Peace brought to the wrangling edge of my own being
I look and I find I search and I am lost
Keeper of secrets
So many evil ***** things lie in the recesses of my mind
I have forgotten more evil than most people truly consider
I have looked deep in myself
to see the wandering lust
that drives a community of mad
Yet mad
individuals
Women and men
who have found solace
in the darkest part of me
I take them all in
I care for the ideals they set forth
Yet they are lost
into the echoed chambers
of my mind
Each time I grow
Each time the line falls away
I see you all again
wandering deep inside there
Seeing some of you wandering
makes me consider
if what you spoke
was ever true to you
this is the lean season
where the weight of the world
is my weight
when I begin to have grand delusions
where I picture atlas
and think….
he and I are kin
quiet kin
begotten of Sisyphus…
ha! Leave no stone unturned
upon the landscape
from which you feed
each stone is mine
in this Sisyphus-ian dream
none to small
none to great
all things compared
I will wear this stone and road smooth
before too long
Each thing in its place and time
And to each place some time
I correlate the strain
that is blinding me
Looking for a cause in the universe
A common event
that brings down
the true space
That simple cell
that would surprise everyone.
I was given this exterior for many reasons
None I ever consider
I look upon it’s hues and textures
and consider many an item.
Cara de nopal
hecho de piedra y hierro
Lomo de Pipila
Con alma
esta alma
tan
Perdida
Feb 23, 2010
Feb 23, 2010 at 9:31 PM UTC
Peace brought to the wrangling edge of my own being
I look and I find I search and I am lost
Keeper of secrets
So many evil ***** things lie in the recesses of my mind
I have forgotten more evil than most people truly consider
I have looked deep in myself
to see the wandering lust
that drives a community of mad
Yet mad
individuals
Women and men
who have found solace
in the darkest part of me
I take them all in
I care for the ideals they set forth
Yet they are lost
into the echoed chambers
of my mind
Each time I grow
Each time the line falls away
I see you all again
wandering deep inside there
Seeing some of you wandering
makes me consider
if what you spoke
was ever true to you
this is the lean season
where the weight of the world
is my weight
when I begin to have grand delusions
where I picture atlas
and think….
he and I are kin
quiet kin
begotten of Sisyphus…
ha! Leave no stone unturned
upon the landscape
from which you feed
each stone is mine
in this Sisyphus-ian dream
none to small
none to great
all things compared
I will wear this stone and road smooth
before too long
Each thing in its place and time
And to each place some time
I correlate the strain
that is blinding me
Looking for a cause in the universe
A common event
that brings down
the true space
That simple cell
that would surprise everyone.
I was given this exterior for many reasons
None I ever consider
I look upon it’s hues and textures
and consider many an item.
Cara de nopal
hecho de piedra y hierro
Lomo de Pipila
Con alma
esta alma
tan
Perdida
"cara de nopal" is a commonly used expression in rural Mexico used to describe people who couldn't be identified with any other ethnicity or culture so "Mexican it hurts"
"hecho de piedra y hierro" translates to made of stone and iron
Con alma - with soul/spirit
esta alma- this soul/spirit
tan- so (in this context)
perdida-lost