The space we each hold as the single brick missing from the tattered foundation is neither an enthusiastic lightbulb, nor a wounded elk, rotting to the sound of the birds.
It's my favorite portion of dinner, The determined phone cords wrapped around my weightless ankles, and the child in my head skipping stones on a purple, moonlit lake
We are uncomfortably wet grand-masters of the sandpaper landscape, Making sense of that nameless, empty space.
architects.
Author: ahmo
0
Date: 07/12/2019
№ 942384
Weird takes on the architects
They build and call them tower blocks
, They're concrete rockets to entomb us then they'll blast us into space.
This race is no race for old men.
And when we're our there gravitating towards the dying sun They'll have us playing parlour games, Gee whizz Oh lord What fun.
But we're catching on to their games and the things they're going to do, you'll get older one day It's time for you to catch on too.
They're building seismic sidewalks That tremble when you talk
They're building hell out in Lahore
Hell That's been done before.
They're spending billions on defence while a million people starve There's meat upon the table, but There's no one left to carve.
Past Closed up pizza joints Past laundromats, through the dying noise The nights tick on like clockwork Watch the calendar as my steps unwind
I'll wait for my thoughts to ferment Pick my words, hope I don't slur them. Flip back past the page of these days Get a read how I got to this age
From the summit where I'm stuck and posted Reread the books where I come the closest From the shelf spill my guts to ghosts here, And relive old nights in Bozeman
When I found a place Where the nights grew longer-- Grew confident that I wasn't always wrong And just drank the moon Under dawntide tables Rolled the dice with the greatest friends We said, "We're not old yet. "
Through Crumbling bones at night Past skeletons of the city's size The nights fall out like sand grains Curse the hourglass as my fate unwinds.
I'll wait for my brain to discharge Its contents on hospital charts. Glued the book shut, stuck in the time I gained my crutches and misplaced my mind.
From the bed that I'm fucking glued to To cluttered basements I can't wade through The foundation just won't hold up Against the cracks formed in Missoula.
Ran off the rails Where I stumbled and stammered Grew comfortable beneath pint glass hammers I still drink the moon Under dawntide tables Grown apart from the greatest friends Who said, "You're not dead yet. "
We... Are The Architects of Our Fate We build the walls All these gates We construct solid walls They take them down Let them fall Then look around For Solid Ground Until it's found I plant my feet
Take a seat Share a story Of honored Glory My Father was a Carpenter A Master Builder they would say And I see his buildings Every day Arts and craftsman My kind of build Houses filled Engrossing skill Amazing will Holes were drilled Handhewn milled Beams Intricate details
Imparted to me You can see By carving Wooden Weathered Leather hands
It's good to admire Though I do not aspire To live in one now
I miss the farm In simple charms A time exsist my memories
Queen Abigail of Chelsea A border collie She was our dog Willamina a hog Or the name of a pig Rooting earth she'd happily dig A silly gig She never was a meal Her funny squeal Saved her life
Had a horse named Cochise No wool from lamb That we could fleece You could not ride But would stand on hind Legs And beg For marshmallows!
I miss the Farm All the time It taught me Life is worth living To keep on giving What I can.
Silent voices will open the sky. Desperate tentmakers will be comforted. With rain from above that different from the usual. Embrace the flood, go with it, collide.
Dont trust your international instinct. Dig, dig, dig it out, search your heart. There is something inside of you.
I know that youre in the battle now. Between your inward and outward being. You have been defeated by your flesh and desires. Learn how to be giant over it.
Look at the days, the deadline has been set. Dont allow this chronic noise disturb your silent. Energize yourself and ignite your senses. The grace has been poured out.
Come, lets eat the word and drink the right one. Truly, we will not dismay, we can stand firm. The truth will guide us into the road to eternity. This path has a signature printed by the Creator.
As the hour goes by, this will be our nature. We will set this city on fire, burning hot. The biotic and abiotic will know Him. And acknowledge Him as the Maker of all them.
Clap your hands, you low self-esteem kids. Put your trust and believe that you will be deliver. In all your ways acknowledge. And He will make your path straight.
