FILMOLOGY

September 2008 issue under Best people in Media.  - ON NEWSSTANDS NOW!

BEST LOCAL FILMMAKER

Prayer little prayer
Don’t come close i’m hardly here
I’ll split and I’ll tear
I’ll hurt and I’ll bear
When u love when u share
When u drop me like a tear
Deafening screams, abnormal fears
Makeup runs when emotions are bare
Logic straddles on multiple layers
Fuck and fight, our daily fare
Our time is near with no time to spare.
Did we push or did we walk together
How did any of us get here
Do we remember, do we care.
Burn it all and the hell outta here
Charred memories burn everywhere
Piece of paper, piece of lead
Just a prayer little prayer
Will carry me from here.

Vast stretches of land. land everywhere i look. i am behind the wheels. the wind rushes by my ear like a gushing stream. i burn through this land making my way rushing to get somewhere. a place i knew but I’m not sure now. smell of early rain. thick stumps of tree lie beheaded on the ground. i slow down and stop. I jump out of my jeep and walk across a sheet of fine, cold drizzle. My wheels are wedged between two stumps . the jeep sinks down as it pushes the wheels further into the wedge. I’m not sure if I can get them out.

the sky is a shade of purple grey heading towards black. the drizzle has given way to rain. orifices on the ground laid out like land mines with smoke seething out of them. the smoke curls up vertically. On their way up they take on the shape of the statue of the academy award.

I come across a circular chasm. calm, dead, inviting, no smoke shaping out of this one. covered with debris and dead branches smeared with ashes. in between the branches and the twigs, the eyes can see black, the chasm is filled with black water. undisturbed by the falling rain.

I barely pass it when I hear the hissing sound and I know immediately, before I could take another step, I turn and there she is, rising out of the black hole, her neck reaches up, she is as tall as me - I have seen her before, I have read about her but don’t know her name. she has black beady eyes on a black and white checkerboard patterned body. Her tongue unfurls as she looks at me for a split second before slamming down on me.

I thought i was standing but i am lying on the ground with her body flush against the entire length of the left side of my body. I can feel the rain on my face. I’m surprised I’m alive. why did she spare me? she lies motionless beside me. I’m trying to stay still. breath carefully. after what seems like an eternity, I reach out, slowly, to make sure i’m not dreaming, expecting an ice-cold feel to the touch, I place my hand over her, the sheets curled up with the blanket is right where she was. I’m awake.

I touch my face, I’m dry! tick tick tick tick tick…the steady marathon of the hand on my clock perched on the headboard. Splashes of light stream from outside, through the blinds on the bedroom window and make patterns on the wall. the hum of the AC running. 21st century amenitites, working the way they are meant to. everything is in place. everything the way I left them here, in this world, in my time. I am here. this is my world. this is my time. that was just a dream.

I’m going around in circles

to find the roots of my faults

I know there is history

buried in the roots of all cause.

I see the mistakes inside my head

pain from frozen memories that are desecrated

shoot up in front of my senses

to steal an otherwise wonderful day.

I’m sometimes amazed at my awareness

sometimes I’m lost in my tiredness

my face cringes, nights bleed into days

like watercolors in the rain,

I remind myself, they’re dreams, they’re nightmares

except I’m awake and I’m going around in circles.

music only track available at www.dibpictures.com , MUSIC page, song 3 - STARLIGHT (click on the fast forward button on the ipod image to skip songs)

CHORUS

You wonder looking at the snow on the trees outside your window, why someone would care if they didn’t love. When I find it, I want to stand next to you. When I find it, I want to be close to you. When I find it, I want to hand it to you.

We would stand on the bridge and the water beneath would be cold, the breeze playing with your hair would be crisp and our friendship would be old. Old enough that I would know you’re searching for warmth every time you would turn your head and pull yourself further in your coat.

We both would have been there before, time and time again, until this time when our skins would be wrinkled and our eyes would have seen the world twice over, once now and once through the kids.

We’d stand there and you’d ask me the same question. I’ll take you back from where we began and you’ll find that it was not about finding the road for we’d have completed a journey…A journey that we would have walked together…on the same road that we set out to find in the first place!