Kevin Trent Boswell

Magic Mirror

Listen to the incantation spoken.

I don’t know when
She’ll allow herself
To taste

But my table,
I’ve set with
Delectable treats

A hand extended,
An extension of the self

And the key,
A cipher of secrets
Awaits

Stumbling, visions,
Enchantment, a sleep spell

I fell into the lap
Of an interesting creature

Protocols of the forest
Forbade my desire

To invite the sprite
To join me for tea

Instead, I had to leave
A little trail of breadcrumbs

At the edge of the woods
And wait there, and hope

Hope she might follow me
Home to my village

Where I’d ask her questions
About the ways of her kind

And answer of my customs,
All her questions for me

But I don’t know the manners
Or the habits of the fae

Whether or not sprites
Enjoy breadcrumbs or tea

But along with the crumbs,
I inscribed a little spell

A string of runes on parchment
That summon a beast

When she touches those glyphs
With her soft, slender finger

She can scry the dark portal
Of hidden things that might be

Wolfish

They’ll tell you that you can do better, but you can’t

They’ll tell you that
You can do better,
But you can’t

You’ll think that
You can do better,
But you won’t

It isn’t about “settling”

Thinking of it that way
Is foolish

The trick to winning is simply
Understanding
What the finish line
Actually looks like

There is no
Everything
To be had

There is only the
Possibility
Of having someone ⠀
Who you can feel
Reasonably good about
Devoting yourself to

It’s Not about
Who will be
Devoted to you

But who
YOU
Devote yourself to

Every single person
You will ever encounter
Is batshit crazy

We’re all
Troubled
Flawed
Neurotic
Selfish
Broken
Angry
Boring
Insecure
Difficult
Gross

All of these things,
In one way or another

They reveal themselves
After enough time
And stress

Relationships
Are not about
Butterflies and
Romance

They’re about
Who you’re grateful
To have in your corner…

When the wolves
Are at your door

It’s about who you can
Stand to be around
When you’re at your lowest

When you’re seething with rage

When you’re working on
Something important

When you’re happy, sad,
Sick, hungry, horny

When you feel like you
Need to be invisible,
Or need to be seen

It was never
About what
You can have

It has always been
About what
You can give

And that
Is why
Very few people
These days
Are even halfway
Happy

If you find someone
Who you feel safe with,
Who makes you laugh

If you’re pretty sure they’re
Doing their best to keep you,
Trying to make you happy,
And you’re fairly certain
They’re not going to leave you

If you can make each other cum

If the way that they
Challenge you
To be at your best
Makes you feel even
1% more confident
That you can
Be your best

Then go look in the mirror
And promise yourself
That you’ll never leave,
Even after you go crazy,
Believing that you must leave

Because sooner or later,
You’ll do exactly that

You’ll talk yourself into ⠀
Doing something stupid ⠀
⠀
It’s what everyone does

It’s why everyone is unhappy

But if you’re smart,
You’ll sit tight and
Wait for it to pass

You will never cheat,
Not even once

Not even that little thing
That’s not technically cheating,
Except that it is, and you know it

If they smile
Because of you

And you smile
Because of them

Stop looking.
You’re done.
You’ve already won.

The grass
On the other side
Of the fence
Is on fire

Butterflies go away

Boring
Is good

A good partner
Regulates your
Nervous system

They don’t keep you
Spinning

People selfishly
Running around
Chasing their
Dopamine fix

Looking for a
Soulmate, a Twin Flame

What fucking asinine terms
Bedtime stories for children

Everyone is busy
Shopping for that
Special someone

THE ONE
Who excites them
The most

If they were smart,
They’d be
Selecting for
The person who
Bothers them
The least

Don’t look for the someone
Who ignites your passion
Twenty-four/seven

That motherfucker
Doesn’t exist

If they do,
There should be a
Warning label
On their forehead

Not the someone
Who gives you
The most

But the
Someone
Who ignites
Your desire
To give,
To Serve
To be selfless for

That’s the one
Who you’ll
Follow into hell
And come out
Smiling

Oh,
By the
Way

The wolves
Said to
Tell you
Hello

They said
They’ll be
Dropping by
To see you
Very soon

Mandala of Sand – Pt 1

I’ve shared this gargantuan anthem before, but not since 2021. This music was born of deep sadness but eventually became a source of joy.

I was grieving my beloved pit bull, Stacie. She was my baby girl for 16 years. I had to have the vet put her to sleep and I was with her as she passed.

To heal, I needed to make loud, angry metal guitar music. I felt pulled to something riff-based and modal, so I wouldn’t have to think about it very much. This piece has no vocals for the same reason.

I would be remiss not to mention my two main influences on this Trifecta of Doom, the bands Megadeth and Tool.

The final product was three movements, each one about twelve minutes in length. I find Part 1 to be the strongest, overall, but there are elements of the other two that others might like more.

The title is a reference to the intricate and finite spiritual sand art of the Tibetan Buddhist monks and Native Americans.

In this world, nothing lasts forever, but the only way we can be truly alive is to put 100% effort into the things we do. To half-ass things is to be dead before you die.

During that intense period of grief, working on this project was the only thing that brought me any kind of satisfaction at all.

Mandala of Sand – Pt. 1 is the final track on my third album, Area 25, available on all major music streaming platforms.

it must seem strange

can’t possibly
know why

and it must seem
strange

strange angling
on the ether

might feel awkward,
perhaps delightful
invasive, and yet, somehow,
respectful of boundaries,
that small sea of unknowns
between here and there

daring, perhaps dangerous
flattering, frightening

enthralling, enchanting
honest, obscene

charming, careless
both selfish and kind

unwanted, welcomed
familiar, unknown

the truth
of the matter
is that I don’t know,
either

all I know is that, now,
I try not to look
at the phone

or think about
the calendar

or folded paper napkins,
as strange as that sounds

when my long hair
snags on something,
I hear a shaky voice,
quietly apologizing

something smooth,
soft, and sweet,
was floating above me
comfortable, close
for a moment
of days

Found myself
wanting
the roles
reversed

I want to hover,
and to teach,
ask the questions,
have the power to open
and give the instructions

it’s harder now
to eat my ice cream
in peace

I grab the remote
and hit rewind

I went somewhere else
in my head,
about ten minutes away,
ten thousand miles

if nothing ever comes
of these feverish dreams,
then hopefully the dream
is at least pleased
it was dreamt

the light in the bathroom
is bright
as I get ready for bed

brushing my teeth,
the thought
is still
there

keep moving

crack the little brain / into the dusty bowl / a freeze-dried / packet of soup

crack the little brain
into the dusty bowl⠀

a freeze-dried
packet of soup⠀

that hoping,
in its meager
means, and
mighty thirst⠀

self might
somehow
sustain
its only
own-ness⠀

in a type of
good and forward
trajectory⠀

movement,
a motion,
positive
perpetual,
and politely
theoretical⠀

glimpse
through the
magnifying
glass⠀

death’s suddenly
stopping⠀

in tomorrow’s
tiny
headlines⠀

fine print
promises,
blinding
bland bankers,
who barter
for nothing
and trade
in excuses⠀

it covers nil,
this clause of
exclusion
and escape⠀

haughty,
the strange joy
of tomorrow
and its bright trumpeters
of celebration⠀

jump the rifle
and leap over
the lead
if you can⠀

little can
of wormy worms
you’ve yet to meet
the requirements,
terms⠀

terrible
and tall
as they are⠀

still,
slurp some
desperate necessities
from the
ever-thinning spoon,
and seek solace
in that spice
of quiet space⠀

the train is
pulling in;
tickets all
collected⠀

well-accustomed
each accounted for
nary a crumb
tumbles
down the lengthy table
and past
the waiting
tongue⠀

you’ll see, soon
the self
and salty,
sundry wonders
of possibly pausing
for pondering⠀

beneath the orange,
parasol anchor,
fluttering all those⠀

pale butterflies
in its rainbow wake⠀

streaming
the black and white footage
of nature’s naughty newsreels
and turning back again,
to greedily collect
the scraps⠀

paste them all into a
claustrophobic collage⠀

and guessing that
it’s warmth might,
by its cozy closeness
cram itself
into the clown car⠀

get the
lazy getter
going⠀

once
and we will,
again

From the book Time for Nothing – Poetry, Prose, and Song Lyrics by Kevin Trent Boswell, published in 2022.

Time for Nothing-poetry by Kevin Trent Boswell — Time for Nothing – poetry, prose, and song lyrics by Kevin Trent Boswell

avoid the thing

danger
lies
in its
direction⠀

avoid
the peril
by wandering
around⠀

avoid the every
thing⠀

going
around,⠀

wandering

From the book in the current by Kevin Trent Boswell

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