Continue reading "Stolen Silence"
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]]>Cut off at the last moment
a plan in pieces when the picture was near complete
rain on watercolors when the day was bright
and words unspoken brought unrelenting night
One more day
a sunrise away
everything unraveled in confusion
so many words I wanted to say
If there was just one thing you knew
kept inside for the moment to be right
could have been that last handhold
for you to climb into the light
Cold now the hearth and gone the soul
never knowing but maybe wishing
still fallen before truth was told
structure broken
support was decayed too long
sunken into the sea
I was not a siren but should have sang my song
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]]>Continue reading "No destination"
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]]>I like to view this in an entirely different way. We are heading towards death. It is the invisible barrier that we will one day encounter on our trip through spacetime. We are like the skydivers that have switched to the flying squirrel suits. We are plummeting at near-terminal velocity with the illusion of control.
We can modify our pathway along the course of gravity, but ultimately that great attraction still wins. There are no parachutes on this ride. You do not get to safely land and try it all again. (Unless reincarnation is true, I suppose…) You meet the filter at terminal velocity and the electricity that runs the sub 60-watt bulb in your skull flickers out. The signals to and from your amygdala and vagus nerve stop and your coprocessors wind down.
Then the mass of symbionts that have been travelling with you start the process of breaking down your meat suit for further processing.
But you – your energy has ether moved on to a dimension we are unable to perceive within this flesh, or reaches a resting ground state.
Death does not come for you. It quietly waits for you to arrive.
Will you be on fire when you hit, or just another cold breeze coming through the door?
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]]>The post Etching appeared first on Bass Bastard.
]]>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.
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]]>The post Want appeared first on Bass Bastard.
]]>It disguises as need
it knows when that has failed
it wants
the echo not decaying
just reverberating
I want
becoming obsession
lying to me that I need
I want
It
the hollow one needing me to consume in it’s name
forever empty
forever in me
it feeds on misery
If there is happiness it is not
if there is growth it is rot
it triggers on the absence of it
it needs it
it is the ever present drive
of want
it gets in your head
it drives false need
it leaves you hungry
when it makes you feed
consume for want
It wants to be bigger
It wants to be small
It wants the shiny things
It wants it all
it wants nothing
so it can be filled again
it is empty
so the want can begin
I want
It
to
be
silent
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]]>Continue reading "Shadows and Friends"
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]]>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
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]]>The post Don’t do drugs kids… appeared first on Bass Bastard.
]]>Let me know if you want the source for your own entertainment.
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]]>Continue reading "Junk Drawer"
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]]>Digging through the junk drawer
finding shit I knew was lost
A bic lighter
random keys
to locks that have lost their relevance.
The noise on the peripheral persists
so I dig through another container
a t-shirt I do not recall
a sock with a skull
a 3D printed polygonal cat
But there are no spoons
Each container full but empty
and the clatter at the periphery persists
a dull roar from outside
reminding me that reality still exists
Earplug container, only one side
mints of a dubious flavor
keep digging
the hell of it all is I need to go out there
Where are the fucking spoons?
I find sufficient noise in the rectangle
no wires, just cacophony
the silverware will have to wait for later
reality awaits
two shoes
two socks
underwear and pants
torso covered by something hanging
at least I have a knife.
slip on the shades.
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]]>Continue reading "Looking Back Blind"
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]]>Memory is not a shelter
it is a trap for the unprepared
a hole in the row, as cavities grow
and the rictus is mistaken for smiles
a shell of a comfortable mirror
pointed back but not pointed to self
never looking ahead to the alternate paths
just falling into the concentric patterns of death
Shatter the walls of reverie
tradition and how the things were
a trap set by the lazy unconscious
and the death rattle of growing’s last breath
Memory is for reference
Now is for life
the future is chaos blooming
Stop digging and start nurturing existence
Lose the anchors
lower the stones
breath and walk free into now
create today without false resistance
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]]>Continue reading "Last Payment"
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]]>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
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]]>The post Unstructured appeared first on Bass Bastard.
]]>The wind sighs by me
whispering secrets loved long
Memory in scent
Trees murmur to all
Hushing the children playing
Rustle fallen clothes
The clouds drifting through
They have witnessed it before
mourning comes too soon
The water ripples
sorrow given form
A drop remembers
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]]>