1. |
Festering
01:14
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Juggling responsibilities, roles, work/life balances, highs and lows, do’s and don’ts. Don’t just stand there picking skin, twiddling thumbs. Reason is racing thoughts around the inner bone curves of my skull.
My head cavities, thoughts pressed in recesses, blacken and wear through to the other side. Pick and scrape the decay away. Demons escape and break concentration. If they’d ask, I’m fine. Mistake my wisdom. I’m just telling lies.
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2. |
Proposing Decomposing
01:38
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Sit and wait. Don’t know how long this will take. Shoved outside the shade with a sharpened knife between my shoulder blades. My life not flashing before my eyes, scroll intimate details and moments that make me feel alive. My skin boiling blister bubbles, splattering secretions. Puss eruption: skin splits, bones expose. How long can I stand here with nowhere to go but back? Sink the blade in where my heart attacks. Let me fold into a pile of bones. There’s nothing there and nothing left and I don't want to go back.
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3. |
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Let’s take a walk in the rain. Yes, you and me, brain. Hopefully the falling water can help wash today’s scum away. Dripping through my matted hair, I hope it can reach my ears and infiltrate the surface. Some say getting caught in the rain is ill fate, but I’ll take it this way; better than in the cage they call an office. A two-faced guard and his hostage. This profession is restricted from being beneficial by the liars and the devils who type at large tables and speak with empty purpose. Money lovers lie. Money lovers die.
Thieves call kids, "Kiddos," of all age as if their endearing term qualifies for care. We get it’s a business, but I won’t accept it's the best it can be. High turnover clues: raise the profits, move the workers, leave the kids. Climb through a jungle gym of twisted policy and excuses while they sit atop the monkey bars, whispering in ears, information barred, taking charge, throw shit and eat ticks. Read this and eat shit!
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4. |
Dematerialize
02:04
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The pressure in my ventricles: Swollen soft tissues flex and fill. Puffing out like inner fat lips. Smooth to touch, but blood volume builds.
My lungs sink and drown, suffocate with painful breaths. Abilities shrink, bronchioles callous and leather together like a beach-going elderly couple. My brain coated in sugar, I seek for sweetness, but it will quickly harden and restrict movement; turn black like tar and embarrass me and stick with no feathers to fly. Compress me inside out: distorted, twisted body. Time travel warps.
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Earthbook Toledo, Ohio
Earthbook is the solo project of Mark Gorey (Take Weight :: High Draw)
This is my
Earthbook: a sonic expression of journaling, traveling, describing, inspecting, & dissecting life on Earth through artistic/poetic songwriting and documentary-style concept albums and odes.
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Earthbook recommends:
Full band Earthbook morphs into Oak Heart
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Have some fun, punk!
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