EMPTY FLOWS TOO DARK
so much unaligned
set into void
grey areas behind
the seams and surface
lost zones denied grid
empty flows too dark
to be charted
in formal lore
too many dreams break
pounding on these shores
we can not keep up
renewing sand
when all is taken
swirling into waste
drifting into depths
only one with death
bits of light
can not break free
of looming darkness,
a glimmer here,
a flash of light off there,
to show some surface
but not define
the form thereof
what vessel dares
plow through the blackness,
what foolish ship
would test consuming night?
we are lost here
on alien shores
unable to venture
across that dire abyss
madness grips us
we can not move
no paths unfold
no vectors bid
our feet to step
away from here
frozen, crushing
the moment takes all breath
- Brendan Tripp
03/01/2003
Copyright © 2003 by Brendan Tripp
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THIS THEN, THE LIE
1
segmented being,
the fractured self;
repeated blows
chip off shards,
strewing fragments
in killing fields,
mines of anguish,
traps of our despair
2
what is stolen
from out of time?
nothing has meaning
within these days
which themselves
have no point
but to lead us lower,
ever closer to doom
3
this then, the lie,
divorced from the real,
polar to truth,
only filling needs
to swaddle loss
and mask the failures
which scream yet ghostly
far off in the wings
4
who might know
what transpires?
the thoughts dissolve,
the words stay dark,
never seeing open light;
there are no hours
allowing being,
only time to die
5
everything descends now,
a trek into damnation,
a journey into depths
unsuspected by the mass;
we are haunted by the spirit
of every dream destroyed,
harried by the anguish
of all we've not achieved
- Brendan Tripp
03/03/2003
Copyright © 2003 by Brendan Tripp
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DARKER MODES TO TAINT
between the distance
in not what is
set apart, we find
niches not defiled
zones in shadow
what are not touched
by poisoned day
and can be harbors
there are cycles
within these turns
we see the darkness
meld with the shade
and make new blacks
darker modes to taint
that which waits inside
praying for release
these forms oppress
their lines dismay
for all lead downward
into that abyss
of endless failure
and greater loss
and futures filled with torment
for these, the special damned
every step we take
leads on to grey,
to unknown lands
and frames of fear
which have no answer;
we have no allies here,
all eyes spout blades
and intent to kill
no purpose serves
no meaning maintains
there is no linkage
from effect to cause
everything is frozen
into one descending state
nothing remains
for glimmers of hope
- Brendan Tripp
03/11/2003
Copyright © 2003 by Brendan Tripp
</center>
OBLITERATION, DARKER THAN ALL NIGHT
1
a dial rotating
words fly through
piercing aethers
on vectors strewn
from other planes
none connecting
none framing theme
none reaching whole
2
in transformation
nothing's reached
nothing has the form
which would allow
a gelling home;
cast adrift now
in this storm
with no hope of shore
3
event horizons stand
across our path
there is no going
no way to move
without a loss
of this dimension
an alienation
from common zones
4
we are displaced
set into corners
of shifting planes
we can not map
an exit from here
as every step
is met with shifts
which leave us trapped
5
closer still
these walls impinge,
air too heavy
to even breathe;
we are implosion,
the crushing point
of obliteration,
darker than all night
- Brendan Tripp
03/12/2003
Copyright © 2003 by Brendan Tripp
</center>
ONE FLESH WITH DOOM
from scattered zones
the center folds
we have no grasp
within this set
all is emptied
tumbled out
vacant in vision
hollow in frame
too much loss
surrendering now
we can not focus
on any tide
our anguish blurs
past any lines
all swirling poison
and deep decline
we have no guide
no contact point
we are dragged beneath
the storming waves
held to darkness
set to cold
faded out
past all recall
wasted hours fill
all these pointless days
no substance
nor any hope
we link the moments
with dire intent
which has no meaning
only a flow
and all beliefs
in here decay
nothing in this world
deserving trust
nothing in this life
untouched by death
all outside of dreams
one flesh with doom
- Brendan Tripp
03/22/2003
Copyright © 2003 by Brendan Tripp
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There ya go ... now, wasn't that just a load of fun?