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childhood's end

by david edward walker

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1.
My name is Joshua Maiden I am a Navajo man in the ways of my fathers I once lived off of this land My children have grown white they no longer let me roam I am the penned-in stallion inside the old folks home so I sing to buy my supper of caring human hands that touch with hesitation like I am half a man Bless me, powers of the four winds White corn, make me whole Yellow corn, call my lover’s spirit Take me where the fluted grass still rolls My name is Joshua Maiden I was born in 1895 and I have sucked upon the pebbles of this earth when she gave me no rain to keep me alive My children are in the city they do not see me for I am blind the nurses hear me chant and wonder what songs of drama might lurk behind My name is Joshua Maiden I grew up poor but I filled out proud my withered hands curl my eyes grow wide my toothless grin spreads and I sing out loud My children see me old and hopeless my buckskin split I’ll make my deathwalk soon but I am far away from this sleepy tied-down stupor I crouch and pick the scent up on a lone hunter’s noon Bless me power of the four winds White corn, make me whole Yellow corn, call my lover’s spirit Take me where the fluted grass still rolls
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anygood 04:08
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When I was a little boy I played in fallow fields And winds like this Blew cotton clouds Above the ground On which I kneeled I knew no want or hunger ‘Though I never had as much I knew of love no greater Than my sweet mother’s touch I had few friends to call my own Yet who I had were such That I recall them again and again Before Childhood’s End Then suddenly my world fell down My clothes no longer fit I came into a cold grey dawn I was told that “This is it. You’ll fight for what you should have ‘Though you never will arrive. Instead of being happy, You better struggle just to survive. And every day you’ll battle with Just so you can feel alive, Like you did, my friend, Before Childhood’s End.” So now that I am all grown up I’m free to take my place Become one of my boyhood dreams And join the human race. But racing for more marbles Or for a bigger toy Reminds me of my younger days When I was just a boy. So maybe of all the things we seek It’s just to find the past again Blustery blue and fallow fields Before Childhood’s End.
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I thought of you when the leaves were changing when I was changing you entered my dreams arranging sitting next to her you introduced me as your best friend a bit of irony which you did not intend I caught the silent glance that signaled the forming crust of frost upon the panes of glass between us moments murdered what was once our happy commerce now forced like hope between lines of tragic verse written by the King of Sorrows with a chest of gold tomorrows whose court is empty and barren with none to rule who for a time was entertained by this one captive first a knight, then a knave, then just a fool unhappy freedom in trying so hard to please you but freedom still takes me through this veil of tears with food enough to nourish through the winter better than our friendship did through the years And every seventh season, like a plague upon my crop you telephone or write a card and I wish that you would stop there's nothing to be gained by this bold adventure but my harsh memory of your censure The many silent months that passed so slowly by the wind against me blew a wood chip into my eye I do not cry for drunken summers asleep on your front lawn, or inside your father’s auto as he left for work at dawn. . . too much hashish and tequila too much jazz and poetry without which unsedated I would have surely seen that this court was empty None to worship and adore you You became a silent vision Lancelot was made insane by betrayal and indecision left to walk the world alone as a caricature of need his pull is very strong on me but so are the hurts that made me bleed And I do not make friends with men easily mistrusting trust, just a few can be with me who do not yearn to seduce my woman or betray me in some other way or enact their noble thoughts and deeds while hiding hate that may have made the bond between us more true the secret anger the secret anger that grew in you Three sins did Lancelot commit and visit on his friend his lust, broken trust, and no words for friendship's end
10.
I would walk across the water for you If I thought that you would change. If I really do not matter to you, Why do you act so strange? The sun might burn me easily, But still I only stare, Wondering where you've gone to now When even the dogs beware Of the wrong way to show it too. Your voice is like a stalk of wheat Gone dead in the heat of drought. Are you really trying to act so sweet? Is that what you're about? And am I here to wish you well And hanging by a thread Between dreams you won't admit to now And a walk amongst the dead With the wrong way to show it too? A Sunday morning christening And a phone call from the moon. You might just be that far away, Like the echo of a loon. I mourn the summer never known In a year that never passed On a day I never spent with you We both knew would be our last And the wrong way to show it too.

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released February 13, 2023

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david edward walker Indianola, Washington

"With a style that encompasses urban and rural images, rich metaphors, spiritual themes, moving ballads, and ambitious fingerstyle guitar work, David Edward Walker (aka 'David Folks') is a singer-songwriter with special ability to reach listeners on an emotional level."
~ Music Hound,
The Essential Folk Album Guide

"Spilled poetic love." ~ Dirty Linen

"Folk Hero."
~Detroit Monthly
... more

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