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"Cactus" - Eloise Klein Healy
"In the nursery I always go to the cactus first,
Who are they anyway?
Old ghosts perhaps you meet on their own terms,
Then I leave them,
And walk into ferns,
Cooler heads, and palms,
Long arms and secretive,
I circle,
If this were love I'd be thinking,
"Opposites attract"
Cause I'm back at the cactus counter,
fixed on someone called "Goats Head"
But what did that poet say,
The one who was holding a woman so high off the ground?
Something about tenderness and love?
When I look at the cactus in my hand,
My hand carefully raising the green plastic cup,
I think love is the spines,
The spines that curve and radiate,
In parallel lines,
Love is how close you can get,
And even bleed,
And even want to pick it up again."
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2. |
Nebraska
03:15
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Almost drove into the 405 divider,
Took too many scans to my right,
What unease projects onto me brighter,
Found its home nestled up tight,
The couple next to us made out for days,
Quickly learned to ignore my side,
Resting between godspeed and haste,
A sense of brevity might've sufficed,
A caustic wit drowned out the tension,
internally my insides were dry,
Bruce Dern took on his lone desire,
While bleakness reigned over mine
And I can't breathe,
Frankly, I'm past the need,
Unencumbered by this point in life,
It's no stretch to look out wide,
The scope of your laugh prized aside,
It took me a moment to resign,
Midwest planes bowed to misled gains,
A drive from Billings might take two days,
So what if I know how to drive the back way,
Your house only counts if I can stay,
If I had a chance and with it some stakes,
I'd hedge my bets to lay it down and stay,
But my guess is as good as any others,
Sometimes rested hearts still delay
I can see,
That's just as it should be,
And I can see,
Sometimes life just lets these things be
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3. |
Blankets
04:21
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Your stone is an unstead wave,
Stand alone ripple made,
Of a piece with letting go,
Of those lasting drears,
Standard fate appeal,
Grown by time steered clear,
Wondering if adjustments,
Should be made blind,
It's just so warm in here, the air is like blankets,
Taken for what it is, the times are changin,
Not just falling back, no we're springin forward,
It's just so warm in here,
Tomorrow I think I'll sleep in late,
Train my tines to relate,
Bordered on by bowered wants,
To guess what's in your best interest,
I'll upstage a direct appeal,
My strange attraction to what feels real,
Stand as stone overcome by,
Wrecked nerves finally released
It's just so warm in here, The air is like blankets,
Taken for what it is, the times are changin,
Not just springin' forward, no We're fallin backwards,
It's just so warm in here
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4. |
Shedding Feathers
02:50
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I can't let things go,
For it's well known,
Hawks don't share with their own,
Borne to let dreams walk,
Despite my wish to lock,
In the time I waste on all others thoughts
How do I set aside my lines,
To fit into all others designs
How can I lean on through,
When keen eyes spy,
The ruffled feathers shed to let me fly,
From above perspectives all new,
Where to go when you undo,
The chains that had only grounded you
How does this letting go feel,
To understand life's moving appeal,
To what's apparently not always real
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5. |
Head Swimming
04:00
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Grab a second's notice to steer me,
An apple unfurnished to disagree,
As if a sigh was news to read,
For a long performance hesitantly,
For another night out act cooly,
Arms folded cross to hear distantly,
A song about strong swimmers,
Caught up in the wash's return
And it dawned on me that maybe,
This when broken down caters,
Less to what's real than what's found,
The DJ riffs Adrian Orange's singing,
Plays dub to all my head's swimming,
A benefit to those who need to numb,
It's mutual to sometimes feel undone,
Your quiet look can knock me down,
Making sense in smaller rounds,
In my own way I tend to run,
Pulling back when I touch solid ground,
And it came to me that somehow,
To turn, to stay, to learn, is the only,
Way I'll float up to discern
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6. |
Gathering Moss
04:00
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Casting off all belief and going it alone,
By gathering moss and weighing heavier, leaves a mark,
I've aged my self a bit, forced in measure to what I am prone,
I brace and mar that I find foundation in an upturned rock,
Yet I still stay blue
Reach the back end, wound my head up in another stage of youth,
Groom the court for the walk of less rapport, sore yet tuned,
Frank in details, shy for lessons about time's let loose,
An act of progression, a minor possession without grace accrued,
Yet I still ran to
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New Balance Los Angeles, California
Balancing the terror of being alive with the wonder of living.
New Balance recommends:
The Sublime Sculpture of Being Alive
by Media Jeweler
The first album I've heard in quite some time that accurately reflects the modern state of being. It's scary, it's beautiful, it's overwhelming, it's comforting, it's everything.
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Don't Let This Define Me
by La Bonte
Wonderful heartfelt rock songs that touch on themes of religion, divorce, and rebirth. Well worth your time!
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An album that upends my expectation for it with every new song. Wonderful songwriting matched with ornate production, this is an album the you learn more about with every listen.
go to albumIf you like New Balance, you may also like:
Stirring alt-pop with a focus on heartrending vocal melodies, the new LP from Nicholas is riveting from start to finish.
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The Bridge in The Mountain's Hands (A Travelog)
by Haotian
Combining Chinese folk music, ambient, & spoken-word poetry, Haotian has made a gorgeous, enveloping travelogue.
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Here in the Pitch
by Jessica Pratt
On her fourth album, Jessica Pratt blends up 60s pop and bossa nova into a spooky mix of soft psychedelia.
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