tom-mccone
Whisper
New Zealander
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haunts (old)
dance of days, head as a twig, to pass the time away. tendrils unfold and try not grip too tight or loose, to never lose or choke; sometimes feeling the low roar of blood rushing through flow-spaces, held in prepare and transparency. in these moments, there is a fine tapestry we were woven upon, gestures lain side-by-side. sayin' all the same words, in distinct& ruffled tongue. / cold snap, and there's layers again. cycles run circles and somewhere, at the back of the room, there's an utterance: "funny, that". and i wonder if i'm hearing my voice or just seeing my own breath. it echoes in the corners, out between shadows. my left eye's been twitching, but only as ghost. i carry out the honours after, only by some gnarled sense of capitulation. / but that's life.
3
Mar 14, 2016
-47
from the windows, a mottled sky, / pink & blue, wraps across the western / hills of the valley. tararuas draped in
17
Mar 13, 2016
leavin' (pt ii)
so far, so great, & the promise / of so long lingers on tomorrow; / hung on tenterhooks, staggering
20
Mar 10, 2016
tending
it is such a fine thing, to see with clear eyes / all the shine of the world, refracting through both & either you and/or i. / such a surprise, so strange, but by no means the kinda strange
21
Mar 6, 2016
delta-mana
you were set as stars in a night, / relentless, tangled, act of own / will. i was a juxtaposition
80
Feb 20, 2016
dissolver (3)
dreamt in strange shifting blocks, interwoven and with startled faces, sentencings spoken wordless. woke up to the blurry thought: / sometimes in talk, i am confronted with ideas that in no way reconcile with my own structures. in response, i often choose to not say anything, or let it uncomfortably sit in my gut. in cases where the opposing point won't be heard, i suppose this is alright. but, when my own rooted beliefs are challenged in a valid manner, it is more akin to the silence of shame than of dignification. is this symbolic of the internalisation of a more sound philosophy, or inability to process it against the grain of my own? / avoiding argumentation where it is of little purpose is one of my prime conversational aspects, and in an overarching paradigm avoiding unnecessary speech in general. but what internally portrays as tact can come off as indignant coolness, or bitter indifference. so, do i continue to speak in only the meaningful outer lashes, or let down the floodgates to some degree?
5
Feb 2, 2016
deserter (2)
we were wandering down the side of the highway, pickin' blackberries on the way back to the car. this'd hit my mind many times over the past week, and will probably continue out into the future: / there's somethin' ticking away in there, makes me shrink away from humanity, despite the loneliness i ain't wanna amplify any. words i need to say crop up, out of the blue mist of living, and internally i make all the motions to spread 'em out, see the way my hands, lips would move, in exact musculature sweeps. but it don't follow through. / is this leavin' blues? that if i shrink away from those who care, it'll be easier to let go once more? or just an excuse for laziness (fairly sure 'twas for the last month or so, last city)? if i swore i'd love equally and with open heart, why can't i keep eye contact, even with my own cousin? is this penance for all ashamedness i can't slip from my hands?
6
Feb 1, 2016
disappointer (1)
sat in the back seat, watching the hills cladding SH2 go by, with a tightened silence all over my face, couldn't help reflect: / sometimes it digs deep down into me, thinking of all the conceptions planned out that i was considered to have aligned with, but can't bring myself to think the same. to what degree am i the image of failure in all my leader's and follower's books? all simply for abiding by ideologies that seem to occur naturally. / but, am i failing myself and, transitively, failing more critically henceforth, if i disavow my own convictions for sake of demonstrating love to those i care the most for? is it worse to disappoint my parents, who've thrown large parts of their lives to the wind for my sake; my friends, who've laid down their loyalty for knowing, mutually assured, that collectively our virtues are assured; to weaken strength or trust in other's eyes for the sake of my own moral solidification?
4
Jan 31, 2016
storm
once again, point on shore, / with lit-up eyes / and soaked, gold: fresh hope.
12
Jan 30, 2016
acreage
dug up my own bones, what / a shock, from the soil. found / myself amidst the roots and
31
Jan 15, 2016
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