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The Year 1373

by Tim Koehn

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1.
Who cares? You care.
2.
...by e.e. cummings now air is air and thing is thing:no bliss of heavenly earth beguiles our spirits,whose miraculously disenchanted eyes live the magnificent honesty of space. Mountains are mountains now;skies are now skies— and such a sharpening freedom lifts our blood as if whole supreme this complete doubtless universe we’d(and we alone had)made —yes;or as if our souls,awakened from summer’s green trance,would not adventure soon a deeper magic:that white sleep wherein all human curiosity we’ll spend (gladly,as lovers must)immortal and the courage to receive time’s mightiest dream
3.
Wakerobin sing Sing blood red Red as your feather- breast. Stir leaves ride Ride on breath Breath from collapsing chest. Sun don't hide, Glint your peaks: As spear to His side. Trees bow low Halo glow-- 'round Dripping thorns-a- crown.
4.
All the light a winter storm can receive is a gray seahorse that turns into a C, throws its back arched and splits into three, and provides prismed edges, making colors to see. (...for short--they melt quickly and then sink back to sea: a hole that starts to shaft and retract and flee; soon swallowed is it that has shown all to thee.) All day I watch the clouds play; all day the finger of God stays.
5.
The moon chased me on tracks, and the stars pinned a shawl across his shoulders and it fell across his back. And all the light from space was a greenhouse paper-lantern lit up bright on earth's dark face. And I know I saw you there...you were there. Before the possibility of me flashed on someone's brain (I was without five faculties), still from your head like rain off eaves, your blood dripped for Julian-- the year was 1373. And I know I (she) saw you there...you were there.
6.
7.
Elote 01:40
8.
Lullaby 04:58
I've heard the cranes, seen sky curl from their wings, and in the rain, heard every droplet ring. But does it matter? It's only in my dreams-- a strange darkness that brings a stranger thing: I know a strain of hope, a drunken offering, a winter coat, beneath an early spring. In spring... She'll sing a lullaby for sons and daughters. From lips it will fly to future fathers, and hope will still ring. When shadows come, eclipsing you and me, blink out the sun, moon behind a tree, beauty comes fractured; it comes painfully. A disaster--but broken on a sea you're spent better to hear the waves come carefully; they're soft and near, and meant only for me. For me... She'll sing a lullaby for sons and daughters. From lips it will fly to future fathers, and hope will still ring.
9.
Il était un petit homme, pirouette, cacahouète Il était un petit homme qui avait une drôle de maison Sa maison est en carton, pirouette, cacahouète Sa maison est en carton, ses escaliers sont en papier. Ce lui qui y mont’ra, pirouette, cacahouète Ce lui qui y mont’ra se cassera le bout du nez. Le facteur qui y est monté, pirouette, cacahouète Le facteur qui y est monté; il s’est cassé le bout du nez. Un avion à réaction, pirouette, cacahouète Un avion à réaction a rattrapé le bout du nez. On lui l'a raccommodé, pirouette, cacahouète On lui l'a raccommodé avec du joli fil doré.
10.

about

Recorded sporadically between 2005 and 2009 under very amateur (call it organic) conditions. All proceeds from the original release went to Rural Classes Nepal.

credits

released December 1, 2009

Special thanks to Jason Thibodeaux, Krysten Koehn, Julian of Norwich, and Christine Prioux

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Tim Koehn Nicosia, Cyprus

Tim Koehn, currently based in Cyprus, teaches for a living but writes and makes music any chance he gets.

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