The Revival Verses, or Especially Gently SoftTo find a face in despair, to trust in base,The Revival Verses, or Especially Gently Soft by jamboe89
Knowing little of the way, the mentions,
How can one guide who they themselves are following?
It is the dire to question, the dire to inspire elevation.
Crumbs on the road, the new elder, old young,
Unequivocally abandoning sense, the heated compromise,
Successive streams, the relationship heartily dowsed,
When a man is initiated, brings in the dripping light.
Coloured cubes that cool with the early thunder,
Complex series of dice that alternately correct,
Randomise to be in blessed order, reiterating the blunder,
Similarly sound, expecting the worst, anticipating the book.
New hinges for cats, the berry to mediate with the bacteria,
Simply astoundingly complex the ferocious petal,
The devil uses his echoes, the vibrations of the switching earth,
Opening the box dark, finding in success a poor metal.
Hidden unveiled in the retrospect.
Overdrive on overdrive, it is a special speciality,
The apparently tolerable intolerable.
Crying by the bay,
Smiling At DuskBreeding meaning out of ghastly vacuum, the fuming Sun translatesSmiling At Dusk by jamboe89
Over onto the Earth his sons of fire, the planets folding in deadly time,
The long, broken gasp – a terror stifling, newly bounded,
I’d like to pat the man on the back who first uttered the word, ‘intolerable’,
My kind of optimism in turning on the car headlights in the still-light afternoon,
A fierce battle on the other side of flowered hill found too soon,
Either a fresh outrage, or reminded of every single outrage of the past.
Plenty of material to work from. Says that there has to be a satisfactory answer.
An obscenely uneven life, supremely wobbling the designer’s reputation,
He looks at my life, looks at the blueprints, looks at me, at the blueprints, sighs -
The bartender who can’t drink, the fading light soon pulsed to blinding,
What’s one to think in a sea-storm? What’s one to do but hope?
Some dark suffering, a silent maelstrom embraced with but one lace of light,
dear sacred, unnameable, unapproachable youeverything is interconnected.dear sacred, unnameable, unapproachable you by ghostinafog
on that rough patch of a slippery road
in the passenger seat i stared into the noise wall.
i knew then.
to carry this conviction in the purse
of my stomach like a leaden bullet.
there are ways to smuggle this
and make it out alive, i repeat.
she the catalyst,
empty bullet case
shifted gears and became a stranger.
you turn around and see
a wall of a slippery road.
one to zero,
limp neuron. and i believe
we all switch modes
but is it circular and are there ways back to foreground.
i am god i am fraud,
(as in) here is where we converge
and conversely split up.
here at self-pity our cultures briefly meet
listen i do not play chess.
i am not faking it when i say i am reaching out.
it is very clear that i am on the edge.
and nightsky synapses lock arms
the circumference of the
suspension bridge before it
alonestill the olympic lights.alone by ghostinafog
a bitter almond breeze,
soul-numbing & grounding.
and a band of thugs, and a woman waiting
in vain to catch a ride.
further and further away.
none of this will ever be captured on film.
you can erase the place but you can't
stamp out the stink
and how it accretes and why do you remain
so sharply eagle-eyed uncomfortable sober. pushing for a space
between molecules where you feel you are not
into the sanitizing chill of an empty bridge and highway.
a fascinated child,
your icy mittenprint on the kiosk window
now shattered but you know
there will be dahlias again
but by then
you will have crossed the street and
dry heaved grotesque self