Allister Reynolds: March 2009

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Everything © A. Reynolds, 2006-2008.

Who is Allister Reynolds?

Inside your head

Inside your head
bubbles form thoughts

tiny superhighways
are built in tiny endless loops

for no reason at all, commuters
of all types
race toward their decline, all so that you may think
all so that you may feel

their journey surely
has a clear
and definite end
as well as beginning

life and death

the way that they take
is predetermined
and their purpose
their collective purpose is thought

while you masturbate
to whatever it is that gets you off

while you eat whatever it may be
just to provide energy
for masturbation

New Moon

I followed you to the front yard
and we wrestled amongst
the rows of crosses

we drank away the night
just like we were kids
again

night came
and i dared it
to steal you away
from me
i called out to the waning moon
overhead
but it didn't call back

your fingers lost grip
and i watched
in awe
as you trailed away
across the lake

someday
we'll meet
again
someday we'll harness both our heads
and tie down our hands
someday
when the tide comes, and pulls you from me
i'll let it take you away
and go on with you

Mandala

The sun overhead
screaming out color and light and sight
the ground, from below
holding you to its
own volition
the air you breathe
being remade over
and again

it seems like what you know
you will forget
sometime
and it seems that who you are
can change
day to day
the money you make
and the people you meet
will never last forever
something will fuck up

is it just cynicism
or realism
or just the
way things are?

that we all die
and our life
moot as it may be
will weave itself
an amazing tapestry of life
of love and friends
and food
with colors abound

our life will be a mandala
of time
and instinct and pleasure
make
and remake itself
just to be destroyed
in an instant
in ritual

Dualism

when the day comes faster than night
and the hours on the clock spin by and by
like the eyes in your head
when the colors come faster than print
and the powers that be
sweep you off your feet
and tomorrow brings
the new
over
and over again

its about time
we wept
and
slept
and
were swept out from our shells
but
too fucking bad, "it don't work that way"
in her accent
screaming out
too fucking bad
we are too fucking aware

does brain damage
damage your soul too?
does time grind at your immortal being
like it does the skin?
and in what appearance
do you intend to live the rest of your life?
from when you were five, with oblivion and fate at your toes?
or on the death bed with all your life gone from the heels?

really, how do you think this all works?
it makes no sense
"it dont work that way"