1. |
Rolling Cinder
05:06
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And this gust of wind will sail the rage of a thousand voices that grind a wage / unfit endless stacks callused hands will make / to ample deep pockets for a name with no face / for I am a man of blood, bone, and flesh / can you hear me? / I will regress in a time I must confess / can you see me? / the power of my hands will not be oppressed / you will know me / soon you will sear in the blaze of my heart / you will feel me / an effigy for everything, you'll will be torn away / from the slightest hair to the tumbling brick, you'll will be tucked away / suit covered rooms to ash cloaked twigs, you'll be swept away / howling sirens call forth black bloc serenades / cast me away / we must make haste / cast me away to a far better state / the clock is set and dense hours drop / August's bark frays, refusing to stop / why can't I except ordination? / why must I harvest discontent? / they're all just words, dig-biting words / but delivered swift will cause a shift / they're all just words, dig-biting words / take form of a bullet to kill end's wit / take my hand and i'll set you free / guiding through walls of humanity / take my hand and breathe through me / for these days of rage will quench our longing age / we will feel it all through our fingers / forget how we used to be / the way things were, the way we see / forget how we used to be / the way we see, the way we speak / I want to be more than hard hands, more than flat feet / I want to see more than hash skies, more than paved streets / martyr fear.
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2. |
South Paw
03:16
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Slave to a paper's make / maid to a purging pen's wake / duets dueling script for a marriage's sake / this forgoes the teach of tongue's age / surpassing time which we have drawn / only to redefine again a sense of long / a feel of culture, a touch of past to present converging for another / it is this craft I shall covet / it is this skill I shall summit / time killing time forever more / time killing time; the flick of my quill I become more / time killing time forever more / time killing time; it leaves me here wanting more / and if my work proceeds me / let my mediums stand beside me / for it won't stamp the mark of man / but outstrip our hollow make at hand / time killing time all we want is more / time killing time; it leaves me here wanting more.
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3. |
Sonnet #.1
04:49
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4. |
The Red Door
03:53
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Wash me over from Red to White / pat my head, what's yours is no longer mine / clean me up from cuffs to hems / ravel away all familiar threads / we are to meet the needs of pragmatic motion / and quench curiosity of a proletariat lesson / to become what i'll never want / and strive to what i'll never be / is something only a absent heart can see / they have pulled me away from baring limbs / shoved off; rubbed off; and unhinged / but just beyond that quiet hill, you can teach them / through those insufferable window seals, you can see them / just beyond those Sherman gates / they are sure to lay me / braids thrown to the floor / you can't silence this.
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Agosto Espías Riverside, California
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