The Secret Plain

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Folded complex
sweet
a bitter rot
underground

nothing smooth detected
no sugar coat
only you
and all your human core
at the fore

as days turn to clockless horizons
where unknown freedom reigns supreme
no nostalgia needed
in this eternal loving vacuum

 

by Nicholas Peart

Written: 29th October 2018

(c)All Rights Reserved

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The Effortless Beat

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A faded glow pricks the plankton
most agitated from decades dishevelled
at the micro level too close to the picture
then yes it is a rut not softening the blow
where I am never protected from what I want
and where silent subtle beauty is forever elusive
and joy only permeates once the controls are discarded
then the muted band of life breaks free

Moments are the sacred secret chords
like temporary cloud formations
they ring in a key
before the new pitch saves the day
and old spheres make way for other tones
in all their elegance, discord and limitations
a splattered banquet with no way of knowing
questions and answers are mere confusion

The astral warp is also a puppet
we will never see who pulls the strings
if you search you will not be in rhythm
to the harmony beyond your self imposed prison
the leaves on the trees don’t inquire
they only be; not chasing the next best thing
and when they see those restless rainbow seekers
they laugh so hard the ground beneath them smiles

 

By Nicholas Peart

Written 27th October 2018

(c)All Rights Reserved

 

Image: Arcaion

The Light Inside Of Us

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Ash fog brown
on a marathon to quartz
a slow and steady eternity
to the heart of the sun
but then what’s next?

Turned around
now I can see
revved mind energy or splendid fudge?
the process is all I can trust

Crushing it through corridors
passed out next to brief candles
there is no golden period
just the experience of life
or is it the randomness of life?

Ask the dust
ask the wind
ask the most primordial fragments of stardust
in the deepest vacuum of space and time

Even with the most advanced AI
and the entire dimensions and secrets of life
tapped and exhausted
a new landslide of questions
a brand new fire-bird
more insatiable than the last
breaks through
a more expansive longing forms
like blind love with no breaks
the captain thrown overboard and quartered
in the heat of the one-track revolution

Back to a ringed space worse than the other
undisciplined wonder knocked down too many
now Mediocrestan is what I crave
coming from a soul who lost his mind

This life…
its all a scattered game
a futile quest to control
if that’s what you want
let go

Then death…
the greatest leveller
death gives life the parity life cannot give
with all matter in union
all matter in peace
a cause for celebration
not for grief

 

By Nicholas Peart

Written: 26th -27th October 2018

(c)All Rights Reserved

 

Image: Felix Mittermeier

Fragile Plates

Giorgio di Chiricho

Down the fifty drawn vacuum pipes
His last run was timed out
It made him drown up the sacred crown
Longing for glory again
Nothing got swayed – nothing of note
Tired of the decrepit drone ballads
He took a trip lying down in an oval-shaped plain
In the next life it would be a sapphire bowl
Of purple fruit low hanging in cryptic labyrinths
The gutter bites
The knife and then the swipes
Locked doors and slashed faces
Ships re-built in bombed out yards
The grain now the high gain
The shooting crafts on mercy street
The brawls of crimson faded grey
Distraught lovers laugh
Even though it is no game
Crazy hearse-chamber minds
Sabotaging time
Like a miner dealt the worst hand
His next mission is to kill now the thrill is botched
Until the lever breaks
And all kings, paupers, astronauts and pitchforks
Are strewn on a level field of play

 

By Nicholas Peart

Written on 2nd May 2018

(c)All Rights Reserved 

 

Image: Painting by Giorgio de Chirico

 

Natural Blues (A Reassessment)

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reeds scraping gristle

sound of thick pillar refinement

synergy going dilapidated

mattress excitement in

a formation

(ethereal ring)

 

all sacred buds and dominant postures

to wrangle the rise of suit equipment

barge jumping off a wooden bridge

high jump mental insanity

peacock suit of twisted…

revitalising exhaust turbine

polluted with low pick ups

and the same ricocheting chords

the lads chorus follows shortly

and stadium bang

white dwarf collapse of plan B

open protective fusion

two reptilian eyes

bloodstream corrupt

now falling

soil and poison

 

evil stench and dead sun

(sub human electricity)

grind hurl TV rock star abuse

on a motorcycle doing 180

distinction in the shape

of the level the sound and the person

and now we hark back to Earls Court 75

and the high fat content

at the expense of the dole originators

bow down Charlie Patton and Son House

(with Blind Lemon in the ante room)

humble cotton field afterglow

the stadium was non existent

and they knew

Sonny Boy knew

Honeyboy Edwards knew

and the bliss of a Kronenberg and snuff

after the pioneering devil enigma

white hot

 

a nihilist at Three Folks

beats a nihilist at Knebworth

 

 

By Nicholas Peart

Taken from the poetry collection; ‘In Arctic Measure (Poems 2004-7)’

©All Rights Reserved

Image: Angular Visions (2015) by Nicholas Peart

 

 

All Strong In A Silent Plain

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Lion channels low under solemn crow glides

the real beast crashing too hard

I saw marks all over the parish floor

the uniform conformed emotion

risks like snake bites

an area of fear untouched

perhaps locked for eternity

as ever I see death in countless eyes

I muster all physical and mental strength to pray

and on top in the most tender of ways

spiritual inter-cosmic multitasking

until my brain collapses and candles surround me

an unusual death to dwell on

where grains have no meaning and screams are forever muted

love vanishing to the naked eye

but to the third eye only so much one can stand

it cannot be but walking on air with his breath the key

all signals unfurl and unleash the dreams of golden days

but journeys back can rock the core too much

even if all risks must stain and fear be embraced.

Arms to fruitless mother milk

with four white pristine horses ready to glow a shade of bright blinding white

an eclipse purity

my loving sometimes got in the way

and my chains were my companions in disguise

my dangerous impulses not so strong anymore

purple skies appear when they want

but every phenomenon is a more profound gift

my new responsibility is to sharpen my listening

my most cherished love

I am here and I won’t bolt

by my bedside my heart and refreshed brain wait

I have nothing but time

To read our lines

our back spaces

these holy chests most people bury

mine are in the public domain

don’t be scared and don’t try

after all

everybody makes tunnel love

but many make war light-bright

private love

public war

a duality of insanity

a unity of nothing

I shut my eyes and roll to the next day

every meaningful marble with me always

tall lightweight pendulum rocks

each swing a new interval

but my mind is a landscape the same as it ever was

I don’t leave the hill

I feign no emotion

like a statue still

only the pouring acid rain can shift me

yet electric minds can fix and propel me

all the while pouring out the hole

old laws applied to obtuse staccato barrel drones

no motion

for the fuel to rise above the needle of colour-sound

the brakes are off

multiple claw-ladders await and before I ask the first top-sphere question

I become part of the full uni-vertigo trip

top bop-trad-time-forte

meta-moves (a web of new coordinates)

all strong in a silent plain

 

by Nicholas Peart

17th January 2016

©All rights reserved

Image: Driftwood (2012) by Nicholas Peart

Life File

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In the limited train of life
all eyes point to invisible glory
a self conquest over great city fires
along the tow-line never straight
inside I watch and photograph
with my bloodstream the current
then I bend down to salvage a fresh severed leaf
turning it inward
I waste no energy
I let the wind, the sun and the rain speak
in this way the connection is made
kingdoms dissolve whilst spirits lift or crash
no dice required
only a clean mind and a warm heart
then it can start all over in a white room
and not overloaded in a junk shop
now the prized question is asked;
how can the unconscious shine brighter?
and the conscious be dimmed?
or;
how can the dark be killed?
and let there only be light?
all files should be minded
all sides of life relished
killing one for the other
then you must return to the core and try harder my friend
too much light blinds
in darkness there can be energy
restoration
savouring and making the dark your ally only makes light more delightful
and life of more value
precious
like the air we breathe and the water we drink

 

by Nicholas Peart

Written: 19th January 2016

©All Rights Reserved

Image: Equator Line (2014) by Nicholas Peart
Location: Macapá, Brazil