More Secret Writings & Preview album Corbae (Laine) Love, Compassion, Night. #music #poetry

OTHER Corbae Previews here
For #LCN Album Corbae (Laine) Love, Compassion, Night.

 Lyrical notes for my current track I'm working on ..

[ Corbae (Laine) - xxi - (take it) from me, to you ]

its what you take
take it from me
that you are wrong

its what you say
about the way
we should have stayed

its all but gone
the light we shared
the way we stared

into the sun
and burned our pride
for all the times

we'd thought we won
but should have run
we should have run

into the sun...

Thanks Guys
Luv Laine

lyinghere lyinghere 

Get a quick fix for some #Poetry or some #thoughts ! check out my previous tweets @lyinghere or my http://lyinghere.blogspot.com

Secret Writings & Preview album Corbae (Laine) Love, Compassion, Night. #music #poetry

Corbae at lyinghere.com

OTHER Corbae Previews here
For #LCN Album Corbae (Laine) Love, Compassion, Night.


 Lyrical notes for my current track I'm working on ..

[ Corbae (Laine) - xi - Stories from the End of the (long) Day ]
< you should trade (the girl for the day) >

and you won-wonder why
I did not, say goodbye
as you walk, walk away
from the life that we have made

it took me too long to say anything
anything
it took me so long to say everything

it took me too long to say anything
everything
it took me too long

so you'll stab out the day
to erase what we have made
and you'll miss, passing by
all the times I've said goodbye

(well)
it took me this long to see that everything, everything
was changing at the edge of this day
it took me too long to see anything, (that everything)
was changing at the rush of your game

it took me too long to see that everything, everything
was ending at the edge of this day
it took me this long to see anything, (everything)
was mending all the choices we've made

< you should >
trade (thegirl for the day)(the girl for the day)trade(the girl for the day)(the girl for the

day)

hope you're enjoying the week Everyone!

lyinghere lyinghere 

Get a quick fix for some #Poetry or some #thoughts ! check out my previous tweets @lyinghere or my http://lyinghere.blogspot.com

20 minutes ago Favorite Reply

Last Days of Summer - Corbae & (1)NS update

Many things on the go, this last quarter has seen some good progress and I'm looking forward to a few things, like launching (1)ne Night Stand on October 1 2010 online release in the flash tool Issu and free pdf download, then completing the remix of Corbae - Eviscerate Ante.Meridiem & Post.Meridiem. PM will be up for sale soon on facebook and nimbit by November anyways. I'm still having issues setting up a free download of AM off the lyinghere site, but I'll figure it out.

With the release of (1)NS it will be web update time, then its gonna be focus on recording & design projects.

The acoustic LP Corbae (Laine) - Love, Compassion, Night, I have been writing on my guitar on the front porch since early May. Looking forward to putting the sounds to vocals, its a big challenge for me, but thats what I live for.

Then a combo of music & poetry > Corbae - d3mons EP and the Graphic Poetry Book bedtime for d3mons. this will be a crazy mix of art, design, words, pohems, and fiction. its plot oriented but its a very short story I'm writing for a handful of characters.

Anyways, this is just touch base kinda message.
more news shortly.

love,
laine

quote from the Eviscerate Cover:

This is now the twenty-first century.

Fascinated that we are living in the twenty-first Century, however saddened we
have no daily space transit, no spinners, no androids or robots to do our
bidding.. this left us with music, that in nineteen forty, would sound like
'future music' should. Being in the future, doesn't make us accept it better.

Yet I find much of this 'future music' primative, tribal, speaking to our bodies
and spirit.. and nothing like the missing rocketships from our back yard.

These are non-ordinary moments.. never is this moment the same as that moment.
Nothing is ever repeated. We are never the same person, never the same body..
nucleotide division, celluar consumption, protein composition all tell us that fact.

Even staring at objects in space, trying to ascertain their purpose, the chemical
composition in this yellow paint, or the metal used in that sandwhich wrapper foil..

we're in a time of humanity no one wants to be in, but we all need to accept
where we are now. As only when we accept and acknowledge this,
can we work to change it.

Try to eviscertate reality in every moment.

This is for all of us living in the twenty-first century.

+laine+ © 2010

100 Days (wrap up) #100DaysofPohems #Poetry

Thank you everyone for reading 100 Days of Pohems!

It has been a great and successful challenge again this year. I'll be back at this next march 2011.

In the meantime, production for two e.books to be released this fall, (1)ne Night Stand and Bedtime for dƏmons is under way. I've pretty much decided to launch all this just off Lyinghere.com so keep your eyes peeled for updates.

Corbae is getting some wrap up soon. Have a few final cuts coming. No video updates as of yet. Also working on acoustic tracks for the new LCN album and hoping for early release 2011. As a side note, looking for some little gigs with a few companions this summer, will be good to jam and get some more experience in before the year is out. Hoping to do a small EP release for dƏmons when it comes time.

Working out details for a non-profit painting project this fall, so hoping to hit brush to canvas this August.

enjoy the summer and keep me posted with more of your feedback and updates
thanks everyone

much love
+laine+

[ .two.hundred, by.one.hundred. ]

[ .two.hundred,by.one.hundred. ]

i

swear, I saw the world, at midnight, in its real and fleshy work, where the summer light, all but gone, imprinting on the facets of each face, brushing back your ear, the hallmark crowd, the wolves all weary, the boys are marked, as the dark comes on.

ii

know, that we saw the world, at midnight, it's all on, taking bets, where the underground is calling, now, from its toothy maw, unsaited at the end of day, as the running wolves, work the crowd, and blaring boys, are cut down, in the black out heat.

iii

love, where we woke the world, at midnight, just before, the weight comes on, the breath, holding back, from the traffic lights, insight, that the neon marks the worth, the work, that spark that pulls us, up and out, wolves in the crowd, where we are down, as it breaks the late late, and bright boys burn out the night sky.


© Bryan McLean July 3, 2010
100/100:2

[ .all.weight. ]

[ .all.weight. ]

the all start fray, quickened to the pace, long passed longing, the wild side for wolves, all vicious in their natural way, the flirt, the fall, the ever minding way, they work, stirring early from their front door slumber, the whirring in time, to the frothing mouths, and sharpened tooth, grasping for your pulse, as lovingly they sway you, held to their breast, and set to devour, inch by inch, every morsel.

© Bryan McLean July 2, 2010
099:100:2

[ at.night,the.secret,lovers. ]

[ .at.night,the.secret,lovers. ]

undercover, where lovers lay, on sides still working, in the low-low candle light, the clandestine operations, of mouth on nape, nuzzling the lines that run the length of torso to hip, each gasping maw, hungry and filling up, with the pulse of heat, palms playing out, vicious and inviting, as all eyes are glowing, in the deep gloom.


© Bryan McLean July 1, 2010
098/100:2

[ .last.day.of.june. ]

[ .last.day.of.june. ]

the set so brilliant sky, works all the words in blue, as the flowers hold, and the footsteps fold the pavement, under toes, still longing for the heat, on the last day of june.


© Bryan McLean June 30, 2010
097/100:2

[ .the.working, deadmound. ]

[ .the.working, deadmound. ]

hours, finding this muddy site, hallowed near dark, plant it, the shovel spills. by horn & hoof, the hungry maw exposed, the heart shoved mouth, paper thin lips reach right around, choking it down. all is ready on the deadmound, body bound, certainly cannot be free, not from the circle cast, only the head, is all that's needed. the girl straddles the sodden corpse, cantos too old for ears, salt spilling in over the wire. say it, say it. need one word, just one. all of this working, just to wake the sun.


© Bryan McLean June 29, 2010
096/100:2 dƏmons

[ .open.mouthed, we.breathe.harder. ]

[ .open.mouthed, we.breathe.harder. ]

as the stutter of silhouette shifts, the green glowing diamonds, now almonds, birds, or boxcars, race each other, over the rails of grass, the tint of cheekbone, as skull tops to the trunk, we watch the canopied atmosphere, through branches shaking the pilfered cinema, showing out numbered, as we churn comedy from tragedy.


© Bryan McLean June 28, 2010
095/100:2

[ .in.living.echoes. ]

[ .in.living.echoes. ]

somehow all I hear, are sounds in living echoes, hearing distant chimes, down the silent sleeping street, thinking of you on foot, eloquent so delicate, missing each footprint you leave.


© Bryan McLean June 27, 2010
094/100:2

[ .the.working, on.the.dark.road. ]

[ .the.working,on.the.dark.road. ]

heading north, into the rain and wind, heading bound and buried, as the calling pulls, as the swelling is clearer, its ready in remix, the tape deck, switch out, switch on the haywire running, as the gravel gives way, and the cutting cutless fumes black clouds from its gutter mouth, and its hellfire redeyes, burning along the skirt edge,
of the black highway.


© Bryan McLean June 26, 2010
093/100:2 dƏmons

[ .caught.on, to.the.fall. ]

[ .caught.on,to.the.fall. ]

and in love, we fall, with serene surrendering, to seasons lost and conquered, contemplating all the little details, flowing in slow motion, as we catch our breath, we cup so close to breathe, autumn not far off, the leaves, all but ready,
to fall at your waiting touch.


© Bryan McLean June 25, 2010
092/100:2

[ .steady,cruise. ]

[ .steady,cruise. ]

steady as she goes, as twilight sparks, marking memories, salient sounding, as the late light cruises on, our out-calling tempest, atrophied in the painted skies, held high, your searching eyes, searching out the warning signs,
that marks the ending of the day.


© Bryan McLean June 24, 2010
091/100:2

[ .at.night,the.rain. ]

[ .at.night,the.rain. ]

my heart beats for you, my rain, my love, sloshing waters underneath my skin, the haunted footsteps, splashing down the hall and hark, marks the breathy wind outside, hushing your neck and nuzzle, as the raining march gets you further inside me, running down, running through all my parting hairs, all harrowed, are my ever loving lies, leaking through walls, my plaster, the touching fingers running cold, the rain all drumming, at the glass, beating frame and fracture, my heart beats for you.


© Bryan McLean June 23, 2010
090/100:2

[ .six.twenty.nine. ]

[ .six.twenty.nine. ]

six.twenty.nine. a.m. dotting the stitched lines in the pillow creases, the the crushing thunder starts me, starts the pulse of day, only marking the daylight, the breath of dawn, so unexpected, the lines run from eyelid and maw, as the dreams break in the streak of sun lined light, and are lost in the instant that birthed them.


© Bryan McLean June 22, 2010
089/100:2

[ .words,enough. ]

[ .words,enough. ]

am strong enough, to hold the ocean, in spite of, the wearing way,
your laugh, still pulls, my insides out.


© Bryan McLean June 21, 2010
088/100:2

[ .leave.me,standing.here. ]

[ .leave.me,standing.here. ]

wheels are turning, words are churning, heavy on your mind, your mouth gone dry, when you try to say my name.. the context of this wake up is reminiscent of any break up, where you just don't want to move and its all happening in its own time, morning gone.


© Bryan McLean June 20, 2010
087/100:2

[ .carry.on. ]

[ .carry.on. ]

feel my body broken, the planks bore siding, shingle all the lines, and the curves missing, beating, scraping at my bow. handles missing, and nothing to carry me on or over, to breach this reef.


© Bryan McLean June 19, 2010
086/100:2

[ .guess.it.was,her. ]

[ .guess.it.was,her. ]

your catalytic past, fading into the night, as the highway pulls away, like the film in your gage, in the ways that you sway, oh in the ways that you sway, always.


© Bryan McLean June 18, 2010
085/100:2