1. |
Seed of Nothing
05:00
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Some plagues last a lifetime. All end in the same way. The victims never count. Numbers but not names. They gather around. Watch in excitement. Fascination in yr destruction. Left by their own. They didn't want it. But, somehow they did. The dance began and others joined in. We all are guilty, but it's in our nature. You know what I mean, we all are equal. "We're trying to feel!" They spoke with courage. "Even if it's over, at least we lived!"
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2. |
Gift Horse
06:01
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The first step of this cave-in. Involved dropping the logic. Through the discarded. I found my amenity. Partly out of panic. Anxiety only building by hour. Increments of time pile like bricks. Gravitation towards those similar. Betrayed by time. A vaporware of a man. Earthen, but ethereal. Ancient, but modern. Perfection is religion. A myth to perpetrate restraint. Design of the face to hide a discontent. What makes us beautiful? What is the deformed? What is an image? Why keep youth in a mason jar? To synthesize purity is to fill a void. To paint a mistake. Is to hide a despair. Discard logic. Life is a gift horse.
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3. |
A Life Without Soma
07:33
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The feeling when the eyes begin to lean. The moment when thought turns to auto. The realization that this is all that matters. The feeling of ecstasy only to shame. Dressing up real nice for the changing season. Only waiting to unravel the paper. All screaming away and fending each other. All forcing us down the same way. She tempts us all with oboes and saxophones. She masterfully quotes all our favorite poets. She portrays a soulless maiden. She knows my songs of love and hate. The hatcheries all running their courses. Couples weaving in and out. All full of soma and love. All emotionless and animalistic. Love as a pilgrimage. No longer just a means to an end. Love has gained momentum. It's my turn to take. Loss of the maiden name. Hatched away from the original. Love maybe for a year. Love during our sessions. Self-mortifying as defense. Witness of who isn't orthodox. Let's pack it in brothers. This has happened, I'm done.
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4. |
Distorted Symmetry
06:02
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She stares at me from the water. Begging for my presence. She gazes at me from the fire. Begging for me to douse the warmth. I stare at myself from the clouds. Rushing so quickly to the end. Playing the reels of my memory. Distorted but, beautiful in the same. Reel to reel, with analog sound. Life on a piece of plastic. Every single thing I felt. Every little moment I loved. She loved me for a moment. When life was new for both of us. We'd lay and laugh until we cried. Now all I have left is to cry. Meeting both as virgins of time. Both in Thomas's words. In pursuit of love, liberty, and happiness. One body moreso than the other. As challenging as it is to swim. This sea was always worth the trip. I dove into this ocean. Every current was an option, but I settled quickly. Reel to reel, with analog sound. Life on a piece of plastic. Every single thing I felt. Every little moment I loved. She loved me for a moment. When life was new for both of us. We'd lay and laugh until we were stuck. Now all we have left is to smile.
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5. |
Warfarin
06:12
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With hands on my brain and legs weaving through mine. These words scream through my head. Begging to be heard by another. I wore yr scars on my chest like a purple heart. You bore mine as if they were a cross. I wear silver for gallantry. To you it's just interruption. A signal struggling to be transmitted. Forcing the listener to stay aware. To me, it's a sermon of stimulus. To you, a frequency of disturbance. Disturbance on the shortwave. Static as a mandate. Although it was never said to be over. The beacon was still prevented. Now the listener thinks it's all gone. No more dancing and educating. "Is there cipher?" You say. Use the correct one, I say. Consider the impact. You control it all. I can only influence. I can only impede. So ask yourself this much. What actually is objective? What can you chase as a loner? What will you do without my transmission? Will you still dance to dead air? Will you consider joining that force? Will you break the iron curtain? It's all on you now. I'm in the right to be scared for you. But, like a child, one day you're free. I'm always above, still transmitting my sermon. You can take it or leave it. Thanks for listening, and goodnight.
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6. |
Silver Mirror
07:09
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Supply me with a dosage. Enough to displace the letters. Maybe one day a synthesis. More prone to combust. From acid to starch, and sulfide to oxide. Combination reactions. Looking through a silver mirror. Considered myself a noble, already plenary. Actually in transition. Needed 5 more. Existing now with stability, nothing to interfere. Alkali seeping through. All the way to the six. With warped perception. Like a barking dog, or sodium with a pair of hydrogen, all things eventually burst...
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7. |
Love as Pilgrimage
06:10
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Never requited and only inklings of notice. I wonder if they even knew, it was only believed to be unrequited. A history of compassion that only was neglect. Forced us both into corners. A trail of shards behind her. A trail of bread behind me. For her, a love lost. For me, a love never seized. We both hate the dreaded L-word. But, what else could in it be? At least I know not to maneuver. We know what we want, not him. Is anything sacred? Or is it all just the id? We still hate the L-word, but that doesn't mean it's not there. It's up to you to give up, I beg of you to linger. To warm my cold figure. Let's requite this. We can share a canvas. We can share these words.
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8. |
The World is a Dead Moon
09:20
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Silence is killing membranes. Allowing my mind to screech out every word. No influence from the outside. No window to even glance. Drifting through the pages of my mind. A ship without a rudder. No longer connected to a womb. Never again connected to a life. The distant is becoming near. The cryptic becoming evident. The familiar becoming strangers. The anguish changing suffix. Dysphoria is now a way of life. Eyes acting as a mirror that only distorts. Mother, my body failed me. I am as dead as our moon. Am I alive?
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9. |
Headless Horseman
04:35
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I got hit hard. I'm on the ground. And if you swing again I'll duck, and I wish you the best of luck. You deserve yourself and I'll return from my trip to hell as a headless horseman. Cause "O What a loss!" I went back to get my stuff and it was tangled up and tough. I stood there and stared you down and I walked aimlessly around with a flaming pumpkin head. O What a loss! My soft hands replaced by claws. You turned me into a stray dog from a mighty human man. O what a loss! O What a loss. I miss my closest friend, and now I cling to rocks in wind. It's a precious thing we lost.
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10. |
Henry's Ode
03:08
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Proclamations of suffering, spoken softly over the walls. Screaming out through the windows. Now settled as an anchor. The artist needed loneliness. To give you this ode. Did the artist want loneliness? To end up by the bridge. Running from the demons. If you close your eyes, they hide away. As quickly as you rush. They're still staring down. Now faced with little options. The artist takes a tour. He wanders to the fields at night. He walks below the lake.
Quickly realizing what this means. He emerges from the lake. Sees his life upon the screen. Finally awake.
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11. |
Lapidem
05:37
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I've no more to extrovert. Nothing for the silver wall. No cars to drive up and see me. No vivid pictures to paint a distant life. My projector has burned out. As all the maps to me have waned. Sure my films they still exist. But, that's all they really are. A stream of colour. Or a machine gun of warmth. Like the wall of sound you hear. That's what I once felt. Now my chest is a minor 3rd. The light that went out. Still I have a simulation. But, like a stamp of japan, it only goes so far. Lesson learned, to stay a rock. It was wrong to clutch for dear life. So now it's me? My island of opium, no foreigners in?
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12. |
Requiem for?
06:14
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Please let me in. It's cold. Let me say it. Please repeat it
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13. |
Russian
10:33
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Father figures always said, "To love someone else, you gotta love the one you are. To share, you need to possess." Learned to live through another. Panic in the veins of my brain. Thinking through vulnerability. Opening my wound to land of germs. But, not all germs were bad. In came the ailment. As my brain once said, "All of this, with no reward." Logic was the first thing to leave. As I assumed the others would. But, even art can be wrong. Cracked, but not broken. In love, the most bittersweet phrase. Like a wound of pretty color. Unexplained and diverse. But, I'm in love with the world. Through the eyes of a woman, not a girl. Sink or swim, I'm attending. I couldn't and I can't help the descent.
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Blue Mist Bands Biddeford, Maine
"If we are unable to unify the past, present, and future of the sentence, then we are similarly unable to unify the past, present, and future of our own biographical experience of life. By molding the past into visual mirages or stereotypes, we effectively abolish any practical sense of the future and of the collective project, thereby leaving the thinking of future change to sheer cataclysm." ... more
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