In this search for some coded truth

This gospel in faded Braille on a crack-ridden wall

This grail, this mirror neither convexed nor concaving in

I weigh the vines against my burdens

Will they hold my weight? And will I have to burn

Them like rope bridges—I cannot recede

Any longer, climbing these summits throwing one hook up

And then the other, hoisting myself upwards inch by inch

Locking myself out of memory after memory, moment after moment

Out of the corridors I tried and those whence I came

Marked with chalk, marked with bloody footsteps—soiled

I make my way through the labyrinth

A hasty cursory trial of every error


i was left alone, in the cold

nights went by, slowly — with echoes

of raindrops on a shattered pane

succeeding, cascading, falling in waves

and shivering tides — i shifted

to absence, dropped the scales

unbalanced and diluvian the clouds weighed

on my heart and the sky — you kept me

tethered to your heart and though

it is now gone my chains still bind me to loss

inescapable — your specter follows me

wherever i hide, assuming your story has eyes

i find repose and recluse

i mourn — you

are the shadows beneath my feet

and the…


I

mais à la nuit d’hui la lune n’est plus en phase

son croissant, les lentes floraisons de son miroir blâfard

je m’y attelle du regard et elle ne touche plus

son sommet, l’étoile polaire se tient seule dans le ciel bâtard

elle s’éloigne, l’horizon la tire vers l’abîme sans couleur,

déduke mèn a selánna — au loin le soleil

se cache derrière et les pléiades s’endorment

ses étoiles se taisent et l’accord perd sa quinte

bételgeuse est en mode mineur, la voûte s’élève céleste

s’est éclipsée, le sommeil blanc me réveille, j’erre dans l’eigengrau,

je fais de la lumière…


I’ve had to delve

Always deeper, coursing through

Years, millenia, aeons, eras geological

Physically immaterial, past

Gazing as my sentiments deposed

As sediments, as thin lines

And bands and banners on the face of a cliff

I’m the reverse alpinist, the spelunker

Gazing down into the abyss

And watching her look back

Seeking out answers, petrified, as fossils,

Thin lines of ash tracing that which killed Eris

And Eros, the cataclysm, vanquishing Euros and Eos

Setting them all to rest

My mass extinction event, my little ice age,

Six (hundred) (thousand) (million) years have passed

Over my calcified memories surfacing…


I was left alone, in the cold

Nights went by, slowly—with echoes

Of raindrops on a shattered pane

Succeeding, cascading, falling in waves

And shivering tides—I shifted

To absence, dropped the scales

Unbalanced and diluvian the clouds weighed

On my heart and the sky—you kept me

Tethered to your heart and though

It is now gone my chains still bind me to loss

Inescapable—your specter follows me

Wherever i hide, assuming your story has eyes

I find repose and recluse

I mourn—you

Are the shadows beneath my feet

And the sun too, the chimes and wind

You surround me, your…


They say there is no true black

Without light—for black is the substractive,

The without, the anti-light, the lack

And not merely a solid tint, a matter, an objective

And strange species of camouflaged darkness;

No, the darkest black is that which retains a subjective

Lighter vantage point—the sheen of enamel or bitumen, to harness

The darkness of the backdrop, to dominate the reflective

The darkest of all blacks is not slick, or smooth, it is rough;

But the truest black is not the purest black; the purest is celestial,

That of a curtained night or of closed eyelids on…


half-horned child of the darkened past—proven bestial time and time again—and the unmistakenly hominid hope of a future, any future, persistenly brighter than the present—and yet it never comes.


I have longed for a blue, pure

And of cerulean proportions, chiefly—mending

As the contour of clouds on the azure

And yet also dark, as ultramarine,

Deep and oceanic—a color

Of late nights and spurious conversation

And the Atlantic, a tone of valor

And of wine, of payments in libations

I am lost in my search for a hue

Substractive, the tint of a photo negative

As a positive—the kind of absolute blue

That one finds tentative

When eyelids have been shut before the sun

And sight is substractive, matterless, anti-lighting

Though as an acrylic, as matter, when all but…


I was left alone, in the cold

Nights went by, slowly—with echoes

Of raindrops on a shattered pane

Succeeding, cascading, falling in waves

And shivering tides—I shifted

To semi-absence, an oblique translucence, dropped the scales

Unbalanced and diluvian the clouds weighed

On my heart and the sky—you kept me

Tethered to your heart and though

You are now gone my chains still bind me—to what? to loss,

Inescapably—your specter follows me

Wherever I hide, assuming your story has eyes

I find repose—where? nowhere

And recluse I mourn—you

Are the shadows beneath my feet

And also the sun above me, you…


when time leaves me behind, days bleed into one another

like streaks of not-yet-dry ink blotting on the sheet

paper cuts, the sharpest of knives, the razor on my skin

its rules a semblant of rigor before my torporous gaze

its edges a guard—a guardian—a focus, its ambition

to surround the chaos of my thoughts in a prison

thinner than glass, blotting the shadows and

lets the wind blow it away—a stark contrejour

to the opaque heaviness of all that surrounds me

and the room, silent but for the rustling of sheets not yet bound

to one another, as my…

Solverv Gaul-Berrard

As above, so below—fragments from the erratic—poetry, astrology

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