Member Since: 26/08/2007
Band Members: A mirrored construction of the eternal, in the finite world. Listen to the music.
Influences: . . . everything . . .
Sounds Like: Blakean realms...
* * * Poem: Digital Vortex Gong * * *
The Internet is just a tool /
To make more foolisher the fool /
And to the wise nothing to hate: /
It's just a thing to contemplate. /
It happily lacks passivity /
Unlike last century’s TV /
Yet like the old, the new is keen /
To have us stare into a screen. /
This means, of course, our children will /
Who should be out of doors until /
Exhausted, expanded and attuned /
To winds among boughs and scent of June. /
Much like a reversed sound of gong /
The digital vortex grows strong /
Builds louder gradually until /
It screams and mallet strikes at will. /
If poets want their rightful place /
Then start by singing of that face /
Gazing, serene, on distant lands /
As mallet drops from tired hands.
Some poems . . .
* * *
Cycles of Mind * * *The mind renews and continents do drift /
Slow crawling, rearranging hemispheres /
Remake themselves but keeping memory /
Of that uncommon state before the rift /
Begin a single island in ocean /
A self-contained perfection of a sort /
But setting sail from it all waters lead /
A sailor back to those same shores again /They fragment, sections wander slow as stars /
Each undertakes a steady migration /
Whole seasons, systems, cities on its back /
With interlocking shorelines, ancient scars /The very edge of thinking is bequeathed /
Down fault lines; canyons dark deeply submerged /
Subsume whole tracts of knowledge inch by inch /
Feed hungry, patient chaos underneath /Which vomits novel matter into day /
That cools from liquid red to solid gray /
Beginning fertile continents of thought /
Beneath the sun and stars and welcome rain /* * * The Palace of Dazzling Light * * *I’m breathless in the blurting glare /
After so dark a drive this summer’s night /
Convenience store beneath peripheral moon /
Shouts its fluorescence as if on a dare /
To shame the taut circle - Earth’s satellite /
That inches low behind the roof and soon /
Will hide its powder beams down there. /As I pump gas, two white moths flit, /
Their stroboscopic dance seems choreographed /
To break the blackened spell that tortures me: /
Fearing my face in rearview mirror’s slit /
I drove, my thoughts so circular I laughed /
But not with joy or subtle irony - /
With unhinged sound of fuses lit. /Inside the store is brilliant light /
I shiver, thrilled to leave the dark so dead /
Exploring aisles of goods I find myself /
Wishing to stay here, illumined all night /
The girl behind the counter turns her head /
She sees me staring blankly at a shelf /
And asks “Can I help you tonight?†/Her query startles me out of my trance /
And into a dimension without flaw /
She is the queen of this Palace of Dazzling Light /
Presiding over the customers’ courtly dance /
Perceiving that I bow in reverent awe /
She summons with a nod a helpful knight /
He guards and watches me askance. /The radio offers classic rock /
A song I’ve heard a thousand times before /
But generating emeralds of sound /
Paving the way to my queen’s purple smock /
“My lady, will you do me rare honor?†/
Her lustrous eyes assent and I am drowned /
Submerged in perfect love you dare not mock. /How many hours of bliss have we? /
How many perfect moments are we dealt? /
How many spells will break in this strange night? /
Each one that snaps takes me further away /
From dim realities I thought I felt /
But never in my bones did it feel right /
My queen reverts - an employee. /I pay my cash, avoiding eyes /
And to my exile walk the dirty floor /
Remember every detail on my path /
Yesterday’s newspapers, pretzels and fries /
And last, red “Closed†sign, askew on glass door /
I start my car and move into night’s wrath /
The moon in mirror, sinking, cries. /
* * * September Evening * * *The first cold night is shockingly complete /
There's nothing tentative in icy breeze /
And orange sun still glinting through the trees /
His weakened, dying glare confers no heat. /Dim, sodden browns and silver mist on pond /
The yellow leaves and brave, resilient green /
Into the clay-like gray of evening lean /
As droplet kiss turns ice on tender frond. /Remarkable that season’s simple change /
Can stir up sediment from muddy bottom /
Emotions, buried deep some distant autumn /
Revive, possessing us, ferocious, strange. /Articulation of these things won’t come /
So silently we walk, awkward a while /
But not for long - for warmth the final mile /
We cling to one another like we’re young. /Above, a starry gorgeous blue vacuum /
Gives fine cosmic perspective to this scene /
But measuring this road by steps serene /
We train our eyes on twinkling lights of home.
Record Label: Unsigned