Eidel Cost

Fern,

green and stemming from hands.

Smells of sulpher and banana.

I stand...nothing around, in a mess.

Decay Machine Man

(Slow build up)

Bringing in the decay of my means,
the metal by which I breath.
Bringing down the seat of machine,
by which was built on human scream.
The chaos of life,
building itself.
Baring down upon the flesh that made it.
The chaos of strife,
come by steel grip and disease.
Searing in the temptations crevice.

(Hard roll on, screaming guitar for chorus)

We are gone but leave behind,
the machines that we built.
They wreck the flesh then entwine,
that which connects
the blade to the hilt.

Never see what we create.
Never see again.
Never see what is now there.
The eyes of intelligence create.

(back to slow heavy build up)

Bringing in the decay of our time,
the copper by which it breathes.
Bringing down the power of man,
by which was built on human suffering.
The chaos of life,
building itself.
Baring down upon the flesh that made it.
The chaos of strife,
come by steel grip and disease.
Searing in the temptations crevice.

(Hard roll on, screaming guitar for chorus)

We are gone but leave behind,
the machines that we built.
They wreck the flesh then entwine,
that which connects
the blade to the hilt.

Never see what we create.
Never see again.
Never see what is now there.
The eyes of intelligence create.


(repeat)

Aghast against the skin

Aghast,
Aghast,
against the skin I gasp.
The water fills,
I cannot thrill my lover from her task.

Such bile infestation I feel in the star,
a keen imagination,
beneath,
below too far.

Aghast,
Aghast,
against the skin I grasp.
The blood boils,
the station recoils from their hated past.

Pile on the bodies,
in this isolated place.
A million miles from the earthly soil,
I have no human face.

Aghast,
Aghast,
against the skin I clasp.
the stinging armor,
covers the farmer who collects our wrap.

Sending out the hunters,
out to this lonely place,
a million miles from the earthly soil,
they won't recognize this face.

wretched head

Spint off,

larooche his spine did spit.

An able frame,

twist within the axis parab'le.

Fever not accompanying the congested

sinul cavity cavernous coaxed.

Throat pulled from the ashen coals

and simmering under the glaze of iced glue-on.S.

Wretched head you succumb to the ill,

wretched thing, letting in this hell.

If you weren't the controllers domicile

I'd rip thee from a place atop

a pillar from hence your base.

Tissue....bone...tissue.

cough. tissue....pass the fucking tissue and my tea.

This cold is killing me.

East of Nod

+Wz

Heavy weight on the stomach, crude and distorted.

Light headed and imbalance to the frame.

Eyes dry and head aches pressing behind my ocular orbs.

How much sprinkle went into the form of my green to brown forest?

How much tint to the taint is there on this T to the H to the C?

Ugh is the only sound I want to make.

Ugh

Salvia

Deigned on the designer Lysergic dots, forming liquid dreams from a paper ream.

Fed on the fungal lattice work of a psychedelic knee-jerk into my personal

symposium on the ways things were, are and always shall be.

Licked the mescaline from the rim of the powder,

not too far gone from the extasy power and on I stand,

alone and strong on this pedestal of confident experiment.

Each attachment to the eye and brain I worked for the intent of

controlled insane,

and yet HOW,

yet HOW does a man engorged in his habit,

not expect it to one day find him and bite back?

Limp and dead away I found myself in a truth to say,

the way I might envision hell if hell was earth and earth was hell today.

Enclosed in the skin I hadn't awakened to until the fume had reached

my lung,

and then and then it wasn't much when I closed my eyes and lost the touch

of a reality I had once known,

or thought I had.

There before me was the avatar of sad,

of despair and fear,

of neurosis and lingering doubt

about the conformity of substance,

physical reality and thought.

Embraced I was in the awkward state of a wrapping

consciousness I could not debate.

Here I thought I would be lost for good,

until the voice came as I knew it would.

I came back quite slowly,

deformed from my face,

entering a new world

and awaking to a new race.

So here my friends the tale comes to an end,

as quick as it finished from whence it began.

Variables, Blue and Luminous

Galaxy: Messier 64 (Evil/ Black Eye)
ZOA II Research Stellar Observatory

{(In your own voice)unrealistic and failing...}Masterwork. Period peace. "Give me something a little more...emotive. I'm looking for a cultural tone, something sad."



Adagio in G minor begins. The strings....begin to weep.

Chief Cosmitecht Isaac Yuri Ghozzali closed his eyes as a violin began to slip between a subtle building of tempo and he was then lost within the baroque piece now curling up inside his chest. It lay there like the fist of Dogon and when the tears began to shed from the nano-audio ticks Yuri saw his daughter once more. He saw her last at age four, right before the cast. Before the spin-off.

It's been thirty thousand round now and Yuri was only 88 years into this vessel. His body was just as strong as ever, hadn't aged much beyond 25 but even if the human body still only retained such a short cellular life span it wouldn't have mattered. Vesselation had changed all of that.

Albinoni passed and Yuri found a tear had fallen. It had been a long time.


He went to the window and stared out the fluidic aerogel. Beyond the distance between him and revelation there was the outline of the star he called, Ouroboros. Its blue stentorian body recalling the glamor of any other celestial body near it. This was a star, massive and dominating. Soon it would go hypernova.....but Yuri.....Yuri had a different plan in mind.
Surrounding the titan was an equally impressive sight artificially designed. Within this machine Yuri would trap the inevitable hypernova and harness the energy before tossing it into the supermassive black hole at the center of his galaxy causing a jet to be triggered spraying the galaxy with the LBV radiation, transformed by Yuris machine. This radiation could trigger a whole new evolution of life throughout the galaxy. Yuri was tired and wanted to enact change himself. There was no waiting around for god....simply for the star to reach critical mass.

Yuri only had to continue watching....watching Ouroboros. No matter how many bodies, no matter how much vesselation was required, eventually....he would be participant and creator of the new change. No matter the outcome, something new was needed.

It could be another thousand years....but he had all the time and all the bodies in the world....or at least in the station.

He waited and thought of his family.


The star was so beautiful.