All Is Continuity

Chapter 11

Thomas — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 02:57:50 +0000

A good year for new and new-to-me music.

My favorite was Lights’ sophomore album Siberia. Other stuff I found:

Albums

Hey Monday Hold On Tight & Beneath It All
Jant Self-Titled
Rootdown Tidal Wave
Steve Moakler All The Faint Lights

Individual Songs

Avril Lavigne Black Star, 4 Real, Everybody Hurts, I Love You, Not Enough, Remember When, Stop Standing There
Chunk! No, Captain Chunk! Captain Blood
Darren Flowers Get Closer To Me, June, Length Of Our Fall, Only You
Dave Melillo Blood [Remix]
Graham Colton 1981 [Blackwatch Sessions], Everything You Are [Blackwatch Sessions], Hold Onto My Heart, Pacific Coast Eyes [Blackwatch Sessions], Wide Open Inside
The Hawk In Paris Between The World And You, Curse The Love Songs, Put Your Arms Around Me
Molly Parden C’est La Vie, Cream Soda Kiss, Love Bird
Neoclubber Dreamland, See No Stars [Extended Radio Edit], Turn On The Night [Radio Edit], Wonder Why
Prom Night In Black And White New Homes
Rihanna Fading, What’s My Name
Take Cover Don’t Say You Love Me
The Undeserving Fall
The Youngbloods End Of The World, You’re Not Alone

I’m a bit disappointed that I couldn’t make the PostAWeek2011 challenge as I fell short by about a dozen posts this year. That being said it was my least productive year as far as writing is concerned.

For 2012, I am going to begin posting older stuff I have stashed away which will also give me the chance to rework some of them. I’ve also got a few more ideas for compilations. I already have one started but it’s been months since I’ve even looked at it. Perhaps I’ll work on getting things finished sooner…but don’t hold your breath.

See ya next year.

Become

Thomas — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 04:13:20 +0000

Become the waning of a moment for me and
I will become the solace of a need for you.
All these discordant themes that we think
Should bring some definition of a meaning
To what we seek is nothing but the actuality of disparity.

I am one step beyond from the reaches of touch
Where in the midst of our yesteryears we were blissfully
Ignorant of the separate ways we have grown to become.
I had dreams in the palms of your hands and you had
Unspoken wishes on the edge of my mouth.

Please, let this be our final goodbye.
My exhausted eyes pray for the change of forgotten things.
Please, become my amnesia.

Rust

Thomas — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 06:41:45 +0000

Piece back together the rusted remnants of what I wanted.
They fit together with so much between
That my breath displaces all that had been.

The rusted, how they fall away, gently apart, with a matted non-glow
Such that I am questioned with something of an intention was there ever
Something fair that I beheld within my eyes? and I will deny, I will deny
Like a rusting away, apart into a thousand grains of sand.

Who I am as I voice silence is my own wonder, and silent I will always be.
Here then, what I have discovered, is how you are my anger.

Let Me Show You Our Ghosts

Thomas — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 06:13:50 +0000

Show me the words at the tips of your fingers, that
What they say finally vocalizes the breadth of your silence.

Show me the meaning of all the useless things we said
When we were still young and time was yet to be thought.

Let me show you our ghosts and how peaceful they rest.

Find Me In A Calm

Thomas — Sat, 10 Dec 2011 21:35:54 +0000

Find me in a calm.
Tranquility uncovered
By nothing in particular.
I hold on to the oblique of this
Old year whose wisdom hides itself
Into millennia yet to be.
Calm melts down like a candle -
Soon, I will have been.

Tidings

Thomas — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 04:52:16 +0000

Tidings stored inside marbled jars, stacked one upon
Another in mild fashion and yet grandly towering.
They stand distant to the outermost while some
Few I wish should tumble,

save not by my own hands -
I wish not to seem through design of my
Own deceptive means a believer in decadent self-pity.

Yet here I am a slight whisper away from you,
Separated by the eternity of these futile marbled glass jars.

Beside A Sea

Thomas — Sat, 03 Dec 2011 20:55:10 +0000

I be a stone beside a sea of mutability.
Where details age under the distance of
Experience is eternity’s peculiarity.
Ebenezer, I wish for your Ghost of Things Past

If here I remain I think long my life may be
As premonitions past have certainly rung true.
So then what must I fear other than that
Day where I what I foresee is no longer clear?

[Untitled]

Thomas — Sat, 03 Dec 2011 07:29:08 +0000

Truth-teller fashion what you say.

Truth-teller I know who you might be.
I have been much the same in a life so distant.
This glass box we construct, cracked and broken from dishonesties we tell our selves:
Look at all around, everything around, see it naked, not as fairytales carried upon a fancy.

Truth-teller fancy yourself, fashion yourself as something else and be done.
Both honest and dishonest break under their own weight, public interest turns
Towards some golden speck seen as new or reminiscently awing.
It is the realization that the carnival closed for the summer a fortnight ago
And the warm ocean surf of tiny New England hamlets rests in the Caribbean winter.

Whatever you decide, Truth-teller, I wish not to hear.

[Untitled]

Thomas — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 04:00:07 +0000

If all of someone’s cares could be stacked
One upon another where would they reach?
Towards what should they point?
Are they the considerations of the heart, the mind or both?
Does the mind entreat the former
Or do each war within against the other?

Who should know the inner dealings of
Those who be of some relation?
Does love extend its hand to the very reaches of
Distance or is it kept inside of informalities and inconsiderations?
What is love that is never known, mystery or theory?
If the heart is led by its emotions and wanders
According to what it wishes to lean ever towards
Then how might any thing be within any such tenable reach;
Or are mirages made of some other definition?

Nay, one ought to make their own self
A steward of some few discretions.
Fashioned in the knowledge that they shall be
Tossed aside, unwanted by the mind, unloved by the heart.
Be they trampled upon consider it for the better.
For the mind knows not and the heart neither feels.

Of This The Lost Do Wonder

Thomas — Tue, 08 Nov 2011 05:44:48 +0000

There may be ten thousand endings
In a day, consider them all as gifts.
Yet when ten thousand flashes
Mark an end nothing unique exists.

The sums ten thousand generations acquire
Make each individual as poor as the next.
Wealth be discretionary over
Decades but decadence decays, loss is a
Wonder soon forgotten.

Aesop’s greatest moral has yet to be told -
Uniqueness is a tale of an existential mind:
Design and form, the dualities of complexity.
Be they the scientifically observed modus operandi
Then tell me -

Just who are we?
And who am I?