1. |
Senza Uscita
03:01
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2. |
Devotion
14:03
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her incessantly panicked voice stains the night sky with holiness and devotion.
between the painted lines lit by neon signs,
she paces nervously, a peregrine amidst machines.
entrenched in pagan words, embittered in the parking lot.
exchanging tense dialogue, a telegraphic scene of fear.
there’s shelter in my embrace but havoc reigns beyond the door.
she clings to her surreptitious fiends like ailing vagaries of joy.
the trepidatious state of shock, how it shows in the physiognomy she employs.
but I am ageless, embracing chaos with sangfroid.
she needs an anchor, a telluric pillar of strength.
and I regret that I couldn’t carry us to the sunlit meadows you dreamt of.
but my knees buckled under the weight of our flaws and amplified my ailments.
we find ourselves ensconced in a complacency of romance, fractured in an instant.
this grand illusion that we’d set our hand and seal to a paper we can’t extricate from.
so tragic that our love presupposed was abandoned in the swale.
so elegant to witness hands on the knives of enmity and farces.
you’re broken down, so cynical, incapable of expression.
but when you smile it’s wonderful, so why disguise it?
who are you, my dear?
who blackened your heart?
intrinsic ego;
who are you, my dear?
an attempt to assuage her distress, our breathing frail and out of sync.
the hum of the fluorescent lights, surveilling over the parking lot.
these moments hang in the air like particles diffused and shorn.
she cradles cherished memories, the apneic silence deafening.
I’d move the redwoods west, to let the sun rise on my back.
and since the histrionics, we’ve been lost in the interim.
but if you and I could have found a way to ameliorate, I’d have taken the chance.
and as I trek back east, I’ll let the sun rise on my chest.
you just hold your head in your hands.
you’d exploit the ways to abnegate, but now it’s far too late.
I'm gently learning to internalize my faults.
but please understand, I won’t wait around for you.
I will never forgive you, but I’ll let the sun rise on my back.
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3. |
The Amphitheater
08:52
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we’ve been wasting our breath on notorious expectations.
through the loneliest bones under swaying starlight,
we sink into the filth where purity is sin.
now I’ll govern your infidelity.
our roses wilt under the sun.
we’ve sown the seeds of malcontent.
we’re discovering blood after a roseate dusk.
the holy black tap drips down the spine.
drips down the spine,
our eyes intertwined.
drips down the spine,
drips down.
choke on your feeble condolences while violating blind consent.
this tragedy was our best conquest.
a defiant luster apprehends.
in this glade, your petals unfurl
and I bathe in your languid splendor.
do you feel oppressed here, in the air?
but even when I’m on my knees,
and even when I’m spitting teeth,
you still ravage me and disparage me.
you still ravage me and disparage me.
succumbing to a coveting gaze,
toeing the line between passion and torture.
assuaging a ravenous desire,
toeing the line between failure and fortune.
we intertwine our splendid intuition,
devoured by your wretched inhibition.
I’m burning up with every execution.
we’re heading towards assured annihilation.
surrounded by roses in liminal bloom,
a garden of words ameliorates the paths/past.
a long repose under these swaying stars
will still deliver us into decay.
and laying with hands linked in eclipsed array
will leave scars as bare as the banks of the amphitheater.
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4. |
Hallowed and Harrowed
01:20
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hold on to holy silence.
fade into the hallowed cloth.
entwined in ecstasy,
immaculate dreams.
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5. |
Abendrot
06:33
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I can’t sleep without her embrace or liminal space.
askance in the perceived serenity.
and as she breathed,
her chest rose like the swell of waves.
mellifluous birdsong streaks through the sunlit glass.
alighting her figure, framed like a portrait.
studying her form, I’m lost for words.
soundlessly sharing the warmth of our bodies.
and as she traces along the silk and satin,
I draw maps of the rivers in her skin.
grey skies, white lace, black hearts.
wide-eyed and tongue-tied.
and the touch of her skin, how it must be a sin;
the light of her lips, saccharine.
as I grow more lost with her every breath,
and fade into the harrowed cloth.
enraptured in our bed,
the pain is an anchor,
mooring me—unrelenting—in her reality.
her scars begin to grow.
I’m seared into her skin like sutures,
complicit in her mutilation.
holding on to holy silence,
coveting and ravenous.
courage gets stuck in our throats
like the twisted fiction she acts out
while pacing along the edge of the precipice.
with her nails on my back
and her teeth on my neck,
she ravages what remains of our tryst.
will these wounds heal?
only time will tell.
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6. |
Étude #1 (Mer)
01:18
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stars aligned in syzygy.
their colors faded, their details crude.
this tide of songs and bones will endure the storm;
a lunate moon diverging.
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7. |
Astræa / Innocence
05:41
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midnight calls, groping me with sodden fingers.
the rain tears black tendrils out of the gravid clouds.
and as the embers devour, coruscating on the wind,
the lovers reduce to boneblack cinders in the urn,
and a shadow on the street stares, languorously agitating.
she cries out to the concrete, to the ruins, the rubble, and the grime.
her words spill and run down the walls in droves into the gutters.
she calls out to the night sky, teeth shining amid black planes of paint.
the lover is brutalized by her beloved innocence.
with ink soundlessly staining the golden dome of a wretched cathedral,
I'm tied to the steeple of a burning firmament.
hurling panicked distress into a heavenly abyss,
she’ll fade away like frigid vapor, like the holy wisp of winter’s ghost.
I can’t forget this architecture, a monument to souls betrayed.
I can’t forgive this annihilation, an unforgiving antidote.
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8. |
Étude #2 (Nuit)
01:10
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9. |
We Will Dismantle Death
03:48
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your tremulous eyes in silver lamplight.
my haloed fingers in eternal winter.
arise.
arise, my love.
our room’s new ribcage is sprouting.
white apparitions will crawl down these walls,
so spill your bright vapor down the hall.
behind this cracked plate glass of rustling sin,
you spit your black vapor breath.
we will dismantle death.
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10. |
Winter Light
01:33
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11. |
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I’ve wound these wounds across my body
as reminders of our history and promises.
while bathing yourself in the lies you weave,
that acrimonious night we spent in the rose garden.
paint me like the villain in your fiction,
but you can’t mask the unsettling truth.
your paroxysms of paranoia carry no weight here, dear,
in the rose garden.
mollified for now, I can breathe a sigh
while you caress me, undress me, possess me with discarnate vows.
broken bones and forced smiles.
string me up or cut me loose.
a twilit temple graveyard.
a storm of moonlit petals
and desaturated luminance blankets the tall grass.
you couldn’t bury me deep enough.
buried in the rose garden,
we intertwine our hands.
under the dome of stars,
only in death do we relent;
in death.
I’ve worn these scars across the country.
your words scatter on the wind like fallen leaves.
may these memories fade with ignominy
in the sagacious acumen of the rose garden.
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12. |
Carousels
13:50
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come closer to see what you pillage from me.
I’m tired of counting clocks in sheer anticipation of your love’s neuroses.
pull further now from me.
watch me scream into decay.
I see no future here; just dejection remains to harbor resentment,
and suffering. abdication,
the integrity of incoherence.
our red carnation of dissolution.
our carnation.
I can’t recall how we began to fall;
these histories are marred by memories.
come closer to see the scars you whispered into me.
idolizing signs forever now,
satirizing knives forever now.
would she stumble over the hollow words she offers in resignation?
we pretend the ending is internalized.
I keep silent in her presence, praying for affirmation.
unfortunately, I’m met with insouciance.
she is the lead in my chest, dragging me underwater.
we pretend the ending is internalized.
she cries violently into the dark until our bodies depart
and our souls lay side by side, awaiting heaven’s despair.
bloodmist on the heavy air as
we pretend the ending is internalized.
genuflect before your gods.
recompense against the odds.
goddess or heathen?
take comfort in consequence;
this exercise is finalized.
the sinister sighs, the look in your eyes.
bite down on the veins in my neck.
fate bends, remaining pinned beneath your ribs.
put down your silken hair,
let me drink the water from your mouth.
set down your feign brocade,
let me lick the venom from your tongue.
a hedonist, a succubus.
your desolate bloodwhite tap crawls up the spine.
crawls up the spine,
our eyes intertwined.
crawls up the spine,
crawls up the spine,
crawls up.
put down your silken hair,
let me drink the water from your mouth.
set down your feign brocade,
let me lick the venom from your tongue.
your tears I deign to keep.
there are no ashes left to weep.
her hands invent the science of pain, delivered by a knife.
her hands form a perfect eclipse; she cuts into my throat.
and so we part, with the winds of change blowing at our backs.
with the moon as man and the sun as woman,
admire us as we clash for eternity.
take comfort in consequence;
this exercise is finalized.
take comfort in consequence;
this exercise is finalized.
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13. |
Senza Angoscia
04:43
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14. |
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Hakanai Brooklyn, New York
voted most likely to languish in obscurity.
Hakanai recommends:
born but left-handed
by Birdfeeders
friends and feelings.
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we meet - to create something pure. an expression that was pure then - what now?
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皿屋敷 (Sarayashiki)
by Ghost Park
for getting lost in the sewers.
go to albumIf you like Hakanai, you may also like:
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A beautiful snapshot of the inevitable pain, injury, and isolation that comes with being a human existing around other humans.
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Cermony's Ross John Farrar experiments with synths, bass, & percussion to make music similar to that from the '80s homemade tape scene.
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