G r e y i s m• Show poetry

eucharist

Second round before the count , the gloves went off, we both went down.
Blindsided by the distance you were just in reach.
I watch the towers fall on your TV.

Burning Hands and stumbling eyes,
we hold our own then compromisse.
I just want to begin again, just to live in our own skin.

I think its kinda strange, we get so close we get
estranged. We get so close we get estranged.

Forty days and forty nights,
Noah watched the river rise.
You flood again, I go for wood
all our years misunderstood.

we get so close we get estranged.

-

Walk into mass the ceilings high with loftiness and lowered eyes.
The sound of choirs, a slow caress, to cover wounds my heart has dressed.

A Lover's quarrel, all in duress, I fold my arms for eucharist.
we fell in love - we got enmeshed, bless me father I'm a mess....
Bless me father I'm a mess.

~Robert Deeble (check this singer out on myspace!)

.....

she says "wake up, it's no use pretending"
i'll keep stealing, breathing her
birds are leaving over autmn's ending
one of us will die inside these arms
eyes wide open, naked as we came
one will spread our ashes 'round the yard.


~ iron and wine (sam beam)











we lie under anesthesia
our wit and wonder snuffed
in a routine operation
our own beauty not enough.



~ Suzanne Vega, "Edith Wharton's Figurines"








The white light is artificial, and hygienic as heaven.
The microbes cannot survive it.
They are departing in their transparent garments, turned aside
From the scalpels and the rubber hands.
The scalded sheet is a snowfield, frozen and peaceful.
The body under it is in my hands.
As usual there is no face. A lump of Chinese white
With seven holes thumbed in. The soul is another light.
I have not seen it; it does not fly up.
Tonight it has receded like a ship's light.

It is a garden I have to do with —- tubers and fruit
Oozing their jammy substances,
A mat of roots. My assistants hook them back.
Stenches and colors assail me.
This is the lung-tree.
These orchids are splendid. They spot and coil like snakes.
The heart is a red bell-bloom, in distress.
I am so small
In comparison to these organs!
I worm and hack in a purple wilderness.

The blood is a sunset. I admire it.
I am up to my elbows in it, red and squeaking.
Still is seeps me up, it is not exhausted.
So magical! A hot spring
I must seal off and let fill
The intricate, blue piping under this pale marble.
How I admire the Romans —-
Aqeducts, the Baths of Caracella, the eagle nose!
The body is a Roman thing.
It has shut its mouth on the stone pill of repose.

It is a statue the orderlies are wheeling off.
I have perfected it.
I am left with and arm or a leg,
A set of teeth, or stones
To rattle in a bottle and take home,
And tissues in slices—a pathological salami.
Tonight the parts are entombed in an icebox.
Tomorrow they will swim
In vinegar like saints' relics.
Tomorrow the patient will have a clean, pink plastic limb.

Over one bed in the ward, a small blue light
Announces a new soul. The bed is blue.
Tonight, for this person, blue is a beautiful color.
The angels of morphia have borne him up.
He floats an inch from the ceiling,
Smelling the dawn drafts.
I walk among sleepers in gauze sarcophagi.
The red night lights are flat moons. They are dull with blood.
I am the sun, in my white coat,
Grey faces, shuttered by drugs, follow me like flowers.

~Sylvia Plath, The Surgeon at 2 A.M.

Check the Meaning- Richard Ashcroft (a highly underrated singer)

When I'm low, and I'm weak, and I'm lost
I don't know who I can trust
Paranoia, the destroyer, comes knocking on my door
You know the pain drifts to days, turns to nights
But it slowly will subside
And when it does, I take a step, I take a breath
And wonder what I'll find

Can you hear what I'm saying?
Got my mind meditating on love, love
Feel what I'm saying
Got my mind meditating on love, love

(The human condition)

Too much blood, too much hate, turn off the set
There's got to be something more
When Mohammed, Allah, Buddah, Jesus Christ
Are knocking down my door
I'm agnostic getting God, but man
She takes a female form
There's no time, no space, no law
We're out here on our own

Can you hear what I'm saying?
Got my mind meditating on love, love
Feel what I'm saying
Got my mind meditating on love, love

[Check the meaning]
[The human condition]
[Check the feeling]
[The human condition]

Guess it's life, doing it's thing
Making you cry, making you think
Yeah life, dealing it's hand
Making you cry and you don't understand
Life, doing it's thing
Making you cry now, making you think of
Pain, doing it's thing
Making you cry yeah, making you sing

Don't say it, don't say it's too late
Don't, don't say it's too late (It's never too late, it's never too late)
Don't, don't say it's too late (It's never too late)
Don't, don't say it's too late

The human condition, the big decisions
The human condition, the big decisions

I'm like a fish with legs, I fell from the tree
I made a rocket (check the meaning), I made a wheel
I made a rocket (check the feeling), I swam the ocean (check the meaning)
I saw the moon (say a prayer), I seen the universe (and beyond)
I see you (check the feeling), I see me (check the meaning)
That's my reality
And while the city sleeps we go walking

It's a beautiful world
And when the city sleeps we go walking
We find a hole in the sky and then we start talking
And then we say "Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ
Buy us some time, buy us some time"
Hear what I'm saying
Can you hear what I'm saying?
Can you hear what I'm saying?
Can you hear what I'm saying?

It's gonna be alright