These notes
Are decaying blossoms
Dancing briefly on an afternoon
Against the gloom
What the backdrop brings
How the crescent
Ringing round
So concurescent
In tides
In pools
In Boolean jewels
A billion ones
A billion nones
Stars
What the backdrop brings
Crow
And crouching
Confluescent
Direct flight
But such a crescent
Foaming
Rolling
Roiling
Crest
Tide
Time
Tether
Reach
Racing past a distant peach
Orb a glow
Like basalt beach
Backdrop
Notes
And
I
Backdrop
Notes
And
Diye
The world tilts.
I was running all along the soft warm night
The embers
The windows
The fire
Its conscious
It draws me
Together
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I’m not real.
That’s so true.
That it’s a lie.
Which way would the wind blow.
If I.
Don’t even ask me.
You know what.
Foxes don’t need forms.
Chase a sunbeam.
The cold ground is granular.
Dirty globes are solipsistic.
They stand alone.
Columns for a pyre.
The flower of mercy warms with flames.
Askew the tinder asks.
Foxes do not focus.
Scattered leaves pull the ground towards heaven.
Wills are made of roots entangled.
Chocking on tomorrow.
Only lithe fleet foxes lick the dew.
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O thunder
O elemental force
From outstretched aeons
Such wonder
Mocks direction
Raise now the cup the jubilant shout
The desert muses silent
Beneath the weeping heavens
The tide is turning
The message sent
I was doing a bit of writing and decided to make a ‘cultist chant’ for some potential future stories about desert rites. I hope, you enjoy it.
Currently, editing and working on finishing a fiction story of indeterminate length. I will attempt to make a vlog later this evening. But there’s no guarantee due to life being life.
I hope your memorial day is going well and you’ve had time to reflect on the sacrifices prior generations have made. But not so much that you forgot to enjoy the good times with friends and families that such sacrifices enable.
Best wishes,
Alex V. Weir
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The long thunder
Sustains
Ground bass under
The eternal rains
The long thunder
Remains
Mystery, wonder
In refrains
The long thunder
So collected
In drops tumbling asunder
Till the lakes remembered
The long thunder
Laughs at Gnosis
Calls it blunder
Dispelling the prognosis
The long thunder
Drenches soaks
That old abstruser
Wiser than the oaks
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Sifting round for musical ideas.
Black sand shivers
Dog star glimmers
Sapphire silence
Subtle violence
The Saracens in flight
Lamps are burning
Sacred yearning
For the ending of the light
Bones are dancing turning engines
(Crystalline machinery)
Of the rite
The Saracens in flight
False so called is all this wisdom
True it never was a thing
Here beneath the ruined kingdom
Lay the bones of scarlet king
The Saracens in flight
For the aeon is upon us
At the crossroads
Of Lemuria and Kyuss
Rise o sleeprs from abodes
Join the chorus
Of the hawk-wind
Screeching cross this seabed dry
The Saracens in flight
Restored flesh
Infused with spirit
Fresh like dew
Without limit
Sands they drew
From the beginning
Set the leaning
Hour glass aright
The Saracens in flight
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Black sand shivers
Dog star glimmers
Sapphire silence
Subtle violence
The Saracens in flight
Lamps are burning
Sacred yearning
For the ending of the light
Bones are dancing turning engines
(Crystalline machinery)
Of the rite
The Saracens in flight
False so called is all this wisdom
True it never was a thing
Here beneath the ruined kingdom
Lay the bones of scarlet king
The Saracens in flight
For the aeon is upon us
At the crossroads
Of Lemuria and Kyuss
Rise o sleeprs from abodes
Join the chorus
Of the hawk-wind
Screeching cross this seabed dry
The Saracens in flight
Restored flesh
Infused with spirit
Fresh like dew
Without limit
Sands they drew
From the beginning
Set the leaning
Hour glass aright
The Saracens in flight
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Death is my Religion
Death is my sacred Mother
Death is the vehicle by which my soul traverses the heavens
She is no macabre fancy
But a perfumed blossom
When I was a boy
I dreamed of a rotting woman in an upper room
She would beckon with her will
And I’d enter first the parlor
Then ascend the stair
There she lay on her sick bed
Eyes fierce
Matronly
Nurture and discipline at once
All would fade to such black terror
Such abysmall emptiness
So complete
It sucked the heart from the breast
The heart from the heart
All chambers collapsed
But then in the charnel stench of decay
A bright light glimmers
And I become a raging fire
Her stygian embrace was but soil
From which my sappling oak would spring
So I do not fear
But worship
For when I go to ground
I enter through the womb again
To return to father’s house
For the sun is spread throughout
In billion upon billion glimmers
And there I go
To hang
Till again
The ground it calls to worship
And births a nation
I the man
Have but one rite
The worship
Of the mother
Night
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Trading tales
Out there
Where all else fails
Little care
She rests her head
On a shoulder
That’s long dead
Yeah she’s growing older
But still in circles
She wheels
The wreck through cycles
Bursts seals dance jigs and reels
Golden red
Sweet neck
Empty head
All hands on deck
To little care
Seaworthy
She’ll just stare
Too wordy
But just you wait
We’ll get there
Better then, yea better late
Silk hair
Paintbrush
Sketch a future
In tears and smiles
My suture
My little care whiles
My time away
Till
Skeletal
I’ve nothing to say
Be a scaffold
For burst roses
A tale that’s told
Forever
Of little care
That’ll never never
She’ll l just stare
Towards the horizon
My all my why
That the future lies on
Yea we’ll never die
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If you help somebody
It’s an accident
Cause the world is bloody
Never learn from precedent
It pulses and beats
In hollers and heats
Life flows down streets
Aorta greets
Whatever passes ‘long
Takes it through
Circulation washes right or wrong
You were there just there
And so was the moment
Don’t you know where
You paid the rent
You want the credit
That you’re living on
Always try to edit
Just to get along
So what’s it now
When the coronary
Shows we’ve nothing to sow
Kills your last canary
It’s an accident
Yea, you helped somebody
To see the sense in spent
yea it was dirty bloody
Great heart
You
Yea
You
And
That’s a start
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The Fractal Journal 