1. |
Contraptionist
04:11
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In a saturated hue
of twilight and blue
reflection unravels a line
its tension curdles senses
its center an infection
a resurrection of harbored lies.
A creak in the floor
a turn of the door
rips fear from the undefined
a cultivated mine runs blood from the eye
with no device to bring you home but time.
There in sight
a plain view of a system
too real for depiction
too banal to be fiction
a still contradiction
to what is known.
The overcast vault not a mask anymore
there is nothing beyond that can be restored
nothing to find and nothing to wonder
the wanderer has lost his way.
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2. |
Disremember
06:16
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As the sun of this sky dies
another begins to rise
and we won’t remember
the lessons of yesterday.
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3. |
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A fragrance, a taste, a familiar face
can tickle the brain through time and space
evoke the map to find your place
but X is seldom frank.
Look around engaging crowd
and be anywhere
anywhere but here
so when they’re gone
you can rewrite the way the phrase has carried on.
I have acted in practice to disappear
neglecting arrangement from engineer
always encrypted by the back doors of difference
denying assistance, insisting this weight on my own.
This is the way back.
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4. |
A Sea Collapsing
05:23
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The ambient ornament stonewalls the elements
establishing basis for an ongoing mutual attachment
paired with the instance of habit
your optical counterpart
caught between the mirrors
fights the periodic rise and fall.
Give up son if you don’t got none
and join the rest of the dead.
Ambition is the first step toward failure
so lay those dreams to bed.
But if you’re going to strike
strike heavy
strike heavy, he said
strike heavy while the embers are red.
When the mind decides to leave the body behind
color the lines akin
see the rendered ghost you wrote disappear
like a photograph of the wind.
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5. |
With Standing Giants
04:34
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I died with the leaves
and stood with the trees
immobilized by sequence
bonding with doom.
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6. |
K100
07:12
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Each day when I wake up
I wish the world away
ignoring the shivery pockets
filled with reasons to remain.
If I could tear the veil
and step to the other side
look deep in curiosity
at all of those who have died…
I’m sorry to tell you
good things never happen
it doesn’t take much for the spirit to decay.
Under the ballast of old weary Atlas
the meaning collapses
under the arches of passage and bone
guidance sets like a sun made of stone.
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7. |
Upon Death of the Body
05:36
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The ground is frozen
and it’s too cold to sleep
think I’ll just lay here
let the clouds bleed on me.
Drowning in the fossil instinct
of this axiomen
breathing in the abstract
to suffocate the black.
The impulse to destroy
fails to meet its motive this time
migrate the soul
to restore my native ways again.
Light seeks the center
but all I can remember between
death and forever is dawn.
Predicate the slate as cloud
the echoplane releases shroud
this place it seems to me
the same as dream.
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