black cloud gods [experimental]

thrumming, drumming, the sound will be coming,
softly, quietly, building, anticipation, breathing,
we yearn for the instigator, crashing on our heads,
nothing matters, death encompasses all,
seven years since the first time, two since the last hospital emergency room, charcoal filling stomach appointment.

Machines, taking over, consuming,
advertising campaigns, I’m leaving you with the brilliance,
the remarkability of the impact of a wailing voice,
empathy and compassion failing to understand
the true nature of our destruction,
this inability to learn from a history filled with mistakes and hatred,
but don’t, don’t, don’t ever kiss these lips
because this will all only ever be poison,
this will kill you in the end, as everything does
but in the meantime would it not be better
to listen to the melodic bass line and strain, gain, fain
to get away from this, this test of torture, misery, sublimity,
surreal circumstances eventuating the premises to promise
on the order of chords that nothing is as nothing does
but to believe in an after is something only to condole
the frailty and nothingness of the belief in life,
the positivity cannot protect the poor when they waltz from eternity,
you cannot save the world in a lifetime you argue with yourself
so why the bother of trying to attempt anything at all?

So what if the government’s corrupt? at least in our country
they’re trying to do the right thing by the mass,
so what if they don’t align directly with your personal beliefs
at least we don’t live in oppression and dictatorships,
at least we have our own powers to vote and abolish,
we create our own misery and prisons, we are our…..

stop. rewind. train a-coming, time is trumpeting memories.

trigger tempts, taunts, tumultuous turmoil echoes,
drowning vortex of curses, whisper, whisper, I can’t hear your screaming,
gently flowing, caress, stomach churning,

music swimming from feet upwards

holding head to hands, encase, embrace, erase,
I love experimentalism in the morning.

Ponder on the thunder igniting the room, noise, Vermouth, tap, tap, tap, tamper tap,
pause on the keys, chimes, but not from the church
are they the truth of the matter to time the harmony with more temperament instruments?

Such a simple song, filled with small complications
designed specifically to overwhelm and condemn innocents
who will only be lost in their identities if given a chance at Nirvana.

Drums kick in with a whine from a speaker,
simplicity still speaks with passion and a lash
to tell mystery from memory, love from lust,
a squealing note of the harmonica, am I in love?

Ha, no, but that would be another farce,
I fall into infatuation with the ease of a professional,
I am merely a tool used and abused by and from a lesson
but an exercise in demeaning values I wonder at my futility
question,
am I lonely?

I know I am.

But to ask and ask again will cause uncertainty to enter
and envelop, so I post it in an envelope,
quietly I still think,

seven years since the first time,
two since the last,
a month since the end.

another shift. uplift.

zylophonic ring tonic,

give me a chance to smirk
such an invitation to grin could chance
an encounter with plonk and dance,
a rigmarole of a disease to see a fling,
reminds me engagingly of sweet energetic music,
tempered with depression in lyrical beauty.

This is a new end.