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experiment #4 The Great Wound and the Wild Joy Part B: Another Log for the Fire

by theillalogicalspoon

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1.
feel feel feel, feel feel feel again feel feel feel, endure hardship as discipline feel the sun beat on your neck so another has some shade feel the burning in your legs so another has a seat in time your skin may come to crave collision with the elements perhaps combat your ghostly hue imbued anew with earth pigments now free sleeping in debris hut you'll repent that thin world you once blogged awakened senses they cut the veil to texture enter where you've longed your blood and breath and bones and flesh and life your blood and breath and bones and flesh and life Spirit and Earth and water and fire is life Spirit and Earth and water and fire is life speak with the animals and they will teach you let the birds of the air inform you who among these does know without the body there's no soul? feel feel feel, feel the thistle and the thorn feel feel feel, Spirit enters where they've torn felt it approach. sought Job, "oh," he said "sit under red Grandmother Oak." she spoke "you'll often meet crossroads. engage these conflicts in your soul but burn them 'get well soon' cards! spurn all the, easy hopes from your heart just let them biting briars grow see! my kids rise where you don't mow and they'll feed you as you get old: acorn-manna falls, behold! though you go alone take courage against cold conformists like brother sycamore, shed your layers for to feel how will you ever know what is real unless you truly sense." your blood and breath and bones and flesh and life your blood and breath and bones and flesh and life Spirit and Earth and water and fire is life Spirit and Earth and water and fire is life speak with the earth she will teach you let the fish of the sea inform you who among these does know without the body there's no soul? run run run, circulate your breath and blood run run run like me, sings wind, before your time is done my friend run like the white tailed deer my son o daughter like coyote darting 'cross the prairies, hear them old ones sing they sees signs of a new ice age approaching there will come a day of need when you must move like breeze on feet without a car weaving through the weeds or deep snow very far through our ruins past what we called yards you may have to fetch the healing herb from yonder mountain side or deliver message far off camp must hear that they survive scout a route into north country find where the enemy hides and the training now is tough but brave ones what if you give up? and the training now is tough but brave ones what if you give up on your blood and your breath and your bones and your flesh and your life? O your blood and your breath and you bones and your flesh and your life? There will come a day of rest but right now we are alive! What will happen to your tribe? What will happen to your tribe, if you don't know your gift to bring? Even a log for the fire, it would help you people sing, through this dark and arctic time, What will happen to your life if you have no tribe to dance with? only cold and lonely nights. That's a question you must ask. What will happen to your life if you don't know your skill to serve? What will happen to our lives if we don't grow and we don't learn? Lord have mercy, may we learn.
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Tree of Job 20:14
“Dark was the night Cold was the ground” Far off to the forest We followed the sound. Found the fen felled then renounced Only one tree now around The marooned old man who moans, beholding Knowing what is going down Larch on loam here once grown Now the bones are ground to compose A house to house the owls And all whose lamentations now arouse the growls of wildlife brave by “midnight special” bright Hear the howls of wolves I think I might-- Guards pump and strum electric light A-buzzin’ strong, invades the night Our vision blurred but still we strain To find the word remaining in the vine Whose sap is wine Oh cover my blood Oh cover my blood, oh earth May there be no rest for the cry of my hurt Turn not away from my face Turn not away from my face Of open wounds You see some have come but would not look Under the light of moon They spoke with holy words Each one was a tooth of a saw submerged Tearing at my trunk “take it out!” I say But the blood stays on the blade The blood stays on the blade The blood stays on the blade Underneath his branches the worn prophet slept sound with ease like mounds of leaves Or pyres of lies and death The truth and pain icicles hang from Job’s hands He stays awake, death of the world to demonstrate In haunted heartwood heavily stays Honest about the miseries of our age None can now assume we’ll see a new day None can now assume we’ll see a new day We acquiesce to this rhythmic agony Accept the tension with much wrestling in melody The assimilated optimists how they all agree Sayin “ain’t they a hopeless lot” “Nothing our movements would want” “no surely not” “It’s absurd to spree with morbidity, we’ll flee, and hug our happy thoughts” Then out of the shadows of the forest The afflicted and the stricken join the chorus of awe and anger light the spark lain latent In the assembly of the suffering servant Assembly of the suffering servant Assembly of the suffering servant Begin to dance though hobblin’ and swervin’ (Documentary on Potawatami who were relocated to the great plains from the great lakes.) so now face our flame you froze frown of pain This gift lifts snow to mist sends the spring rain Mm mm mm mm mm mmm Come ship of storm our fury forms to Affirm faith bold, play the horns We hold these sorrows evident For the joy before us sent Mmmmmmmmm Now welcome round our ring to sing and scream Warm your strings your lyre is right to raise red fire Is it sadness? No! its raging desire and love! Now learn the tale the trees have known Don’t fear the abyss you’ve been shown Your groaning will echo the earth’s own And our urgency will grow Mmmmm Soak this thread up in your bones Juxtaposed with the word That you heard when God stood and said this is good it’s the place that we come from God’s poem to God’s works And its where we shall return to For the heart of this earth is good mmmmm it is good mmmmm it is good Ooooo It is good Ooooo It is good I believe in the future we shall suffer more! frawny face reflected in the water in the way Fall through I’m free to feel new and fey To a soul sung song, oh washtenong sepee Baptized in this dirge down deep and dirty Born new now formed you, thou town glum and gritty You’re born into blues when you’re born in this city. How goes the world? Not well! But the kingdom comes! But the kingdom comes! And if you cannot hear it Hope shouts “No!” unto God’s silence The bells of the apocalypse toll for thee My eyes were closing due to freezing Prison city will not be thawing Guilty of everything, approaching the end Bells of the apocalypse call for thee The lame will take the plunder and the wild will reclaim! Come thou spirit sabotage our hearts so technified (a wild and spirited horse now rides to the gates of heaven where the rider cries) It is time! It is time! It is time! It is time! It is time! It is time! It is time!

about

“For there is hope for a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that its shoots will not cease. Though its root grow old in the earth, and its stump die in the soil, yet at the scent of water it will bud and put out branches like a young plant." -- Job 14:7-9

credits

released January 20, 2018

Band:
Aaron Wilson - trumpet
Ashley Elliott - Violin and Vocals
Ash Dasuqi - Keyboard, group vocals
Billy King - bass, banjo
Cory Stuart - bass, group vocals
Jeremy Siegrist - Acoustic Guitar, Vocals, Percussion
Jessica Campbell - vocals
Jim Judge - drum kit, percussion, group vocals
Joshua Siegrist - percussion, group vocals
Morgan Blizzard - flute, vocals
Pamela Williams - group vocals
Paul Kofflin - accordion, percussion, group vocals
Ryan Wendt - electric guitar, group vocals
Steven Landis - banjo
Timbre Cierpke - harp

Produced/engineering by Scotty Krueger
Recorded at the Collapse House in the Irish Hills of southern Michigan in February 2013.
additional vocals tracks, and the entirety of Deer Path recorded by Billy King at Frog Holler Farm in the Irish Hills.

anti-copyright 2018. no rights reserved.

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