Monday, June 28, 2010

Of Ancient Memory (the Oblivion Seekers)

I think this is the end now. The people who could escape have done so and the people who were stuck are no more. It's a bit scary how much of Jarboe's words I can relate to. Maybe I'm just looking and want it to but still.

as far as the eye can see heat is rising off the sand
somewhere out on this holy land time once
was held in their hands
but it bleeds now down the mountain red to the river bank
where they burn their dead
and it sinks deep in the blackest sea
to a bed of ancient memory-
the incense is sweet fills the air this night: lulls you to sleep
the past and the future are here in this fever
from the cold star that makes no sound
a cruel poison comes down as we bathe nude
in the wind, metallic blue becomes our skin
strange is the magic
the waters make no sound
strange is the magic
we lay our bodies down
love dark and tragic
we lay upon the ground
love is the magic
now we spiral round
we drink the waters
filled with delight
the past and the future
closed to our sight
no need for the wisdom
words from the sages
for here is oblivion
come down through the ages
you don't come to this place on your own
you're born to this pain it's your home
it's useless they say to run and hide
you know it's useless they pay who stay and fight
we didn't come here of our own volition
it's prophesy, apathetic contrition
and we didn't come here of a free will
to grip a silent unknown fear then lay quite still
we close our eyes, turn our face
close our mind now go away
shut your eyes and turn away
you've closed your mind but it's here to stay
in the flickering blue century
the blue eternity
blue bombs explode on the screen
blue arms outstretched as they plead
see the cold star, it makes no sound, poison comes down
it sinks in the black sea: a bed of ancient memory

Thursday, June 24, 2010

valkyrie in the roller disco

Bangalore born and Bangalore bred
when I dies, I'll be Bangalore dead

...with due apologies to Frank Hennessy

So my favourite blogs are dying. One by one by one like dominoes they fall. It started with boizebu then enemy of the music business, then the worried well went down and now even the relatively innocuous metalhcalbums is dead. I'm not liking this at all.

In other news, there really isn't any. I only came here so I could steal Frank's line and use it for my own selfish needs.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

well done Bannakaffalatta

Life's been a little confusing the last couple of weeks. A million unasked questions and elements that are in constant flux. Weariness I think, more than anything else. Tired and hopelessly lost and a little resentful of the way my life is going. I know not what I want but know this isn't it.

I haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately. the weekend was the weekend and then the last couple of days have seen my sleep plagued and broken by what might have been an imaginary cat and an all too real drunk friend. I have a feeling tonight may be no different. also it's bright and sunny today. after a really long while and it's really fuck all. typical doom metal weather when the sun is hidden away somewhere, a cold breeze and the constant threat of rain is where it's at. makes me happy.

i saw Rajneeti and the less said about it the better. I'm still watching doctor who and it's getting a bit hit and miss. I've started on grand dad's books and am currently reading "the streaked blond slave." turns out he also left me his collection of cuff links which i got today morning and which came completely out of the blue. Must get some shirts to go along.

meetings, meetings, meetings
they drive me up the wall
they'd like to feed me their leavings
it'll be fun to make them crawl


Sunday, June 06, 2010


He grinned a 32 watt grin. His tongue was pressed against his teeth and almost seemed to be oozing out from between the gaps. He was dancing without moving. He was where he'd always wanted to be. Fire all around him and it felt cold. It felt good. He stood and watched. His tongue making further progress. Squeezing and forcing its way into and through the gaps. He didn't know and even if he did it would have made no difference. This was rapture. He stared at the columns of fire and the faces he thought he knew. He stamped his foot to the thumping bass groove and kept on grinning. Even as his tongue made slow but inexorable progress through his teeth he exulted in the fact that he'd always known. This was where he'd end up. Was prepared for it. Was looking forward to it for most of his life. The music fell silent and the dancing stopped. His tongue was sticking out now. His teeth losing the battle but still fighting the war. A trace of blood on his lips, a few teeth sticking out and a few cuts on his tongue. Lost in glorious rapture, he was indifferent to the war in his mouth. He danced now. With renewed energy. Moving every limb like his life depended on it. A madman's dance, a merry go round and windmill somehow combined. He danced and his tongue sneaked out of his mouth. A brilliant red thing of indeterminate length. He danced with his feet and his hands and his hips and his head. The faces came closer and he found they came attached with bodies. He felt he should say hello but simply could not. The faces stared and seemed to be waiting. He didn't know about this bit. The fires had gone out and he was sweating. His tongue must have come into his line of vision at this time. Moving now at a noticeable rate. Cracked teeth, blood stained gums and a few standing teeth were all that remained. This war was lost. He stared at the faces and wondered where he'd seen them before and what they were waiting for. He tried saying hello again and he couldn't. His tongue inched onwards and upwards. The bright shining red seemed to move and ripple; a life of its own. When he saw her he knew it was getting to the end. As he swayed and moved to a beat only she could hear. As she made her slow but inevitable approach. As she stood in front of him, his tongue. As she reached for it and held it in a grip all at once gentle and firm. His tongue seemed to purr and became brighter. The tongue knew as well. She pulled. He danced as his tongue now stretched out infinite. She pulled hard and soft at the same time. The faces were forgotten and every sense he had was focused on the woman. As she pulled him and the tongue with her eyes and her hands.

Finally. He was home.