Kevin Trent Boswell

Featured

untitled

In my dedication to lifting you higher,

I am willing to hold you down,

Until you drop all the words of the liar

And your senses come back around

If you think, you will easily recall…

In fairness, I told you from day one

That of you, I would have all

Or else I would settle for none

In blindness I will take your beauty

In deafness, accept your word

When you give completely, as is your duty

Only then will it be seen and heard

Seeds have been planted in soil, indeed

Despite resistance, they will take root

I will wait for the pruning of the weed

The removal of what does not suit

Once the grapes spring from the vine

In the garden you will find me

Taking the sweet fruit that is mine

As it ever was supposed to be

Magus

(Kevin Trent Boswell)

https://antiverse.webs.com

https://trentboswell.blogspot.com/

https://conjurework.com

https://www.patreon.com/magus72

Tiger

On the riverbanks of India

The men wade among crocodiles

For fish

In the jungles of Indonesia

The men walk among tigers

For wood

In the backs of our western minds

Among the terror files

We wish

These monsters

Would disappear

For good

Oh, to be alive and in Indonesia

By Kevin Trent Boswell (Magus)

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

Conjure Work

Conjure Sound

Antiverse

birthday basket

On my birthday, June 21, 2018

For all of you

—

glow bright,

torch flame ball

squeezes

through the cracks

in the wall

of the circled garden,

zapping flowers and faces

with light and warmth

illuminating orb climbs atop

the back of a crab carriage

and takes up its reigns

ten miles down the trail

then ten more and

a final ten days, still

of all the gifts

possible to call satisfying,

none is more so

than having a handful of faces

you know and welcome

into your eyes

arms about you,

a band of those who can be counted as your people

and you

as one of their own

in this, my mem-heh day,

I dig into my pockets

and find only useless

bits of nothing,

ridiculous things like gold

and documents of ownership,

certificates of overpriced

possessions,

keys to things,

things that are kept

locked away

for fear of their loss…

I instead grab for paper and pen and offer you instead,

something truly useful

a small scrap of peace

like the Christ split the

loaves and fishes,

I will break this bread of joy

with all of you,

we will divide it between us

until there is no more left

with each disappearing morsel,

may you, like Osiris,

be reconstructed,

made whole

enjoy your slice of cake

it was never mine, anyway;

nothing ever was

the things I called my own

were spells, illusions,

glamours and self-deceptions

the only thing real is that

which I give to you

may it sustain your hearts

through lonely periods

may it entertain you

during dullness

may it prevent you

from doing stupid things

when you are angry

or afraid

may it protect you

from the attacks of others,

may it protect you

from the awful attacks

that you launch

upon yourself

may it make you laugh

when you’re down

and seemingly out

may it be a cornerstone for you,

as you succeed

and build your new palaces

in the sun

take this and share

like a plant cutting,

spread it

like wildfire,

let it swallow the whole

branding genuine smiles

on the faces of all you people,

you children

of birth and growth,

decline and

the final surrender to sleep

let this stupid,

silly smile disease

infect you,

let the epidemic of laughter

sweep

over the land

taking you utterly

and joyfully

by surprise

By Kevin Trent “Magus” Boswell

ConjureWork.com

KevinTrentBoswell.com

ConjureSound.com

ThePlasticInfinity.com

Nothing Gained

Two or three enemies conspiring in unison,

However petty or untrue their cause

Can turn an army of friends against you,

As if it never was

A couple of soured enemies,

In coveting something you possessed

Banded together for your ruin

But never settled their own unrest

Child A, when refused a toy

That clearly belonged to Child B

Child A smashed it, in a rage, and turned

His eye to the toys of Child C

As many toys as he can jealously take

Each stolen, broken or thrown

Each proves only how sad he is

For never having toys of his own

—

By Kevin Trent “Magus” Boswell

ConjureWork.com

ConjureSound.com

ThePlasticInfinity.com

paranoiaquatic

Bait fish…

bait fish

quick, nervous movements

where to turn?

swim w/ the school,

swim by the rule

swim for yourself,

swim alone

catch 22

still the sponge lung,

pumps an essential fear

evolutionary prerequisites

there in the shallows

the predator swallows

“thanks to our selfless brothers

in the sacrificial, outer circle”

For more, see…

for music:

The Plastic Infinity and

Conjure Sound

and for more poetry:

Antiverse and

Patreon

oh, little dog of pity

oh, little dog of pity,

i have been of once as thee

cast aside, as tied to a tree

i frown on you not in spite,

nor in mercy, for to

set you free would be right

but i will not unbind you and you will not run,

even if i did, you are too dumb

you would but pant and froth and bounce

and for your master, trot patiently about

for she who scooped you up as a puppy,

only a tiny puff of cuteness fluffy

i know too well of your dilemma

i know of it, yes… am forced to remember

how it happened that once i was cute…

yet somehow, i no longer fit the suit

of childhood’s clothing and abandoned toys;

outgrew the mold of being a boy

as favored youth slips away from thee

you, no fault of your own, lose your novelty

i have been where you were, in her bed at night

i have been where you are now, seen as a plight

i have felt sweet caresses on christmas morn

i have slept in hunger amongst bristles and thorns

i too, was once fed by her hands

i too, lost my charm, upon becoming a man

a friend told me once, in a moment of truth,

that the larger things instinctively protect the youth

but small things grow up, as they always must

and fear compels them to crush them to dust

painfully, these things i have come to understand

it is not by criminality that i have become a man

but instead, it is my fortune and honor indeed

for now, of her milk, i have no need

but you, i will pity forever after

for you do not realize the cruelty of your master

and so, if i loosed you and set you free,

you would only wait for your master, beside the tree

you have grown in your body but not in your head;

you will not run away, though you will not be fed

or given water, or love, or be cared for again

as this is the way of grown dogs and men

By Magus

Kevin Trent Boswell

* Author’s note: The poem is not an actual account of animal abuse but rather a metaphor about toxic relationships. The dog in the picture is Stacie and she’s spoiled rotten, so don’t feel bad for her 😉

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

Patreon

Antiverse

untitled

Of course it hurts

No matter…

You will continue

Is a mountain

A grading slope

Or a colossal venue?

There is no escape…

Nor can you pretend to

Simply reach inside

Find it in you

Go on your way

By Magus

Kevin Trent Boswell

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

Patreon

Antiverse