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Beyond Black and White

by Plum Loco

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1.
She upset the downtown crowd with swagger worthy of the uptown set Her facepaint is regret, her breath is tainted by the scent of cigarettes Her hands are sometimes clammy, her makeup sometimes runs Her stammer isn’t glamorous, her posture rarely stuns She says "stop acting hammy," when I'm up for merry fun But my thoughts revolve around her like the planets round the sun She is perfect She is flawed She is worthless She is God She is nurturing But never spares the rod But she cares about her man and I’m the one she’s got Hates her teacher, loves her preacher, prays the rosary Won’t give speeches, scared of beaches, burns too easily. Won't do tasks for me and hates to pay for groceries. Luckily I’m never one opposed to toast and tea She is perfect… And when her smile darkens harkening a dropping in her mood I’m always there to comb her hair and later bake her comfort food She’s too short her cohort aren’t great sports they’re all a bore Forever clumsy, bumbling stumbling ‘cuz her feet are sore For she bought missized heels at Mrs. McNeill’s goodwill store The size that fit her feet-petite-she really can’t afford I don’t know why I’ve got this itch She ain’t beautiful and surely she ain’t rich Won’t even whip me up a single damn sandwich But still I somehow love my charming wicked witch She is perfect… My dearest Beatrice Finer than tea and biscuits The idealest breakfast For days full of sweetness When night falls upon our home And I’ve got you here with me alone Let’s take our creaky chrome plate schooner Cross the shores of abalone
2.
Madeline’s smile unwinds in its fine time in spoonfuls, like spools full of beautiful twine wove from jewels still aglisten with movement in color like dewdrops, a magical fabric that whispers to listeners and dimples that wrinkle like paper-thin craters in space her still face a palatial oasis in wastelands of misplaced creation, the chalice of malice’s acid libations have never trepassed through her mouth like a pilot who dials his plane to fly south to the tropics and miles of islands so mild removed from the arctic lethargy is Madeline’s smile. Madeline’s smile melts childish guileful wiles, like witnesses called on in trial who cry for forgiveness inspired by quiet revile of eyes that will pierce through denial sight bright like mangata moon melts like ricotta spooned over the tide-fighting white winding dunes bottle-strewn like a flying balloon flies immune to the piled-up highway is Madeline’s smile. Madeline’s smile is subtle but sly like coyotes who steal ‘cross the spring-budding fields full of foliage on voyage to hunt all the sun-loving livestock but coy in avoiding their master and faster and fiercer than eagles in treetops yet clever and deadly a medley both fearsome and tender like spider-veined brick cracks that wander and winnow through garden walls slipping and swimming like miniscule minnows in waterfalls spinning and dripping like droplets from alcohol bottles the old farmer’s calls over frost-frozen miles of composting piles is Madeline’s smile.
3.
Lying supine Sipping sunshine up on Marmalade Hill Past the town line Lie such fine times Where nature gives to each his fill Concrete sunbath Red skin sun wrath Catch the laughter as children run past In the long grass On the wrong path But the afternoon’s forgiving, and the evening’s yet to pass On the back roads We took rowboats to go sailing through moats Of castles crowned with thistled tassles An urban antidote remote Kissing dimples Distant whistles Dancing revelries sickled by prickles Leaf brush tickles Head rush giggles We should claim a spot forever, here beneath the lover’s willow
4.
Although 03:36
Upon taking awkward steps Jolts, spaces, pauses Raking up what I kept Shocking truth for the first time Re-lived, and re-dreamed I explored the red glow And eyes that were clean And a face that shown red The chapter before broke, and skidded The character simplified But when looking for more, instead of being ridded They joined with friends, and smiled, and cried Although, Although… Though lost in a day, to lose in a night And dropped to the depths of life’s density The motions still play, still move in bright light Scale the brain with red intensity Can’t wait, can’t wait to see Arriving in another day he awaits dawn Slamming into existence he whispers with glee “Finally the place awaits, and the time had drawn!” Although… But as soon as he skids and streaks in He is lost in a world of shy overbalance And suddenly he knows within He had left in a trance “No, No, just go away, from me…” he screams He hides in the corridor, in the out-of-place This vision is nothing like those of his dreams He must look no more, he must hide his face And when he reaches safety from those clear eyes He slumps, and thinks, and drinks He had not a need for disguise, he realizes He nods his head back, and blinks, and cries Although… The time he had waited for Was now in the past And so he knows, at last That he had a chance, but no more … [And here is the cause of all this trouble. Do not let the rooster count the eggs of the hen Do not twice count your own thoughts again over For when choosing time comes, and you must pick your clover You will not know which is folded over, again]
5.
Tuneful 05:20
She Is a fire-talking wire walker dire times have fallen on her Pallor in her cheeks pronounced, creases eat around her downcast eyes Southbound tears slip ere she cries bearing orbs of fair surprise Clouds of crowds of craven ravens gather round in airless skies Gawking frothing mocking stalking socking rocks and gossip talking ‘Cuz they saw things or they heard things trusting words the carrion birds sing Bearing grudges carrying anchors buried deep in seas of rancor Only see fit to harangue her, eyes wrapped shut in sacred paper But when the moon’s full She knows the muse will Arrive at her bedside where the floods subside Into tidepools full of colored lights She floats away like lilies on a riptide In a world so full of noise and fleeting joys Life feels unmusical A dirge verging on rueful But when her friend’s here she feels tuneful She Is an object of derision by the wizened missionary hypocrites Whose vision is a fiction in which contradictions to tradition Are relinquished to extinction, mixing hatred with religion Deep suspicion of the different brothers sisters Mr. Christian Is this your great proposition? Best defense of your position? Set against a pestilence of whores who dare to wear dyed colors In their hair or share of piece of mind not verified by Scripture Show an inch of skin and declare that they’re Satan But when the moon’s full… She doesn’t want to be the outcast Forever brusht past and outclassed She doesn’t want to hear their prayers for her Terrified before their vengeant Lord She Dreads awakening forsaken by the Savior they’ve mistaken For some fake and pagan deity who feeds on blatant piety Done in the baking sunlight making what’s wrong straight from what’s right Demonstrations made for all to see to feed their weak identities And worshipping their own displays the tribal dancing rivalries The silly trivialities that feed their insecurities Like God would damn a nation for a single word misspoken Hide their hopelessness in others whom they call the lost and broken But when the moon’s full...
6.
A castaway at sea amassed the lasting memories of countries Passed away in history, the mast above a massive tree The path of glass below so vast and deep, each night aghast with fastest sleeps That flash with mapless dreams and brush against the walls of passes steep He can taste spiderwebs in the cider sips When the spices bright bite his tired lips By the fireside from the trip he slips To a state of mind where his thoughts are clipped And old times unwind like a writhing whip He drinks forbidden memories like hundred Sabbath absinthe From a place beyond the singing ships An exile’s eyes are ever best in finding isles next to hide And time to steal a while’s rest while trial still awaits and friends still Wonder at this twist of fate, a kind but listless man irate Employs the pistol’s fatal weight, in justice done outside the courthouse gate The only course escape of course infuriates the state The case made worse the greater space between the crime and trial date A child grows half-orphan, lives are broken, wives awoken in the night To hear the dread words spoken: “Your love is dead, the killer rides the ocean” And he can taste spiderwebs...
7.
This track proves that lyrics are not important
8.
I won’t say I like you. I won’t call you nice. I will not compare you to “sugar and spice”. I won’t say you’re pretty. I won’t ever stare. I won’t compliment you, But I will say I care. You are amazing; fantastic; divine. You fill my days with hope, and my nights with sunshine. I won’t say I like you. I won’t call you nice. But I will say I love you, and I am willing to pay the price. Love is worth more than a smile and a wink; More than compliments that make you think you like someone, and you might want to date. I know it’s hard, but try to relate. I can not say I like you, for this is not true. Do you know what I feel? Do you know what is real? Here’s a clue. (I love you.)
9.
Now 03:33
Are you ready to open your eyes, love? Witness the prizes and surprises which await us high above Made of ethereal material far beyond the stuff that our dreams are comprised of? Are you ready to dwell in the daylight? To rub your eyes with sacred clay and regain your sight? Are you contrite in heart and mind and in your penance hope to finally be free? For see the seed of redemption within For you to feed and nurture deep beneath the skin Until the sleek unsheathed sword penetrates the weight which binds the heart in mires of sin If you open your heart The Lord will work his odd arts And guide your life by strange ways A range of great and dark days But if you come through unscathed You’ve made the greatest mistake You see There’s no elation without misery No celebration sans despondency Tribulation frames salvation’s qualities If tears are dead then laughter offers no relief The deepest mysteries of history are borne out in this strange dichotomy So if you want to be mine, be mine! And yes I want to be yours, I’m yours And you and I will be erased replaced embraced in the unbreaking him and her
10.
The sunset from the Esplanade is, broadly speaking, godly A dome of flame hemmed in by twinkling lights Our daily sullen drudgeries weigh heavy on us, bodily Til we forget God’s gifts are free for sight Here wallowing in restaurants, consuming without thought There expending time to never be reclaimed We’re swallowed by our self-concern until our eye is caught By a face that reawakens sacred flames She’ll never know the boon she’s been to me As I conduct my soupbowl symphony Knuckled timpanis knock out the rhythm for a melody A treat as smooth as seas of melted brie Your touch would give such sweet relief to me She takes my hand, escorts me to beyond the pale of death To domain where consciousness tastes true release Mistaken plans distorting thought expelled like exhaled breath Til all remaining spirit cries aloud for peace The costume of identity deflates in quick collapse As every inner pushing-out surrenders strength And lost soon in communion two engage in mystic grasp A reaching-out with arms of neverending length She’ll never the boon she’s been to me…
11.
Eva everywhere As I survey the crowds surrounding faking level-headed stares I’m on the lookout for her bevelled hips and eyes that never care Her countenance ensnared by medicine-red hair I dread to stare but chase with careful eyes the bed we’ve yet to share She’s got a taste for jazz An angel’s face and racy past Her patience on occasion has Been wasted on some tasteless lads She’s paces past mistaken paths Before she breaks, new chases had She’s shaken, saddened, takes what’s happened Sings a song that hits like baseball bats Her voice anointing oil That royals covet, bubbling boils Found soft soil in my soul Tough tendrils coil through aerioles And when I see her face, I freeze in place The keys displaced from my ignition My big mission is to get a taste from her delicious kitchen Eva everywhere.... She’s so fine it hurts Reclining in designer skirts Opining every minor flirt Not minding my overt efforts With every thoughtful line rehearsed She says I’m not the one for her But words that should burn now disperse New seeds like forest-fired conifers And nothing conquers me Like promises beyond sure reach No authored speech with proverbs proffered deep Could jostle me from constant sleep Or waking death, mistaking breath for consciousness Now breaking bread is wasting effort Food is tasteless till I take her to my breast Eva everywhere… (2x)
12.
Her smile’s polished bright white fragile magic like an eggshell diorama She weeps at lost virginities, realities of bitter fate and karma She won’t inhale on principle but lives to fill her life with driveled drama A dreamy queen of seedy scenes with ballerina’s pose and priestly honor Stop fearing love Stop fearing me All you’re made of Is dear to me She comes to me with smile afire bubbling like soda over ice Says that she aspires to be something more than just my crippled Christ Envisions deeper love than simple backseat lukewarm Minnesota nice She wants to take me higher and retire to a home among the skies Stop fearing love… So She’s my dove from God above who bears the marriage gloves upon her wing She rests abreast the west wind then emerges perches on the church to sing: Stop fearing love....

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Recorded at Radio Cure Records in Lyme NH.
©2017

credits

released September 1, 2017

We would like to thank Tuck and Kata for helping this album sound professionally recorded, Brett Wanner for lending us his fancy recording equipment, Guillaume Merou for his superb photography skills, Audrey Lee for her exquisite graphic design and album art, and Seamus the dog for boosting morale.

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Plum Loco Lyme, New Hampshire

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