DNA 1/4

Between obscurity and comprehension, I sway.
Lost my way.
Still I see shards of uncorrupted light shine.
Tattered remnants of hope, of faith.

Was einst war liegt nun in Trümmern
Dein Morgen neigt sich dem Untergang
Ein letzter Blick zurpck auf die von dir erzwungen' Pfade
Bevor die Zeit dein Dasein löscht

Back and forth, I sway.

-periwinkle sprinkle

In Other News

I have been writing.
Excited? I am.
Two collaboration projects on the go:
1) Parkviol (reincarnated from a harrowing few months on the back burner. Reason for its relegation to the nothingness of modern day purgatory: Zilch)
2) As yet titled, structured, or really even thought out, but still so damn awesome.

And of course my personal forays.
A continuously growing stack of everything from the poetic to the nonsensical to the ramblings of a man who should quite possibly be institutionalized. But I digress.
The core of my putting pen to paper lately being a concept I have flirted with for years, while putting absolutely no effort towards whatsoever. But the pieces are falling into place. Baby steps Pat. Baby steps.
I would love to exclude these self pitying rants (well lately obscure, scattered, relatively short ideas laced with self disgust and an ever fading sense of metaphorical drowning) I leave here for you to read, but they are so few and far between these days I feel compelled to acknowledge them.

I have again returned to my whole not sleeping gig. So I am not entirely sure how well my sentences are flowing here. Might pop by later for a little revision. I doubt it though.
Back to reading, of all things, the Qu'ran (Why spell-check isn't recognizing this as a word is beyond me). The last of my first three source materials.

And onwards I write...(Thats almost catchy)

Like a Boy Needs His Mothers Love

And onwards I write.
I hope that I make you proud.

Cottage Industries.

So I have been hanging out with Jesus lately again.
It sounds funnier than it is.
And Cottage Industries has begun.
Poetry and songwriting under many aliases.
I needed this.
Met a few people in the past couple of weeks that don't just piss me off.
I may just be able to move on from you.
I hate knowing all of it is now behind us.
But hopefully I find room to grow.
I have been so encased by everything.
I still have no direction.
At least now I can see over the wall I built around me.
See possibility.
I just wish I were a better person.
I wish I didn't throw everything I care for away,
just to prove to myself I never deserved it in the first place.
And for this I am truly sorry.
But I feel happy I think.
My best friend is 2 and it is awesome.
Possibility.


-possibly statue

Life in a Love

Escape me?
Never—
Beloved!
While I am I, and you are you,
So long as the world contains us both,
Me the loving and you the loth,
While the one eludes, must the other pursue.
My life is a fault at last, I fear—
It seems too much like a fate, indeed!
Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed—
But what if I fail of my purpose here?

It is but to keep the nerves at strain,
To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall,
And baffled, get up to begin again,—
So the chase takes up one's life, that's all.
While, look but once from your farthest bound,
At me so deep in the dust and dark,
No sooner the old hope drops to ground
Than a new one, straight to the selfsame mark,
I shape me—
Ever
Removed!

-Robert Browning.

S:cage

rust. its patina. and decay. surrounding. building. moving beyond. propelling you forward. immersed in its complexity. overwhelmed by its truth. and its beauty. resonating. imagined. or real. in this place. floating. dreaming. sinking. shining with you. like glass. a whisper. a scream. sounds encompassing, then fading away. layers of suggestion, seeping in the mind. peeling it away. leaving it bare. and whole. full of everything, then nothing. a soundtrack. for a dream. or a nightmare. taking you to a place inside. and losing you there. and i am haunted by this always.

Complexity...

...reduced to black and white.

Horna/Helvete

Thrown into this dark room. No Light in sight.
Here, I am the merchant of my fears. I weep.
A degeneration unnoticed. Unseen. Unheard. Unable.
Unable to stand. Walk. Sleep. Eat. This is what I've done.
I am the merchant of my hate. I cry.
This is where I lay. A Palace of despair upon whose throne I rest.
A temple to face my thoughts. This temple is burning.
This temple, where the carrion wraith stands ready.
Awaiting the remains of this shattered existence.
The filth and grime of under-achievement ever thickening. An unwashable disease of the mind.
No miracle left to cleanse. This is my temple.
Built on the uncrackable foundation of misery. Memory.
Pillars and girders wrought in the lick of self-wraths fires.
Ever burning. Forever burning. Forever consuming. Ceaseless.
A monument to scar the barest of landscapes.
This is my temple. This is my hell.
An altar to sacrifice what little remains of my soul.
An altar to worship.
But no more. This is my temple. The temple is burning.


I will burn it to the fucking ground.

Wrath of the Weak

Chapter I: A Leap of Faith Ends When You Crash into the Ground
Chapter II: Using Self-Destrution in the Pursuit of a Better Life
Chapter III: What We Learn From Spending 120 Hours in a Downpour
Chapter IV: When One Side of the Mirror Diverges From the Other
Chapter V: Angels With Forked Tongues and the Gifts They Bear
Chapter VI: Light Streaming in Through the Cracks in the Door
Epilogue - The Journey Towards Non-Existence in Slow Motion and Technicolor

Who Needs Anything More?

Cold Forgotten Earth - Sombres Forêts
Crystal Ammunition - Wolves in the Throne Room
I am the Wooden Doors - Agalloch
Not Unlike the Waves - Agalloch
Percées de Lumière - Alcest
Liquids - Self-inflicted Violence
Of Stone and Stars in the Sky - Falls of Rauros
Le Cercueil - Sui Caedere