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Literature Text
the snap, the twist,
the bite and a catch,
falling through my dreams I land
and splinter plywood,
my blood runs and picks up little splinters,
my eyes become more and more white...
as my sockets grow darker,
it must be all the smoking I've been doing,
when trying, to balance, on a beam,
the choir hits a minor chord,
and I am again, unsure.
there used to be a fine line, between the unreal and real,
everything is clouded in a foggy verisimilitude,
a faint nostalgia, but still I doubt,
I find my consciousness falling outside my brain for a second,
and for the blink of an eye, I realize I'm objective,
and all of this is meaningless,
but I forgot what I forgot, forgoing the normal route home,
my brain makes extra time taking in the details of the until-then-unobserved,
stored for later use, the miracle of human matrixing
projections,
principle among them,
you,
you sweet girl, I almost hate you for it,
I can't go on, knowing you're the one dream
I've managed to smuggle into the real world,
you'll fade through my finger-tips, you are sand, God is the waves,
and I am the gentle icebergs, falling apart into the sea,
soundlessly
hold me, because I know it's impossible,
you're too perfect,
kiss me, because I know you can't
but you would if you could,
but you shouldn't,
I wander an icy plain alone,
a cape longer than several thousand yards,
a trail of mine, wrapped around a large tree,
arrow through a heart, my cape and bark,
bleeding into a fuzzy collection of,
pixels I can't remember
the sky black, white dots, pinholes in a lampshade
I stole you from a throne, somewhere in this strange space
and painted you to life, with my words, my thought
my amorous affections bred you into light,
but my curse, for you to be born so far away,
my need for you is an evolutionary instinct,
somewhere, deep down in my code,
I was taught that you would be the perfect partner,
but the concept of love ignores this base desire,
I would kill and be killed for you,
slay me, I'll take the blade,
hold me, kiss me,
scatter my atoms amongst the sea,
and watch how they, draw back in,
I'm one million shattered songs, the epithet of a cocktail,
contrast to you, carved from a single piece of ivory,
I am surface, you are mass,
together we are the math of the observable, and the whole,
I am shell, you are fill.
I am loud, you, underspoken,
grace me, with how few words you speak,
you equal the many I have spoken here,
and how oft have I spoken, and spoken wrong,
this life, such a vexing thing,
trife with idles and ides, strife
struggle,
and all of it, such a vague thing to describe,
do I describe you by what you speak, or have spoken, what you are, appear to be, were, shall be, shall appear to be, might be?
for you are the worlds biggest maybe,
you could be elsewhere...
or you could be with me...
I hate being a point, in an ocean of possibility,
you are an event on the horizon,
exponentially,
eventually,
affecting me,
and bending the light right into me,
a beam, that I feel
and again, soon forget.
I start where I ended,
again in a dream,
hurling through space,
at some vicious foreground,
the whirring reality,
it will never make sense to me
why I am this arrangement of atoms,
you, yours,
why my keyboard hasn't evolved to breathe,
how cells inside of me are spontaneously deciding to randomly propagate,
VIOLENTLY, molecules form a thought in my brain
light bounds off my eyes, but I feel it before I see it
the snap, the twist,
the bite and a catch,
falling through my dreams I land
and splinter plywood,
my blood runs and picks up little splinters,
my eyes become more and more white...
the bite and a catch,
falling through my dreams I land
and splinter plywood,
my blood runs and picks up little splinters,
my eyes become more and more white...
as my sockets grow darker,
it must be all the smoking I've been doing,
when trying, to balance, on a beam,
the choir hits a minor chord,
and I am again, unsure.
there used to be a fine line, between the unreal and real,
everything is clouded in a foggy verisimilitude,
a faint nostalgia, but still I doubt,
I find my consciousness falling outside my brain for a second,
and for the blink of an eye, I realize I'm objective,
and all of this is meaningless,
but I forgot what I forgot, forgoing the normal route home,
my brain makes extra time taking in the details of the until-then-unobserved,
stored for later use, the miracle of human matrixing
projections,
principle among them,
you,
you sweet girl, I almost hate you for it,
I can't go on, knowing you're the one dream
I've managed to smuggle into the real world,
you'll fade through my finger-tips, you are sand, God is the waves,
and I am the gentle icebergs, falling apart into the sea,
soundlessly
hold me, because I know it's impossible,
you're too perfect,
kiss me, because I know you can't
but you would if you could,
but you shouldn't,
I wander an icy plain alone,
a cape longer than several thousand yards,
a trail of mine, wrapped around a large tree,
arrow through a heart, my cape and bark,
bleeding into a fuzzy collection of,
pixels I can't remember
the sky black, white dots, pinholes in a lampshade
I stole you from a throne, somewhere in this strange space
and painted you to life, with my words, my thought
my amorous affections bred you into light,
but my curse, for you to be born so far away,
my need for you is an evolutionary instinct,
somewhere, deep down in my code,
I was taught that you would be the perfect partner,
but the concept of love ignores this base desire,
I would kill and be killed for you,
slay me, I'll take the blade,
hold me, kiss me,
scatter my atoms amongst the sea,
and watch how they, draw back in,
I'm one million shattered songs, the epithet of a cocktail,
contrast to you, carved from a single piece of ivory,
I am surface, you are mass,
together we are the math of the observable, and the whole,
I am shell, you are fill.
I am loud, you, underspoken,
grace me, with how few words you speak,
you equal the many I have spoken here,
and how oft have I spoken, and spoken wrong,
this life, such a vexing thing,
trife with idles and ides, strife
struggle,
and all of it, such a vague thing to describe,
do I describe you by what you speak, or have spoken, what you are, appear to be, were, shall be, shall appear to be, might be?
for you are the worlds biggest maybe,
you could be elsewhere...
or you could be with me...
I hate being a point, in an ocean of possibility,
you are an event on the horizon,
exponentially,
eventually,
affecting me,
and bending the light right into me,
a beam, that I feel
and again, soon forget.
I start where I ended,
again in a dream,
hurling through space,
at some vicious foreground,
the whirring reality,
it will never make sense to me
why I am this arrangement of atoms,
you, yours,
why my keyboard hasn't evolved to breathe,
how cells inside of me are spontaneously deciding to randomly propagate,
VIOLENTLY, molecules form a thought in my brain
light bounds off my eyes, but I feel it before I see it
the snap, the twist,
the bite and a catch,
falling through my dreams I land
and splinter plywood,
my blood runs and picks up little splinters,
my eyes become more and more white...
Literature
Nocte
Hiding from the beast,
From tree to tree,
Running in the dark,
I tell myself such things,
Slow- so it won't find you,
Breath.
These fires have scorched far and wide,
Leaving the scent of my former cinders to linger in my head,
Like some bad bender,
Warped memories encircling grey,
The ground is made of shattered glass,
Broken dreams.
No lilies remain,
To any kingdom I run,
In mirrors of liquid glass,
Surrealist battles are won,
And like fear,
The spider crawled from my mouth.
They are sedating everything,
Brush pixilated,
Focus changing,
Leaving me to run in the dark,
Caught in the eye of the storm,
Hiding in the calm.
Literature
The Fog
The Fog
shifts between states,
your moods are fault
zones and only you can sing
the mermaid song.
The body of water blots out
into distance of moss
broth. A kind of swampy
existence, like living
with mold and mice.
I'm nauseated by the constancy
of this map that goes nowhere.
This is a small mercy
for you, relying on the natural
phenomena that is
gravity, the geneological
magnetism that spits blood
and says, daughter,
this wasteland of us.
You emerge out
of that mud, hair sculpted
like a bronze goddess
and taught
fear to live inside me.
If I let you, you'll drown
me with your rituals,
rules, your menace,
a kind of mummery.
It leav
Literature
On Writing
all the words
all the senses
all the dirt and smell and roughness
the bursting heart
fresh cold water
CRASH of waves and then the ache within
trickling nothing tears and itching legs
all these things
someone wrote them, a bit.
How can you tell anyone
else? How can you thrust
the living today
into someone else's soul?
This is just a nut in a banana leaf.
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Comments5
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I can't believe no one has commented on this already.
This was just an...exhilarating read.
I could see, hear, touch, feel each and everything. Each one of your metaphors and comparison were powerful and subtle to perceive. This is some real beautiful work here.
To be honest, I would say more if I wasn't rendered speechless. Outstanding job.
This was just an...exhilarating read.
I could see, hear, touch, feel each and everything. Each one of your metaphors and comparison were powerful and subtle to perceive. This is some real beautiful work here.
To be honest, I would say more if I wasn't rendered speechless. Outstanding job.