Nightfall, Hushed And Frozen Stood The World On Its Tiptoes,

In the incomprehensible maze of personhood, somewhere in me there is a tangle whose causal knot is you.

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The lizard scurries back into its hole, as the sky above is wedded in a unison of coral and blue. The procession is clouded by a wreath of shadow, pockets of light gathering to pay homage to the departed. ‘Rainbow dreams’ call to be found.

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Indigo roses, idyllic nights and stolen almosts’.

Winds of Hy-brasil fondle softly the body

stretched on the grave of the buried gods of music

and forlorn hands over the field of forget-me-nots,

held lovingly at the chasm’s precipice.

Forget your thorns, mon amour,

and you’ll see why you mustn’t gather dreams—loves—

that have been left to get lost and embedded

in crevasses between thwarted desire and the wistfulness of

a childhood unspoken. Your wandering eyes on the evening star

and your tired hands in my reluctant hold.

And for once the night isn’t marred by children entwining

and entangling her silent melody with their laughter.

.

.

.

…

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Coherence as a virtue is praised too much

the song of achilles, madeline miller // 1 samuel 18:1, kjv translation of the bible // wuthering heights, emily brontë // memory, @aristosmusical // sonnet xvii, pablo neruda // [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in], e.e. cummings // “the origin of love”, hedwig and the angry inch // star trek iii: the search for spock, dir. leonard nimoy

Frosted glass between rain and life

I run my hand through the same old withered branches,

Drenched in the same old tired rain,

Far away the sunset harbours the lost gold of

Odysseys gone by, and if the wind were to hide

Within it some unremembered glow from the land

Of unknown secrets, the evening will gently

Whisk away the covers of the coquette,

And reveal to us a maiden under the bent willow,

Sweet as the apples from the orchards where our dreams

Were buried. She will beckon for the children

To gather around the fire and tell them the story

Of Zerah and Zulamith, whilst we twist the

Slender branches of the cherry tree into a throne

Fit for the brides of heaven to recline on,

Place at the altar a wreath of dead roses,

And hope that the silent fragrance borne to the shore

Is enough for the sea to give up the child

She drew to her heart in death’s storm.

…

And dare I tag anyone? @pollosky-in-blue perhaps you’ll like the story?

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keep thinking about that richard siken interview where he's talking about simplifying the metaphor, by removing the "is" — and the moon, terrible. the distance between the object and the thing to which it is likened to falls away, it feels [it reads], smoother, unhindered by simplified vocabulary. and so, it becomes alive, breathing.

its the same way sally rooney has removed quotation marks, and her writing feels smoother from it, subtler, a more coherent story where there is no stepping in our out of characters. everything falls in line, the veil draws back: the distance between character/reader is removed and instead of having the feeling be cut up by speech marks – there is a greater intimacy. the boundary is gone. the feelings of the character no longer at a distance to yourself, the reader is immersed in the skin of the character. no longer a book away.

i see the same thing in the internets refusal to Capitalise. (realise how you just read that word differently? your internal tone of voice heightening at that C?) thats again, removing the distance [!], keeping a hold of that intimacy with the reader. cherishing that tender bond.

its interesting, because siken says he needs to rely on the reader to make the associative leap when the "is" is left out. the same is true for rooney, i think. the lack of quotation marks demands attention. with an unfocused an divided mind, the lack of speech marks can easily be more annoying than smooth, stopping the flow of which the text invites the reader into. the capitalization of words is a stop too, a poem with uneven syllables: an irregular heartbeat ruining the pulse of the rhythm.

comparative words, quotation marks, and capitalized words – they all stop the blood-flow of the text. disrupt the rhythm. cut the flow short. maybe im simply very sensitive to these things, maybe i think too much about literary devices, but i love this style of writing. this stripping down – this removal of boundary and convention. the moon, terrible [how incredible!!] more please <3

The wind calls, a worn tale

twisted with the wry smiles of damsels

bemused and the blossoms of enchantment a-plenty

in the hands of knights exalted.

A puzzling air settled about the spectacle,

as the child sought eternity’s ill traveled lane.

Elusive youth caught in vain at her fly-away ardor

And laid bare her fragmented joy.

The silence of the day startled her,

Frivolous and temporal. Of what poisoned lake of

transcendence had she drunk?

Morose and frightened the child grew,

Farther and farther he strayed after a wayward fancy.

Impermanence was the derisive echo of decadence

from the hearth of the abyss and

the nightfall of the heavens.

.

.

.

Eternity and impermanence are interchangeable in the verse.

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cym as fav lyrics

Aaaaaaa anon you must forgive me for being so late about it, I had one hell of a ride choosing song lyrics *pants as if I'd been running*

But eeee it will be a long post-

• @shecriesalonemp3

"Listen close and don't be stoned

I'll be here in the morning

'Cause I'm just floating

Your cigarette still burns

Your messed up world will thrill me

...

Alison, I'll drink your wine

And wear your clothes when we're both high

Alison, I said we're sinking

But she laughs and tells me it's just fine

I guess she's out there somewhere"

- Alison (Slowdive)

• @its-toasted

"Take everything you have in front of you

Make every movement, do it to the groove

You will not be happy for long if you're working

And what would be the point if it did ever surface?

...

Wake up to the rhythm of the city and I try to remember

Even my brothers have some trouble with

Each other since since those things fell apart

It's the way that things are

It's the way that it is

...

Even when you split me up, groovin' to the sound of the laughter

And if I listen to it closely I can

Still hear all the love in his heart

Every time I take a look at the skyline it makes me feel better

'Cause I just miss you down here where the other people try to move on"

- Blue Coupe (Twin Peaks)

• @deviocat

"Oh, you can't hear me 'cause I sing to a different age

And you should fear me 'cause I believe in a different age

But I live in the city that lives in a different age

Oh, I live in a city that lives in a different age

Where all the poets are writing memoirs

And I'm still singing songs

Oh, all the poets are writing memoirs

And I'm still singing songs"

- A Different Age (Current Joys)

• @lacexleaves

"I used to think of ferris wheel light sounds

The Friday hum of neons and blue

But now they're like circular cages

Of grated tin and rusted wind

Hey, now, who really cares?

Hey, won't somebody listen

Let me say what's been on my mind

Can I bring it out to you

I need someone to talk to

And no one else will spare me the time"

- Hey, Who Really Cares? (Linda Perhacs)

• @francesco-bernoulli-gang

"Angels smoking cigarettes on rooftops in fishnets in the morning with the

Moon still glowing

And here comes Jesus in an Astrovan rolling down the strip again

He's stoned while Jerry plays

Life ain't ever what it seems

These dreams are more than paper things

And it's alright mama you're afraid

I'll be poor along the way

I don't wanna see those tears again

You know, Jesus drives an Astrovan

Yes, he does (I say woo)"

- Astrovan (Mt. Joy)

• @pani-puri

"Pulling up, getting down

This whole place is crazy town

Music bumping and the lights gone down

Never felt at home in any place I found

Oh, I live in a cold, white wind

And I feel the chill coming over me again"

- Butterfly (Adrianne Lenker)

• @anjo-umbra

"Put your hands on the wheel

Let the golden age begin

Let the window down

Feel the moonlight on your skin

Let the desert wind

Cool your aching head

Let the weight of the world

Drift away instead

These day I barely get by

I don't even try

It's a treacherous road

With a desolated view

There's distant lights

But here they're far and few

And the sun don't shine

Even when its day

You gotta drive all night

Just to feel like you're ok"

- The Golden Age (Beck)

• @roseusnoctua

"Satellite, headlines read

Someone's secrets you've seen

Eyes and ears have been

Satellite dish in my yard

Tell me more, tell me more

Who's the king of your satellite castle?

Winter's cold spring erases

And the calm away by the storm is chasing

Everything good needs replacing

Look up, look down all around, hey satellite

Rest high above the clouds no restrictions

Television we bounce 'round the world

And while I spend these hours

Five senses reeling

I laugh about this weatherman's satellite eyes"

- Satellite (Dave Matthews Band)

• @sidereusimber

"And though I may be getting older

Know that I'm going with you

Know that I'm hanging on

to the things that you said

The things that you said

...

I've felt my soul

Rise up from my body when

I look into your blue eyes

...

If cosmic force

Is real at all

It's come between you and I"

- Some Things Cosmic (Angel Olsen)

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