what an oddly profound mechanism memory is
to be able to hear
the exact sound of someone’s voice
from years ago just by imagining it
to be able to vividly picture
a scene from a bygone era
whilst simultaneously looking
at the reality of the present moment
to summon the irreplicable symphony of flavors
rendezvousing upon the tongue
from a cherished dish
whose creator is no more
to behold the sweet scent
that once had found your senses
rapt in an erstwhile lover’s embrace
to revisit the feeling
of fleeting ideals
whence they fooled you into falling
for what you thought would be forever
foundations are ever shifting
in the light of newfound context
tragedy reshapes the stories
locked within our mind
knowing that the day will come
when all that we might stand to muster
swiftly turns to dust swept away
by a lonesome gust of wind
and this, the only truth
that we might ever trust in
it is for this very reason
we must live
within each moment
to foster our experience
as though it were untold
to leave a bold impression
that we one day might recall again
when all is lost as we retreat
into death shrouds of our own making
Fractured Hearts
fragile hearts
composed of fractured shards
of selenite
soon fall
from the silence
strewn long
throughout the night
some will dissipate
upon the kiss
of eclipsed atmosphere
while others infiltrate
the earth’s defenses
waiting to be found
is this power
within my pen
enough to stay
disappointment?
can these sunken eyes
sustain the curtain’s calling
dirt and all?
through these weary eyes
of stinging
i fail
to see the answer
no longer does water well
in the aqueduct
of quiescence
and gone
is any semblance
of the joy
that once we knew
having joined
the desperate masses
as envoys of muted morass
precious hours spent
relentlessly toiling
for elusive spoils
spanning the breadth
of a breathlessness
unbridled
’til our heads withered
wayward
down the trail
of idle absurdity
as frail
as the feathered waif
unhidden
on a leaf-barren poplar
sonically assailed
by a hail-tinged doppler shriek
with a tail that spanned the ages
Within Your Arms
you justify
the sentence
in this prison
of the flesh
by the merit
of an offhand touch
leaving me
in study
at the basin
of the desert sun
tending
to each bead
of salted dew
just the slightest hint
of your florid rendezvous
more than piques
a passion
poised to sate
the quenchless gods
when the skies
have shuffled off
the blaring beams
of inquest
urgency finds me
at your behest
at last
within your presence
every sense caressed
by vibrant coils
all divergent seas
now coalesce
upon your breast
as we soar
through stolen
secrets
from these realms
of the Akashic
trails of our assimilation
scintillate our wake
all the stars
bespeckling
the stretching blackness
bear no sweeter fruit
than a single second
spent within your arms
precious
as the poignancy
of truth’s
most perfect pattern
O Songbird
o songbird
of restive mind
thy repertoire vast
as the moonlit masquerade
cast upon the empty bed
of night
piercing requiem
tunneling through
the void
of vanquished mirth
the shrill
of sordid regrets
and disquiets
arisen
from the garden
of agateophobia
like a raving mockingbird
ravaged by truth
feathers hewn
with latent farewell
faintly clinging
to a page
from the past
sing to me
all i have lost
let each note
ring out
as once it
ran me through
before
the great fault
slid the sea
‘neath the desert
and prosody
felled
by god’s languorous sigh
where senses
once flourished
with the triumph
of Typhon
pray let thy song
lay this hardship
to rest
Solitude of Oblivion
all life
desires love
along myriad planes
of consciousness
to have been born
is to possess
the capacity to love
the intrinsic furnace
that burns within
every star
mirrors
that which exists
within each heart
allow not
the perception
of separation
to divide us
lest we spiral
into the solitude
of oblivion
What She Said
I wrote this song for someone very close to me when their mother passed at a young age from a terminal condition. I’m not very adept at engineering sound so you’ll have to excuse the crude quality of the recording.
https://soundcloud.com/polar_division/polar-division-what-she-said
“train ticket to another world
but she don’t know where to go
the truth was something
that we did not know
oh tell me now
standing in the field one day
thoughts rolled through my head
and i remember something that she said
she told me that life’s a lie
she showed me the reason why
she showed me the other side of life
and as i heard what she said
as her words filled my head
i began to see where they led
but instead…
i remember looking back
on the things we used to do
back then when i was a kid
and she was still one too
she used to always say to me
that one day she would rise
never once stood back
to even try to realize
as i think and look back now
you know it makes me wonder how
she’d always stand outside in the rain
then i knew exactly why
said she’d never leave my side
then late one night she died
and i cried”
*EDIT – Bonus Angry Samoan’s cover
https://soundcloud.com/polar_division/polar-division-lost-highway-angry-samoans-cover
“no no no, i need a place to stay
no no no, i need another day
my soul is lost, it’s lost its way
it’s been living in this lost
this lost highway
the night gets darker now
i’m cold and all alone
i took a turn in this life somehow
i’ll never find my way back home
i don’t know
i can’t tell you, girl
what i’ve seen there
the demon spawn with bulging eyes
the devil living in disguise
he’s in this world, he’s here today
he’s been living in this lost
this lost highway”
Autobiography – 1989 Edition

Perhaps I should have quit while I was ahead…
Eternal Mirrors
let the earthen bounty
be your pillow
as the balsam breeze
tucks you in its whispered lull
tonight
our frailty
is forgiven
heaven dare not fathom
to assail us
whence we lay
its offerings
are present
for the taking
as prismed apparitions
through shifting crypts of time
searching for the shadow
of forgiveness
where folding stars
outstare the eye of jupiter
death is but a fear unsound
thought traps within
the silent walls that bind us
stepping through
eternal mirrors
on journeys shared as one
‘neath these precious suns
of stoic tempest flare
Retro-Spectrum
time
was the circumstance
that drove paper nails
through weightless
coffins
to think
we once knew
as desperately
we dangled
from tresses
of concession
composed of gold
which stretched
for many miles
beyond
the trenches
of our youth
i look now
upon days gone
eschewing
but nowhere
are you to be found
lost
perhaps
in the vaulted yonder
where obsidian
gaurds
the earthen tomb
Transmuted
there are more thoughts
within this faint entropic masquerade
than will ever see the humility of expression
were that they could be fit for some metaphor
that might convey a sense of infinite eternity
alas, the landscape which bears the collective essence
of my earthly experience cycles in an orbit
as scant as the tip of this pen
I am but a mere fleck of fading ink
revolving around a feckless dash of happenstance
one that once saw fit to encompass
every fiber of my fleeting flesh
fortifying a form so feeble
with belief that life was far more
than just the sum of its paltry components
the feeling which fate is remissful to frivol
that which defines a purposeful flight
through this finite illusion
alluding to skies that touch freedom
where fear goes to rest
to say I had fallen would be folly
for such would imply that I was not
as flat to the ground when first I found footing
flooded with rains wrung from wrenched rumination
relinquishing all of my being
into hinterland arms of her wintry repose



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