The Archives

All works by John Trudell are held under US Copyright Law.
If you are interested in using his words for publication, recording, performance or other, please contact DRIVE PUBLISHING (http://drivepublishing.com)
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Studio City, California 91607

 

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searching for a synchronicity
of authenticity
searching for an authenticity
of synchronicity

if anything is going to change
it has to be us
there is no other just recourse
when we change
is how everything can change
its in the numbers
in this together or one at a time
its how we decide
to change illusions into realities
or reality to illusion

every body has some broken
needing to mend
every broken has some body

John Trudell
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they wanted the same wants
they needed the same needs
they were in the same places
they were there the same time
they traded their wants needs
they did it because they could

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when he looked at her
he felt heart honey
oozing through his veins
something like a tulip
summoning
hummingbirds

John Trudell
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yesterday smiled
at the thought
of today being
yesterday's tomorrow

knowing tomorrow
wasn’t all that excited
by what yesterday
had done

using today like
a contest to win
or to lose...

John Trudell
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run with the times
and whatever they bring
as for passion and too much
its all in how we balance in it
with the not enough

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John Trudell Archives re-releases worldwide the critically acclaimed AKA GRAFITTI MAN in a limited edition vinyl for Record Store Day (RSD) in partnership with RSD and Inside Recordings on April 22, 2017. Visit your local music store on April 22!

www.johntrudell.com/2017/03/21/john-trudell-archives-re-releases-the-critically-acclaimed-aka-gra...
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with the past as a preview
how many times does it happen
tripping over his own longing
on the way to the rest of his life

some trips longing takes him on
the many directions of unraveling
between its all good
and what the hell just happened

when dizzy and spin team up
get ready to laugh or to scream
into the quiet
thats the noise he can’t hear
as another day passes

John Trudell
Poet Tree Publishing
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he listened to the late
drifting through slowly
fading dark into dark
while the music cry’s
memories of gone

she left fire marks
in the shape of stars
all across his mind
and in his heart was
a burning diamond

now pretty is a dream
he keeps looking
to get to that dream
he heard there’s
a hole in the sky
where dreams go

behind the sun
they close their eyes
and wait to be found
in a game of dreamed
finders keepers

John Trudell
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how do you stop
what won’t stop
some times the lines
were blood
leaking from a wound
that didn’t want to be seen

in a river of a million tears
some where between
the warm and the cold
the fire in his heart burns
old memories of tomorrow

and when sound of laughter
rides in the leftover hollow
of what once was
and what once will never be
and care and don’t care
are in a battle for the soul

needing the close of a smile
and some way to rest
while some where some place
in time
a light flickers

John Trudell
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getting through
the surviving either
thickens us or thins us

getting through getting through
the getting either
strengthens us or weakens us

life, really alive or partly alive
the universe breathes in pulse
magnetic rhythms
seeking synchronization

in the light of a flickering star
chasing designs of the wind
shadows come shadows grow
while the light fades and brights
in some kind of telepathy

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her voice was like
a slow rolling earthquake
turning him into shake

heart tremors
in magnitudes of high
velocity

aftershocks vibrating
his dimensions
rocking his realities

with much affections
on the prowl
howling his universe

John Trudell
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he felt the stars calling
his heart with the wind
pulling him in memories
of left over dreams

in between heart beats
in the next breath
reminders of chances
not yet taken

anything and everything
doesn't really count
when it's left up to nothing
to keep the score

when
memories and dreams
have their own agendas
and our minds are just
playgrounds or
battlegrounds

which ones are sighing
which ones are crying
which ones are lying
which ones aren't

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he's been running with his life
seems like all his life
never sure if he was
running from or running to

but fuck that's just too long a run
there was love and caring
there was love and rage
there were times to stand his ground
there were times to cut and run

in those clashes
between feelings and emotions
where’s this place called safe
is it somewhere or is it all in his head

those needs that can’t explain
survival by the intimacy of moments
when dancing with thrill is a healthy
like an inter-dimensional neutral
reminder
of the excitement of living
even when we’re running

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he heard his dreams
telling him it’s ok
they’re not going away

while the colors of close
danced him in rhymes
in rhythms of heartbeats

the sound of held breath
whispered her name

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