from Armand Schwerner's The Tablets II

OK Freud*

*Eliza Newman-Saul, 2004.

Praises Thunders Kills

Fire waits where fury was with looped ears and a mind full of lack
Motives come from positive position but guarded walls aren't fullproof
Until they could also move sensing a way towards our interpolations
Pressing on in cruel techniques memory complains about persisting mind
For every music never seen fire awaits every fact never sung we aligned
Falsely and do not see the brute exhibit for the lack of what is done

Where number does not bind hold me in this echo ironic as a scribe goes
During backward glances brave bright sand holds shape of attention most
Cameras that come and the sincerely undead beloved as they project
A reproaching flicker so hear your exterior heroics where eye's not I yet
Refugees escape harm to be harmed these corrupt words scattered to lyric
Forgetfulness regulated by a mutual blood of project of action and wrist

Onwards piecemeal go with the words as this is written and severed
By the eventual twist which is not innocence indeed no since nor sense
But justly ulterior suffered as the horizon of an awaited thought
What the aphorist makes instead not having forgotten to be dead
Like a magic lantern among the particulars of thought throwing out
Soundtracks of surrounding bifurcations the tears of shadows fell

Of project of action and rest forgetfulness regulated by an insular course
These words of corruption scatter lyrical refuge save it praises from it kills
So hear your outer heroics an approaching flicker where I’s not eye yet
As they come cameras and the sincerely undead as they project beloved
Brave bright sand holds shape of attention most during backward glances
In this echo iconic as a strobe goes where number does not bind merely show

We aligned falsely and do not see the brute exhibit for all evaluations worth
In this gas and despair we can thrive by dying for now our time to cry no
Being immortal organs for hearing noontide a way towards every fact never sung
Calling out the broad conditions of this leave from fronts I hear
That child whose image insists where they put the cut the will is power put
Promising no one some lines in your judgment book so we are time so far.