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Sephiroth Moon. Three unique, fascinating, complex or simple auditory interventions from Bandcamp; chosen to bring a darker joy to your day.
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Showing posts from 2020
"Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known”.
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a blue unimaginable in the dome of the forest
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a river silvered with thin ice and a slash of gold in the late gray sky.
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heavenly birds twisting into sentences
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the vein runs cold and starlight probes them
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Stained Glass, Blue Angel, Fire and Ice
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your blue booklet will bring down the helicopters
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The blade of Desire is the silver in My teeth.
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I am done revising the seasons of storm
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They say she waited with the waning moon, until the dawn.
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carburetor, condenser, radiator, starter motor
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Reverse what went sour and replace it with seashells.
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listens like the fish below the ice listens to the fisherman.
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a blackbird’s coat bending to sunbeams.
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As the ship speeds up at Pluto, the earthlight sensors blow
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And now there are Angels, walking up and down in the stone.
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Stuff of the moon runs on the lapping sand
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Let me go to the window, watch there the day-shapes of dusk
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a captured sunset, sea-flung, bannered with fire and gold.
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And the snakes have taken shapes of sentences.
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Thus doth the fire of the sun temper the spear of Mars
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Yet I stand at the centre of the spider's web, whereof the golden filaments reach to infinity
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they remain themselves, who have eaten of the pomegranate in Hell.
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and in the water; of whirling air and of rushing fire.
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And now the Table is become the universe
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But the knowledge of the Aethyrs is deeper than the knowledge of the Sephiroth.
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for the voice of the ape is the pulse of his heart
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For the chickadees once came to my feeder in bunches.
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I offer you a cup of tea made from the roses that survived the bomb.
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the cats are kept in glass-enclosed cases
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when all blown-down things crackle underfoot
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Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
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two coffees, two lunches, and a dinner.
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Tea and Tahini edition: Austin Bray...Thank you!
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Washed by time’s waters as they rose and fell.
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Now that my ladder’s gone, I must lie down where all the ladders start.
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in the crystals accomplished perfection
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The City that gives and then takes away.
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In a forest of frosts, in a dawn of cornflowers.
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Into the red Eye, the cauldron of morning.
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i want words to feel like arrows like bullets.
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The old house Is full of ghosts, dear ghosts on stair and landing, Ghosts in chamber and hall.
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the world’s no good for girls with sugar bones
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And the world did walk itself to the lapping threshold of the waves.
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Shot fire to the struck heart that was as tinder
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I might be driven to sell your love for peace.
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like tigers stepping on sparrows’ eggs
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A brown robe, with threads of gold woven in patterns
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by what far edge of the frowning forest...
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through what mazy depth of gloom art thou threading...
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By what dim shore of the ink-black river...
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The task be mine all pleasures to forego.
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WE INHALE, WE EXHALE BUT GEOFF CAN NEVER DIE.
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