1. |
The Scheining
02:47
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A search followed by seizures. Teeth clamped on the gavel handle I will lurch forward, wallowing in knee-jerk displeasures of the flesh, the spectre of my future vocation sharpening the guillotine. The sepulchre unconcerned. The shoreline is leagues astern. A lecturer's broken speech. The more I relent to teachings best left abandoned, the more I begin to reach for treason to seal the breach – for heathens to burn in each far-flung destination within which pilgrims seek to pillage before they greet the guardians of deceit. Immersed in bureaucracy through my inaction. An appeal to hypocrisy, condemning the very tools I used to bury my reason. Twenty-nine years of labour in the mines, emerging soot-soaked into the hard-wired world outside. Blindfold affixed as the lunette descends. Arterial sparks from the motherboard smashed in my stead.
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2. |
Pilate's Pillory
02:41
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The fabled meeting place at the merging of extremes. The enabled inhaling their allotments of oxygen, rations of passion streaming down their faces in dollops of partisan reverie – veritable feasts. Reflexive conditioning the icebreaker to your hate sanctioned propaganda machine, exploiting our inbred animal nature. Nurture a semblance of self as incentive to the whole. A sentence that's spelled out and scripted in bold. A poison in the grail, and cheers to my health. Envoys sent in a gale that steer with sly stealth out of irons, and it's in their nature to nurture disbelief.
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3. |
Jewel in the Locust
01:21
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It’s a thankless profession that nonetheless attracts the masses. It must give the impression that a murder of crows will emerge from the ashes. Impeding the pleading that typically defines this sort of wreckless hopelessness are remnants of my pride. I’m innately aware that my mugshot is plastered in the hallways of has-beens. In a state of despair only countered by flashes of insight into past wins. Preceding this seething indictment of my life were countless years I tried to steer this gutted dreadnaught clear of coastal lights. Each and every night terror a waking dream. Each and every crossbearer sins alike, indeed. Remember me just as though I never laid these plans to leave.
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4. |
White Lies Matter
03:03
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Lights down, squinting to defang the mis-en-scene's impact. We sang carols at the doors of the others in whom our founding fathers deployed their seed. Huddled in tents. The science and art of causing pain to occur in conformity with ill intentions and a heightened sense of superiority. Untempered aggression when the ink blots the birchbark. No papers to serve, but plenty of trees to raze in lieu of acres that brushfires may burn.The pretense was always to learn, but spurning authority that yearns to expand is means assured condemnation and an outcome unlikely to be advantageous for emissaries. Wielders of dreamcatchers, weep for us while we put them to sleep. The discipline and craze of causing lies to infer your conformity. So, serve our pity party on hand and foot.So, serve as a reminder illustrated with spurs, scarring the body politic with token gestures and empty words.
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5. |
Die By Omission
04:51
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"It takes a real man to admit they've spent their luck. It takes a patriot to pull the the pin when struck. If you're savvy with your earnings, you'll prevail, and as you age, you'll learn what privilege entails." But which dirt road will be too overgrown to discern where we strode? Betray the confidence the crystal ball foretold. Acknowledge that all prophecy is bought and sold. Replace dependence with acceptance, play the fool - through mockery of self, transmute the golden rule. Can I reassemble what was spoken? I find that truer words were never broken. When probability proves false... please melt down your silver spoon. I have no inclination to consume. You're a shell of a guiding light - when cracked, the black hole is revealed. A fragment of a framework bent shapeless from the weight of mass appeal. Will I awake to another world, just out of range of all the constructs of the starstruck? Turn the page. Earmarked in the recorded works of profiteers as an example of genetic memory suppressed.
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6. |
Pernicious Circle
03:13
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The calendar unvaried year to year. The grid unflickering, The star chart retracted when it's clear that my lids are blistering from shielding my awareness to the light. A courtesy to what has come to be. Shovel soil on what is left of me. The peasantry may toil, but at least they see a harmony that's unburdened by monopolies of noble blood. At least they seize the day even when the gutters they're doomed to flood. At least they smile while I hammer at the glass inside this vial.
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7. |
Failing, Hapless Eve
04:16
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Liberty taxes strength and chivalry strikes your fancy. Burdensome are your victories, gurneyed far from what you can see. Calculate what enclosures will be nurtured through your scorn. Enervate, no composure. A world of hurt soothing the unborn harlequin inside Pandora's box. Slept in this shelter of eroded rock. Stars, crescents and crucifixes - vulture shock... and where are we in this colour scheme of shade? Who will lead the simpletons to everglades? We could bleed our uncertainty in spades, or we could feed on false sedition, thus enslaved. What has become of us? You're my failing, hapless Eve.
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8. |
The Wrong Goodbye
04:52
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Boxed in, locked out of a corridor but not yet dismissed. Flashlight duly monitoring, as my warden insists. At night in my wanderings, pacing, clenching fists. What use is there pondering justice in this City of Dis? Catalepsy of the soul, holding frozen in space. Splattered next to me, self-control - soldier nowhere, erased. As if I deserve this malice. As if my words disturbed the balance. You're curbing my inertia. Callous rubbed raw by my cowardice. Besmirched, devoured bliss. Bearer of earthly delights, spare them my god-given right. Ensnare us in rapturous light. Prepare me for cleansing this blight. Rob this narcissist of sight. We all see clearer when the outside world is grey. We all sleep soundly when the predator is prey. The snake choking on it's own tail in stunned disgrace, the circular argument swallowed in its place. Smite the serpent - leave him to be trampled beneath indifferent mobs. You can hear him pleading his ignorance between insufflated sobs. Ignite the final straw - fallacies in flames. Idiosyncrasies lay slain. Atrophied from a lifetime of lulling oneself into false acceptance of righteousness. It seems to be that when you promised me I'd earned my stripes that you meant the lash.
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9. |
Scuttled Skeletons
01:45
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Captions for unmarked photos, in drawers of medics, soldiers, pilots and generals. Actions from unnamed heroes, in pursuit of glory, and purpose, and legends worth repeating. Our weatherworn hands trembling. In the grip of each other's arms as armies advance, there is no chance of curbing what’s to come of the onslaught and coming to grips with it all. All once united disbanded. Trailblazers silenced and branded. One day, we'll be pulled from the undertow. One day we'll be fetched from the earth and we will be frolicking inside the skeletons of giants.
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10. |
Freak Occident
04:15
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Slight of hand claims credit for perceived ineptitude. Withstand what’s said in jest if one believes it’s true. Unplanned impregnation of the air with platitudes. The grandness of nations… won’t you spare a vapid tune? A string of stanzas steeped in slander, just in case they bring forth answers? Weeping actors spoke of grace, but turned their faces from the void before their eyes. The vacant space behind the cloth. Witness limitlessness personified when our iconoclastic militia bends scripture and severs the ties. Erosion of evangelism. How simple was the symbol devised? The splinter faction’s traction weakens when reversing up slides. Disturbed by the cannonball’s approach, you’ve served to protect a royal standard in the asp-tongued name of the host. Superstructure ruptured, smothered by drones. An earth-displacing groan. Rehearsing scathing criticisms in attics alone. Don’t heed a feral tone conceived inside the flooded lungs of heretics and crones. Constructed from our bones, the nuts and bolts of our alliance into which the wrench is thrown. The ache of eardrums blown. At stake is what remains of mirrored skyscrapers into which your flock has flown. We beckon from the centre of the earth, frames frozen in ice, our teeth sunk in the skulls of Mary, Joseph and the Christ.
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11. |
Housewarming Swarm
04:45
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Coaxed out of fitful sleep. The hoax I've pledged to keep unknown beneath this wreath of mistletoe and peat is free of the risk of exposure to all but the few I trust and sealed up. Of this I was so sure – goes to show my sober double must serve as a buffer to what I've discovered, much to my disgust. A juncture that allows me no route to recovery, only a lens into what has occurred. In service of isolation and indebted to your absence – still, I strike my journal to the nerve. I hesitate as I make a timid left and set foot in the room for the first time. Loosened baseboards, currentless neon lights. A pressure should lift as my roots burrow anew, but instead, I dwell on how he stood here too. This house and home is a sinking tomb.
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12. |
People of the Bookend
04:03
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Splattered by the melting pot of state. Holes in the mosaic – ascertain before you're mummified in red tape. Abhor the ropeburn smearing the napes of their 'radicalized' necks. Witnesses to their listlessness. A mistress on the side. Suppressing spray, a weakened flank. A weekend fling to thank for pranking their battalions with pseudo-friendly fire. You crank the strings of valiance 'till out springs deadly ire. Oppression in the service of impressionists that paint with slugs, rendering each measured stroke with ease, indifferent to the larger canvasses pleas. Nourishing a flame only to waft the scent of sulphur down the roads that once transcended borders. One people's birthright paves the way for another's pallbearers, and as an onlooker, I'm ashamed. Fall back from your settlements. Settle this.
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