cut up #3

Must speak
stars influencing till numbness is at the soul
the sleeping new magic
the pointless, jumps,
the reinvented powers
reached and paper
like the bashing beating shifting of death currents.
The height is where the lukewarmdimmed watchful for
hand rise larger than ancient silence
the shape stirs
and then less
as the scar, my God’s pond. A silence.
magic has of my arm
for all magic
time stretches
comes and change out
yet to learn the way
the route now to capture
begs destruction burning
letting Zen, the too much
the old
the garden
the old change is where else to go
O’sorcerer asleep
like the numbers
me for magic as the way it begins
the hour within to God lifts
is struck
my own, the wound, the heart
knowledge be stillness of
with pen beyond
has already altered and so transformed.
At so mundane empty heaven
a state
words
I state so
shaman, where the mountain transfigured states
send flames sorcerer
lukewarm is no
I meet where the magic must
that it is my heart
the minds like a spell
having must be the state
then the old
the nameless dead
like decomposition has the patterns points
my new magic
the new magic should me
leaving time bends beyond this back.
O’ new magic dead
where?
but at the tip energy sapping are known; of a beast within must be one unit is docile
i try
The poet all over the new quiet thief
a steady no map.
No turning, I struggle
simmer in work beneath
see
there coming from tide
is and stay sunlight
gracing the new magic is
and there’s where i me and thought
like hand of i destroy
height of heart jumps
world at a drowned cold
as i’m turning
soul break spirit stirs
pauses above magic
like and less the foot again.
The so long its own be unseen awake
have the salt working on breakdown
somnambulism and inside
seek the of sync tongue
i ago deciphered.
Made mundane know no.
#cutup #irvingpaulpereira
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