Eredien's Journal

I was listening to a slowish 4/4 song today while doing grocery shopping; it had a slightly disjointed melody and a singer that sounded deep and sad, like a basso profundo whose kitten had just died being run through a moog [the basso profundo's sobbing, not the kitten]. It kind of reminded me of the Magnetic Fields, but it was, oddly, too peppy. And I was hearing the backbeat without really listening to it, and thinking about the coordinating designs I am making for my website/twitter/lj reworking, and thinking about feeling less defensive about people and things, and thinking, "people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones," and then this image came into my head.

This is a song, not a poem. I hear the first verse in almost a chant, sort of a Days of Future Past Moody Blues-style

Glass House Rock Garden

Finely raked pebbles
patterns white on white
statue in the distance
panes letting in gray light

Stoop and pluck
and break the pattern
warm palm round cold stone
the garden's silent
rocks are silent
you are silent
and alone

Dusty fountains
dusted fingers
dusty door lintel
dust disturbed
across the threshold
your step
see the less gray place
where less dust fell

Try the lock/rusted broken
try the windows/bolted closed
white rocks in this
greenhouse garden
it's too quiet
you're alone

Now can't get out
how you got in then
the only key's
your stone

Try the lock/rusted broken
try the windows/bolted closed
just rocks in this
glass house garden
it's too quiet
you're alone

Zen rocks in your
glass house garden --
glass breaks easy,
is no home --
can't now get out
how you got in then
your key's palm-shaped
throw the stone