Report Blog Entry
Back to the blue tomorrow
10 days away now it feels like music the chance to get
away from the empty containers beneath and across
and meta/micro counting the sink and everything in it
I always tri to live by the 4 or 5 words my
grandmother said back in 86 even if they’re lost
she’s lost now same as is the actuality of what she meant
What she said and how she lived.
10 days I learned about symmetry in a half chance thru glass
casting all that to one side
intrusive thoughts string a bow and fire w/o end at the horizon
This incarnation an inversion of the last
round nn round they go
all change
nonstop
long knives and dagger points
life like waiting then realising
only 5 hours left in the 10 ten days bit then it’ll be blue dots and pleb politics
i don’t really care for opinions over 10 days old and sociability is mandatory on account
of the last ice age
it means I can carry a conversation if you’d like
I prefer the use of hand gestures or throwing rolled up
welding gauntlets, like back on the steppe.
The first intrusive thought I remember was pulled
from a book with instruction to set a roundabout
rotating.
The exercise was to stop start the mental picture at will
And so it goes
I became hooked on a male abstraction and
wondering how this may compromise our goals
that’s a line from a movie its an effective way of containing
thoughts or possible answers or drawing conclusions soundly
10 days was long enough for the radiation burn to heal colour-wise
the hole is just above the belt so it pretends to be nickel rash but
I have a thing about symmetry so I can tell even though I don’t mind
That thing I do mind I mind because for 10 days+ there’s been nothing else between breaths
Just you & your intrusive thoughts and how you made them real
not so they
jump off the page real
real like you’re surrounded by containers you put hatred in
they fucking walk around tearing chunks off you
because your opinion is a lid
that suffocates
you wont let go so the moment becomes a carcass
I remember the 7 words my grandmother said
They’re still of no fucking use whatsoever
So patience brought a crooked smile
Nobody sees
There was a wisdom I ignored in the old days
It said;
There aint a story without three..
Far away from doubt & deceit, reruns
replay with all the subtlety removed
All the decadence & deliberate washed
clean of anxiety, angst.
Absolved of blood and scar tissue.
Just bare bones & absence rattling
I ask nothing, 'cause listening just aint in right now.
All this speak makes for the answers as chinks of
light or a draught you can follow for a time.
The question, weighted with bitterness says;
Is the alternative not worse?
Does dignity not die on the altar of the real?
I catch myself a zephyr while being publicly
humiliated by the Valkyraunties
Promise like fragrance of parma violets and hayjump injuries
The sage spoke of cold water and euclidean geometry-
How the trout goes after a fright, how advantage isn't always intuitive
The sisters take flight, as darkness pools then consumes without want
Kinetic dreams
Rhythmic and syncopated
'You know if you took every grain of truth in The Holly Wood
we could build a castle in the sky?'
There's a sliver of so green it's blue permeating everything
Promises of SCARLET on the billboards and behind every adblock in the land
A throwback to the old ways so they say. a dead cert.
listening watch
Let go of the real
Let go of illusion
Make em have it
Make your dream come
There's romance in the stars
But only blood in my back catalogue
Intrepid tales of misguided faith
Broken threads, expensive mistakes
I fester in a graveyard of empty containers
Bleached bones on broken teeth
Waiting for the singularity to crack
For the songs to sing tomorrow
Comments
Displaying 1 of 1 comments ( View all | Add Comment )
C.C.
Holy fuck! Are you Mount Etna? Cuz that shit just erupted, too.
https://www.foxnews.com/science/italy-mount-etna-erupts-twice-48-hours
by C.C.; ; Report