Monday, April 25, 2016

wild type

teeth of the mountains
the song of the wind
in the cutting bass-
Those tracing movements
Where I become one
Nestled between the æther, and the earth and the sky
Where I am the rage of Sierra Nevada
blooming in the night
we are thirsty
for the poison and the machine
We are thirsty bitches
and I came to quench something as insatiable
as the discord of the Mojave
She dances, she dances like a ghost on the sprawling desert
Windswept setting sun
shedding feathers
the ballet of raptors unfolds
we are venom and chemical
awoken and new
kicking up dust
choking the perfume of Datura
As falcon and tercel
beating down on balmy air.
I feel so privileged
having experienced such a concert
under a waxing moon in a red sky
In the era of our ascension
I feel so powerful and beautiful
in terse theaters
beyond description
my home has made me fearless and brave
In the talons and toxins
devoid of implication
Our flowers burst in the darkness
Unable to contain the delight-
placing us in this universe
we roll like wingbeats
we fall like snow
and we rise like a golden and merciless sun.
where the cactus give us shelter
I feel so utterly complete
in the thunder of the sound
in the dream, that I am only beginning to understand.

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

excetera excetera

deep house
Darkweb demons.
Hades underworld
Fusion incarnate
As fabric and fleece and technology
Vehement in reverberation
Vengeant with implication
Caveat upon caveat
this trial penumbra
the facets of this sequence
the epsilon of my reasons
I need to awaken
Surface the eternal
shed the fabric
While the dream still persists
with chisel and synthesis
rhystic and clear
breaching the unknowable
as science and excellence
embroidered as sequins to silk
caviar and cunning
an aesthetic I cannot share
they whisper divisively
upon the gross
upon this land
from the sky
by the fist
sizzling concrete
cooking our world alive
as a crustacean shrieking from its carapace
one final time
as we are to be shed,
belligerently and incrementally
leaving me devoid of empathy
disappointingly the serendipity
rendered casually and quickly
this rhetorical telepathy
communicating so deftly
none go as thin
in those thin places
where the wind of the void
pulls at you
always inwardly
dragging you asunder
within the tension
of holding on and letting go
there is an aspect
that anchors
the facets of this terrain
some tale of context and containment
of a scale so vast it must be seen through time
to give the time of proliferation
to be used as a cats cradle
warp the spacetime
pull thought into reality
bending the nexus to my needs
it is curiosity
deeply I wish to know
as there is something
in fruitless discoveries
assertions in this decadence
taste the hedonism
eclipsing the smaller creatures
dissecting the constructs
as a grimoire
calling out sorceries
into the eye of a storm
there is a part of me that is disinterested
there is this part of me that is searching
there is a part of me that is preoccupied
and there is a part of me that isn't really there at all.