1. |
A Void Panoramic
01:13
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2. |
Hate for First Things
04:00
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Sky at five is clean and clear
as the old adept’s asystole.
In this light there is togetherness.
Thought is in flesh and the flesh in thought
My eye is sharp and the bowstring’s taut.
In this light there is togetherness
In the light of no surprise
where muscle and fibre know my mind
this arm, aching and ugly, is mine.
No hate for first things here
No praise, no blame, no toothless two-minds
Dead nerves sometimes twitch
In the limbs and the lips we once did use
To wrap our lovers
to kiss and kill each other.
In the light of no surprise
Heavy with the dead
It is mine
What door, what passage back to more?
Heavy with the dead,
Heavy with the ghosts of then.
Air at six is mist and haze.
I’m anxious now for familiar shapes.
In this light there is forgetfulness.
Broken bones and broken will
My eye is poor and my arm is weak.
In this light there is forgetfulness.
Should it surprise us when
morning is a prelude to reproach.
Should it surprise us when
morning is a prelude to reproach.
Should it surprise us when
This cruel light shows us exactly as we are.
Should it surprise us when
This cruel light recalls the day of our decline.
What door? What passage back to more?
Heavy with the dead
No hate here.
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3. |
Metempsychose, Slow
04:50
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So many times
After the swelter of my plunge
Into the noise of my will
I dream of a body
On a shore that is still
Between the waves escharotic
And the dunes that all glow
Because the sands are all embers
A kindness it would be
To let the burned be
Drowned to the gills.
In the coral and silt.
Let him drink of his fill
A kindness it would be
To let the burned be
Drowned to the gills.
In the coral and silt.
Let him drink of his fill
In the maelstrom that twirls
All the salt and burnt skin.
Part wave,
The shape will subside
In silver outline, subliminal strip
Part wave and part mist
The frame will collapse
The shape, will not, will not remain.
I didn’t think that this is the end for us all
I didn’t think that this is the end of it all.
Too bad we never learnt from our dreams
What we lacked.
How many times
Will I dream of a shore?
Where my body is hollow
Where tides have no pull
And my will has no weight.
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4. |
Contagion, And So On
03:58
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Not one of your sisters had
A room of her own, so I wonder
What thoughts would form as they watched
The god draw close, then slip out from under
Her frail frame and mind
Can’t split fear
From the itch of envy.
Was their plight to endure
Was their plight to desire at the same time?
I trace the lines
And the pattern’s clear:
And contagion teaches all.
I trace the lines
And the pattern’s clear:
And contagion (and so on).
In what mirror in that room,
Could you see yourself and no one else?
Did the light contort in a spoon,
Or did it bend in yourself alone?
Her steel will and mind
Would break fear
From the itch of envy.
Forty-nine of them fell
To autopilot’s intent
What thing
Taught you?
To see
Feeling?
Fighting?
The pattern’s clear:
And contagion teaches all.
I trace the lines
And contagion teaches all.
contagion teaches all
contagion (and so on)
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5. |
A Bloodless Ballet
02:49
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(For the sake of the concrete let’s call it a)
Shaft or a glass or a heart or something
That’s a soul, an idea, or a thought still unseen,
still unseen till it bleeds or it breaks or it splinters in your
hand and you’re picking at the shrapnel that is also your skin.
Not that it hurts
or that it stings
but this is the thing:
the one is now many.
The whole is now rent
the circle is cracked
the flood is let in
the gates will burst
but this is thing the one is now
Maybe the only place for the
Unstripped, inviolate object is
where our sight sets it all on fire.
Does the thing exist whole in the periphery?
No division there between subject and object
I feel like I need
More than this ballet
Bloodless and forever the same.
I feel like I need
More than this ballet
Bloodless and the same.
Eye (before lash lets in light that refracts)
Swims in ooze of the dark where the world’s still unseen
Still unseen till it bursts with a vein of the dust
That everything now becomes – seen
That everything now becomes – gleaned.
But this is the thing
The one is now many
Does the thing exist whole in the periphery?
No division there between subject and object
I feel like I need
More than this ballet
Bloodless and forever the same.
I feel like I need
More than this ballet
Bloodless and the same.
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6. |
Simony
04:40
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You have seen what the others sell.
Held it with quivering gaze.
You then dug up with trembling hand
The last piece of silver you had.
Did you believe that this is what
You needed to plug the hole?
Did you think this would patch this seam
Through which the sand then fell.
So much sullied and solid this thing.
Let me live in the margin again.
You have slipped through these sleeping homes
Where the light deepens the shade,
You then slid through the urban grass
Where the moon washes the broken glass.
This hand hangs heavy
With things not done.
So much sullied and solid this thing.
Let me live in the margin again.
I could shake this numb machine
But I grow indifferent
With every breath I take.
I could extend this phantom limb
But that would involve the
Never-unfurling will.
Maybe I wouldn’t have to change
But I am indifferent
To every breath I take.
I could reach out this phantom limb
But that would involve the
always-unbending will.
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7. |
Ghost-note Arcade
03:11
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To less than the breadth of a broken coin my throat narrows.
I snap back my head and slip silver down the empty slot.
No more than a breath can come from this cage of cartilage now,
Only the grinds and twists of an ancient, ungreased machine.
Here in the still room
Where the ghost notes fall
And your body creaks as you lift a hand.
This is the gift I kept for you,
Take it all.
I’ve kept it safe, I’ve kept it out of sight.
This is the yoke you put on me,
Take it all.
It burns a hole into my hands.
This paw thins
From things undone.
How easy it will be to stay inside
The painted neon walls of this arcade.
We float with spacemen out of this time,
Beyond this place that claims its price.
But there’s a switch and then there’s light.
It’s all much the same
It’s all the same
It’s all much the same
It’s all the same
except for the prospect of change.
The shadows of pockets and coats
Without the promise to do more.
The coin, the palm, the machine and his sleep.
I keep your gift
because you are my master.
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Urban Vitamin Pretoria, South Africa
Urban Vitamin is an alternative metal band from Pretoria, South Africa, formed in 2008 by members, Cobus Nigrini, Rick De Villiers, Neville Botha, and Cicero Carstens. In 2014, Ricky Dunningham took over on drum duties after Rick De Villiers left to complete his PhD in Durham, UK. ... more
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