1. |
Voices and New Eyes
02:53
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Do you wish to disappear?
Be gone from your body
And float alone in conscious bliss?
The world is not elsewhere.
Look around:
Everywhere is the blooming buzzing confusion.
But your eyes have always been strong,
Able to focus, unmoved by pleasure.
But once things get taken away
Your concentration breaks and more eyes surround you.
This is your offering which you could have
Volunteered in a different life.
A different life: another focus fantasy.
If you look long enough, ghosts appear,
And voices tell you of another place,
And force your lips to repeat over and over:
I want to kill myself
I’m going to kill myself
I’m going to kill myself
I’m going to kill myself
Dreams come which break you apart
And remind you of the voices saying
I’m going to kill myself.
One day it will stop being a playful refrain
And what will you do then?
What will you do when tempted, that gun
Whispering softly under your bed,
Informing your dreams,
Adding to the cacophonous gallery of voices?
They cause you to blanche,
That lip smacking, succulent, innocent body.
Petrified (or wanting to be), chained before them.
More eyes are summoned by your involuntary reaction.
Your life is an involuntary reaction:
Started, kept, and ended that way.
Who was the cause?
Was it your different life?
How alone were you given such choices?
How did you choose to be here and choose?
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2. |
Distance
03:20
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What creates distance? Is our spit and spew propelling us away from no difference? Why is it that you must climb high and see everything the same for the chance to leap to your death and hope there is rebirth, instead of regression or nothingness?
What brings them to me?
But does not bring them?
Both ways I am the same
In both sight I am the same
In both ways I feel the same
But to each one I feel different
They feel the same
Blood pouring and shaping what to be brought
Recognize there is none.
Recognize why the fuck we are here
Bleed profusely as you eliminate difference
And find out it was all fucked.
A fuck is what we are
A horror is what we are
Shitting, touching and documenting a bringing together
Now can stop if it’s real
Truer than compass
A haze of static black and white path
Surrounds those who remained in hell from wonder
Worse than shaping the wind
Do we judge by this sense?
Sometimes a form strides in
And you stop speaking in hypotheticals
We all speak of others before and beyond
And all divorces from every
How could you waste your life like this?
You are wasting your life like this.
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3. |
Animated Stone
04:25
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Trauma undeserved let me be
I ache for the light but melt
Withering, succumbing to my mind
Broken, and swirling on the past
And exactly what I want is unknown,
But to harm myself more than I do
Believing lies, replaying pain
Preventing you from seeing me
Oh can’t look at you
Remain impenetrable
The devil chants to me
Would that I had Icarus’ father
To animate this stone
I am not Dedalus’ son
I sank to the piteous sea
Come undone
I wish to come undone
My heart flutters but still I’m wrecked
By avoiding assumed fate
I am not him
I am not strong
I am a hermit on a mountain face
I express with pen not in flesh
How many sabotaging letters have I written
Spell me out of me
Cast me open
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4. |
Limping Home
05:47
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A snap of bone alights all manner of fluid. Liquid rushes to replace solid. Ice floods if given allowal. Yet what grime cakes to the past and to all surfaces of your home. Scrub it off to make it clean and fall down a ditch and destroy your fragile architecture. And yet your home is broken and limping because no one can guarantee pleasure or satisfaction to we renters. The homeless lock their secrets away until we unwilling join them.
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5. |
The First Trial
03:00
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Come as a sickness and plead to me,
Twirling loathsome broken bread.
My sympathetic eyes admit no kindness.
Charity interrupts a charitable introduction concerning high things.
Turned away and belonging,
Truthfully or not,
I am visited & pestered by demons,
When only the long song has just begun.
“Give to us your possessions that we might
sever you from our misgiven home.
We entreat you in the name of hunger
& desire, that we might feast on what is
not rightfully yours.”
Only foreign voices and putrid whiffs
Dizzy me in this, my first day,
But I refuse all divisions.
To dispel is to refuse on this day.
I cannot know what will be;
Only glimpses of what is.
Hardened steel.
Spouted marble.
Wisps astray.
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6. |
An Abyss
03:58
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We are granted no solid ground
Mysteries become fetish
You hide so much from others
So why not hide creeping urgent void?
Your walking eyes stare at the ground
So when you fly, why pretend you've never crawled?
Your happiness won't last, nor will you
Suspended and convinced you are different
Than every single thing you ignore
Where is the pleasure in perseverance
When one move gives you blessed nothing?
Too weak to stop mistakes
Unheeded effects you ignore
In your safe house or gas chamber
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7. |
K.I.M.S.
04:10
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We are worth no more than a whipping,
From sunsketcher to past selves in play.
To brush away the dust clouding us from creation
Is a task for a life.
They say it becomes meaningless without struggle,
But look down at your useless object and body
To find nothing complete,
Nothing to come,
No one looking,
No one ever loved.
I am for this hatred surround,
I am for this inevitable gun,
As slow leaks the way,
Laden and hoarse, disintegrating.
Crystallized escape behind my back.
If they saw me once who would be?
Whose voice would flutter and whine,
Given so lovely to a concrete me?
Gained in obsessions
Torturous cycles of loathe
End in escape
Far release
You swing between boredom and pain
You are no starred
You say to say
Circled in heart, circled in heart
Harm home
Again sever the waiting
And deliver an end
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8. |
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Pretend a truth to see what relief comes
The pain of held back
By what's always been there
To be released as a thing you're trying to justify
What if you could let it be?
Stop pushing the repulsion away?
And lean to some kind of peace
Free from worrying impossibility?
To be able, for the first time,
To talk, without a roiling pain inside.
Covering all ways with material anxiety--
A sheet of chaos inblown, passable only by miracle.
For within is an answer, whose couragegiving name
might grant me a future that I often doubt.
So,
Let loose name, action, or shackle
To become free from the false desire
Scarred into you,
Who lost nothing but petty time.
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