for the victims of orlando 6/12/2016

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you are my strength, but I am weak
maranatha

i’ve given up some times when I’ve been tired
does it move you?

i’ve fucked it up so many times
alleluia

i’ve found my home in bablyon
here in exile

by Pádraig Ó Tuama

from the myth of redemptive violence,
lord deliver us

from the ugliness of racism, homophobia, and hatred in all its forms,
lord deliver us

for the unbearable toil of our sinful world,
we plead for remission

for the terror of absence from our beloved,
we plead for your comfort

for the scandalous presence of death in your creation,
we plead for the resurrection

for the lives of brothers and sisters lost to an unwillingness to understand,
we pray for absolution

for those whose illusions of comfort and safety have been shattered by a man they’ve never met,
we pray for comfort

lord have mercy
christ have mercy
lord have mercy

I Could Not Stay

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It seems for me lately, that every day is a new beginning. That’s how quickly things are changing in my life, and how often I feel I’m letting go of one idea to make room for new ones. I’m looking everywhere for answers I haven’t heard yet to questions I’ve always been asking. I’m constantly allowing new perspectives into my far-too-open mind. I didn’t just open the door, I tore it off its hinges. You might not see it from the outside, but inside my head, there are loose screws everywhere; puzzle pieces thrown about, reshaping themselves, and choosing at random what other pieces to attach to; blue-prints bleeding ink and forgetting what instructions they were supposed to be telling me to follow. I probably won’t stand to be like this forever. But right now, I embrace it. Because I asked for it. I said I wanted to know the whole truth.

This is also the mind-set I was in when I traveled to Seattle in early May. While I could not stay, I kept the feeling of new that I felt while there, and in order take a better look at where I had already been living, took that feeling back home with me. Turns out there was just enough room in my suitcase, and there was more than enough room in the body of my guitar.

Here’s a song I wrote while staying in Ballard with my good friend, Brian. He is also the creator of this website, and I want to thank him for inviting me to be a contributor. Cheers to him and to everyone else who is or will be involved as well.

—–

“Ballad for Ballard”

Are you welcome?
Are you thankful?
It’s a start
It works like any game

Pick your pieces
Spin your numbers
Win or lose
You’re playing just the same

Find your reason
Sink your teeth in
Make your mark
Remind me why you came

More of what you’ve got
That’s all there is to gain

Was that you in my dreams?
Making roads out of walls?
Was that you making scenes?
Making flights out of falls?

Making flights out of falls

Keep it simple
Keep it sacred
Shed your prudence
Don’t abstain from me

Strip me down
Until I’m nothing
What you will not show
You cannot be

Find your reason
Sink your teeth in
Make your mark
Remind me why you came

More of what you’ve got
That’s all there is to gain

Was that you in my dreams?
Making songs out of breath?
Was that you making scenes?
Making life out of death?

Making life out of death

Find your reason
Sink your teeth in
Make your mark
Remind me why you came

More of what you’ve got
That’s all there is to gain

-William Bloom