www.agentofchaos.com presents guest poet, publisher/editor singer/songwriter Bree

8 songs by Bree
GreenPandaPress 2003

BirdCake has metamorphed into
Very Sharp and Midnight
& will play in Sandusky, OH July 11, 2004

I Hear Music

When I cook
when I clean
when I am walking to work,

in fact I am in the music,
the music is all that surrounds me.

Sometimes I step outside the music,
leave it open just a crack

then it's all humming hertz and

and I'm big as business.
Sounds roll into one

the way Bach rolled into Hendrix,,

the world of music called earth evolves.

Around whom does it revolve?
I look for an icon, all I find is earth.

I would like to constantly play a song
like a leaf does, roots wading, tagged
bear,       I have a song/know where
my heart is       but don't dare,
                            don't dare.

page top   page bottom    bree home

,,Come for Me,,

May not be what it seems,
never while away the dream

deep in my heart
deep in my heart/      Come for me.

Lapkiss lick beat of fingers on keys,,

What key is me?
Deep in my heart?
Be in my key/          Come for me.

page top   page bottom    bree home

Mystico City

Whether light
or fish of light swimming
beneath useless loom of buildings
          whose farceful grab
is eluded by need//
                                    and blind,
blind swimming,,

Whether in droves
or slow pack race of seconds
shepherded by wealth, inorderlies
suppress shadowed faces//
                   build against//
go blind
         in their swimming,,

Engines or groans in time
create what we know of silence,
what silence recognizes as art

what such things fly toward plays
nightly by day, hold in wing//
 survive for

whether fish of light or light alone,,

Jazz is dead in the holder, weep and moan/

reap and sew.

I can't hear what's loud, and so it goes.

Jazz is dead, it has no holder for a soul,

    for a soul.

My capacity for getting high is higher.
My inclination towards staying dry is dryer.
I'm on a speed chase and nothing's getting near.

I no longer fear, I'm flying
                       I'm flying
                       I'm flying
                       I'm fine.

page top   page bottom    bree home


is the sibling who meddles,
having no great thing
to take his time.

has mastered the art of teasing,
no hobbies
but hopping into eyes;

feigns sleep
in every container thought empty,

slipping into sight.

never tires,

spends his life perfecting this game,
          childhood rivalry.

page top   page bottom    bree home


You are my secret, my flesh song
my eternal guest.

You bless me when you smile,
your laugh becomes my body touching
this life that beckons us.

writes his belly down.

wouldn't know a frown
if he wore one.

page top   page bottom    bree home

Nature Hike

Roll up your pants, baby
c'mon let's go for a hike.

Roll up your pants, baby
we'll go on a nature hike.

You can wipe your hands later,
let's build us an appetite.

Maybe climb,
         I'll need a boost or two.
Wade in the rocks and water
and maybe I'll get used
to you.

Can't keep the flies from buggin,
you know I ain't that kind of lady.

Plenty time for huggin,
    and you know I'm a lady.

Sun's way upin the sky,,,,,,,,,
baby go on a hike
/with me.

page top   page bottom    bree home

Where Do I Go?

Where do I go, when all I see is leaves,
roots, dirt and snow?

When I see the mountain, am I not really
in the mountain?

And if not in, then where do I go?

Where do I go when I'm not in the dirt and snow?
Where do I go, tell me when it's cold?
Where do I go when I'm settin aside these raggy bones,
if not in the leaves, roots, dirt and snow?

Where could I be when I feel the cool water
rushing over me?

When I'm in the ocean, how come I can't
really be the ocean?

Sand sticks where it shows,  so where do I go?

page top   page bottom    bree home

No Regard

As if the sun were wavering,
or the clouds
         wrinkling into themselves.

Smoke given off by wet grasses
melts through the air

nothing more than colored
then disappears.

Moss stricken trees
look down at their toes
flutter heartless
and steep in the arbor.

A dark gale whispers,
I do not listen to the words.
I have no regard for words to the
weary.                        Every sky
has a new face, one artist's
of the
race against time
          or the sun, wavering, or
the clouds,,,
        wrinkling into themselves.

Birdcake is/was/will be
Peter Dias - guitarist and macromolecular scientist
Johnny = bassist (also basis for the group) and computer scientist

Very Sharp and Midnight is
bree singer songwriter spoken word
pete is a macromolecular scientist and blues guitar extrodinairre
adi on harmonium* and guitar
greg on three and four-string banjo, guitar and harmonica

*an organlike keyboard instrument that produces tones with free metal reeds
actuated by air forced from a bellows

back to top
bree home page

what's new   agent of chaos
collage   poetry   guest artists   guest poets   fotos

site map