1. |
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|
Notes written to myself,
keys to forgotten doors,
pencils without points:
In this open drawer.
Funny bent paperclips,
a ball of rubber bands,
all the bills we’ve paid:
In this open drawer.
Hidden in a corner,
a handle rarely pulled,
straining on its hinges,
a bottom bulging full.
Beneath the empty wrappers,
push the past aside,
I don’t know what we’ll find:
In this open drawer.
Once we used it a hundred times each day,
for finding things to use,
or putting other things away.
It could be a bore, or something more.
Garbage can or book?
Do we dare take a look?
In this open drawer.
|
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2. |
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|
Questions never asked
words I was about to say,
but then those moments slipped away.
Trips we never took,
I see your face, your silly grin
in all the pictures you’re not in.
And I know,
we never tried.
The truth was how much I wanted you,
but instead I lied.
Would it rip
your world undone, to know
that when we were together, we weren’t two but one?
Tell me, tell me,
What I wanted you to say
before you went away.
So many holidays
Made for noisy family
Instead a table set just for me.
Wondering aloud
Composing such a lovely song
that everyone would find so wrong.
I don’t know
What you’d have said,
If I’d told you living without you was
like being dead?
Could the world
we’d see above?
by sharing what it brought us, and bringing to it love?
Tell me, tell me,
What I wanted you to say
before you went away.
Tell me, tell me,
Why was all that waiting all that I could see?
Tell me, tell me,
What I always knew…it was up to me to tell you.
|
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3. |
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|
As we stepped off of the floor
I knew for sure there's something more,
a gentle charge left in the air.
Words you said still bounce off the walls,
everyplace your shadow falls upon my couch and chairs
it’s like you’re sitting there.
And I know you said, you wanted to play it cool,
but everywhere I look I can’t help seeing you.
Oh, something more.
A hint of your perfume
where you last touched me.
And some day I’m going to stop,
stop waiting for you to come back to me.
And get you out of my head.
And find you holding me close instead.
Being along isn’t the same
(Chorus: Something)
when the dripping faucet speaks your name
(Chorus: Elsa),
over and over again.
(Chorus: Over and over and over and, er, over)
Turn out the lights, sit in the dark,
(Chorus: Weird)
I swear I can see the spark
where we just said goodnight.
Can you see it, too?
(Chorus: Huh?)
Oh, something more,.
a little house that’s ours.
Where we’ll raise our kids.
Oh, some day, we’re going to start,
start, well, livin’ like others do.
Doing, er, stuff that’s, um, great
Elsa, dear Elsa, I can’t wait!
|
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4. |
What A Discovery
01:49
|
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5. |
||||
|
Sometimes, I start to wonder
why I don’t float into space.
Each time I try to run away
I just come back to this place.
Invisible hands push us together,
Can’t talk about it, what do you say
when all you feel is this nameless emotion?
Does everyone sometimes feel this way?
You don’t have to say that you love you,
I don’t want to hold your hand.
Just let me be by your side
and let’s not say a word, maybe we’ll understand.
Every minute, a dictionary,
meanings hidden in parse and pause.
The things you’ve said, your lips have known,
Those words will never be our own.
You don’t have to say that you love me,
I don’t want to hold your hand.
Just let me be by your side,
and let’s not say a word, maybe we’ll understand.
Forget what you’ve heard
the time is ours, and we’re not here for long.
Don’t need a name,
just don’t say something now that you’ll later disavow.
You don’t have to say that you love me.
You don’t have to say that you love me.
You don’t have to say that you love me.
Just say that you love me now.
|
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6. |
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7. |
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|
When I look, I can’t find you,
You don’t mind, you already know where you are.
A gentle curve, you spin away,
I don’t know what to say, you’re gone with just a trace.
Decimals divided, a fraction of what I know is true,
Irrational numbers aren’t you.
So all I want to say is:
Stay. Stay. Stay.
Tracing lines in these clouds,
Saying your name aloud, over and over again.
Speeding up is that a mass I hear?
It suggests you’re near, or is it only probability?
Everywhere and not, collisions all I do,
Math isn’t going to save me, no way,
So I pray:
Stay. Stay.
Knowing what tomorrow will bring,
can what’s infinite still add up to nothing?
This method doesn’t make much sense,
We’ve got to be something more than resonance.
Stay.
|
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8. |
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|
(based on a poem by Emily Dickinson)
Hope is a thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
and sings the tune without the words
and it never stops — at all.
And sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
that could abash the little bird
that key so many warm
and it never stops - at all.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land
and on the strangest sea
yet - never - in extremity
it asked a crumb of me
and it never stops - at all.
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9. |
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Jonathan Salem Baskin Chicago, Illinois
i'm a writer, musician, and science junkie.
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