Night of Pentacles
Specifically paradox of spectacle
Desire and the will in haunted dead castles of religion, Leslie in ley lines, lesleylines,
Her moving across my vision,
Everything had meaning in my
Unending visions...
...on my mind as the dissipation encases
and transforms within my lounges
the small spaces within my brain
electrons left in crevices
I know some of the science
but by and large I leave that to
the scientist I believe in the future
and bless the engineers but I believe
in nothing and prefer electricity and its
only in matters of imagination I prefer the
existence
of something greater but there is nothing greater
than that experience of love
tearing at your
heart and splitting
your chest apart.
I think in terms of love sickness.
I leave for the shore.
I think my own go back to these bleak waves
the intensity of all the falling
is fading but now its changing and I-
I should title this sad book "book of I"
insecurity indecision, i.-
think it might be getting worse for now I
may never have encountered in the woods
the many forests and many cities
across all abandoned deserts of hearts
anything like you ever, my love dressed
in a long dress and black boots on Monday.
She exists in performance of beauty
even pushing the doorstop with her foot
in the performance of beauty is that all
art...?..I may die without love ever returned
and it may only ever be expressed
in hidden notes scattered in digital
servers
I make something
Of the quiet sea
.... I live in driftwood
as I have always done, leaving these words
as if they meant something to someone who
is the one, but another February ends
and I'm alone.
.... At least I fell in love.
Alas, only I fell.
A decommissioned chapel. A knight of spectacles. Night-Of-Pentacles.
Living without love is like dying, but its worse.
At least with dying you become nothing
instead of a Fool, Upside Down Death, Ace of Cups,
oh Page of Swords what have you done? I live on
as a loveless sadness no god could endure.
And the boat moves
Is it forward
Leslie? No, it's just a wooden post
Leslie? No, it's just a dead rabbit
Leslie? No, no, no. That's a table.
Ah, sleepless Page, a salmon
In his golden cup. Addicted
To longing. A rose in the mirror.
Specifically paradox of spectacle
Desire and the will in haunted dead castles of religion, Leslie in ley lines, lesleylines,
Her moving across my vision,
Everything had meaning in my
Unending visions...
...on my mind as the dissipation encases
and transforms within my lounges
the small spaces within my brain
electrons left in crevices
I know some of the science
but by and large I leave that to
the scientist I believe in the future
and bless the engineers but I believe
in nothing and prefer electricity and its
only in matters of imagination I prefer the
existence
of something greater but there is nothing greater
than that experience of love
tearing at your
heart and splitting
your chest apart.
I think in terms of love sickness.
I leave for the shore.
I think my own go back to these bleak waves
the intensity of all the falling
is fading but now its changing and I-
I should title this sad book "book of I"
insecurity indecision, i.-
think it might be getting worse for now I
may never have encountered in the woods
the many forests and many cities
across all abandoned deserts of hearts
anything like you ever, my love dressed
in a long dress and black boots on Monday.
She exists in performance of beauty
even pushing the doorstop with her foot
in the performance of beauty is that all
art...?..I may die without love ever returned
and it may only ever be expressed
in hidden notes scattered in digital
servers
I make something
Of the quiet sea
.... I live in driftwood
as I have always done, leaving these words
as if they meant something to someone who
is the one, but another February ends
and I'm alone.
.... At least I fell in love.
Alas, only I fell.
A decommissioned chapel. A knight of spectacles. Night-Of-Pentacles.
Living without love is like dying, but its worse.
At least with dying you become nothing
instead of a Fool, Upside Down Death, Ace of Cups,
oh Page of Swords what have you done? I live on
as a loveless sadness no god could endure.
And the boat moves
Is it forward
Leslie? No, it's just a wooden post
Leslie? No, it's just a dead rabbit
Leslie? No, no, no. That's a table.
Ah, sleepless Page, a salmon
In his golden cup. Addicted
To longing. A rose in the mirror.