Since this is a platform first for my business, I try to keep spiritual/political/inflammatory things from here. I typically fail in an epic sort of way. However, as many of you saw on the sociable networkings this week, I — a soon to be twenty-five-year-old man — came down with THE SHINGLES. I capitalize it so it feels like crappy horror film from the forties.
I’ll spare you the details and the complaining.
INSTEAD
I’m posting lyrics from a song I discovered this weekend. Sharing it for four reasons.
- It refreshed my soul when I was down and if we can’t share what moves us, then what are we doing?
- The 20th Century Poetry post was well-received by some newcomers, and I think the last half of this song does some interesting things poetically as far as song lyrics go. The first half’s not that great, but it’s necessary to set up the end.
- Last year, I changed the subtitle of this blog to “Crossing Every Threshold.” Though you all will one day find out how that fits into my novels, I try to cross the lines people put up to divide one another. I’m not talking about petty edginess or rebellion. I just know all kinds of people and care about all kinds of things. Under that assumption, this is just one more threshold for us to walk across together. You might be surprised at what you find.
- I typically care little for this band, but for songs like this we have a song-lyric book market. I’ll save the band name till the end:
(On form: I recognize that the punctuation, capitalization and spacing are interpretive moves, but I think I treated their work with respect).
Oh my God
look around this place.
Your fingers reach around the bone
you set the break, you set the tone
flights of grace and future falls
in present pain, all fools say
Oh my GodOh my God
Why are we so afraid?
We make it worse when we don’t bleed–
there is no cure for our disease.
Turn a phrase and rise again
or fake your death and only tell
your closest friend
Oh my GodOh my God
can I complain?
You take away my firm believe
and graft my soul upon your grief,
weddings, boats and alibis
all drift away and a mother cries:Liars and fools, sons and failures,
thieves will always say…lost and found, ailing wanderers
healers always say…whores and angels, men with problems
leavers always say…broken-hearted, separated
orphans always say…war creators, racial haters
preachers always say…distant fathers, fallen warriors
givers always say…pilgrim sings, lonely widows
users always say…fearful mothers, watchful doubters
saviors always say:Sometimes I cannot forgive,
these days mercy cuts so deep.
If the world was how it should be
maybe I could get some sleep.
While I lay I dream we’re better–
scales were gone and faces lighter.
When we wake we hate our brother,
we still move to hurt each other.
Sometimes I can close my eyes and
all the fear that keeps me silent
falls below my heavy breathing.
What makes me so badly bent?
We all have a chance to murder,
we all feel the need for wonder.
We still want to be reminded
that the pain is worth the plunder.
Sometimes when I lose my grip I
wonder what to make of heaven
all the times I thought to reach up,
all the times I had to give.
Babies underneath their beds,
hospitals that cannot treat ‘em,
all the wounds that money causes,
all the comforts of cathedrals,
all the cries of thirsty children—
this is our inheritance.All the rage of watching mothers—
this is our greatest defense:Oh my God, Oh my God,
Oh my God.
Lyrics from “Oh My God” on Gather and Build. For those disinterested in that, here’s a consolation prize from xkcd:
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PPS> I edit, write and fix your story for free on May Day!
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