etching its way through the fractal road practical stowed in the crevices
psychic ceviche but there is no lime
ticking in the aftermath when there is no time

taste the acid etching through the crevasse under the corpus callosum, widening the divide between what we calculated and what was chosen

Sour thoughts and smooth brains talking about soft hands and black stains on lung scans but not enough miles on my airplane scans to smoke a camel in quicksands…

Where were we?

susurrations of scales over sands expands the bands of spectrums still unseen in the violence of the liquid scream
the only comfort in the taiga is the lack of scales and thermal vision, making the frisson of fear of the enlightening one

the glowing son

the burning sun

am I the only one?

But this fertile garden now frozen in fear, the fertilizer steaming in the fresh fallen ice
looking for the navigation device
or just the vice
that drove the motor
the engines
over the edge

the irony of freezing to death staring into the eldritch fusion reactor we call god.

The post Etching appeared first on Bass Bastard.

always there
a hand, a smile, a sound, to lead or follow
loved and lost
when was the last time I said I’d see you tomorrow?

I’ll see you tomorrow
Until the days are no longer numbered
the silence sucks in sound
and every time it leaves me number

a last goodbye
she was on her way to help, to give
the road was her home,
the road was the last place she lived

Always loving
a helping hand, advice, an ear
loved, lost, gone
but somehow always near

I’ll see you tomorrow
Until the days grow long and ends
I’ll see all of you
all of my shadows and friends

I’ll take pain over apathy
The scars stitching me together with love
holding together
when I don’t know what I’m capable of

When I am a shadow
and the last light that would have been me reaches the ground
Just wait until tomorrow
and your road takes you where you are bound

I’ll see you tomorrow
Once the days have passed the horizon
once more in hearts and eyes
and the tears no longer cloud your vision

The post Shadows and Friends appeared first on Bass Bastard.

Away from the scarred and broken
mending lines and pain
A confession long unspoken
of plans too long refrained

To tell the truth to myself
would shatter me away
when I look at what is left inside
there’s nothing left to say

Hatred left a wasteland
rage a scorched path
violence was the answer
but the question’s never asked

born into all the world could teach
before the mind could grow
who is it now, what can become
something I can never know

So I pay myself a visit
Across the ashes and the flame
should I peel away another scar
I’ll never be the same

The post Last Payment appeared first on Bass Bastard.

The feeling of impending something quiets
the shadows shrinking but still looming defiant
The void keeps calling, but goes to the machine
convinced alerts are red but the lights are all green

I want to know, before that moment that I go
To see it coming before I face that last breath of cold
Brace for impact or embrace the real fact
but I want to go before the suffering takes hold

Living in agony to distract from the hurt
growing my fears in my mind’s fertile dirt
comfort finds me and rocks me to rest
until the voices rise up and tighten my chest

No pills to calm me, just seeking out arms
the kind to embrace, or the kind to do harm
Mother earth don’t deny me my natural right
to be aware of what’s coming and a chance to fight

I want to know, before that moment that I go
To see it coming before I face that last breath of cold
Brace for impact or embrace the real fact
but I want to go before the suffering takes hold

Money can’t buy happiness, but it buys all the pills
it pays for the faceless and pays all the bills
Filthy paper tuck intimately behind tight strings
the touch then the absence of all that it brings

The lies whispered from inside the skull
keep the sleep meter empty and adrenaline full
The void keeps calling, but goes to the machine
convinced alerts are red but the lights are all green

I want to know, before that moment that I go
To see it coming before I face that last breath of cold
Brace for impact or embrace the real fact
but I want to go before the suffering takes hold

I want to be ready when the suffering takes hold

The post Ready? appeared first on Bass Bastard.

I was threatened with hell today
Filled with the memories of the places I’d play
Where at least the suffering was ordered and expected
And the quiet solitude of being left alone; neglected.

My visitor spoke of past visits we had
Small talk filling the space filled with air gone bad
Silver linings of the accidents finding a cure
The pain was cleansing of I could endure

We called up God and asked what made them irate
they said it was who made them that was filled with hate
They were dreamed up by us needing an excuse
for the shit that we did and all the abuse

We pretended that service was what we required
but in gods we created the reasons we desired
to be righteous in the depravity we sought
sold our souls for excuses and that’s what we bought

The post T Time appeared first on Bass Bastard.