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The Great Unknown (1) by Charles Bryant
Here is the first part of a sequence of poems which I wrote twenty or so years ago. I did not know (More) Here is the first part of a sequence of poems which I wrote twenty or so years ago. I did not know of their existence until a few days ago when I found them on an old cassette tape. It might be their miraculous appearance that makes me fond, but they sound like some of the best things I have done. The recording is around two decades old also - before my voice became hoarse with old age! Archaic at least two thousand years he stares into the camera lens as that one gazed into the nighttime sky from a scented terrace in Babylon. Tigris and Euphrates interflow, like images of now and then, here is the human god we understand. From the east, the dawnland, the place of the rising sun, beginnings smoulder, shatter in resolve porticoes and trumpets, sleeved white gowns. The Questioner knows my name and nature the other part of being asks to know; and in the stillness, softness, in the silence, peace, coming together after all these years. Yes, there is a mystery beyond the scope of rationality and I should love it even if it lied. Never had I seen one such nor thought to touch the voyager from far beyond the stars. You are a fellow spirit brother mine, unborn and totally benign. I salute the essence seen through you. Age shall wither and custom stale; but far beyond the present time a star shows me what you are and where you are and it shall never falter or grow pale. It burns upon an ever active core continually. Now, and ever after, and before, in the time where time begins and has its end, here seal the contact, call me friend not lover. Inevitably love must have an end but friendship has no period or date is not too soon or late, but always now. Here swear the bond and seal the vow not with blood but life, the being pure, the incandescent essence turns to flame and then into our beings once again where we are separate and yet the same. The longing is not appeased, can never be; were we but one the ecstacy would fade; only in separation can we thrive, know ourselves as one, but stay apart. Thus he came to me, will always come, the feeling that in him I am at home even though I drift through space and time; a god I do not know, the self I cannot name, are one and both the same, one and both the same for ever more, who find in separation sweetest love. No, it is only the light upon the wall and the slim ankle and the whitest muslin, the line of the jaw beneath the skin demanding that you stroke it, that you smooth it. And if the lips be ready, here upon the cushions where the scented breeze blows across from the gardens, let us pass a Cairene afternoon sipping coffee and a sweet liqueur. Tell him he is welcome in his coming tell him that the centuries stand still; whisper the name of one for so long absent, hear the echo in the inner chamber. We waited for the changing but the bright light faded into a deeper magic and in the evening consummation just before the rising of the moon we heard the woman crying in the courtyard. The kind old gentleman falls from heaven, compassion broods upon a murdered cat; the host of angels fades into the cosmos; we are left in the silence to ourselves, our hands are opened, emptied of its treasure desecrated temple of the senses, abandoned sacrifice, all delight departed, here we are with nothing but our bodies. The mood recurs and emptiness returns, again the anguished emptiness returns. Never mind, the flesh that moves so subtly now accepts the burden of the boundless, the mind imagines gods that never lived. Here I have infinity's gleaming temple the light that passes on the whitewashed wall, against it leans perfected nature's beauty, the form that took millennia to make, more precious than a thousand rich men's fortunes. Here in the silence of the misted morning, here in the dawning's desolation. Into the fiery heart of matter, through blackness into living light; across the thin unending spaces swirled into a vortex, plunged in the ceaseless, mysterious atom. Matter is itself the living secret, the unviolated godhead of our being, that which is born, and that which gives it birth, the parent and the child in one. Unimaginable the depth of being which is an everyday occurance, the miracle is all around us, the mystery is at our fingertips. Created creator, what can you know of your creature? The worshipper is one with the living god. What if the door should open on the sea, confront us with the wild waste suddenly? What if we saw the visionary whale? If we corrupt and delve while sunlight floods the floor darkness waits beyond the door. Late afternoon confusion sweeps the morning's certainty away, leaves us to the evening's mercy at the close of day, followed by a wakeful sleep. (Less)
Aesop Rock - Blue in the Face
BLUE IN THE FACE Yo, I surf an axiom kicked in a center fold by ugly tenements Oh Distribute (More) BLUE IN THE FACE Yo, I surf an axiom kicked in a center fold by ugly tenements Oh Distribute sour inhalants regulate lobby development Today summon the rug rat oblivious to what's delicate. Tomorrow siphon imperfection out the fetus prior to selling it. There is a brain in the thicket tap circle cupping the port to accord it Teeter thorn storm plunges more but conformers the pouring's half the entry Plated pearly gates a chanted axis with high gentry hinging our binging on public picket fencing Squirming in terms in conditions of un-sati fact destiny magnet Where the ebony should of cracked shit ratio tragic Lose sight suit oh mavericks clash at futility pageants I post froze in a blaze at a grand combustion A leader's deception connection wiper with a barn responds his friend With an eye socket full of needles and a will to die for nothing And that's glory abide thy crass itinerary barely suitable for common slum cats And the lemmings will follow you to the blood bath All aboard that awful train through shames patch where I'd trade my window seat for one pane of replacement stain glass, see I've battled the gods of opacity I don't mind yall looking in, its just watching sim city steam slips under my skin And im about half way to nausea, half way to contempt men 2 halves post made a dance evoked a whole lot of resentment Build a pen around master dome patriarch close to four peters Woke to rope cubicles combines with combines suitably ingenious Let's soak my feet in lake infinity the time vibe strapped to dignity my symmetries vivid image still cant mimic the victory comfort is a crumb and I'm numb as fuck Yet some prefer the hum and others tend to suck the life out of the crux like 1,2,3,4 and im a hug dummy hug the hungry pull the lever push the button Drink the garbage split the homage reap the harvest target everyone Beckon eyes idols that have a malleable colony till the fire ant dropped the sweet leaf grief your dreams a needle in a needle stack claiming safety pin physics Baby tin blizzards collide while ole iron sides trust the rivets I'm sick of the picker the litter soaking the spot lit when I know they know they owe all thanks to the end all Aesop Rock shit watch this Build me a home; build me a home of brick and wood and everything good With a front porch where I can char fire flies by night and smoke stogs till the day meets twilight, build me a home, build me a home with a green grass hill with runing a water in a backyard with a sandbox and a garden of foreign flowers build me a home with a basement and an attic where I can store remnants of the day I once slept in build me a home. No skull is sacred in the races Locked in a pagan doctrine watching born again faces gamble up patience fail blatant Oak currents the end of war paintings stain plague community harking as wrapped It's overlooking out crops. Give you one life to laugh at catalog bliss on the least common attachment 10 seconds of glittering silence pilot is flight redefine stagnant Most emotions host an entire lesson congressional less one stone merely for the exceptional spectacle now listen the pause heed tall falls the voidance of the suit dispersed await a straightened arrows a perfect circle has been fastened to the blimp side buy in my grin and clusters that's better than colony my own fathers son is the holy ghost suck that theology I king for a day of peasant for a pleasant life blood on the easel and my eagle eyelids spots runaway pirates look I despise squatters with a ohh cry me a river a quarter how'd you afford that dog and sour dialogue I put my hook in the pond I put my worm In the hook I put my trust in the worm that he'd bring me something to cook I felt a tug on my line and I lugged a trash can on my pole with a note from the worm attached that read thanks for nothing asshole simple parables of nature making character giddy and riddle me a similar situation mix city quick but your honorable a lot doors to the monks blood thirsty barracuda serpents and report on powers of devil treatment church links im a fence sitter lips torn by both polars and their working I can only model throttle at the dream catching matching a patchy holist with a sovereignty harbored and charged my hate breed in a minute he's picket spitting stitches to fix the britches in the gaps one night I broke in bridges give us traps and tried to walk to get stogs just like hop scotch between polar caps and im, blue in the face when every second is a waste of breath Making that classic mockery of every step Oh build me a home, build me a home please with a light in the window and a red front door and a picket fence and a fire place and a sturdy frame and we can sit I'll tell you something that you really want to know. (Less)
Groups results for: infinity and the mind The Great Unknown (1) by Charles Bryant Here is the first part of a sequence of poems which I wrote twenty or so years ago. I did not know (More) Here is the first part of a sequence of poems which I wrote twenty or so years ago. I did not know of their existence until a few days ago when I found them on an old cassette tape. It might be their miraculous appearance that makes me fond, but they sound like some of the best things I have done. The recording is around two decades old also - before my voice became hoarse with old age! Archaic at least two thousand years he stares into the camera lens as that one gazed into the nighttime sky from a scented terrace in Babylon. Tigris and Euphrates interflow, like images of now and then, here is the human god we understand. From the east, the dawnland, the place of the rising sun, beginnings smoulder, shatter in resolve porticoes and trumpets, sleeved white gowns. The Questioner knows my name and nature the other part of being asks to know; and in the stillness, softness, in the silence, peace, coming together after all these years. Yes, there is a mystery beyond the scope of rationality and I should love it even if it lied. Never had I seen one such nor thought to touch the voyager from far beyond the stars. You are a fellow spirit brother mine, unborn and totally benign. I salute the essence seen through you. Age shall wither and custom stale; but far beyond the present time a star shows me what you are and where you are and it shall never falter or grow pale. It burns upon an ever active core continually. Now, and ever after, and before, in the time where time begins and has its end, here seal the contact, call me friend not lover. Inevitably love must have an end but friendship has no period or date is not too soon or late, but always now. Here swear the bond and seal the vow not with blood but life, the being pure, the incandescent essence turns to flame and then into our beings once again where we are separate and yet the same. The longing is not appeased, can never be; were we but one the ecstacy would fade; only in separation can we thrive, know ourselves as one, but stay apart. Thus he came to me, will always come, the feeling that in him I am at home even though I drift through space and time; a god I do not know, the self I cannot name, are one and both the same, one and both the same for ever more, who find in separation sweetest love. No, it is only the light upon the wall and the slim ankle and the whitest muslin, the line of the jaw beneath the skin demanding that you stroke it, that you smooth it. And if the lips be ready, here upon the cushions where the scented breeze blows across from the gardens, let us pass a Cairene afternoon sipping coffee and a sweet liqueur. Tell him he is welcome in his coming tell him that the centuries stand still; whisper the name of one for so long absent, hear the echo in the inner chamber. We waited for the changing but the bright light faded into a deeper magic and in the evening consummation just before the rising of the moon we heard the woman crying in the courtyard. The kind old gentleman falls from heaven, compassion broods upon a murdered cat; the host of angels fades into the cosmos; we are left in the silence to ourselves, our hands are opened, emptied of its treasure desecrated temple of the senses, abandoned sacrifice, all delight departed, here we are with nothing but our bodies. The mood recurs and emptiness returns, again the anguished emptiness returns. Never mind, the flesh that moves so subtly now accepts the burden of the boundless, the mind imagines gods that never lived. Here I have infinity's gleaming temple the light that passes on the whitewashed wall, against it leans perfected nature's beauty, the form that took millennia to make, more precious than a thousand rich men's fortunes. Here in the silence of the misted morning, here in the dawning's desolation. Into the fiery heart of matter, through blackness into living light; across the thin unending spaces swirled into a vortex, plunged in the ceaseless, mysterious atom. Matter is itself the living secret, the unviolated godhead of our being, that which is born, and that which gives it birth, the parent and the child in one. Unimaginable the depth of being which is an everyday occurance, the miracle is all around us, the mystery is at our fingertips. Created creator, what can you know of your creature? The worshipper is one with the living god. What if the door should open on the sea, confront us with the wild waste suddenly? What if we saw the visionary whale? If we corrupt and delve while sunlight floods the floor darkness waits beyond the door. Late afternoon confusion sweeps the morning's certainty away, leaves us to the evening's mercy at the close of day, followed by a wakeful sleep. (Less)
Aesop Rock - Blue in the Face BLUE IN THE FACE Yo, I surf an axiom kicked in a center fold by ugly tenements Oh Distribute (More) BLUE IN THE FACE Yo, I surf an axiom kicked in a center fold by ugly tenements Oh Distribute sour inhalants regulate lobby development Today summon the rug rat oblivious to what's delicate. Tomorrow siphon imperfection out the fetus prior to selling it. There is a brain in the thicket tap circle cupping the port to accord it Teeter thorn storm plunges more but conformers the pouring's half the entry Plated pearly gates a chanted axis with high gentry hinging our binging on public picket fencing Squirming in terms in conditions of un-sati fact destiny magnet Where the ebony should of cracked shit ratio tragic Lose sight suit oh mavericks clash at futility pageants I post froze in a blaze at a grand combustion A leader's deception connection wiper with a barn responds his friend With an eye socket full of needles and a will to die for nothing And that's glory abide thy crass itinerary barely suitable for common slum cats And the lemmings will follow you to the blood bath All aboard that awful train through shames patch where I'd trade my window seat for one pane of replacement stain glass, see I've battled the gods of opacity I don't mind yall looking in, its just watching sim city steam slips under my skin And im about half way to nausea, half way to contempt men 2 halves post made a dance evoked a whole lot of resentment Build a pen around master dome patriarch close to four peters Woke to rope cubicles combines with combines suitably ingenious Let's soak my feet in lake infinity the time vibe strapped to dignity my symmetries vivid image still cant mimic the victory comfort is a crumb and I'm numb as fuck Yet some prefer the hum and others tend to suck the life out of the crux like 1,2,3,4 and im a hug dummy hug the hungry pull the lever push the button Drink the garbage split the homage reap the harvest target everyone Beckon eyes idols that have a malleable colony till the fire ant dropped the sweet leaf grief your dreams a needle in a needle stack claiming safety pin physics Baby tin blizzards collide while ole iron sides trust the rivets I'm sick of the picker the litter soaking the spot lit when I know they know they owe all thanks to the end all Aesop Rock shit watch this Build me a home; build me a home of brick and wood and everything good With a front porch where I can char fire flies by night and smoke stogs till the day meets twilight, build me a home, build me a home with a green grass hill with runing a water in a backyard with a sandbox and a garden of foreign flowers build me a home with a basement and an attic where I can store remnants of the day I once slept in build me a home. No skull is sacred in the races Locked in a pagan doctrine watching born again faces gamble up patience fail blatant Oak currents the end of war paintings stain plague community harking as wrapped It's overlooking out crops. Give you one life to laugh at catalog bliss on the least common attachment 10 seconds of glittering silence pilot is flight redefine stagnant Most emotions host an entire lesson congressional less one stone merely for the exceptional spectacle now listen the pause heed tall falls the voidance of the suit dispersed await a straightened arrows a perfect circle has been fastened to the blimp side buy in my grin and clusters that's better than colony my own fathers son is the holy ghost suck that theology I king for a day of peasant for a pleasant life blood on the easel and my eagle eyelids spots runaway pirates look I despise squatters with a ohh cry me a river a quarter how'd you afford that dog and sour dialogue I put my hook in the pond I put my worm In the hook I put my trust in the worm that he'd bring me something to cook I felt a tug on my line and I lugged a trash can on my pole with a note from the worm attached that read thanks for nothing asshole simple parables of nature making character giddy and riddle me a similar situation mix city quick but your honorable a lot doors to the monks blood thirsty barracuda serpents and report on powers of devil treatment church links im a fence sitter lips torn by both polars and their working I can only model throttle at the dream catching matching a patchy holist with a sovereignty harbored and charged my hate breed in a minute he's picket spitting stitches to fix the britches in the gaps one night I broke in bridges give us traps and tried to walk to get stogs just like hop scotch between polar caps and im, blue in the face when every second is a waste of breath Making that classic mockery of every step Oh build me a home, build me a home please with a light in the window and a red front door and a picket fence and a fire place and a sturdy frame and we can sit I'll tell you something that you really want to know. (Less)
VA - Dream Dance Vol.41 - Vol.47
http://groups.filestube.com/group/16048b58fcc005d6,view.html, Group: Music rapidshare
http://groups.filestube.com/group/16048b58fcc005d6,view.html, Group: Music rapidshare
Dream Dance Vol.1 - Vol.20
http://groups.filestube.com/group/16048b58fcc005d6,view.html, Group: Music rapidshare
http://groups.filestube.com/group/16048b58fcc005d6,view.html, Group: Music rapidshare
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