François</h1> <article> <h1>François</h1> <p>kripa — Sun, 14 Oct 2007 05:11:14 GMT</p> <a href="http://people.tribe.net/kripa/blog/40c94379-222f-4e7a-8ad2-52e75e53c631"> </a> <div>In those bleeding moments between his first drink and the time the band begins, He sits by himself at the bar barely glancing, as patrons trickle in in 3’s and 2’s and rolling a cigar now between his thumb and fingers he slowly sips pear vodka and wonders if the two might linger tight like the mingling of jazz piano with the clicks of a wicked tap dancer and he looks to the strangers around him at the bar perhaps to find an answer. The band starts up and lays down a sultry groove that tastes like strawberry smoke Something in the song reminds him of a painting he once saw in San Francisco So blue in its hues the “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” he believes it was called The sweet residue of an empty promise, a parody in paint placed upon the wall Just like those notes that were scrawled and stolen: his be-bop sheet music from 1937 Mildred Bailey, “I’m Nobody’s Baby” and his mind meanders back to London In those bleeding hours between restful sleep and the dawn, he lies awake watching Her chest rise and fall as she slumbers and he wonders if she is worth the aching Light breaking through a crack in the curtain now, he rises to find his clothes And ponders how much longer it’ll last, with the ground all covered in slush and snow The awkward way his lips wrap around “I love you” he says nothing & silently slips away Another unfinished song, something he should have done, he tells himself this is the only way The band wraps up and last call given, the drummer buys just one more round He raises his glass and slowly sips it, as the sweet medicine slides down The back of his gullet into his frame, as if to ease the stink of lonely Is he the hunter or the hunted in this twisted game or is he simply the only One who sees it this way, a cold, aching burden to be here in San Diego When his love long gone, that unfinished song, has become just a face that he’s known So many bleeding months between her warm embrace and the crisp chill in the air tonight He pulls from his pocket another cigar, nips the tip, timidly asking for a light So many sad stories and unfinished songs desperately dance in these distant eyes The way streams of smoke accentuate his words, clearly he believes his subtle lies And as the burgundy glow of the bar behind caresses the night like a velvet glove This artist finds the truth unwind, his masterpiece is this song of unfinished love </div> </article> <article> <h1>Nothing Stopping Us</h1> <p>kripa — Thu, 27 Sep 2007 04:38:59 GMT</p> <a href="http://people.tribe.net/kripa/blog/14584dea-7975-4b9b-bf22-773432dd31a0"> </a> <div>Its never gonna be the same This chance arose and a window came So we shed skins and passed on through Adhering to change when her winds blew And there were so many times with infinite chances to let ourselves awaken But when the music changes switching dances which path have we taken You see I want the light, I want connection so that my darkness slips away And yet its integration and not rejection that brings unity into play So many times I've been to blind to see what I've had till its gone and then I'm Left alone with the eternal tone of the silence behind the song But when the haze has cleared away and I can finally see the ground on which I stand I'll be so amazed at the part I played on the day I let my heart expand As the Heart expands we begin to understand That we're all hell-bound for the promised land And the seed of light within your soul, Like a bird takes flight as the petals unfold And the breath will rise and the dream will fade We'll all take off our disguise at the masquerade So If it be said you can't speak it in part You got to open your chest and show 'em your heart Because It is in everything... The purity that is divinity Seven days a week seven generations generate creation Elevating awareness about the reciprocating bareness of simple respiration I sing to thee to ever be a drop of dew returning So whats stopping you from burning Or keeping you from turning Into a new being who's seeing what's freeing From the limiting myths about riveting gifts Of Likeness, and worth and resurrected rebirth? BE BORN EVERY MOMENT ANEW... There is nothing stopping you</div> </article> </main></body></html>