Pariah

I’ve always been
Outside the norm

I never quite fit in
Never fit neatly enough
Into any of the boxes

Despite being a straight, white male
Somehow, I always still manage
To be the different one
In every crowd

I believe in science
But I’m also an occultist

I’m entirely too rational and skeptical
For a great many in the occult community

I hold disdain for those who think that
White light is the solution for every problem,
That all things are possible through magick
And that crystals, sage and essential oils
Will cure absolutely anything and everything

I’m what is known as a gray magician,
Equally comfortable with
Angels and demons
Blessings and curses

But I’ve always been
A little too “light and goodness” for some
And a little too “dark and scary” for others

My acceptance of atheists,
As well as agnostics and Satanists
Gets me odd looks from the
Holier-than-thou clubs

And my complete lack of
Any bitter hatred of Christianity
Makes the Left Hand Path people
Somewhat suspicious of me

But the fact that I believe
Spells can cause change
And that it’s possible to
Communicate with unseen entities

This gets me automatically pigeonholed
By anyone in the scientific community
As either a lunatic or a charlatan
Or both

I’m too Ceremonial for the Witchcraft crowd,
Too witchy for the Hoodoo crowd,
Too Hoodoo for the Ceremonial crowd
And so on and so forth, ad-infinitum, ad-nauseam

I have kinks that get me labeled
As a pervert, by many

But I usually found that
I was something of a disappointment
To a lot of the kinky people I met
Because I wasn’t a submissive male
Or because I wasn’t bisexual
Or because I wasn’t whatever else
They were hoping that I would have been

Of course, they’re always happy that I am
Open and accepting and loving
Of all orientations, gender-identification, etc
But I’m still a straight, white male
Which is, to many of them,
Still sort of boring, sort of a letdown
And I get that, I really do
It’s OK, I’m not offended by it

I play chess and I listen to classical music
I both listen to and play jazz
So, I’m a bit too “uppity”
For many rock-and-rollers

But I’m only a decent chess player
And a mediocre jazz guitarist
So, I don’t get to sit with the really cool kids
At any of those tables

I also listen to punk, speed metal,
Gangster rap, blues, rock, pop
As well as dozens of other genres
And somehow, it’s still a surprise
When someone else likes the same bands as me
I’ve never really figured that part out,
Seems like there’d be more commonality
But there you have it

I write poetry and hell…
Everyone hates that

But even among the poets,
I don’t stick with any one, single genre
So, none of them really gets me, either

When I branch out into things like horror poetry,
That freaks a lot of people way the hell out

“What the fuck is wrong with that guy?!”

Sure, they love Stephen King
They don’t bat an eye at The Walking Dead
Or movies like Hellraiser or Saw
But I write one little, horror poem
About cannibalism and suddenly
I’m weird

OK, so it was more than just one

I play guitar, sing and write songs
But my style is all over the map
So it’s just too this or that for
Almost everyone

I was even told as much, by a friend,
A guy who had helped a pop artist,
A one-hit-wonder, to get a gold record
Yeah, I was close friends with a record producer

It didn’t help me one bit

He said “You’re a very good singer
And you’re a good guitarist but…

“People want catchy songs”

“And they want to know
Exactly what they’re going to hear
When they come to a show.
You are all over the place.
I had no idea what you’d play next.
Pick one style and stick with it.”

“You can be a genius, later.”

That wasn’t good enough for me
I always wanted to do all of it

I wanted to do all of it, now

I’d play rock, blues, folk, funk, metal,
Country, pop, weird, avant-garde stuff
And psychedelia

However, most people seem to be more
Chocolate or vanilla or strawberry
But not all of the above

So, somewhere along the way,
I’d lose the crowd because I played a song
That was just toosomething
For their tastes

I don’t play or follow sports
So, there went any conversation
With three-fourths of the
Male population, right there

I’m accepting of all religions
But I don’t belong to any
So, I don’t have any of the neat, lapel buttons
To get me into those meetings

I hate bullies
So, I never get invited to the hate crimes
Instead, I’m the idiot who will
Stand with the guy who is outnumbered,
Just because he’s outnumbered

But I think everyone is fair game
When it comes to rude jokes
Especially me
Because, if you can’t laugh at me
Then, who the hell can you laugh at?

But I sort of suck at political correctness
So, I piss off most of the woke crowd

It’s OK, the feeling is mutual

I don’t get into cosplay or anime
I’m not a Star Trek guy, though I like the show
I don’t collect or read comics or manga
I don’t keep up with most television

I advocate healthy eating but I’m not vegan

I can dance but don’t really like to
I can cook but don’t really like to
I can small talk but don’t really like to

I only comment on politics
When it looks like my country
Is about to shift into fascism;
I’ve talked way too much about politics
In the last four years

I’m no fan of hatred
So, I don’t get to sit with any of
Those guys in the white sheets
Or the black boots, bald heads and suspenders

But I’m a little too strange of a white guy
For most minorities to feel
Totally at ease around me

It’s probably safer to have
“Normal” white friends
And I actually get that;
I don’t take any offense to it

I’m not fluent in any other languages,
Despite having taken both French and Spanish
So, I don’t get to play interpreter for anyone

I think the climate crisis is way more severe
Than nine out of ten people do
Want to clear out a room fast?
Bring that up and watch them all scurry

I’m not a cat person
So, that rules out about three-fourths
Of the female population, right there

But I can always talk about dogs
With other dog lovers
And there’s a saving grace, for certain

I’m into martial arts and that’s too violent
For many people
But I’m not a black belt in anything I studied
So, I’m not important enough to listen to
In those groups
And even the style I’m most into,
Jeet Kune Do, is controversial,
Because it’s extremely eclectic
And it thumbs its nose at any type of
Tradition, purely for the sake of tradition
So, that pisses off a lot of people
Who practice traditional styles

I’m not a Right-Wing nut job but I support
The second amendment and I own guns
So, I just ostracized myself from
Both the Right and the Left,
Right there

I don’t surf or skate or snow ski
I’m not a connoisseur of fine wines
Or fine cuisine
I don’t read anything on best-seller book lists

I’ve always been either
Lower class or lower, middle class
So, I can’t get into any of the swank affairs

But I’m a bit too odd to get invited to
Most of the cool kids’ parties

It doesn’t really help that
I don’t smoke weed and I don’t usually drink
The lack of these habits raises many eyebrows

I don’t fit hand-in-hand with most, other people

Even my closet friends,
Dear, dear, beloved friends
Would readily admit:

“Yes, he’s an odd one.
Oh, we love him.
We just don’t claim to really
Understand him.

We think it’s probably quite enough
To just love him
And let it go at that.”

And with that statement, I’d completely agree

I’m perfectly content to be
The black sheep, the odd man out
The different one

But all this lack of fitting in
Has helped me, in one, very clear way

It has compelled me to develop
A desperately needed survival skill
And that is

Good listening

Because I learned early on
That if I was going to last
More than ten minutes
In any conversation,
In any room,
Anywhere

I did much better if I
Kept my rather strange opinions,
Beliefs and attitudes
To myself

But I did even better, still

When I could repeat back the opinions,
Beliefs and attitudes that someone else
Had just expressed to me

Everyone appreciates being
Truly heard

Not everyone needs to be agreed with
It isn’t even everyone who
Needs to be appreciated

But everyone
Likes to know that you were
Actually listening

And if they say anything at all
About music, martial arts, chess, poetry
Or anything else I’m interested in
Well, I might have just bought myself
Ten more minutes of friendly conversation

And when all else fails,
When I’m talking to someone and I can’t find
Any common ground… at all

I can always punt
I default to the saving grace of
Dogs

But if it becomes clear
That they don’t like dogs…

Well, then it’s clearly just time to leave


©2021 Kevin Trent Boswell


Photo by Arianna Jadé

Magus72 on Patreon

There Are No Words

There are no words; none suffice,
None that may cover or explain
None that express the loss of a love
Or help to heal the pain

Anything that we might say,
Anything we try to do,
It all falls short, next to the grief,
And only the grief shows through

When someone has lost someone,
A lover, family, pet, or friend,
Not single word we can speak
That will put them on the mend

No expression of condolence helps;
Our feeble efforts don’t stop the pain
The only thing that’s somehow worse
Is if we say nothing at all

In times of loss and grief, we are
Of little use to those we hold dear
It’s best that we assume as much
And say only, “I am here”

Hope not that your speech is helpful;
Know that we hold no such power
Say only “I am here with you,
In this, your darkest hour.”

The most we might do for a friend
Who is suffering from a broken heart
Is to demonstrate respect by saying,
“I don’t even know where to start”

Offer humility and say, “I can only
Imagine the terrible weight of your pain
I can do nothing but be here for you,
And for you, here, I will remain”


©2021 Kevin Trent Boswell

Home At Last

Need something happy, bright, optimistic and hopeful? Well, I got somethin’ for ya.

If you’ve watched more than a couple of my music videos, then you’ve probably already figured out that I’m not exactly the go-to guy for upbeat, happy, cheerful stuff. No, I tend to gravitate towards a gritty type of realism that often steers drunkenly over the white line, into the oncoming traffic of blatant nihilism.

But I do have my occasional moments of peace, love, joy, the ultimate beauty of life and the universe… you know, all that happy, sappy shit. This is one of them.

So, get it while it’s hot, because I don’t usually serve this particular, gourmet dish in my joint. My greasy spoon typically sells cheeseburgers and beer, with a side of kick in the groin.


From the album Flagship by Trent Boswell. Full album and individual songs are available for streaming and/or purchase, at iTunes, Amazon Music, Spotify and other music services.


Trent Boswell – guitar, vocals

Words and music by Trent Boswell


Lyrics

Home At Last

Butterfly squadron, airborne children
Sweet love and flowers, rain from above
Tadpole navies trade guns for babies
There ain’t no death here, no lies, only love

I’m in the fields of forgiveness,
To the left of the sea
Towering castle awareness,
Summoning me

Butterfly squadron, airborne children
Sweet love and flowers, rain from above
Tadpole navies trade guns for babies
There ain’t no death here, no lies, only love

World is awoken; all are attending
With apologies spoken,
All wounds are now mending
High in the sky, we can see
What we’ve strived for…
We’re finally free

I’m in the fields of forgiveness,
To the left of the sea
Towering castle awareness,
Summoning me

Ocean spray wonderful
Freedom to laugh
We’re in the land now
We’re home at last

© 2021 Kevin Trent Boswell


Support the Arts

Support the creation of more music, poetry and madness by Trent Boswell, at:

Magus72 on Patreon

https://Patreon.com/Magus72


Immense Thanks!

Many, many thanks to the following, for the images in the video. You may or may not like the music but if you like the video, the credit for that is all theirs.

I truly appreciate what they’re doing because I wouldn’t be able to make these videos, without their help.

Super Lunar

INNORECORDS PhotoVideos

Pavel Danilyuk

Nomad Nation Videoproduktion

Taryn Elliott

ROMAN ODINTSOV

Ambient_Nature_Atmosphere

Ruvim Miksanskiy

Matthias Groeneveld

Kelly Lacy

Requiem For A Fool

When you hear that I am dead and gone,
Once it’s official and you’ve dried your eye
I’ve only a few very simple requests
With which I do truly hope you’ll comply

Little things, but the first is important,
So much so that I’ll say it over and over
You can pray or not; it doesn’t matter a bit,
But don’t forget to play Crimson and Clover

I don’t need a fancy, expensive coffin
Keep the money; I don’t need a new suit
Incinerate me and spread my ashes
Where trees and flowers will happily root

It matters very little to me whether or not
People say they’re coming or if they arrive
Please don’t allow anyone into my service
That I didn’t care for when I was alive

Unless I loved them ever so dearly,
Show them the door and tell them “Ciao”
I never wanted them around before;
I’ve certainly got no use for them now

Let everyone be happy and have a party
Pouring me a libation might be nice
If you do, do remember I like good tequila
Or bourbon (no Scotch) and Coke on ice

But sincerely, I don’t require any fuss at all
I don’t give a damn; for me, it’s all over
I really don’t care what you do, except…
Original (long version) Crimson and Clover

I could provide you with a whole playlist
Of songs I adored and loved to share,
But attention spans… most people only
Hear themselves; they don’t really care

Long story short, the bullet points are:
Tequila, bourbon, fire and ashes, no box,
Real friends only; not sure how to enforce
(Maybe a secret handshake or knocks?)

But leave me thirsty, in a wooden crate,
And invite my least favorite people over;
It won’t even matter, as long as you
Don’t forget the most essential thing:

Remember to play Crimson and Clover

© 2021 Kevin Trent Boswell


Below is the video for Crimson and Clover, by Tommy James and the Shondells.


VIDEO:

https://youtu.be/XS0niyiKlcw?si=WsldE31Uf43wMRNk

clobber

clobber with slobber

the foaming beast

tumble over rover

not bothered in the least

a bull and a pig

shopped for china one day

and a minefield dig

for archeological play

toppling the workloads,

tumbling down card towers

a brief symposium

of how energy is released

drenched in sweat

and love and tea

a most brutal pet

killing all boredom, sending it away

Copyright 2020 Kevin Trent Boswell

Patreon.com/magus72

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the music album, Flagship

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The Open Mic Series – “none”

Here’s a really neat project that I’m pretty excited about!

I asked some of my friends to make recordings of themselves reading my poems. Quite a few thought it was a great idea and were more than happy to contribute.

The link here is the .mp3 of the first one I’ve chosen to present to you. You can click on it and just listen or right-click and save, if you want to keep it. It’s free!


Recording of “none” by Kevin Trent Boswell


By the way, if you want to help out and support more cool stuff like this, see my Patreon page, Magus72.


I’ll be posting them here, one at a time. I’ve had a lot of fun putting this together and I hope you enjoy listening to them.

The main thing I wanted to achieve here is get a variety of people, reading the pieces… in the way that they hear them.

None of the readers were given any prompts about how to read. A few people preferred to have something assigned to them and so I picked for them. But in most cases, they chose their own pieces to read.

This first poem is called “none” and it’s from my book in the current.

in the current, by  Kevin Trent Boswell

Our guest reader is Xander and he did a great job with it. 


Recording of “none” by Kevin Trent Boswell


I’m posting the text, as well. That way, you can follow along or read it first, then listen or just listen and find out where it takes you… your choice. Enjoy.

none

mandala being nightmare…

nothing being curse…

still we strive for 

something!

she cries 

in her 

elliptical 

orbit

cycle of nothingness 

somethingness

separation 

dance

eros 

chance

death, 

arousal and 

denial

correct, 

of course

the role being 

after all 

seductress

how could one say 

that she was wrong?

how could one argue 

that anything

was ever

wrong?

polarities

cry of response 

no avail

she is 

in heat

hears 

nothing 

of my 

dharma

portions of 

infinity 

etc.

no wrong

only difference

how must one 

proceed in 

seeking

to curse

the void?


Copyright 2020 Kevin Trent Boswell 

from the book, in the current


Support the work at my Patreon page:

https://www.patreon.com/magus72

I cross-post the public works here. Patrons-only content is available, there.

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