Get all 18 The Uncivil Society releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Counter Arguments, Volume 1, Food For Followers, Savage Accumulation, Movie of My Mind - Soundtrack, Weird:Sound_3, Songs and Stories of Enlightened Anger, Tales from the Panopticon, Everyday Revolution, and 10 more.
1. |
A_Nest
03:00
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Nest
As my son lay on his back
Watching an Eagle
Circle on an invisible
Column of air
I too looked at The sky
Right where Blue
meets and haphazardly
Fills the jagged
Rhyzomic tendrils
Of the branches
I saw the nest
Nestled near
The top of the tree
I wondered why Today
In this moment
Sanctuary Was Revealed
Perhaps the
Unspoken annual agreement
between The birds
and the trees
Concluded This afternoon
Or maybe the love
that labored To construct
This sound shelter
Has migrated
And the babies
Who were Rocked
and cradled
In the gentle sway
Have grown hungry
And flown away
Soon the rains
Will loosen Woven strands
And November Winds
Will ripple and decay, What remains
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2. |
B_Dream #2
02:21
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Dream #2
The atmosphere was
self Contained in either
A clamshell Or convex mirror
The relative round distortion
Of the globe was revealed
By the steady stream
Of foreshortened
Travelers passing
On either side
Looking down at
The Life size scaled
Map Of the World
as represented by Risk
I discovered that I was
heading towards the border of Italy
and Seeking entry where fingers
protrude into the Adriatic
A man, on my right
With a woman on my left
Materialized before me
with hands outstretched
He reflexively reached
and filled My hand
with a large stack of
Colorful money
She gently placed
A book of stamps into my Palm
they reached out in synchronicity
To fold my fingers around
The offerings
Once the weight
became real in my hands
They looked me in the eyes
And said “You will like it here”
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3. |
C_Perseverance
02:22
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Perseverance
the seeds were purchased in the dead of winter
As a gesture of hope that the sun would soon return
You, inadvertently landed outside
The constraints of the
diaphanous filaments
That formed surrogate wombs
As the other seeds erupted
to signal The coming of spring
Your delicate fronds also reached towards
a dim star That burns in an obscure corner
of A nondescript galaxy for essence
When the others were planted
Into decorative pots and bowls
You remained, Clinging for life
Almost discarded,
Yet, through a benevolent whim
you were placed In proximity
Of a patch of sprouting
Nubile greens
Who in their hubris,
Took root as if destined
to make this plot
Their eminent domain
No one could anticipate the cruelty
of lingering cold nights, excessive rain
and the ravenous hunger of the slugs,
who in subconscious concert
quickly decimated the idealistic
yet fragile, young turks
You persisted, and dare I say thrived
And with each passing day of summer,
Your roots grew deeper
and your trunk became thicker
Through your force of will
you made your pot your own
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4. |
D_Mile Marker
03:28
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Mile Marker
In the face of an expansive morning sky
Whose soft growing light gently cradles
A fading sliver of moon
Along with a radiant morning star
I steadily plod up the hill
That always makes
me dig deep to find the breath
that Hides in quivering lungs
I arrive at the point
Where I turn into the grade
and let gravity fix false wings to my feet
This moment is always
a celebration Of sorts
No matter how long
It took me to get here
To signify this point in time
I reach out to the tree
Planted by conscious design
On the corner Who serves as witness
In passing, panted pleasantries are exchanged
In spring I complement budding leaves
In summer, I gently shake a sturdy branch
In fall I remove any errant foliage
In the dead of winter I squeeze a limb
and say out loud “to slumber”
This morning
at my personal
six furlong pole
I reached out
to discover you
were gone
Only a sunken
pile of dirt
In the manicured lawn
remained
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5. |
E_Fight
02:35
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Fight
On an unseasonably warm
Early September afternoon
Hot winds
From the east
Carry the sent of fire
And lightly sprinkle ash
The trees understand this sign
And reflexively release
Single winged seeds
And spent cones
into the billowing gusts
So they may spiral
far away from home
As the winds gather force
some of the more
Tightly clustered trees
Take this opportunity
To air lingering grievances
Over stolen water and sunlight
Rocking back and forth
Like drunken sailors
In a port of call
When the bars finally
close for the night
Jostling trunks swing
Wild limbs akimbo
Occasionally they connect
with a deep Woody resonance
That echoes through the forest
Lesser branches are shed and
Aimlessly fall to the ground
As the spectators sway in delight
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6. |
F_Glimpse
01:48
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Glimpse
As the Turgid
Orange Sky weeps
A local Karen
stalks their prey
Through the parking lot
Of a near by shopping center
Waiting to pounce
Her Anger is palpable
Before initiating conflict
She Wants To let you know
how your unconscious
And unintentional action
inconvenienced them
She also feels compelled
to inform you, As a result
of this random interaction
She has determined
Your mental acuity
And capacity for participation
In society Has been deemed
Unfit
I have never have given
Much thought or energy
to what end times
Would look like
But now with our world
Boiling over
With rage
Anxiety
Fear and
desperation
Our current condition
And possible conclusion
is becoming clear
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7. |
G_Weeds
02:15
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Weeds
Passing a home
Of a self proclaimed
bigot
whose world view is
Signified by their Yard signs
Emboldened by hatred
this snake in the grass
might of Laid low not four years ago
But now proudly proclaims
The darkness they harbor in their heart
Angered, I cast aside my regular
caution, knowing full and well
That my Passing would be ring recorded
And raised my middle finger
Yet, that gesture was not
Satisfying in the least
Because I am tired
Of the lies and And inequity
you champion
I know, deep down
The only way to create change
To extract weeds like you
We must Dig down deep
and pull with all of our collective might
So that every root is removed
and filament yanked clean
From the dirt that holds
Your hatred in place
And hope cold, heavy
November Rains
Wash you,
and the other
67 million
Despicable others
Away
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The Uncivil Society Seattle, Washington
I do, because I love to do it. I understand that I am a hack musician, a terrible vocalist and a sloppy graphic artist. I don’t care about achieving perfection, because I am happiest while being engaged in the exalted messiness of my creative process. I don’t worry about capturing the perfect take. I am satisfied by the pure joy I derive from expressing myself without filter or restraint. ... more
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