the poetry of esteban folsom

 

AWAKE

awake at sunrise the day begins
reach for a smoke
climb into my skins
cause i work on an ice farm
yes you heard it right
i grow that cold ice
from morning to night
then i sit back
to take it all in
exhale the smoke
climb out of my skin
and sleep just to dream
of blue ice again

 

EMPTYPAGE

awake at sunrise the day begins
reach for a smoke
climb into my skins
cause i work on an ice farm
yes you heard it right
i grow that cold ice
from morning to night
then i sit back
to take it all in
exhale the smoke
climb out of my skin
and sleep just to dream
of blue ice again

 

FACEOFWAR

i'm going up on the roof to see what i might see
it could be i'll see a city , a diamond under sea
or maybe i'll see a moon and a heaven filled with stars
and i'll wonder what this might mean
in the face of wars
in the face of war
i stand stone cold dead
i didn't get a chance to thank you
before the bullet hit my head
i'm going round to all my friends
going to whisper in thier ear
saying thanks for coming closer
cause you knew the end was near
you knew the end was near
looked in my eye said goodbye
you won't be round no more
and i to you
i said it too
we will not meet again
and so it must be
for ever more
we shall part as friends
we shall part as friends
i'm sure that's what you said
but then again we might never know
now that we're off to war
we soon just might be dead

FIRST

first there is the thought
or first there is the wind
second is the sound of words
on which these hopes are pinned
third there is reflection
like the moon upon the sea
fourth there's realization
that all this speaks to me
a whisper in my ear
a little light ahead
there is nothing i can't endure
i'm sure that's what's been said

 

I HAD

i had every thing i wanted
a quiet place to work
a space to fill
with pure sweet notes
in shadow i could lurk
but then the shades flew open
the daylight it poured in
little did i know
i was to fly
into the sun again
like icauras
my strings melted
like him
my heart did dim
and in the same-self fashion
into the sea i swim

 

PRISON

well back in the prison
of the pen and page
these thoughts have arisen
i filed relentlessly and
died of old age

 

WHYISIT

why is it as hard as i try
and it happens every time
i can not write four
lines in a row
with out some kind of rhyme
all the stories i'll ever tell
will never reach the end
every attempt i've ever made
back to the start they bend

 

ZEAL

epitath for a nations zeal
sowed the seeds for the real
new one world order like from space
no nasty lines
for her figure
to disgrace
no armys
standing
lying
buried
underground
no opposition needed
and never any found
we all must look
out for each other
that's what this lifes about
it's there in the waves cascading
and in the rooftop shout

 

VOID

the void is not empty
it's filled with light
of this i am sure of
with all of my might
the world is troubled
as i rest tonight
half in darkness
somethings not right
the day will break
the sun will rise
and i'll see things
through different eyes
i hope that my visions
not clouded by doubt
peace among all of us
is the only way out

 

six days in the making
and i thought i could rest
biding my time
judging damned from the blessed
when all of my children
get put through this test
the poison's been swallowed
no antidote known
now i'm so sorry
now i'm alone

 

 

EMPTYPAGE

the empty page
wide and deep
as a field
harrowed with
dirt turned up
ready for seed
plenty of light
a little rain
all they need
for a thought
to arise sustain
and recede
a few clouds
moonless nights
the heart will bleed
in solitude
in silence
before the mind
is freed
out onto the earth
up into the sky
to the end
of the universe
i'll hear the
endless cry
i was too busy living
to ever think i'd die

 

 

hound
(for zoot wilson)

he might scratch and growl
as he turns round and round
he might howl at the moon
a lonesome sound
he might sniff down the wind
homeward bound
he might run not turning back
never found
the endless hound

 

 



estebanfolsom@madriver.com

 

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