Audiothrillseeker

Magick, Music and Ritual 12 - Audiothrillseeker & Dave Migman - The Heart of Every Avalanche

The Heart of Every Avalanche
(Audiothrillseeker/Migman)

This
to me that was whispered
with cacaphonic brevity
like the heart of an avalanche
that scored me in three
What was it? for it did not
remain
it passed through my hollow bones
dripped like wax
from thought
to poisoned thought

this unreason
this mirage
this illusion
the serpent
wore a mask of you

in a golden moment poised
a glance
now stolen
from
my
memory
I will weave you some kind of spell
flare into your righteous
annihilation face
your pain
will endure

I am going
I am nearly
gone

I am learning
to unlearn
the ball of thoughts
unwind
unwoven
each simple thread
yearns to become
complex structures

gone
nearly
gone now
a part destination
an incomplete plan
wreck-a-nowhere

I am drawing it deep
your face
is fading
still, burning

so, from now on
there will be only
a series of lovers
whose hearts join
in temporal unison
sing our gasping songs
through nights of discovery

And so, as she returned
to my bed
and in that tender spoon
her kisses came
and I knew
there would be others
for both
and though we might part
to converge again
some point,
down the line

Magick, Music and Ritual 11 - Audiothrillseeker - Umbilical

Umbilical
(Audiothrillseeker)

This improvised track was born out of Kubrick and meditating too long on 2001: A Space Odyssey's layers of meaning. The Great Alchemical Work moves to the silver screen.

Magick, Music and Ritual 10 - Audiothrillseeker — Riding Cygnus

Riding Cygnus
(Audiothrillseeker)

An improvised sonic interpretation of Cygnus mythology. The journey of the soul between death and birth, carried by the bird and the importance of that place in the sky. Also loosely based on the design of the city of Canberra, Australia.

Magick, Music and Ritual 10 - Dave Migman and Audiothrillseeker - These Are Not Tears

These Are Not Tears
(Audiothrillseeker/Migman)

Music and mixing was performed by Australian musician Audiothrillseeker conjures the essence of the words by Dave Migman, adding, as all good music should, a further, profound dimension.

our dissolution runs in rivulets
down our cheeks begging
forgiveness from the hollows
of our misinterpreted lives
in our solvency, inadequacy
the pieces dissolving, the jigsaw
is a kaleidoscopic craze
in which we seek fresh patterns
to imbibe meaning into each strata
as we struggle onwards
sometimes laughing, sometimes crying
but always now apart
longing the halcyon fantasy
that marks the narrative of
our passing
you are a stingray spike through a tongue
you are turquoise embedded in flesh
an old man gasping for air
on a Mediterranean night.
Everything you touch ignites or dies.
there was no diversion from the sound
they were diametrically exposed to each other
he sat, immobilised, as the cello
drew powder from his bones
and the chanter rang the chambers
of his heart like a sonorous bell
can’t say I want the stress of your
disaster freaking up the warp of my weft
the April sun is drying out the shingle
the plane arrows the apricot dusk
I have several blessings to count
Several to curse, several to discount
Another beer to fudge the balmy
cunt and feed the bastard night alive
again to curse, to drop, to fall
Do they laugh at our freakish dance?
Surely we are casting doubts upon
The paradigms of their contrivance
For it is their ‘shit’ not ours, and
Though I do not doubt our insanity
I also consider theirs more virulent!
Ours is that of imbeciles drunk on
The scant passion of moments past
Clinging to our obsession with the
Temerity of limpets – the bastion
Of faith and faithless, dreams
Or emptiness, the sun hollers
Through the pink, some one is drowning
In the silence of the ocean