Tuesday, July 4, 2017

inwardstellarframework(prod. by cyborg 303)

written and performed by stranded

produced by cyborg 303

tumbleweed scuffle
under water
with swords made of flame
but they don’t disturb the water
its fluid state is sustained
the fire is more an image
than a temperature thing
but that’s not to say
that the ignition’s
not an instant away
the ripples of transcension
don’t exhibit decay
they’re a bubble
that keeps expanding
while its density stays
a dragon made of fire
swims in a rage
no horizon
the dark comprises
every inch of the blaze
fucks you up like goku
with wrenches for days
light reduction
the sun conducting monkey business
with shade
what was before
nothing more than a vestigial stain
a tale
to be told
to those
who descend from the pain
candyman mythology
the horror of childhood dreams
materialize on earth
in a subservient cloud of bees
a legend is not as much
what it was
as how it’s seen
its measure
is the amount that believes
powerful seeds
once sown
these myths sprout into plants
and trees
that trickle down
like gallons
that span mountains
with streams
the convolution of veins
that protrude from the range
curiosity mass produces
mad fruit for the brain
this cyborg’s music
is a beautiful thing
it alludes to a strange
distant future that changed
the way that horn toots
is insane
in cahoots with the way
that drum loop is arranged
to an indian sort of flute
when it’s played
and the effect
on a snake’s movement
that’s presumably made
i’m moved to allow myself
to be removed from my cage
and explore
a new obscure evolutional stage

my cocoon torn
the mutant of blades
exhumed from a storm
with all the swords
that bloomed in the grave
in the shadows
our atoms plot
to improve what they shape
in some inhabitants
their appetites
soon are assuaged

everlasting wisdom
a flame established
in the middle of snow
twenty below

it tolerates the wind
as it blows
but holds
the principle
represented by the alchemist’s stone
transforms anything into gold
contemplation finds mutation
at the end of its road

the more you think
the more you sink
into a hole
like a cinnamon roll
into your soul
in the throes
of a gentle maelström
a tunnel to wonderland
a sojourn
that even seldom
dummies don’t understand
two birds in the bush
are rarely worth one in the hand
“i’m humble”
aren’t the words
of a humble child
or man
phantasmagorical grams
cause my lungs to expand
and they magnify all the data
i put under my lamp
i see as clear as the substance constructed
after bunson-ing sand
i scroll through neuroholograms
to summon guns to my hands
disinter jewels
from the most industrial scans
like echo hunters
to the umbral under lands

deep gnomes
tapping on stones
to track what they hold
by paying close attention
to the refraction of tones

even their keen ears
can miss the path that is shown

and no one listens better
than these cats
on the globe
mental manipulation of shadows
is known as umbrakinesis
when you behave
as if you have a remote
but what do you call it
when you’re the one
beneath the shadow’s control
when your every action
is decided
by light’s absence alone
slightly lit
i exist in a world
blacker than coal
but such pressure
has been known
to yield spectacular stones
shinigami apples
fibonacci fractals explode
we’re surrounded by patterns
that extend labyrinths below
the dimension of which
when measured beneath
examining close
the further in you zoom
they seem to actually grow
this lagomorph hole
an intrepid theoretical swirl
the depths that unfurl
are like leaping
off the edge of the world
just to discover
where you were
was just a speck of the mural
this sets off elucidation
like menes spitting ‘dural’

tossed in rumination
your whole perspective is hurled
your comprehension upended
a 3d structure twisted
into other dimensions
and even then
that wouldn’t cover
but so much of existence
the complexity of the physics
is like a tesseract
crumbled up and disfigured

to quantify it
would require hundreds of digits
and john nash formulas
scribbled in clusters
on windows

the most abknormal
out of all of the kninja
blades precipitate from clouds
he manifests with his fingers
a tragic storm on the forecast
perpetual winter
all shadows and grains of sand
telekinetically rendered

from a grenade
that genetically splinters
and crashes into the brains
of the most perceptive of listeners
the cellular whispers
hybrid code tether constrictors
reach forth
to what hasn’t yet been configured
and methodically wrap themselves
around telepathic pictures
with a direct
but nonthreatening signature
commands wander
as they will
to where they’re destined to venture

1 comment:

  1. That's a fun study!
    Using the word even where you did....idk