Proof of Ghosts
Filter
Time is a tyrant
Time is a tyrant
our lord once told the apostles that the fields were white, meaning that the harvest was overdue, the grain ripe for picking, and that if left, the crop would be lost, wasted and left for crows to devour. He was talking of the harvest of souls, of c
Time takes its time
Time takes its time
Squalls and quiet, love and lust, luck, the lack of it, and the promise of a new day to try it all again, so long, old day. so long, so long, so long
Oshawa, ON pt. 2
Oshawa, ON pt. 2
Even from a distance, our hearts return to those places and those times we longed to be rid of, our places of becoming, our hometowns, our sad little hometowns...
I'm coming home
I'm coming home
lilting melodies catch a breeze across an autumn meadow, becomes a train ride through bleak woods and fields of abandoned cars and distant storm clouds...
Genevieve
Genevieve
chugging, lumbering through urban and suburban decay, wrechage of our dreams disgarded on the broken road
Oshawa, ON pt. 1
Oshawa, ON pt. 1
I only want out, echos soundlessly into the distance, grassy fields and the city's bleak backdrop
Summer's wasted on the young
Summer's wasted on the young
townhome construction and smuggled beer cans, evening lingers and dances through early summer's long shaddows, first kisses and heartbreak in the suburban outskirts
Hey Anna!
Hey Anna!
smoke from everyone's cigarette, smoking is not yet outlawed, and behind the glass of the new Tim Horton's smoking section, we bide out time, no plans, maybe into town to drink too much and dance to the 80's
California is doomed
California is doomed
The San Andreas faultline, or perhaps the mountain of the big island of Hawaii will fall into the sea, sending a tsunami that will devistate all of costal America, judgement, nature, whatever, still I would fly in my bathrobe over the San Frenando va
My baby don't come 'round here anymore
My baby don't come 'round here anymore
never...let...it...come...to....this....
Tempted and tried
Tempted and tried
Wisdom, like wine, from age... a farmiliar melody, the whole church sings, and still in youth we wander
Sinking Men
Sinking Men
Far out to sea, battered by the waves and winds that must test our frail vessels, sentiment fails us at last
Glen Hill park
Glen Hill park
This hill, looking across the townships to the lights of the big city, where streets mark their progress into the dark with bright pins of light, shining straight lines into the distance, dreaming of escaping into some unknown place
