"Black Patterns"i try to focus my mem’ries.wait for the Lord to send me.spend so much time just waiting.might as well work off my anticipating.so many ways to be fearful,it’s all the same shade of yellow.don’t let it make of us ruin.we’ll burn it and go like it’s a fossil fuel.i’ve seen the boy of bathsheebadistorted through camera lucida.david is david is david;from one to the next, it still means “beloved”.it looks like a simple black pattern—no change in shade or colour.there are no lines between spaces.everything’s black, and nothing’s the blackest.i could transpose this to rhythm.a song made of sound absolution.something to conjure the devil,and at the same time, dispose of his evil.now the market just goes to the bleachers.the whole crowd is one teacher.the stage with their eyes on the audience.they eat it up, they eat it up.the Son of Man on a hill, and the crowd turns.no one can look away.and He said, yeah, He said, i would do greater things.He gave, He gave, He gave His Ghost.He said, He said, He said, He said i’d do greater things.i believe Him, and i believe Him, of course.last night in the sanctuary,causing our voices to carry,i received some sort of vision,like a dream of a God who is Holy and Risen;i saw a sweet river rushing.the Lion’s jaw was crushing.i saw a Name being hallowedthrough a body of limbs lost in factoral fallow.but pianos won’t play without handsto drop down a song.so the player stood to her feet, and beganher twenty minutes home.and He said, yeah, He said, i would do greater things.in Him, just Him, in Him, i boast.yeah, He said, He said, He said, He said i’d do greater things.i believe Him, and i believe Him, of course.and He said, yeah, He said, i would do greater things.to separate, separate the sheep from the goats.yeah, He said, He said, He said, He said i’d do greater things.i believe Him, and i believe Him, of course.

Apr 15 -

"Black Patterns"

i try to focus my mem’ries.
wait for the Lord to send me.
spend so much time just waiting.
might as well work off my anticipating.

so many ways to be fearful,
it’s all the same shade of yellow.
don’t let it make of us ruin.
we’ll burn it and go like it’s a fossil fuel.

i’ve seen the boy of bathsheeba
distorted through camera lucida.
david is david is david;
from one to the next, it still means “beloved”.

it looks like a simple black pattern—
no change in shade or colour.
there are no lines between spaces.
everything’s black, and nothing’s the blackest.

i could transpose this to rhythm.
a song made of sound absolution.
something to conjure the devil,
and at the same time, dispose of his evil.

now the market just goes to the bleachers.
the whole crowd is one teacher.
the stage with their eyes on the audience.
they eat it up, they eat it up.

the Son of Man on a hill, and the crowd turns.
no one can look away.

and He said, yeah, He said, i would do greater things.
He gave, He gave, He gave His Ghost.
He said, He said, He said, He said i’d do greater things.
i believe Him, and i believe Him, of course.

last night in the sanctuary,
causing our voices to carry,
i received some sort of vision,
like a dream of a God who is Holy and Risen;

i saw a sweet river rushing.
the Lion’s jaw was crushing.
i saw a Name being hallowed
through a body of limbs lost in factoral fallow.

but pianos won’t play without hands
to drop down a song.
so the player stood to her feet, and began
her twenty minutes home.

and He said, yeah, He said, i would do greater things.
in Him, just Him, in Him, i boast.
yeah, He said, He said, He said, He said i’d do greater things.
i believe Him, and i believe Him, of course.

and He said, yeah, He said, i would do greater things.
to separate, separate the sheep from the goats.
yeah, He said, He said, He said, He said i’d do greater things.
i believe Him, and i believe Him, of course.

(Source: citynoir)

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