Game

gentle slide downwards, gravity takes over,
the field of vision narrows as the momentum increases,
there is no fear of the impending,
there is a quiet desperation none the less,
the effort has to be made...
have to stop,
what's the point of not stopping?

ok. just stop.
done. that was simple.

bored; of nothing in particular.
there isn't anything worth reading,
nothing worth saying;
Is it possible to be content, just like that?
there is a vague memory of such a thing... sure...

let the beats bounce off,
let the beats pass through,
let them get absorbed....

be content.
done.
now, go play.

[+/-] Maksim Mrvica - kolibre

expedient cryptography #.25

If I may say so,
simple substitutions and imaginary numbers,
smudging brush strokes, surreal coloring,
phonemes, borrowed words, appellations,
but great old wine in different bottles;
tastes no better than it started;
age has done it no good,
not possible.

begin with a magnum opus,
where do you go after that?
recall the good and bask in the memory,
but it is done. what next? then again, why next?
there has never been a next, has there?

They say what goes around comes around.
Sure. Always respected it. Let everything go.
Just like that. Time after time. No fighting,
absolutely works. It comes around,
just so that you can send it around, again.

Let me liberate myself,
acknowledge the imperfection,
on yet another scale,
one just as less a whole as another.

Followed the book: I threw it out.
I wrote a book, I threw it out.

noise

quasi peace, whithering truce;
flawless regenerative formula,
a perpetual machine, inert;
solve, unwrite the question;

first hour capillary tunes,
frictionless loops, sans punctuation,
aggregated monotone; fractal expanse;
scripted end, unpretentious execution;

blurred moon, diplopic eyes,
muffled sounds, dreamy tones,
enter the dark room,
wait...


[+/-] metal birds

Comet Binary

Arc maker for the mystery night,
dusty white player in the void,
evaporating in the eccentricity,
false freedom in the lonely ellipse;

a crude and scarred simple composition,
fragile to the touch of life light,
fleeting bright passes of death life,
exaggerated spells of life death;

an abomination of creation,
by only the innate nonacceptance;
chanced, transverse tiny sparkle from afar,
beheld a shrapnel, too close for comfort;

identical, small, probable, prime,
perfect undisturbing multiplying divisor--
all and then some more, is one;
but a parallel, it is not.