May the eye of her needle
Be passed through by the camel
My beast is ready
And eager to ride
May the comfort of her robes
Cover my animal
The temple of her refuge
Is warm inside
May I sail my vessel
Into her power
And not be tossed
By her storm
May I know the nectar
Of her flower
And be one with the flower
I will be the thorn
Copyright 2019
Magus
(Kevin Trent Boswell)
Razor, Bramble, Thorn Child
You shall not slow me
to your 2/4 beat of destruction
I shall hurdle high over you,
Your highness, queen of disappointment
I shall prevail, in the
New dawn form of a creature,
who changes & morphs
into the red stream of power,
flowing through the mountains of
never-ness & nought
The river that flows upstream and
winds through the land of the impossible,
to where the globe of knowledge
floats in a glass of contentment
I shall prevail,
I will sail through the hate and
see the blessed sunrise
that you have sought to suppress
Copyright 2019
Magus
(Kevin Trent Boswell)
Nameless, black
Void and choice-less
Surrendered to night,
Full of dark
Wanting nothing,
Now all is empty
Free to take up any chain
Any desire that one might wish for
No desire, no restriction
No thirst for servitude
There is only the vexing slumber,
Hunger for the fat of a new kill
Is somehow become as a stranger
Wandering, wanton hex
A nubile delving into psionic prisms
Load the chamber
With hollow shells of the dead
Projected visions of delirium
Angelic chasms
Frightful clamoring in the cranium
Call back the dogs
And let them sleep,
For the dawn will soon enough
Overtake their prey
That tender light, shredding matter
Rending garment and flesh
Quite succinctly
No need of drummers
To time the pulse of this tune
The rhythm of it,
A vacillating pendulum,
Lo, it is even without the ability
To stray from its precision
The striker upon the cylinder
Is the pointing, bony finger of
The hand of death herself
The hammer that clangs the bell
Is the Mother of Night, incarnate
The femurs of a thousand heros
Beating against the tanned hides
Of the children of the same
Her crooked digit,
A culminating of perpetual cycle…
Stick meets skin, head warps and
Sound emanates through eternity,
Stick meets skin, head warps and
Sound emanates through eternity,
Stick meets skin, head warps and
Sound emanates through eternity,
A beat all too well pounded into the
Collective memory,
Burned into a hive mind,
Fallen into cerebral pits of
“Never before”,
We have at last, found the true past
It is even more horrid and shameful
Than we feared
It is full of monsters,
It is full of us
© 2019 Kevin Trent Boswell, Magus
https://kevintrentboswell.wordpress.com
https://www.patreon.com/magus72
he was speaking vodka,
a language that I all-too-well
understood
as I sat on the edge of his bed,
I handed him the joint
that I had just finished
carefully rolling
he lit it and taking a small toke,
he became suddenly
and uncharacteristically
serious
“You do know that I’m not life, right?”
it must have been obvious that I had no clue
how to answer that
and so he continued…
“When I was just a little boy,
your grandpa (and mine) told me… he said,
‘Son, you’ll pull time
before you hit twenty’
At nineteen, I did six months”
before he could say another word,
several drunk people filed into the room
and the party took over,
as if the writer of this dark, comedy of errors
had carefully placed it
into the script, for dramatic effect
about fifteen years later,
I stood in the yard
with my father,
one morning
we burned a mattress
in the yard
a mattress with a peculiar red stain
on the top end of it,
right about where a man
would lay his head down
to sleep
smoke climbed through the
bare tree branches,
coating the limbs,
blackening the sun,
giving twisted,
new meaning
to the wind
with each searing crackle,
each hot, little iron that launched out
from the flame,
the notion was solidified…
that you would not
be with us again
that red stain has been
forever removed,
taken off and away from
the bad blend of cotton
and synthetic fiber,
its ugly, lack of aesthetic,
removed from the eye
we have instead,
embroidered you,
into the heart
in gold-letter,
on satin
a little redirection,
a simple trick of the firelight
and of the mind
a touch of pre-approved
manipulation,
vocabulary and memory,
now twisted to suit ourselves
with semblances of sanity
and yourself, in a new suit…
one to bring you
over the threshold of the
next beginning,
in a dapper style
we have gathered many flowers
you were one,
and we gather more
still, we do so wish
that you were not so still
we seem to be so much
more careful now,
with our words
we never had to
monitor our tongues, before…
we counted on you,
to always say something deliciously profane,
hysterical, sublime…
something far more terrible
than we would ever manage (or dare)
to bring forth from our fearful mouths
you said it all for us,
being our favorite devil,
you spared no words,
knowing full well, that your time
was short
now, it has fallen serious and sullen
and ash settles on us,
stealing the still-warm seat
of smiles
we do our best
to preserve the integrity
of your memory
with all your words,
so clumsily wrong,
so horribly right
your faults fill volumes,
all of these now consumed by fire
and forgetfulness
we will not miss them
we are in fact,
glad to be free of these,
free from the weight of your awful acuity
your condemnation of this world,
was felt always, hot upon our necks,
virtually indecipherable
from the indiscriminate joy
that your voice poured out
over our wanting brains
we will not miss the anarchy of your actions,
nor your allegiance to an autocratic indifference
but beneath the
intolerable heavy,
knowing of nothing else to do…
we dutifully lift up our eyes
to the coming days
where you
are not
—
© 2019 Kevin Trent Boswell
https://www.patreon.com/magus72
https://m.youtube.com/c/MagusBoswell72
https://m.youtube.com/channel/UCm_GmeGcSi4h2zbzC8vypwQ
I know your fears, I know the panic,
I know the stories you tell
I know you never feel good enough
I know your special brand of hell
I’m sorry you never learned to trust
I tried to explain and help you see…
If I claim you as one of my own,
It’s because you’re good enough for me
It’s not enough to respect me
Its not enough to idealize
You must trust in every way
Or the fear will gladly paralyze
Secret loathing of the self
Is hardly what I’d call service
At no point during your training
Were you ever instructed to be nervous
I understand you doubt yourself
You are convinced that you’ll never do
And that’s the only thing that prevents
Your happiness from being true
I’m sorry you never learned to trust
Those feelings are certainly rough
But lack of trust in me, doesn’t mean
That I’m not good enough
You would have been fine
More than fine; even happy, too
But you’d rather torture and blame yourself
Than figure out the right thing to do
Stopping short at the finish line
Is more painful than never beginning
Raking yourself over the coals of loss,
When you could so easily be winning
You might not feel worthy and so you jump
In the opposite direction of fear
Martyrdom and suffering yield nothing,
Although you force us to watch… and hear
In that deep chest of memories
You have simple tools that you can use
To ease the burden and the stress,
To help determine the next step to choose
A thousand times you can learn the game
A thousand times, start the race
Eventually you’ll have had more than enough
But those fears, you’ll still have to face
Unless of course, in the meantime
You manage to break that thing called you
We all stand back and helplessly pray;
Because there’s nothing else we can do
The power to ask, the decision to heal
It all rests solidly in your hands
Choose the work or choose easy escape
But don’t ever say that no one understands
Choose the path of sacrifice and work
Or choose the path of pleasure and strife
But there’s more love flowing over you, child
Than many know in their whole life
Ask for help and pick your team
Having chosen, never wander or doubt
An hour’s pleasure will distract you, yes
But it never points the way out
Like I said before and will again,
It’s no harder for you, than for them
You are more than capable of saving yourself
Or you may, yourself, condemn
—Pink Floyd, Outside The Wall, from the album, The Wall
https://www.patreon.com/magus72
https://m.youtube.com/c/MagusBoswell72
https://m.youtube.com/channel/UCm_GmeGcSi4h2zbzC8vypwQ
Even in the littlest things, you lie
Promises of civil courtesies so small,
To fulfill them, one barely need try
Even in the littlest things, you lie
So many pieces to your hate
Some are hidden, some stand tall
None create joy, only weight
So many pieces to your hate
Your darkness is beyond blinding
Wondering if there’s any light at all
Mislabeling what I was finding
Your darkness is beyond blinding
A forgery, nearly perfect, passing
Mask chipped, the disguise did fall
Recidivist, apology count surpassing
A forgery, nearly perfect, passing
But hey, at least you got to try it
Labeled thing, you renamed it all
No one ever insisted you buy it
But hey, at least you got to try it
And now, we all feel less than good
Endless, useless, talking, small
Nothing gained, nothing goes as it should,
And now, we all feel less than good
https://kevintrentboswell.wordpress.com
https://www.patreon.com/magus72
https://m.youtube.com/c/MagusBoswell72
https://m.youtube.com/channel/UCm_GmeGcSi4h2zbzC8vypwQ
© 2019 Kevin Trent Boswell
https://kevintrentboswell.wordpress.com
https://www.patreon.com/magus72
https://m.youtube.com/c/MagusBoswell72
https://m.youtube.com/channel/UCm_GmeGcSi4h2zbzC8vypwQ
All is lost
Hope abandoned in the pines
None dwell here
But angry ghosts
Cursed and crossed
Failed to read between the lines
Where written was fear,
With all its morbid hosts
Treasure spilled
And scattered upon the earth
Freely taken at whim
By anyone that might
Pleasure killed
Stripped of all its worth
Coffers open to skim
Reputation subject to slight
© 2019 Kevin Trent Boswell
https://www.patreon.com/magus72
https://m.youtube.com/c/MagusBoswell72
https://m.youtube.com/channel/UCm_GmeGcSi4h2zbzC8vypwQ
I’ve never loved one
Who would love me back
And I’ve never loved one
Who would care
When I reach out
In joy or in fright
There’s never anyone there
You may see what you want
And have what you don’t
And look, but don’t ever touch
And all is yours for the asking, my child
But love is a little too much
Copyright 2018 Magus
In my dedication to lifting you higher,
I am willing to hold you down,
Until you drop all the words of the liar
And your senses come back around
If you think, you will easily recall…
In fairness, I told you from day one
That of you, I would have all
Or else I would settle for none
In blindness I will take your beauty
In deafness, accept your word
When you give completely, as is your duty
Only then will it be seen and heard
Seeds have been planted in soil, indeed
Despite resistance, they will take root
I will wait for the pruning of the weed
The removal of what does not suit
Once the grapes spring from the vine
In the garden you will find me
Taking the sweet fruit that is mine
As it ever was supposed to be
Copyright 2018
On the riverbanks of India
The men wade among crocodiles
For fish
In the jungles of Indonesia
The men walk among tigers
For wood
In the backs of our western minds
Among the terror files
We wish
These monsters
Would disappear
For good
Oh, to be alive and in Indonesia
By Kevin Trent Boswell (Magus)
Copyright 2018
On my birthday, June 21, 2018
For all of you
—
glow bright,
torch flame ball
squeezes
through the cracks
in the wall
of the circled garden,
zapping flowers and faces
with light and warmth
illuminating orb climbs atop
the back of a crab carriage
and takes up its reigns
ten miles down the trail
then ten more and
a final ten days, still
of all the gifts
possible to call satisfying,
none is more so
than having a handful of faces
you know and welcome
into your eyes
arms about you,
a band of those who can be counted as your people
and you
as one of their own
in this, my mem-heh day,
I dig into my pockets
and find only useless
bits of nothing,
ridiculous things like gold
and documents of ownership,
certificates of overpriced
possessions,
keys to things,
things that are kept
locked away
for fear of their loss…
I instead grab for paper and pen and offer you instead,
something truly useful
a small scrap of peace
like the Christ split the
loaves and fishes,
I will break this bread of joy
with all of you,
we will divide it between us
until there is no more left
with each disappearing morsel,
may you, like Osiris,
be reconstructed,
made whole
enjoy your slice of cake
it was never mine, anyway;
nothing ever was
the things I called my own
were spells, illusions,
glamours and self-deceptions
the only thing real is that
which I give to you
may it sustain your hearts
through lonely periods
may it entertain you
during dullness
may it prevent you
from doing stupid things
when you are angry
or afraid
may it protect you
from the attacks of others,
may it protect you
from the awful attacks
that you launch
upon yourself
may it make you laugh
when you’re down
and seemingly out
may it be a cornerstone for you,
as you succeed
and build your new palaces
in the sun
take this and share
like a plant cutting,
spread it
like wildfire,
let it swallow the whole
branding genuine smiles
on the faces of all you people,
you children
of birth and growth,
decline and
the final surrender to sleep
let this stupid,
silly smile disease
infect you,
let the epidemic of laughter
sweep
over the land
taking you utterly
and joyfully
by surprise
Two or three enemies conspiring in unison,
However petty or untrue their cause
Can turn an army of friends against you,
As if it never was
A couple of soured enemies,
In coveting something you possessed
Banded together for your ruin
But never settled their own unrest
Child A, when refused a toy
That clearly belonged to Child B
Child A smashed it, in a rage, and turned
His eye to the toys of Child C
As many toys as he can jealously take
Each stolen, broken or thrown
Each proves only how sad he is
For never having toys of his own
—
Bait fish…
bait fish
quick, nervous movements
where to turn?
swim w/ the school,
swim by the rule
swim for yourself,
swim alone
catch 22
still the sponge lung,
pumps an essential fear
evolutionary prerequisites
there in the shallows
the predator swallows
“thanks to our selfless brothers
in the sacrificial, outer circle”
For more, see…
for music:
and for more poetry:
Antiverse and
oh, little dog of pity,
i have been of once as thee
cast aside, as tied to a tree
i frown on you not in spite,
nor in mercy, for to
set you free would be right
but i will not unbind you and you will not run,
even if i did, you are too dumb
you would but pant and froth and bounce
and for your master, trot patiently about
for she who scooped you up as a puppy,
only a tiny puff of cuteness fluffy
i know too well of your dilemma
i know of it, yes… am forced to remember
how it happened that once i was cute…
yet somehow, i no longer fit the suit
of childhood’s clothing and abandoned toys;
outgrew the mold of being a boy
as favored youth slips away from thee
you, no fault of your own, lose your novelty
i have been where you were, in her bed at night
i have been where you are now, seen as a plight
i have felt sweet caresses on christmas morn
i have slept in hunger amongst bristles and thorns
i too, was once fed by her hands
i too, lost my charm, upon becoming a man
a friend told me once, in a moment of truth,
that the larger things instinctively protect the youth
but small things grow up, as they always must
and fear compels them to crush them to dust
painfully, these things i have come to understand
it is not by criminality that i have become a man
but instead, it is my fortune and honor indeed
for now, of her milk, i have no need
but you, i will pity forever after
for you do not realize the cruelty of your master
and so, if i loosed you and set you free,
you would only wait for your master, beside the tree
you have grown in your body but not in your head;
you will not run away, though you will not be fed
or given water, or love, or be cared for again
as this is the way of grown dogs and men
By Magus
copyright 2018
* Author’s note: The poem is not an actual account of animal abuse but rather a metaphor about toxic relationships. The dog in the picture is Stacie and she’s spoiled rotten, so don’t feel bad for her 😉
Of course it hurts
No matter…
You will continue
Is a mountain
A grading slope
Or a colossal venue?
There is no escape…
Nor can you pretend to
Simply reach inside
Find it in you
Go on your way
By Magus
copyright 2018
soundcloud.com/kevin-trent-boswell/looking-for-a-way
If you like The Beatles, Pink Floyd, Jane’s Addiction, Jimi Hendrix or Jethro Tull, you might like
Magus & The Plastic InfinityHear more and get some free .mp3 songs at: The Plastic Infinity
He concluded then,
After seeing the starry night
Unfold –
Cluing in
On times of old
– And expelling smoke
That all the universe
Dwelled within himself
(Perception is ALL)
At least until,
The hammock broke and
He took a fall
Suddenly, he felt
VERY small;
Became aware
Of what he did not know
So, he retreated
To the house
To watch
The late show
——–
Written by Magus of Conjure Work
Copyright 2018
who do i think i am?
you ask
why,
i am joe schmoe,
don’tcha know?
i am he who plays
by the rules;
the servant of fools
i am the scrounger
of pocket change
i am he
who will exchange
himself
for gain
you know my name.
yours is the same.
By Magus (Kevin Trent Boswell)
copyright 2018
For music, see:
For more poetry:
Antiverse and
in the days of short pencils
and long papers
an earned renunciation of earlier
struggles
supernatural glimpse of a
well cooked tomorrow,
lying on the plate
beside the knife of
decision
bringing in the trot lines;
wrestling with those large, fat fish,
ready for the pan
and the flame
no more kung-fu,
arduous battle with
quadratic equations
instead, glancing at a
moldy clock,
I see that the
little hand is on armistice
and the big hand is on
congratulations
As Time Goes By
Performance by Kevin Trent Boswell. Written by Herman Hupfeld. Arrangement by Dave Frackenpohl.
The 1940 jazz standard written by Nancy Hamilton, music by Morgan Lewis.
Here performed by Magus (Kevin Trent Boswell) as a chord-melody, instrumental guitar solo. It’s not my own arrangement, just one I picked up from a book of jazz standards. Enjoy.
See more at:
a beautiful trap
enveloping prey
with your
impossibilities;
ideas…
a subtle swarm
of lovely fireflies
invades
the lungs,
precipitating
an expensive sleep
and all this
is just your way
of saying
hello
also see:
a brief glimpse of something sort of like poetry… but not entirely… by Kevin Trent Boswell
The bean came undone
The waters did run
And runners so fast
Cannot be out run
It worked out in the wash
And came out in the rinse
And no one’s thought
About it since
by Kevin Trent Boswell, aka Magus
Find out more at these spots on the wonderwebs:
goodbye to long loved lover…
of mind
of body
of soul comfort
a simple adieu will never do
i had to learn of your blues
before i could come to our parting
with my new lack luster ontology
i will reflect
on my past respect
for you
and what you meant to me
we danced on the threads of being
auriferous sight,
through the succulent sight
of your superior seeing
last night i dreamed of monsters
but while i was awake
my mind was subservient
to your subsequent safety;
many daydreams did you bring me
in baskets of gold weaving
but now, my mind troubles
at the thought of retrieving you
and your sorely, of late,
soft company…
which has become sharp
and obtrusive
these days, since the
course of my ways
has drifted
away from you,
my former confidant
i have betrayed you
in some sense,
since i have outgrown you,
i now must disown you,
no longer a jewel
but a weight
no longer the earthy giver
of the delighted light of life,
my freedom of a wife,
full of discourse
and ideas
i will send word of your purpose
through my travels,
the undertakings of my soul
seen hereafter without you
i will miss you sorely,
though i may tolerate you
no more
by (Magus) (Kevin Trent Boswell)
More at:
Question not, nor wonder why
Twist not knots in thy mind
Much is mystery beneath the sky
Meant not to know whilst in thy prime
Understanding lies not in fruit unripe
Sweetest fruit is aged and cooked
Pull your freedom from nature’s pipe
There lies the knowledge you’ve overlooked
by Magus (Kevin Trent Boswell)
Fertile Green May Not Be Overcome
You shall never diminish,
If no more so than in my mind
You have succeeded thus far, fair lady
In clearing the dust from my table
To replace that foul antiquity
With fresh linens and the lovely flowers of
Your feminine presence
Perhaps now, may I prove myself worthy
To sit here and dine, beneath the light
Of your intoxicating grace
Fertile green may not be overcome
No lasting path shall be cut
Through the forest of your youth
The increasing resilience of your spirit
Will cause you to flourish and grow wild,
Beyond the dreams of men and dogs
Never pausing to contemplate
The futile mutterings
Of half-hearted fools
Fertile green may not be overcome
By Kevin Trent Boswell, ©️ 2018
