Grin of Cognizance

[rowens]

Grin of Cognizance

Mystery, lack
of resolution; shadows that
aren't cast, remain through adulthood
in the town we're born;

the moon waxing beyond the field where there used to be no house
recalls childhood as the sun, a ball of yarn, 
dethreaded by the cat;

he's smiling, all cats
girls in my heart of hearts
(my loins);

somehow escorted, like a high boy on angel-glue
to prom: those figures stand as druids
over anxiety-beds, and scatter
when, waking the good grey bard,
knuckles as sweaty as grass.
 
That night at the fork, where I tried
to trade my soul for several girls
round my age;
and how he laughed:
the goblin.

Today, the moon wanes;
sun bright and that mama of loons
visible: the Devil sleeping like a foreigner on the job.
I smile too.

[matsunosuperfan]

Grin of Cognizance

Mystery, lack
of resolution; shadows that
aren't cast, remain through adulthood
in the town we're born;

the moon waxing beyond the field where there used to be no house
recalls childhood as the sun, a ball of yarn, 
dethreaded by the cat;

he's smiling, all cats
girls in my heart of hearts
(my loins);

somehow escorted, like a high boy on angel-glue
to prom: those figures stand as druids
over anxiety-beds, and scatter
when, waking the good grey bard,
knuckles as sweaty as grass.
 
That night at the fork, where I tried
to trade my soul for several girls
round my age;
and how he laughed:
the goblin.

Today, the moon wanes;
sun bright and that mama of loons
visible: the Devil sleeping like a foreigner on the job.
I smile too.

It feels like a strong poem, but I'm not sure what to make of it. The title confuses me. We begin with a big dose of abstraction: mystery, lack, resolution, adulthood. Even the one concrete image, "shadows," are "not cast," so negated. This all feels thematic and intentional so I go with it. 

Second stanza is much more compelling for me with the provocative image of the sun as a ball of yarn (somewhat familiar) being dethreaded by a cat (totally novel and arresting). 

The progression into (my loins) is deliciously enticing, a lot of good confessional energy follows, though I also lose track of where we are and what is happening. The disorientation feels mostly productive, and sometimes just disorienting. Can't make heads or tails of the knuckles. Cool sound though, throughout. 

Love the mama of loons. Last line is a weird note to end on. Poem is very weird. I fux with it.

[rowens]

After a few days of the moon waxing, the Cheshire Cat appears. As the sun is the base and generator of context in the Earth Language Affective-Coherence, from which even nonsense and disruption beams and stirs, at that specific time, which is any time as there are memories and fantasies too, when the Cheshire Cat appears, like with Inanna and the Good Neighbors and even Lyra who plays above my room, novelty is a key to a door that exists.

This is how music can be more than a snake-charming pattern shaper. How shaping patterns can be like art brut canonized and excrement on the walls of what is:
Excrement is. That's fair.

And so am I.

The Affective-Coherent value of anything is already what the Sun Followers as well as the Hypocrites call holy.
This is too.

The shadowed parts of the moon don't reveal the grin, the grin simply is, like the spider on the one dollar bill.
And, as such, there are holy things that aren't holy for the sake of affective-coherent intensities in this Solar context.

There are other contexts. But context itself is this Sun business.

The Golden Ball Beyond the Sun you see some Holy Figures and even Kings holding are Images of the sun as the Sun, which is the Nonsense of the Virtual.

[matsunosuperfan]

After a few days of the moon waxing, the Cheshire Cat appears. As the sun is the base and generator of context in the Earth Language Affective-Coherence, from which even nonsense and disruption beams and stirs, at that specific time, which is any time as there are memories and fantasies too, when the Cheshire Cat appears, like with Inanna and the Good Neighbors and even Lyra who plays above my room, novelty is a key to a door that exists.

This is how music can be more than a snake-charming pattern shaper. How shaping patterns can be like art brut canonized and excrement on the walls of what is:
Excrement is. That's fair.

And so am I.

The Affective-Coherent value of anything is already what the Sun Followers as well as the Hypocrites call holy.
This is too.

The shadowed parts of the moon don't reveal the grin, the grin simply is, like the spider on the one dollar bill.
And, as such, there are holy things that aren't holy for the sake of affective-coherent intensities in this Solar context.

There are other contexts. But context itself is this Sun business.

The Golden Ball Beyond the Sun you see some Holy Figures and even Kings holding are Images of the sun as the Sun, which is the Nonsense of the Virtual.

Aight well with respect I may not leave many comments going forward as you seem very happy to just do your own thing, but I think it's sometimes a pretty cool thing