1. |
the sleep blue
03:52
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We grieve in our past homes. Hum it wakes you. In the sleep blue. Search, ramble, pray. Not a thought to cling to.
Gone it travels in a non-responsive echo played.
Upside down. Arrested heart on the floor. Folded arms and ballooning core. It’s what you’ve left, kept as you wept. Let it out as a moan. Come and take it with you.
Long before the sway of the ocean pressed our bare knees into wave forms. On computer screens long before we made more of stories than simple truths.
Haunted home spill grace as solution, rest between leaves and through dream floors. Love incite our urn plea moss then corpse. Sleeping shore pressing lung bleeds as we mourn.
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2. |
light through the window
03:36
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Our light glows out. Climb up distant hills, half closed blinds, grieving birds.
They will swim for hours. Her leaking heart spill. The earth hints call somewhere else.
My fear is that you wouldn’t try in spinning towards that burning sky. Cry with me. Cry with me and just say nothing.
Our tides grow fires. Her screaming travel through lead steeped lids in vapor shells. Sewn of felt inspired. Creaking heart tells. Lonely binds glimpse somewhere else.
Is something else out there? Because this is all I see.
Another thread from out the woolen sea. Life silent whisper rustling these dreams. Mumble past our ghost as a draft. Light through the window. Attempting to let nothing change. Molding into the same. I do not wish to feel out loud since that day of the lost and gone.
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3. |
soul blind
04:58
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Things we love in people. They are not beautiful. They are absurd and contradictory. These are the things that bring us peace. Garments clutch our needles. You are still beautiful. In grieving words we drape as pleats and dreams. They are the things which bend our knees.
Soul blind and receive in endings. This is where I see wind in the darkness, that serene starkness. Fear, hyperactive lethargy. Restless, tired welcoming in our death flows out dreaming shallows.
It lights the underside of clouds reclaiming night. Sky of fears in light do change in time.Though not tonight. We sway and strike as flint in hands. Just don’t die, Just don’t die.
As dreams we hide to speak our mind, shake in thoughts of clouds, type and send, delete them again. This dust make us blind, hide lonely inside, iron steam of grief, lathe in crows, peck and beak.
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4. |
cursed algorithms
03:56
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Hold up in space. There’s a light we can’t reach. Disjointed it clears the need. They rise just as spectral dreams. It held everything in your arms that can be. Fracturing hue display. A loss within gusting steam.
In thought I was blind. Won’t sleep through the night. Inside of this violent mind. Soul terrified. Curled up in our chair. My heart is on fire. Ensanguine light.
Unraveling life is a drawn suffering heat. Halls in past ghostly beams crawled out thawed frost and tree. Hands, body, they fade, drum blank colder paint. We’re all gathered sullen ground in vacuums blink eye remains.
Searching for a melody. Clay of bees that stir mourning. Burning as a flame of trees. Sways in heat that curl the leaves.
We are the rhythms in a carriage. Beyond the bridge we re-create. Are you lonely? Is the ocean calling? Antique paper pray we’re longing. Cursed algorithms joined in marriage. Tears, mud, the sticks, pulse, hesitate. Are the souls lost mead? In our drowning, soft bay strand stillbirth of mourning.
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5. |
speak to ghosts
05:12
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In the woods light shy away. Grow in a moss green living loss. Inside the way grief play. Turns out it's much easier to speak to ghosts of the dead than the living. It comes from carrying belief for all these days. Belief that the living are the ones that are listening. It breaks your heart in a new way every day. And though I may understand slow are steps that press course in the sand.
The heart's a box not a landscape. And I know this now. It's why we plead our whole lives for the key. And when the trees bend to shape the sea. They hold on to you and me. In what do we trust? If we're the ones that made it. If those who loved us most never return. In who do we trust? If we're the ones that make it. If those who love us most never return.
(There is a sound caught between us, one that lived in the ocean too. There is a way to attune to blue if only we need it not say anything. It leads us into togetherness. It tells us and keeps on telling it. There is a sound caught between us, one that lived in the ocean too.)
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6. |
hum
04:04
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No matter how far from the ocean I defer to its judgement. Support clouds beneath sky.
If I do sink, spare me the ink, squid and story, that we all have a grip. On some moving ship, against the curling sheets. Sailing into mystery.
Hum, soothe and join hands. Is this the after gloss? Caught in grief’s rain as it passes. Wet oily nails wept that dive like ravens. In our mud and sticks, standing pressed, clay our fragrant grasses.
(When in mourning all you can think is dance in the lobby, wall to ceiling mirrors, you can hardly manage to move, the silence a groove, in a crushing tune, half your body painted blue)
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7. |
dissolve up in forests
04:47
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Familiar fables. Fauna and flora. We sing through out for it. All of time a chorus. Our bodies of earthly fauna our souls a universal flora. In death our flesh grow it. In rebirth our hearts spread over the weeds and dead. In blood’s fruit they'll nourish, plant to feed and store it. Uncertain we forage. Dissolve up in forests. These leaves are held locusts. Catch clean water for us.
What will we do now that all we held dear is gone? What will we say as we pray in our graves?
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8. |
famine of spirit
03:49
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Why do we create? Are we lonely? Is the ocean calling? Or just an empty craving for belonging. Hunger, the flesh we are born in. Famine of spirit. The ghost of suffering and friendship. Our father’s eyes end. Waves they begin in mother’s light, will flicker untethered.
Hand drawn we recede. Dry and bleeding. In dead ashes falling.
Fills us an empty phrasing for our longing. Wonder the mesh we are shorn with canyon air clear it. The ghost flows. That flutter one way trip. Our father’s arms dig graves that will spin. In mother’s mind we’ll flicker forever.
We are born in famine of spirit, the ghost of suffering and friendship. Our father’s eyes end. Waves they begin. In mother’s light will flicker untethered. We are shorn with canyon air clear it. The ghost flows. That flutter one way trip. Our father’s arms dig graves that will spin. In mother’s mind we’ll flicker forever.
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Ian Hackett Kahl Berkeley, California
Ian Hackett Kahl is a solo indie/syth-pop artist, formerly a member of the bands PEN, and TIN RIBBONS
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