juggernaut

far on down, the road twists and turns

lightning strikes and hellfire burns

through thick smoke in that darkened place

obscuring the troubled lines of your face

amidst the fear and fading of the light

shells of the dead rise in the night

ruled by Saturn, with poison mind

the blind falling in, behind other blind

war is the way and the order of things

Mars and all those bloody gifts he brings

stumble but once, never to rise

sour wings of death cover your eyes

too great a thing, too great a foe

at the end of your hubris, hell and woe

abundance of darkness, absence of light

swallowed and chewed in eternal night


Copyright 2020

Magus

(Kevin Trent Boswell)

Take a look at my Patreon page at https://www.patreon.com/magus72

I’ll be cross-posting here, what I publicly post, over there. Patrons-only content will be available, over there.

Magus72 on Patreon

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

Conjure Work

antiverse

blogspot

Battle Against the Public

I think what this pandemic was lacking is a song, a tune that the people can hum. Therefore, to fill the current need, I have adapted an old favorite, with new (improved) lyrics.

I present to you, “Battle Against The Public”.

[sung to the tune of the famous song, Battle Hymn of the Republic]

Mine ears have heard the glory of the 

Omniscient, Orange Lord

He is trampling on the facts  

About the PPE we’ve stored

He hath loosed the fateful virus

By the terrible signs, ignored

His untruth is marching on!

(Chorus)

Story, story, tell it to ya!

It ain’t no worse than the flu… duh!

Praise him or he’ll remove ya!

Our Nonsense marching on!

I have seen His message echoed in the

Online, Right-Wing camps,

They have builded Him an altar 

Where truth‘s secured with iron clamps;

See through His dimwit message 

By the light of Logic’s lamps

His toupée is marching on!

(Chorus)

Friends, who you thought really knew ya!

Tell you it’s a hoax, come to screw ya!

Sit and wait at home, like Buddha!

His Orange is marching on!

I have read a fiery gospel, writ 

In CAPS of angry steel:

“Those who deal with My opponents,

Get respirators that might heal”

Let the Orange Nero, play the fiddle 

Let Americans all kneel

Trump is God and nothing’s wrong!

(Chorus)

Derogatory, press is unfair to ya!

Common sense has got the blues-a!

From Miami and NY to Chattanooga!

The virus marches on!

He has sounded forth the trumpet 

By Easter, we will have it beat;

Well, never mind… but admit, 

That the idea was pretty neat!

Doctors say… he’s a mo-ron!

(Chorus)

Gory, the doctors all conclude-a!

Fateful end, you’ll come to-a!

On breath machine, you’ll turn blue-a!

The buck He’s passing on!

In reports that came from China, 

South Korea, Italy 

The Donald was duly warned 

Of illness, born across the sea,

With mighty golf club in his hand, 

He said “Let’s wait and see”

As He lied to make men wealthy,

Let us try to make men see,

While the President blathers on!

(Chorus)

Glory, brave souls who blew the!

Whistle, sorry no supplies get to ya!

Your on your own, He never knew ya!

Our health care, shat upon!


Copyright 2020

Kevin Trent Boswell


The new book is out now, on Amazon:

Chaos Comes Apart


Take a look at my Patreon page at https://www.patreon.com/magus72

I’ll be cross-posting here, what I publicly post, over there. Patrons-only content will be available, over there.

Patreon

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

antiverse

blogspot

Conjure Work

Idol

One may, at any slapdash time

With little more than wink and nod

With no sense, reason, structure, rhyme

Of any chosen thing, make a god


Copyright 2020

Kevin Trent Boswell


The new book is out now, on Amazon:

Chaos Comes Apart


Take a look at my Patreon page at https://www.patreon.com/magus72

I’ll be cross-posting here, what I publicly post, over there. Patrons-only content will be available, over there.

Patreon

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

antiverse

blogspot

Conjure Work


I AM; SHE AM; WE AM

I am Love

And the power of the Sword

I am the softly spoken Word

She, receiver of the fruit

Speaks of Nothing, yet all,

Has she heard


I am the Way,

          the Truth and 

          the bringer of Light

I am not the Lamb

I am, instead, 

The stillness of Night 

I am the lover 

I bear the yoke of Strength

My children shall draw in, behind

I am of Her,

At any length

She shall be strong in her mind

I shall guide when I may,

Gently to say,

Draw towards the paths of 

Light, Truth

I will embrace her,

She, the secret practitioner,

Falling in the spiral

Of joyous youth

She is Love  

And the power of Earth


Copyright 2020

Magus

(Kevin Trent Boswell)

Take a look at my Patreon page at https://www.patreon.com/magus72

I’ll be cross-posting here, what I publicly post, over there. Patrons-only content will be available, over there.

Patreon

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

antiverse

blogspot

Conjure Work

zipper head

zipper head,

open your tender teeth

reveal yourself 

in all 

of all 

that 

you are

clench

the mail

betwixt your steel jaws

deliver the cypher 

into waiting hands

so many crude 

assumptions 

of what you might 

or maybe 

may be

you can come into the arms of 

safe haven,

you are the arms of safe haven 

you are anything but 

safe

haven

let the carpet unroll

before your feet

of marbled steel 

kicking rusty sparks of lightning 

from the concrete

bouncing light 

and quarters 

into heaven’s gutters

zipper head,

stay where the rumbles occur 

keep your head high and

out of the trenches

your worn, dusty boots,

dug deep into the stirrups 

of a bipolar bull, 

thrashing one…

torpid another 

through the shiftiest gears,

our protagonist prevails

walk those high wire nights

of cappuccino hallelujah

scratch the blackboard dust

swing at that other head,

climbed into a chasm of dark

make every new 

adoption of nomenclature 

the donning of your sacred title 

a wreathe of laurel highlights 

lay upon your cornflower brow

a teeming of light in your sepia, 

seal eyes

pontificate of sarsaparilla calculus 

you observer of courses 

determiner of courses

forgetter of courses

let all courses be 

subject to your power

and sway

a kingdom which stretches past

all imagination or illumination

let them conduct themselves rightly,

for knowledge of your presence 

they query quick but quiet,

twirling stick in coffee and 

mad scraps of leaky pen napkin notes

and the subtle escapes of breath

from your pulpit

convert them, each 

and all 

to your church

of the considerate virgin

let your christ gnosis

hail the multitudes 

of bovine slitherers 

each now armed 

with impressive equations of 

equanimity, poise

because your scepter

hath provisioned the unwashed

with its manna

lay your miracle on the 

blister of impatience 

and lameness walks now,

with living memorial of 

lazarus sensibilities

oh but could we only attain

unto thee,

hail, most mighty

of the cousins

and czar of all the wanderers of 

the minotaur’s labyrinth 

we invite you to sit with us 

for tea and do tarry

tell us the tales of 

your turns

we are swollen now, 

swallowed and all 

fallen into silence, 

as we wait upon our excitable smiles

for your symposium

of next-ness

zipper head,

fair friend of the white and gray…

let it begin

we are ready


Copyright 2020

Magus

(Kevin Trent Boswell)

Take a look at my Patreon page at https://www.patreon.com/magus72

I’ll be cross-posting here, what I publicly post, over there. Patrons-only content will be available, over there.

Patreon

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

antiverse

blogspot

Conjure Work

rain

i can feel the rain coming,

in my spirit


like the old man

in the rocking chair

on his front porch,

i feel it in every bone,

every trick limb and

aching joint


a sweeping sense of despair,

as my head passes through a

deluge

something similar to

a drive through car wash,

only… less convenient

a team of pressurized fire hoses

and huge, comic pom poms,

thwacking me

right in my

frontal cortex

as the weather makes its approach,

a sweeping sense of despair,

as the weather makes its

slow, arrogant approach

i know its imminent arrival,

often hours beforehand…

before the first cloud

rears its muddy black,

disapproving face


my bones crack and my hopes

sag

nothing fazes

the stupor,

a dark, somnolent plague

of inefficient sleep,

brought on by

a simple change of

barometric pressure…

a slight swing of

humidity;


a little water.


a little water can

drown

my

w

o

r

l

d

never approaching

the front page,

ranking only

section c in the newspaper

the c section

opens my skull

and dumps that precious

baby brain on the

cold, tile floor

kicking it into the corner,

near the waste can


those morons at the paper

ought to recognize

that murder is more of a

front page deal

they view it as

a little spill on the carpet,

it’s only water…

don’t cry…

i won’t cry.


but i will sleep;

i am drugged

and stuffed into a canvas bag

by this natural sedative;

carted off to the ocean

of inactivity

and dumped in,

left for dead

with a note,

pinned to my scalp:


“you will submit to my dominance.

you will curl up

in a soggy, little ball

and wait

for me to pass”


i have survived, seemingly

intolerable fires of the spirit,

unquenchable flames of the heart

earth scorching plumes of fire,

setting daily life alight

i’ve dealt with dozens of

major catastrophes,

not to mention hundreds of

tiny conflagrations,

the little fires that need putting out

only to be doused

and completely


extinguished


by a little water


Copyright 2020

Magus

(Kevin Trent Boswell)

I am getting back on to my Patreon page at https://www.patreon.com/magus72

I’ll be cross-posting here, what I publicly post, over there. But other, patrons-only content will be available to patrons, there.

Patreon

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

antiverse

blogspot

Conjure Work