1Q84

1Q84 written by Imaad Wasif for the mindfilm adaptation of the same title (One Q Eighty-Four or ichi-kew-hachi-yon (いちきゅうはちよん Ichi-Kyū-Hachi-Yon?)) based on the novel by Haruki Murakami.

MR MOJO DYIN

VOCAL/GUITAR I. WASIF, BOBB BRUNO ON BASS
LA WOMAN

THE VISITOR

I heard the splendor of fear,

  but I felt nothing.

I heard the harp of the New Albion,

its detuned chorale sweeping through the hills,
while a swarm of flies gathered in the sunlight nearby,

ushering in a new day –

  but I do not feel any differently now.

A black tapestry still hangs on the wall,

outside the doorway

  where our first visitor came,

  only to be sent away quickly,

  before you were awakened.

A silken thread floating in the wind,

undulates, 

snakelike,

before my eyes

  and I realize that I can finally see

  every color that can be reflected through air,

  in prismatic waves all around me.

Perhaps I am not blind after all,

  but only suspected of being so in a dream.

Unpublished Poems

May 2012

REMAINS

Remains

I bled the pendant that she gave me as a going away present

Can you blame me for being numb?
Drops of colors fall and fill the spectral imagery

Painted by tears from the orbs of a muse whose womb is barren

I couldn’t say goodbye

I knelt down but she wouldn’t take the note that carried my confession

Written in blood-flow and semen

If I was sickening to you then, at least now we’re even

I saw a hawk feasting on the remains of a lone pigeon

I approached, it was not fazed but transfixed by the incision

Made by a beak, resembling a phallus

When it flew away I picked up the chain of bones and built you a palace

It still stands as a shrine to our division

These trembling fingers made of porcelain

Has the fever pitch plateaued?

I tap the veins to our telepathy lest the urges be controlled

But when the emptiness feels this wide, I can’t pretend

I need the energy, all your energies to rape the idyll

I’m a vampire for the reverie

NOISE POP 2012

I...W..in the guise of EF will be opening for Atlas Sound at Noise Pop 2012. This will be as stark nay orchestral minimal as it gets, EGGspect new songs, through the spectrum of tonalism and noise, a Duchampian myth "comparable to the Marquis de Sade’s bid to sadists—relief from formal restraints, accountability, guilt, and shame," less paroxysm, less black dahlia manifestation, more color, more joy, electric flower stripped of its petals?  Rockers beware, no rock to be found at this show, other spectral sides.

O.R.