Ever Again
Jason Micheal Dunn
Sculptures by Raynor Dunn
Copyright 2014 Jason Micheal Dunn
Poetry:
Poems by Metazoan
Jason and the Golden Thesis
Philosophy for Depressives Against Empirical Vampires
Dirty Pure
Something I Wrote the Other Day
Novels:
Sure Fire
Infinite Day
The Lightning Tree (Coming soon)
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Table of Contents
The Anachronist
Sure Fire
The Lover
Easy Listening Music
Conversions
What Can I Say
Give Us Death
The Cry
Heading Home
Bad Poetry
Sway
Ika
Nga Whetu
Forget Everything
Ever Again
The Anachronist
Out there in the street
Light expires by subtle degrees
Its golden heat depletes
Against that flapping invisible sheet
In spite of metal carts agleam
Their ingenious engine’s bark-like song
The energies held hands and sung
And nothing was wrong
Sure Fire
The boring weave of street concretes the sad extreme
Inside me dully beats a soulful lost entreaty
Behind the big grey bank of cloud a growl of light surrounds
Looking up, so to speak, my heart shook hard to music like a fist
The fist of peace
The Lover
Everything slowed during the crash
Metal feathers spread over laborious seconds their heartless majesty
Blotting out the golden font of the sun
Only a few timeless rays like blinding spokes about the eagles head shone bright
And in the ancient shower of glass you walked through as if through gentle beads
Athena’s sunlight delicately entering a room
Smiling
In all your easy glory
Easy Listening Music
Driven from ground zero in the mental arena
Expecting the landmark on a timescale
A philosophy safe as houses
A white ware of emotions
A sex life for religion
And a dance garden wild with metaphors between friends
Conversions
The red metal universe superabundantly overproduces vehicles of meaning
The eternal factory smelts every structure the human pattern recognizes
But style car-jacks the everyday
And substance hot-wires the norm to supercede the limits
The human pattern eludes arrest
And when civilisation finally wonderfully falls
The wind and the water will again be our culture
And the tree of life will again be our pattern
What can I say?
What can I say?
Here I am
Again
At least there’s pain
Enough to dash
against the glass
Can’t stand my chances
Fuck. Romance is
luck all smashed
My car of destiny
Rear view’s fine
but the road goes nowhere
Think I’ll walk from here
Think I’ll run into my
killing shadow
What do you know?
God I hate you
but I’ll eat you out though
It’s a deep ravine
Hell is getting closer
Throw me at them
Fuck it. I’m not clean
I’m dirty. Burning. Heart-stop
Smiling with you
Uh-oh. What can I say?
Uh-oh. Here I am again
Uh-oh. I’m in love with you
Oh-no
Colour you outside the lines
Pull your hair and take my time
I’m in love with you
You
You
You
Give us death
These hopeless days of fun chasing not at all we rushed
Can’t believe us washed in laughter clean
Man, how we blushed our fearless drowned in sunlight smiling blood
They just didn’t understand how glad we were to cut each other down
Rising strong on updrafts label garnered
Marvel hunted desert crossing eyes through spider conscious webs their seeking cried
“To live to die”
The Cry
Your waves are a welcome return
Riding high on the incalculably described paraboli
Proud of the depths only insofar as you are far above them
Not better than them, nor because of them better
But somehow part of the deep
And free from its sleep
Soaring above the underground in a cloak of feather water
That uneasy crown of warbling sunlight smiling through you
From a sunk marae my sea ravens cry
With switchblades for tails
And pearls for their eyes
Then into the sand they dive
Karangamai they cried
Karangamai
Like chalks screeching against the blackboard inside us all
Charged with lightning in their bellies my thoughts thrashed at each other
Disturbing the grains of the nightmare itself to hope
And wave with underwater firelight goodbye
Heading home
Don’t know how to tell you
Without sounding weird
For the most part I guess
You’ll get it
It’s the moment of expression I want to share
That’s the thing I know is gold
That’s the thing that tells us more
That explains what can’t easily be said
Says little and means the world
Just around the corner
Just the kind of warmer thoughts
That get-by without promises or guarantees
I just want to say I’m going home
With empty accounts of empty accounts
I’m going home to my own
With all forgiven and only love remembered
I’m going home to eat the food I know
And talk smack like only we can
I guess I’m trying to say
Though none too well
Is that I’ll miss you so much
I’ll miss us
But...
Bad poetry
Bad poetry
In this time of weakness
Nothing sucks more
If it had been a time of hardship and strife
It might have mattered a lot more
But for all this depression and fury
Times are real easy
And bad poetry sucks all the same
Sorry about this
Well, not really
I write so little and prefer to draw these days
Poetry sucks that much
Don’t get me wrong
There is great poetry
No doubt
Poetry that cracks with equal measure suffering and triumphant song
As with eternal emotion imbued its human lattice shining gold
Barely contained
/>
Invisible
Sway
The elements hold Sway here. In fists of sand the winds, ostensibly mean-spirited, squall.
Of course, this is no more than the mischievous game nga taniwha play with puckish charm, “Laugh or Cry, Sway or Die!”
Held within the transcendental fastness shaped of irrecusable dunes, the hardy tussock dances its susurrus laughter.
Bertrand Russell, philosopher, defined freedom as a bound variable. Here the music of the coast is bound to be variable. Its humours lift the spirits.
Metal, as fifth element of nature, mined, melted, tempered and oxidised, is the human element of nature, mind, melded, temporal, and oxymoronic. Bending like reeds to the coastal forces, Sway is freed to grow still.
Sway
The elements hold Sway here. In fists of sand the winds, ostensibly mean-spirited, squall.
1. Earth: The forces of nature are in control on the Kaipara coast and Sway is a metaphor for plant life. The tenacity of tussock grass mats the sand with its roots and the unpredictable violence of the wind belies its vital necessity.
Of course, this is no more than the mischievous game nga taniwha play with puckish charm, “Laugh or Cry, Sway or Die!”
2. Fire: Animism imputes the salubrious, or life affirming, aspects of inanimate nature with animate qualities. Benign guardians of nature live in the sand and in the wind. The metaphorical image here makes light of taniwha in order to make such sensibility familiar, one taniwha (the sand) holds the tussock (personified plant life) while the other taniwha (the wind) beats on the tussock. Parallels are drawn between pucks and other pan-like spirits from western animistic beliefs uniting western and Maori ideologies. The mock brutality appeals to our cinematic romance with bravado which implicitly masks fidelity and now unites modernity and tradition. The taunt is the divine’s categorical challenge to any mortal form then, now, or ever.
Held within the transcendental fastness shaped of irrecusable dunes, the hardy tussock dances its susurrus laughter.
3. Water: The philosophical or mathematical truths are a fastness, or fortress, of undeniable reality like bell curves or waves. The dunes protect the beach and shelter flora and fauna inland. The sand, tussock grass, and wind are instrumental in the formation of these dunes. The vitality of the tussock grass is a testament to the ingenuity of nature, so to speak. It is tough and its near silent whispering in the wind is a sure sign that it hardly notices the squally gusts.
Bertrand Russell, philosopher, defined freedom as a bound variable. Here the music of the coast is bound to be variable. Its humours lift the spirits.
4. Air: Parallels are now drawn between philosophy, math, graphs, musical notation, equalizers, and the landscape. The forces of nature are inevitably vivifying, energising,permeating.
Metal, as fifth element of nature, mined, melted, tempered and oxidised, is the human element of nature, mind, melded, temporal, and oxymoronic. Bending like reeds to the coastal forces, Sway is freed to grow still.
5. Metal: Steel comes from the Earth, is heated in an awesome Fire, plunged into frigid Water, and rusted in fresh Air. Metal is the fifth Chinese element in oriental style alchemy. It is man-made. As an artefact of the mind, it represents an amalgam of environment and culture over time which invites the contemplative at heart to ponder the immanent paradox, the ever present mystery of life from non-life and the counterintuitive solutions to the problems posed between them.
Ika
"ika", like any fish, was spawned.
It is the remainder of an evolutionary equation.
Its minimalism adapted from the lean joys of scarcity.
After the changes to fish size limits
for recreational or rather pre-civilized fishermen,
"ika" as icon,
sprung from the depths as the fossil of industry.
ika (noun) fish, marine animal - any creature that swims in fresh or salt water including marine mammals such as whales. maoridictionary.co.nz
Nga Whetu
"Nga Whetu" or "The Stars" is one of a shower of works.
Minimalist, it is a relic of the now,
reifying city soul,
an urban repository for heavenly lights,
an artistic edification of the sparks of life which,
as they say,
came from the stars.
whetu (noun) star, asterisk - sometimes used for other celestial bodies, e.g. comets. Nga whetu (plural noun) maoridictionary.co.nz
Forget Everything
little else matters
besides that eternal comfort
not gods
nor people
though loving them naturally follows
what matters is logic
not rules
nor cultures
you cannot thwart the tide so go sideways
the here and there beginning and end in simultaneous connection
not infinitesimal
nor impossible
your chances are certain if unexpected in manner not comfort
you can expect comfort
not love
nor companionship
unless you love the measure of all things
by which the entire cosmos throughout all space and time is divided
not Man
nor Woman
You
without you
there is nothing
there is no without-you
You always were
You always will be
The universe whose forgotten to be one
Ever again
Ragged hamstrung light descends
The steps now ladders unhung bend
But then amend
Multiply and fly
Never before such light imagined
Excerpts from other titles by Jason Micheal Dunn
guilt fast fires
conflict children crowd the edges
stranded in sunlight
wearing their sneakers
heroes in opalesque coats of miracle
distil from liquid happy azure
salubrious conditions
we roll over stoned under globe
and fasten to its radiant web
to drain the dream
with threads of iron in despair
singing anxious song
in sailing sunlight
from Poems by Metazoan
A & E
the movie is pure mental labyrinthine mirror
but Venn diagram meetings are the gardens of Eden
like the cartoon thought bubbles between us
they are fruit that are hove to the branches that know
and she will not suggest that we eat them
flick-knife of sunlight to the eyes
a snapshot of street angel
then she was gone
never there
sharply aware of stained glass retina
and the ephemeral glory of being understood and understanding being
quietly bleeding gold for you baby
whoever you are
from Jason and the Golden Thesis
white cat on fire
flames fall across her face
as she gets into bed
hydrangeas pyjama her body
as she gets into bed
was a white cat on fire
curled up on the bed
till she woke up medusaic
to go back to sleep
flames across her eyes
she looked at me
her warm body tired
getting into a dream
from Philosophy for Depressives Against Empirical Vampires
I look through the scummy window out and down through the funny air to the crummy street. Looking up I see we are penned in by a paranoid electric power-lined horizon. Such thinking has arisen like apartment blocks, a crust buttered by sun yellow city breath, inexhaustibly consumed by lungs and eyes in
both the head and mind, like breakfast, complete with coffee strong anxiety. Our sullied age is the seared morning of the bitter end.
However, I'm afraid pride is in my heart because I can bare the sight of its shattered mechanism burring and whirring away another day beyond all expectations that it would fail completely every single denizen diffident to the eventual defeat of every theory ever adornable used to ward off evil. We truly are sunk in our own waste, defining by shining our brilliant lotus minds out of the mire, desperately kindling fires in our smiles to brighten the future for now in spite of the encroaching darkness. Science calls the accumulation of darkness entropy. Apparently chaos increases and never decreases in every closed system. I guess opening up is important then.
The shifting of paper behind me is like the shifting of a sand dune. A candy wrapper, the stiff transparent plastic kind of wrapper, is effortlessly crushed in her hand, as if she held it to my ear. Its sound is ventriloquilly crisp, it uncrushes itself in my ear as well, ironically invincible compared to the extent of its usefulness. Folder bindings snap open, snap shut. Pages turn like leaves and fingers tap dance keys in perfect synch with every blink we think. Peace is time apart from mind.
from Dirty Pure
Once upon a time there lived a boy
He was very shy
But one day he died and he went to hell for some time
but then his family brought him back to life
and he returned with extraordinary powers
to appear as something he was not
to do what he could not do
It was strange
His appearances took on a life of their own
It was weird
His doings were extraordinarily phenomenal
He decided to die many times
But discovered he was dying all the time
He only noticed dying when he tried to live
That’s when life hurt
trying to live
So he died
happily ever after
the end
from Something I Wrote the Other Day
Sure Fire
Soul is the inside story
body is just folded soul
incarcerated to the cubby-holes
sandwiched with the other clothes
in our languid languages