Grad School Application

by Drew Danburry



lo-fi poetry


released December 1, 2010

Recorded at home.
Photo by Chaunte Vaughn



all rights reserved


Drew Danburry Provo, Utah

Drew Danburry is a musician who played over 750 live shows around the world and released records independently from 2004- 2010. He received attention from blogs and websites such as NPR, Stereogum, Daytrotter, Magnet Magazine, Said the Gramophone, and the 405.

In 2011, he opened the Danburry Barber Shop in Provo, Utah and currently works full time as a barber. He still records and releases music.
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Track Name: Destined Be
We're in the place we're meant to be, and we came this way by destiny
And I'm meant to say, what you're meant to hear, and maybe it's meant to fall on deafened ears.
Awaiting for times, you're ready...when? Your mind remembers what once was said,
and maybe nonsense once becomes a creed for life, and what once was a passionate belief, denied.
For we change and grow, adapt and mend we understand and learn and fend for our own happiness we fight,
so let's not struggle gasp and die but easy, easy mind the course exerting effort only towards
the goals we're sure of as we prepare well knowing we are unprepared just pushing plodding day by day
at some point we'll make it stay that constant calm, that confidence no matter what we'll make it hence
and if it falls apart in hands we will know when to start again.
We'll know when to rest and when we've failed, we'll know it when the time avails.
Sometimes doors open too easily if we didn't struggle we wouldn't see,
how precious it is that which we seek, sometimes, its slowing that we need.
Track Name: Execute
It was your birthday and I sang for you, but you cried like never before.
Because I made love to your best friend when you swore you loved me more.
But this one night's stance, well it wasn't plant.
It was more animal than harvested when we sunk beneath the floor.
So give me your hand, not this cold cement.
It's so unflinching, unforgiving like your face of stone when you said and meant.
Everything you said, you meant, and you meant everything you said.
And as I realize the consequence
I'm feeling better off like John who's hat flew off
with a cold gust of winded runners pant and breathe
at the pacemakers keep the beatnicks
use badaylight savings came and took the sunshine
now i can't have any white lined
paper comes in handy when you need to scratch things out.
It's less a stress than living life ‘cause you can just use white out.
It's less a stress than living life.
Three hundred and twenty one college ruled lines and shapes
With every placement perfect in a specific individual way
Basic themes and doctrines line up just like pawns in chess
Taking turns and waiting patiently so we can make them all a mess
Everywhere I go I get by gracefully,
it's never easy but by the grace of God the ends always meet.
It's like I'm finally understanding life for the first time
If I put in my best things won't be perfect but after awhile I'll feel fine.
Track Name: Memorial Day
I'll stand the gaff tonight
but these perfidious motions constrict breath in breast
ephemerous songs of patriotism it's not
the 80's anymore that masquerade was run with broomstick
All this convenience is someone else's sacrifice
call them infidels and hussies
well learned are stereotypes
While we play gadabouts and royalty, oh how we love the living dead
let the conversation lead to bed, with the wine upside your head
exclaiming rape and screaming murder
but the truth will leak from pen
exclaiming rape and screaming murder
bristling sharp and bristling red
metal coffins taking flight lost in an ocher line of sight,
oh how majestic it's to love a memory
blood crying from the dust a country lost in lust
oh mother how I love you so
hope your birthday is so wonderful
despite the fact that I cannot be there
the military pension will take my place.
Track Name: Religion of Me
Well you stopped floundering in the summer of 2006,
you stamped the wet cement of time and stopped to watch it sit,
But there's a mindless repetition, filling you with rage,
And there's a seedy character, he's always crashing stage.
Asphyxiated bombs or clocks, stuffed full of hollow time,
and you can sway with tides or currents but you'll only find,
There's a pariah pressing in, a pugilist by trade,
he'll square away for atavistic archetypes and saints.
And while we walk with imitation Cleopatra fakes,
our heavy insecurity will burden and will break,
cause there's a cheering cavalcade, a chorus that will swell,
and it will shatter scintillating things they try to sell.
Track Name: Sharing with Strangers
The eloquent art of sharing, to take as if to give,
to thieve as if it's daring, no confrontation was required.
we had two bikes now we have one, you left us with an empty box;
filled up with violence for a person no return address was left though.
palpable liquor poured in my veins with my mouth sewn up tight,
red rag to bull, slow car left lane powerlessness provokes four letter thought,
can we shake hands recite history can i know who you are?
a bike is less value than you to me, it's selfish but I'd rather be friends.
Track Name: Human Resources
Blood rushes to your cheeks, victory.
my fingers become vines, your hands hanging ivy, your mouth is so metallic.
middle class morality, champion.
the last stitch is in your nose now, anything to get my eyes back.
red flag hoisted to the sky, hero.
whistling while wearing your sadness. I'm dancing in sandboxes...
but silence is unnerving, Circle runner?
dumb with depth, i'm digging deeper, belligerent misgiving.
The corners of your mouth have loosened, challenger.
Paper is more patient than man. Oh, oh my aching self esteem.
Track Name: Home
The haze of red and green passing, need my glasses, 3am.
Rain comes jumbling, loud stereo, stay awake! passing on the right, Iowa.
Jolted by a buzzing, loose change, i love you, 7am.
Vigilant. Hours pass, seconds count. No recreation. Red light reminder.
Gasoline hands, police, hiding beneath, 11am.
Scraps of bread, going strong, sliding forward, losing battle. The sun will win.
Lord, I miss her...been too long, a throbbing rhythm, 3pm.
Grieving hands and hours lost, black horizon, helpless fate...Nebraska.
Flurried snowstorm, tired eyes, curse Wyoming, 7pm.
A whipping wind, a reckless road, 90 feels slow. Water heals hunger.
Gold lights, anxious fury, nothing stopping, 11pm.
Familiar arms, loving hands, never leave your side again. Home.
Track Name: Teamwork
By now, you'll be, a million miles gone, your tongue between your teeth,
captive conundrums, replaced with a lark, riding those railings, well into the dark.
And execrated when you're found again.
And although you won't consider coming home, at least consider those, kissing their Bibles
and gilding their eyes, jarring the heavens with their plaintive cries, and throwing their bonnets o'er mills.
In the light of your own vampire you can always count on being empty and greedy,
cause piling tomorrows will leave you empty days with waiting games to skin your knees.
You haven't hit your stride, you've hit an access, a coward's contest,
Presenting prattle to ironed ears with a stethoscope in your hands.
But if you could just remember winsome days, withholding your disdain thin skinned and hopeful,
conjecturing how to kill your albatross and to avow chivalry among all men.
With acquaintances like an interlacing arcade count on them at hazard when in disaster,
you know well the price of ladder rungs but lost the value of good friends; not realizing criticism doesn't contribute.
Eviscerating, defenestrating. Traditions once maintaining joy, now sullied and undermined.
But oh how it helps when mavens thrush like tones outweigh those making bones,
and if all the auguries are looking bleak if words twist to justify death for belief,
Well good timber does not grow with ease.
Track Name: Media Naranja
Ostensibly mordant morceaux, mitigated by placement and form.
Manifest how gates quickly close to outlying obstreperous storms.
Apocryphal promises placed up high in a rookery guarded by mansard incline,
at sixes and sevens for fear of flight but I climb. Continue to climb.
Surrounded by stuff shirted foes, the bolero dancing heel and toe.
A five and ten pilgrim I rove, my revetments now battered and broke.
But springing from cover you fashion our fate, desirous and starving, you facilitate,
by siphoning deep enough we'll find the strength. With you, I'll always be found.
Darling there is no one else, that completes me the way that you do,
no doctor could restore my health, quite compared to a visit by you.
But if there are demons destroying my dreams,
than you are an angel with snow white wings,
to carry me places where i can be,
Strong. Again.
Track Name: Done
Amaranthine eyes, blink. echo. A rustling of nylon lining.
1/1000 of a second plucked from midair. Flash of gold and pearl.
A distant scent of coffee, identifying cataleptic images as canon.
Deep forest green, (laughter) waltz.
A quiet stain upon an oak table.
Defying the present, misquoting Tom Paine.
Chartreuse trimming, rest, at ease. A sting of heat, evaporating.
Awkward silence lacks ideals.
A scream of fabric, secure departure, the smooth curve of a ceramic cup
Presenting lavish approbation to a crown.