange time, and left our family distraught and caught off guard. it was hard to move on and no one is ever prepared for these instances. in the days and weeks that passed i thought alot about my grandfather and the times we spent together. i found an honest working man who came from little and was able to create so much with what he had around him. a man who always had a wonderful story for every occasion. along with this, he and my grandmother spent more than sixty years sharing their lives. the friday following the funeral was to be their sixtieth anniversary. sixty years spent with another person really makes you think about love, committment, endearment, and what it all means. two people who built a bond so strong that it could not be broken over the course of a lifetime. i am often caught questioning love…what is it? what does it feel like? how is it defined? i’m still not sure, and i’m not sure there will ever be one, but what i do know is that the example set by my grandparents is by far the best i have ever seen. a truly wonderful thing in itself.
with our ears to the soil
we held secrets here. this nest, these four walls, thin enough to whisper through. tiny ones often construct through sticks and findings. down the trunk, through branches, from branch to branch in which we in habited in different years. if you trace his back, study the markings, ones left by all here, if you look deep inside you can see them. you can feel them day to day. years pass, this nest deserted. removed or perhaps inhabited by others and all disperse,scatter like seeds on soil. and look again – roots withstanding that have seen them come and go, that entangle and connect from the smallest buried deep to those sprouting out, hands trace the history. through storms and stress, growth and giving, young sapling how we began, how we begin. if you listen closely you can hear life in this, breath and beating.
explanation
throughout the course of our lives we inhabit many different places…places we often feel comfortable enough to call a home. we pass through these places, sometimes staying for months, other times for years. and while living there we make our own personal marks along the way. we share our settlements with others, and share our lives with one another.there are many houses that i look back as defining points in my life. changes took place, laughter arose, tears were shed, lessons learned, secrets shared, embraces exchanged, and then we move on as simple as that. sometimes we revisit these places, through pictures and stories, and we hold them dear to our heart. we keep in touch with some of our old roomates, some we hold close like brothers and sisters, others fall to the wayside. either way, these places play parts in all of our lives, change the way we live and view things.
split 7″ with wolves

new teen craze
lyrics: blue screen, black box. static flashes. it made me who i am. it made a market. a new and vulnerable thought process. everyone’s got it, so why don’t i have it. something that doesn’t exist comes to life. a dream to many. that wastes a life away. natural beauty surpasses all that is within these static flashes of flesh and matter. everyone’s got it, so why don’t i have it.
explanation: these are thoughts that i’ve had when thinking about teenagers and the mass marketing which is geared toward them. this, in conjunction with the force-feeding of what big business media considers beautiful leave teenagers vulnerable to thoughts of inadaqecy and guilt that they haven’t taken part in society’s norm.
strike aloud
lyrics: when this boy becomes a man will it still bother him, still cower at any hand that rises? will he raise a son to raise a hand at him? is this in the nature? we can’t seal this fate forever, but the whipping hand is a constant reminder. the father and son are strained, confused if this is only affection. will this be the only physical connection? and she says, “it will be ok – we’ve been down this road before, it hasn’t changed, but we’ll keep trying.” and sometimes she says she’d like to leave and start all over. starined and confused. so tonight when the lights go out in the house, two beds sigh a sense of relief, that sleep will save them until the dawn.
explanation: these words came in reaction to a relationship i was witnessing on a day to day basis with a woman i worked with. not only was she in a relationship where she was being abused, both mentally and physically, but three children were also feeling the effects. when i found this out i couldn’t believe it. this woman was one of the strongest i have ever met, and yet the situation at home was a battle she should not have to fight, and one that was taking her and her children whole. i watched a young boy of 7 who was quiet, shy, scared, and internalized everything. the multiple relationships that were going on were confusing, and as an outsider who had been in an abusive relationship, i could see how hard it was to get up and leave, especially with children involved, but how badly she wanted to at times. this was a dead end to her, and the idea of marriage in this instance was not one of love, but almost being indebted. at the same time, i wanted to know how the children were doing, and what the realtionships were based on. was it thought of as love every time this boy was hit? is this how he would show his love in other relations? the story has yet to unfold and unfortuantely this is just one of thousands. it is so much easier as a bystander to tell that person to get up and leave than to actually be in their shoes and do so. today this family still lives together and i can only hope that times are better.
owsla records – compilation – 2003

dent instruments
lyrics: this is not our job. we will not hit. no fans, no mobs. we will not hit. forgive our failure to fit. we will not hit. we’ve forgiven ourselves. we’ve given what doesn’t sell. do not applaud the familiar. do not appreciate the chorus only after second verse. it serves to retard the addition of peculiar. tone to tradition should be terse. we’ve forgiven ourselves.
we’ve given what doesn’t sell. we will not hit. wait. prevent this saunter from growing to gait. relent, and ponder your ears’ fate and fear what you create dent instruments, and attempt to re-invent how we relate. lets arrange our own displays. put on our own plays. use our own tools to escape from cages.
explanation: a piece of music is as important as what the listener takes from it or what the maker of that music gains by doing so. sometimes the most important music is heard only by its creator. we are happy to make music in an environment in which music is accessible to all who wish to gain entrance, and where we determine what success is. this song is a thank you to all who support that environment.
monocore recordings – compilation – 2003

expect delays
lyrics: this isn’t working. nothing moves anymore. when it rusts over and becomes immobile. will we keep working it over? unrecognizable at this point. but the masses have become attached. blindly they believe all that it stands for. what does it stand for? and will they keep us down? and will we keep us down?
explanation: these words were written in reaction to america’s foreign policy and the fact that we, as a “united country,” were heading into afghanistan to bomb their country. i felt that at that point, when the bombing began, when the voices were no longer being heard, that we were truly lost. and again this feeling came when we (and i use we very loosely here) went into iraq to take the country by force and their so-called weapons of mass destruction. in a way these actions opened up the eyes of the public to the
large holes that have existed in our government for years, yet at the same time many people seemed to just brush this under the rug and accept what had happened and what will continue to happen. and so we the people act by not acting. this happens all too many times, we allow those in power to hold us back, while we ourselves hold us back. it is clear that something needs to be changed in the hands of those in power. can we afford to sit back and watch? do we have the right to complain and criticize if we choose to do nothing? think locally, start small, make a change, write a letter, write a zine, build community, express yourself….act now.
fathers and sons – 2003

don’t let this tie you down
lyrics: and on this death bed – sixty years from now will i want to live this life all over again. these last breaths, these last thoughts. these last breaths – these last thoughts spent thinking i wasted it all. months and years, working and paying, consuming each and every thought. not living for this day, but constantly for tomorrow. and when the last breath leaves the discontent will slowly consume with a life wasted on paper, market – surrounded by unfulfilled relationships and clutter. renounce tradition, the notion of how others have taught us to live. heart stops, life is fleeting, without regret.
explanation: my brother was in a troubling point in life, emotionally and monetarily. he described a dream he had to me of his life being consumed by never ending bills to pay. in a way this opened his eyes to the stress he was feeling and allowed him to reevaluate his position and what was important to him.
silenced through justice
lyrics: you tell me the same is so different, when did the same become so different, when did the same become so wrong? we live in the same houses, lead the same lives, hold the same values, yet we don’t share the same rights. words you may never hear, i take thee, i honor thee, i love thee, i do. words i’m not sure i want to hear, i take thee, i honor thee, i love thee, i do. not recognized for the life you live, not recognized for the love you give. let us be happy with despising what we don’t know, what we don’t understand, then ask questions later. dictate this lifestyle, assume the unknown, and still they will follow suit. when the dead are found and return home, still won’t be recognized. if you can’t live this way, then i don’t want to live this way. don’t ask if this is about the money, but to live how the rest live in entirety. and i’m convinced, that the foundations between you and me is the same between she and she. and i’m convinced that the foundations between you and me is the same beween he and he.
explanation: after the incidents of september 11th widows and widowers were honored by the airlines involved with the crash with a sum of money, a plaque, and ashes from the world trade center. people married, whether it be three months or three years, were recognized and their relationships were publicly made more valid than they already were. while this is a nice gesture – at the same time couples involved in homosexual relationships were never noticed – what they had built, some for more than 8 years, was not and is not given any worth to. sadly, homophobia exists at every level of our society.
heterosexuals are granted rights from the day they are born, ones that are often taken for granted. marriage and benefits that come with are just a few of them. homosexuals have never had these rights. same-sex marriage, at its current point, will never suffice until we are all equal. always question the rights you may or may not have and how it effects you and those around you.
an aberration
lyrics: letters fallen upon a scape. a character development. a scene so perfect could be further from the truth. an outlier from a normal spread makes a revolution. uprisings engage thought to many. create a deviation. make others think. make a change. make an impact. letters fallen upon a scape decypherable character development create a true perfect scene. the outlier that manufactures thought. the deviation makes a change makes an impact.
explanation: to put it simply, this song is about abmormalities. many people will tell you otherwise, but the world works because things are different. people work day in and day out to streamline and manage processes more effectively. the end result is usually a system that requires the least thought possible, as it was planned to do so. for these things to work ‘perfectly’ everything must be uniform and nothing can change. if it does, the system doesn’t work. in this song i addressed the non-’perfect’ element of the system. new things happen because certain people make them happen instead of continuing on the regular monotonous routine. at the time i wrote this i was thinking about graffiti a lot and used it for a metaphor in this song. some find graffiti to be eyesore, but when you come down to it this is an abnormality that may spark thought, whether it is positive or negative. something is sparked.
can you still see me through your rose colored glassess?
lyrics: are we defined by this body? can no longer live up to these constant paper cutouts.no longer can we dance this perfect dance. how is it that you feel that you can make me feel? and when it was removed did it frighten you to look, ashamed of your image? and you with the loss, felt you weren’t living up to expectations of being a man. we are fine, have always been fine.
explanation: each day we are subjected by media driven societal set standards. in my own life i can say that i’ve fallen victim to this. i have also watched those that i love
going through hardships only to be pushed farther because of the pressures and expectations they felt weren’t being met. no one should ever have to feel that they must fit into the measurements of a larger power. by saying, “only if i could look like that person in this…(fill in any form of media),” then we are allowing someone else to decide for us what beauty is. yet, this should be the decision of the individual. it is time for each of us to redefine what we see as beauty and let our voices be heard.
ancestry is relative
lyrics: perception is a mindfuck. what defines an eight. what makes one equal one. what makes none equal none. based on what existed first. having nothing to do with what is right or what should be. time can’t be defined. it only exists in our mind as a way to satisfy human nature and our thirst for an answer time doesn’t exist existance lies within perception where light changes with the day and tradition changes with the pass of information tradition determines the future of perception.
explanation: when you come down to it, time is something dreamed up by man and cannot really be explained. time is just a perception. yes, we have minutes and seconds, but are they the same to everyone. is the same second i live the same that you live? we all percieve things, not only time, but color, ourselves, etc… how do i know when i see the color green that you are seeing the same color i saw. some of it may be physical, but i believe a great deal is carried out mentally. this song is my perception of perception.
hello to goodnight
lyrics: hold your breath and count to ten. seperate me from you. when the flowers begin to sprout, when the flowers sink to the bottom. all connected to something larger, all reaching and grasping to you. now we wilt, we sleep for this winter. for months and weeks our guts are coming out. with and without reason. with and without connection. direct and indirect this hurts.
explanation: it’s impossible to fill a void of someone who was as close to you as a brother. the feelings spout out no matter if it was days after the loss or years later – it has been uncontrollable at times. how do we step forward to mend this, to something cannot be fixed? to find a feeling of content when it all feels so wrong? we miss you everyday – we hurt everyday.
night noise
lyrics: listen. beads of sweat glisten on the brow, before the bow, of the speaker under great lights. one white in the applause does indeed pause to njoy what i so desparately want to destroy. i want those hands to stop before contact brings joy to the specific ears of their prolific boy. those ears that filter cries of the abused into unused folders of night noise. well beyond the folding chairs holding stares of idle admiration tands the army of an unheard nation. they don’t applaud. i don’t applaud. no cheers from my peers for the speaker who is showing that we are weaker and weaker and without the power to create doubt in the masses of the power of the speaker who has garnered the cheers of the masses and the fears of my peers. of america the government i am not a resident, yet i do live in the land and stand with the people. the speaker is the president, speaking and not listening. sweat glistening, espcaping pores. the night noise is getting too loud to ignore. the night noise is getting too loud to ignore. power don’t listen, but through filters hear so yell and yell loud, enough to hurt their ears.
explanation: american leadership continues to be skilled at getting themselves and the citizenry to ignore dissent – thereby making the words and substance of enlightenment useless. however, they cannot ignore that the the marching drums and screams, from outside and below, exist. let’s hope that their fears are justified. this song was written out of a hope that our march and fight will someday cease en masse, in unison, and in victory – rather than in death from a national guardsman’s gun.
rich haven
lyrics: he sang freedom. over and over. like with tourette’s syndrome. incapable of stopping until the word itself sounded right. correct. with the will of the important people carried out through the most important structures, like richie, i feel like a motherless child. in four years i won’t be adopted. nor four more, nor four more years with the olive branch, toting the myth of participation and the magic of media. like richie i feel like a motherless child. but i have brothers and i have sisters.
explanation: as the elite george bush took the throne, many of us felt that it was a final reminder that we live in a nation without leadership that represents us. so what can be done? see richie havens’ woodstock performance.
order by border
lyrics: i know you want to think optimistically, but when there is nothing in the glass it’s not half anything, its fucking empty. we try to build an order, only in some chosen borders. we try to build an order, we’ll produce shells of mortar. we try to build an order, people go in rigid quarters. we try to build an order, a machine a people sorter. we try to build an order, a woman – nothing for her. we try to build an order, a black man working – nothing more. where do we live, what borders are ours. how do we live, alone or under powers. never could we stop, if shots were fired. turning would be treason. i am not a liar. just hope that i’m alive when i stop marching
explanation: we are living in a nation run like a business, like a factory. we are simultaneously the workers, the cogs, the ingredients, and the products. production churns out nationalism, xenophobia, and cultural norms that degrade and destroy. the force-fed optimism of reagan’s america still exists, and is still a myth. this song was written out of a hope that the bottom will realize their appointed position in america, and defy it.
tales of a first grade nothing
lyrics: speak softly, in my ear. lay awake in bed. thinner, thinner. age seven, and this is what troubles the mind. mommy’s solution, this child’s new year’s resolution. thinner, thinner still. young enough to be innocent, young enough not to understand, and get it all at the same time. speak softly in my ear, lay awake in bed. thinner, thinner. age seven, and this is what troubles the mind. seven years, and seven pounds. baby talk and all. thinner, thinner still. at the age of seven your feeling seventeen. thinner, thinner.
explanation: upon returning to my job as first year teacher after new year’s day, we asked the children what some of their resolutions were. a first grader, all of seven years old, said that she wanted to lose seven pounds. i was shocked and saddened. how could a child this young be concerned about body image? when asked, she said it was because her mother said she was too fat. whether it be society as a whole or individuals, we are forcing children to grow up too fast and troubling them with notions that should not concern them (or anyone else).
people mover
lyrics: lost control of my body. behind in the conversations i have. two steps ahead of my two steps back. a routine unbroken. sliding through the mindless task. lack of sleep or longing for the love i keep. to give up all i do would be so easy. to drop it all and be with you and all the others i love and see real meaning in keeping that alive along with myself. break the sequence
explanation: there is nothing profound being said in this song. it reflects how i and everyone has or should feel at numerous points in our lives. at this point i was making my commute to school, and following that up with another to work. everyday was almost exactly the same. i would barely have to think for my two and a half hours spent in the car everyday. i missed so much during this time. i missed what was truly important, the people i love. life is such a beautiful thing and unfortunately it gets wasted in work and school. knowledge is import, but we need to leave time for human relations.