Copyright Nathan Michael Dufresne. (to all leeches out there in the matrix of webworld)

10/19/06
Breath of Freedom

Another passing into the maelstrom
Another glassy eye
Another breath of freedom
To open the mind's eye

10-15-04
For Mikael
Sleep in peace
my precious one
dream of years
still to come
and once those eyes
open to see
(visions unfamiliar) what is to come
and what will soon be
Mikael my son,
you have become
the clearest sight
my eyes have
glimpsed
since the day of your creation
I have not been the same+


Twin Scarlet Rivers 3-30-08

Shackled to the world
Inhabiting a body of beauty
She was not only a girl...
She was one of divinity
Scrambled by the more's
Trembling ever gently
Oh Sadly her story
Is only one of many
Twin Scarlet Rivers
Flowing from two differing sources (or)separate cores
Lifted from the living
In dreamtime

4-5-08

When The Wind
When the light spills
In tenderest of motes
Warmth of the very heavens
Not far from this world
When the beach is yours alone
Even the gulls have drawn away
From the yearning to grow
and be free today

When the wind is a trigger
To remembrance in full
From reaches of the soul
...deep in the back of the skull
When the wind As the moon
Rises again calls our doom
There will fall From reaches of stars
This Kindom's Walls into this very room


add to 10/31/07

1-25-08

Haste

The taste of eucalyptus
bitter on the breeze
Rainclouds on the horizon
As far as I can See
Mate haste, the whisering wind
is re-naming memories
Dark skies threaten
but remain protection

Somewhere out in that endless night
Rings a cry escaping from a window
Of a girl who longs to be loved
Somewhere out beyond sight
Hides a child escaping from a window
From a hand that once gave love
but now only spikes, spite, plight

4-16-08
Point of Betrayal
Somewhere out in that grand equatorial void
spinning endlessly to avoid shattering the premise
Of an misbegotten symphony of choral redemption
Spreading all of the disdain
Sending psychoactive compounds
With patience the brain enfolds itself around it
Compounds displayed in repetition
the utterance of dying speaks in rhythm to your sin
Collected pre-dispositions
to replace the actual
Disrespected to the point
Of Betrayal

**That nightmarish conquest fleshly equatorial warmth, merely a symptom

The ghosts of days past, damn, leave me alone.....

Yet Another Year Hath Faded

Dying light accents the softest of blues behind scattered cloud. Where below, as the sun dissapears for the last time this year, there are amber and green-yellow hues that blend gently. To the ominous west is a hellish dark rose flourescence. Alike to a work in watercolor depicting Southwestern tones, the nearly white lime greens and the glowing, scorpionlike wisps of cloud contrast while retaining a certain harmony.

Chronicled across the sky are all imaginings of this year. The first of my son's life, the first months I've spent with my firstborn. Looking back I recall a beautiful, fleeting happiness that I know I must release from my mind's grip. If only I could relive this day for all of eternity, with this chosen sunset as well.

Ah, now the brush that paints the sky has been dipped in the black of storm, seeping across the corners of my vision, What once glowed has been rendered with a weeping ink that spreads slower than the human eye can measure, signifying that all true beauty must one day be washed away into the ultimatum; the encompassing; the shimmering, black void. Into that ever-present yet nonexistent oblivione that swallows the memory of even the most majestic and monumental of sunsets.

I implore you to stay, o sun! For with your presence remains every fragment of life, of hope and possibility. But alas, the flourescent scorpions of the sky have lost their form, displaced amidst the encroaching slate.

As I bear witness to the final rain-choked sunset of 2005, I hold onto this moment as though my soul depended upon the embrace.

If I had the means, I would end your life at this moment...
Yeah you, slime, rodent, maggot-gut, bag of filth.

The millions which fall into this description... hear me now.

I wish to kill you. Before the eyes of those innocents you have pained, preferably. In the fullest of color, the largest of viewscreens, I would demonstrate what comes to those who deny the karmic wheel.

Yeah you, stain, you festering mucosal drip.

The innocents still recall the sickness in your beady eyes, as you strove to separate their conscience from their physicality through subtle verbal manipulations. And yes, when you finally broke them, sending them to cry in shame, you laughed the laughter of madmen through time... senseless, ignorant, and echoing through the heads of those unfortunate enough to hear the dischord.

I will kill you, one day. Be it in words or with my blade... I will not stop until the karmic wheel has spun to it's proper position, and all is justified by the sands of time.

And still, as your insipid manipulations and grandiose, self-imposed claims of messiahhood bleed stinking and thinly into soil that had once been pure, once before your death, Mother Nature herself will reject you. For even in death will your putrefaction corrupt her pristine soils; she shall ne'er accept your heinous corpse. Retching and vomiting forth your poisoned, mangled remains for your master Lucifer to consume and defecate.

At last, you are no more. Yet if only I could render as dead the bitter memories in the hearts of all you have tainted.

Alas, so we ARE.

In the hourglass of all time, our lives are but a single grain. All of us, flesh and blood upon dirt and stone, sharing the human experience in this blink of time's eye. Here we are, breathing the same air, sharing the same miraculous planet. The lives intertwined, the tales shared and the memories created as the cycle continues. In any given moment are the thousands sent to the oblivion of death as another thousand eyes are opened to the light of day.

I don't fear hell, for it holds no chamber to say.
Though heaven seems a beautiful dream where I hope to stay.
I don't fear death, but the end of sweet air and the passing away of my inspirations.
I don't fear the end, only that it seems to render all these dreams and memories extinguished.

The final day of 2004. It's been a dually enlightening and emotionally wrenching year. With the birth of my son, I've been granted what seems a different set of eyes to view this world. His new life is full of smiles, hums, curiousities, and sleep. I now look to ahead to a future bright with possibility. The depth of my love for him is truly beyond description, and has enriched my soul to its core. His every motion and every breath are reason for inspiration, and I find myself enjoying certain small miracles of life that I had once ignored. The depth of my love for his life is really indescribable. Because of this soul-shifting experience, 2004 will always be ingrained in the annals of my memory.

I've spent many hours working on music. This has resulted in a lot of material, but only parts of some yet unspecified whole. Though I'm proud of what I've written, I'm frustrated with my occasional lack of focus on the songs as finished products. The reason for this avoidance of conclusion is that I can nearly always come up with another 10 ways as to how this verse or that chorus could be improved upon. This coupled with a cautious hesitancy to expose my material to the public eye in fear of copyright infringement or complete artistic rejection. Hey, phobias are phobias. Though the road is long, I feel I'm on the way towards an album. The theme may be conceptual, dealing with September 11th, Industrialism,Mass Consciousness, birth/death/afterlife themes. I'll keep the ethers here in cyberspace updated.

This year has been a life in itself.

An Eruption Aqua...

...from chasms wrought with the thousand tendril....
...thirsting with the unquenchable THIRST of the sea...
...Poseidon's reign dethroned and his kingdom as the haunters...
...Thirsting for those upon the shore...
...Those who trusted You with sleep...



In Memoriam: Indian Sea, Post-Christmas 2004

Welcome To the Show

The dawning of my first Weblog. I suppose the internet exists for a purpose, and thus I'll begin a log of my philosophies, rantings, and ideals. So, welcome to my small corner of cyberspace.