Calypso

Verse 1 (*spoken):
Possibility dripping from the lips of this calypso
the vision of beauty that fully shipwrecked my arrival
of the oceans no mortal man can be the master
and on this voyage a single misstep would spell disaster

siren songs calling us closer, rowing faster
any glint of gold or thought of home no longer matters
then she arrives, my eyes blind but heart enraptured
I’ll use the racing blood in my own body to write this chapter

something collapsing, something abysmal
I am an infidel, and this division is visceral;
the men will waste away and graze like sheep in pasture –
grab the asphodel, these holy flowers by the fistful

Chorus (*sung):
I will
never get old
if I speak with my lips, and sing with the sea

I know
from the depths of me
in the cave of her heart, I will never be free

Verse 2 (*spoken):
this island is both prison and home forever after
so I sink deeper into her dark eyes and her laughter
trapped in the description of the position of her lips
no handhold, no railing, only her hips

I’m overboard, overtaken by the waves
eyes are flashing in the night, heartbeats that ricochet
a new and radical understanding of her fissures,
her nervous system, perfect facade of features

your endless hunger, endless thirst for me, a chance I’ll take
find me blindly chasing midnight for the morning’s sake
vocal chords at the bottom of a lost lake
let the catechism of my consciousness reverberate

Chorus (*sung):
I
will never get old
if I speak with my lips, and sing with the sea

I know
from the depths of me
in the cave of her heart, I will never be free

Verse 3 (*spoken): 
I am your servant now, your prized possession
time will balance out the weight of my aggression
i will adorn you with the thorn of my attention
until the morning when I see through your deception

until the evening when I bury my beliefs
and soft moon brings my sky sweet relief
deafened by the resonance and the reason in her pleas
the longing in her fingers and the scent of olive trees

my hardened heart sails onward to the islands,
and hope is buried deeper than the place that souls of sailors go
a sentence dripping from the lips of this calypso
becomes a fist ripping through the chest of this concerto

Chorus (*sung):
I
will never get old
if I speak with my lips, and sing with the sea
I know
from the depths of me
in the cave of her heart, I will never be free

I
will never get home
I beseech with my lips, and beg to be free
I cry
from the cavern of me,
burning rage in my heart, cursing the sea.




[circa 2012. Hear the full audio version here: https://birdsofcray.bandcamp.com/releases%5D
[image is The Storm by JMW Turner]

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