1. |
maybe i deserve this
02:57
|
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instilled in me
this feeling of firstness.
an inevitable, compelling
incentive to try.
that experience would
somehow befit me.
waning inspiration,
yawning importance
animal pursuit of
exhaustion...
they speak of youth...
naiivity's nostalgic cousin.
but of this cosmic betrayal--
intention's essence
co-opts the complex.
so, i ask:
can't i dream?
or are all my tomorrows'
somebody else's metaphor?
|
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2. |
memento mori
00:57
|
|||
distillation
like metal to hot wax,
forgive me as this anodyne
of leaves melts away.
atmosphere of change
clings to moist bones,
forgiveness is the
apparition of the breeze...
disconnected assessment,
clouded antithesis,
empty, longing arms.
|
||||
3. |
||||
palimpsest,
facsimile,
verisimilitude.
|
||||
4. |
running man
02:06
|
|||
ripping from the source
a tapestry unwinding
in the history of eyes;
a scenic snow storm
captures the cascadian
nature of blood-flow.
ambiance of drifting plumes,
feathering abstersion
and a smothering dust that occupies
and a smothering dust that occupies
lungs are now present,
now capillaries,
now heart.
|
||||
5. |
||||
my body is barometer
for debunking myth.
ring out bile and ink;
this dripping mucous membrane.
|
||||
6. |
the gilding mantle
00:22
|
|||
patience tilts its scale
burdened and blessed
like a gilded mantle
|
||||
7. |
||||
longing to dissipate,
like wind through the dandelion.
distract me from the pull,
a numbing feeling from the banal;
sometimes a plunging bird
is a sign of relief.
grey clouds among
amaranthine light
i think of taking
this last step--
distract me from the pull,
a numbing feeling from the banal;
my blood grows warm
thinking of dying.
a glowing, swirling embrace.
my blood grows warm
but i won't mourn the glowing spiral.
distract me from this
craving--
(raptured in forbidden
fantasy of death.)
|
||||
8. |
finale of promise
01:02
|
|||
tact to your alienation
is a disingenuous suggestion
i am no longer willing
|
||||
9. |
a crown of bark
00:44
|
|||
acacian bark revealing the symmetry in nature
ancient geometry arranges itself in it's canopy
luminous arcane husk
all hail the alfheimian king
crown adorned with amber crystals
|
||||
10. |
speaking to my own ghost
00:36
|
|||
all our lives
drooling through
luck in the draft
apparition
|
||||
11. |
||||
semi-circles of iridescent waves,
comfort in glossolalia,
perimeters are shimmering...
portraits pulsate
a restless hue.
a hum
among
static--
a glowing silence,
shadows wane into nothing.
|
||||
12. |
a medium to your sorrow
02:28
|
|||
waves push this husk to shore
torpid shell in stasis
lacteal sea-foam arms pull you back
reminds you of your infancy
halcyon days of a sloth-like pendulum
time passes, even more stolid
innumerable troughs, dyscalculia
a medium to your sorrow
amelioration, another fruitless bike shed
|
||||
13. |
||||
sibilant, constant
planar design.
through this
linear perception
three sounds growing louder
and louder
more deafening
brain marred
synapses wilt,
sebaceous protuberance remains
healing soon nil
limbic resonance tiring
limbic resonance tiring
limbic resonance tiring
limbic resonance tiring
|
||||
14. |
||||
wind blows dry skin
and tobacco wisps into eyes;
a dark shade of red lingers
and the hazy moon...
a few spare letters and notes drift
with the breeze--
the same wind billows a sheet back
into eyelids--
speckled lioness
and the magic of a dark day--
silence--
eyes heal a broken inward stare.
a soft touch.
and a solemn grimace
is the intimacy
of repair.
|
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