
two poems this time 

As I splat my thoughts on the table,
a gross deck of cards to shuffle
all they do is laugh and mock
And stare so much that my arteries have blocked
Their stares become plaque
And however hard I try I cannot fight back
So my eyes bend backwards and spew
Honestly, I don’t blame them
Because if I could take a proper look at the mess in my head
I would too
The iron mask that I parade around everywhere
Has protected me from suspicious care
It doesn’t have a scratch on it, like it’s brand new
But the scratches in my head are scary and true
I can see the blade.
It calls me.
again
again
AGAIN
AGAIN
“You need me. I can save you,” it says. 
I pick it up and brush it against my soft skin;
i’m crying.
it feels good. 
i am in control.
for once.
i draw shapes into my skin
i let the blood trickle down into the sink
in its reflection,
crying hope catches my hazel eyes 
crying hope cradles me in its soft pale arms
i lost the fight this time.


These embers that come from my lack of consternation.  
A fire that gravity does compel.  
Within my own destruction,  
Devaluing extraction here in this hell.  
OBSESSIVE.  
COMPULSIVE.  
OBSESSION,  
COMPELLING,  
This fragmented shit storm of a thing,  
So wretched, these urges.  
Completely, in earnest.  
I've ravaged my own modesty.  
Each spiraling gasp of air,  
So filled with more thoughts and even more than threadbare.  
Mechanical solutions that never pass the time.  
Autodidactic pollution that severs the heart and fucks the mind.  
I've lost much to this lunacy,  
Contributions of a contrived infamy.  
Where has the ground even gone to?  
This truly most desperate attempt at reaching my arms around my mind...  
To choke the insecurity from each swollen nerve,  

That has always been filled with my name.  
These hallways reverberate with itemized intolerable necessity.  
Disgusting need to control that which inevitably will spin further away from me.  
"What is his name?"  
They will ask of me.  
"What was his name?"  
They will ask to see.  

Something that fumbles for truth,  
Something so exhausted and used.  
Someone who wrestles with few, however only in physical ways.  

GRAVITY DOES CREATE AN ORBIT FOR THIS THOUGHT STORM THAT IS LOOSE.  

Awkward, shuffling little man...  
Haphazard miserable little plan...  
"Fold this thing, fold that thing, cross your arms, stand this way."  
Forever and ever and ever in every way.  
No one else could ever be more correct (than me).  
Not in this miserable shit stain of a life.  
No one could ever know more (than me)  
These menacing thoughts that prey upon my mind.  
Intruding,  
Refuting,  
Now eating and bruising...  
My wants so confused for my needs.  
How does it feel to know that there is no controlling each and every single one?  
How does it feel (self) just knowing,  
That this is the source of a lot of your shame.  
Tick,  
Tick,  
Tick,  
Tick...  
BOOM

silence when I bled out

06 Icestorm

Tundrasumpf

Performed by Schallfeld Ensemble, Ninja Guru
Theater Am Lend, 29.11.19
Headphones/speaker listening recommended.

Projections In Real Time

Yolabmi_Bygone-Dear (Senglar rmx)

Track available at Lambmother's "Thanatology" EP (Feb. 1, 2020) published on Bandcamp: lambmother.bandcamp.com/album/thanatology

Thanatology

https://sptfy.com/dekonstruktionii

Thanks for listening!

Dekonstruktion II

2020.06.24 Night Listenings. Winter. Location 1, Part 1.

study on graphical composition, produced 2019.

Untitled V

Gris souris - Sophie Delafontaine - 2017

Ardoise noire de brune
Ardoise gris souris
Ardoise bleue de lune
Satin du matin
Velours de la nuit
Ardoise éblouie

extrait de « Ardoises » de Jacques Prévert

Gris souris

This is a compilation from an over night recording in Kirpakka woods with 15 small cracks in chronological order and as last a bigger bang from one long recording earlier in february.

I had the microphones out in Kirpakka small preservation area over night (from sunset to midday) during the coldest days when temp went down to -20C.  There was practically no sign of life except some road noise and machines from a nearby farm.  Daytime there were a few Crows and two Ravens, one Great Spotted Woodpecker and in early night the distant call of a Tengman's Owl.  

One recording of 18 hours earlier didn't result in any sound of life except a very weak Crow at 11 am. and the big crack in the end of this recording.

There seems to be a great loss of tits and crossbills in Finnish forests today.

But the trees were keeping a good amount of cracks and pops, specially in the early night when the temperature change was as fastest. 

http://www.rupuranta.net/weblog/filet/210215/

(MKH8020ab80cm, MixPre 32>24/48, no processing, +3dB, flac)

Jan Eerala Finland

Snaps and cracks - 15/2/2021 - Freezing Kirpakka Forest

mostly archived work- new sounds will be found at:
www.nicholasmorrish.com

Projections In Real Time

Nicholas Morrish