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)
Copyright 2018
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
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
—
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:
and for more poetry:
Antiverse and
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
copyright 2018
* 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 😉
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
copyright 2018
soundcloud.com/kevin-trent-boswell/looking-for-a-way
If you like The Beatles, Pink Floyd, Jane’s Addiction, Jimi Hendrix or Jethro Tull, you might like
Magus & The Plastic InfinityHear more and get some free .mp3 songs at: The Plastic Infinity
He concluded then,
After seeing the starry night
Unfold –
Cluing in
On times of old
– And expelling smoke
That all the universe
Dwelled within himself
(Perception is ALL)
At least until,
The hammock broke and
He took a fall
Suddenly, he felt
VERY small;
Became aware
Of what he did not know
So, he retreated
To the house
To watch
The late show
——–
Written by Magus of Conjure Work
Copyright 2018
who do i think i am?
you ask
why,
i am joe schmoe,
don’tcha know?
i am he who plays
by the rules;
the servant of fools
i am the scrounger
of pocket change
i am he
who will exchange
himself
for gain
you know my name.
yours is the same.
By Magus (Kevin Trent Boswell)
copyright 2018
For music, see:
For more poetry:
Antiverse and
in the days of short pencils
and long papers
an earned renunciation of earlier
struggles
supernatural glimpse of a
well cooked tomorrow,
lying on the plate
beside the knife of
decision
bringing in the trot lines;
wrestling with those large, fat fish,
ready for the pan
and the flame
no more kung-fu,
arduous battle with
quadratic equations
instead, glancing at a
moldy clock,
I see that the
little hand is on armistice
and the big hand is on
congratulations
As Time Goes By
Performance by Kevin Trent Boswell. Written by Herman Hupfeld. Arrangement by Dave Frackenpohl.
The 1940 jazz standard written by Nancy Hamilton, music by Morgan Lewis.
Here performed by Magus (Kevin Trent Boswell) as a chord-melody, instrumental guitar solo. It’s not my own arrangement, just one I picked up from a book of jazz standards. Enjoy.
See more at:
a beautiful trap
enveloping prey
with your
impossibilities;
ideas…
a subtle swarm
of lovely fireflies
invades
the lungs,
precipitating
an expensive sleep
and all this
is just your way
of saying
hello
also see:
a brief glimpse of something sort of like poetry… but not entirely… by Kevin Trent Boswell
The bean came undone
The waters did run
And runners so fast
Cannot be out run
It worked out in the wash
And came out in the rinse
And no one’s thought
About it since
by Kevin Trent Boswell, aka Magus
Find out more at these spots on the wonderwebs:
goodbye to long loved lover…
of mind
of body
of soul comfort
a simple adieu will never do
i had to learn of your blues
before i could come to our parting
with my new lack luster ontology
i will reflect
on my past respect
for you
and what you meant to me
we danced on the threads of being
auriferous sight,
through the succulent sight
of your superior seeing
last night i dreamed of monsters
but while i was awake
my mind was subservient
to your subsequent safety;
many daydreams did you bring me
in baskets of gold weaving
but now, my mind troubles
at the thought of retrieving you
and your sorely, of late,
soft company…
which has become sharp
and obtrusive
these days, since the
course of my ways
has drifted
away from you,
my former confidant
i have betrayed you
in some sense,
since i have outgrown you,
i now must disown you,
no longer a jewel
but a weight
no longer the earthy giver
of the delighted light of life,
my freedom of a wife,
full of discourse
and ideas
i will send word of your purpose
through my travels,
the undertakings of my soul
seen hereafter without you
i will miss you sorely,
though i may tolerate you
no more
by (Magus) (Kevin Trent Boswell)
More at:
Question not, nor wonder why
Twist not knots in thy mind
Much is mystery beneath the sky
Meant not to know whilst in thy prime
Understanding lies not in fruit unripe
Sweetest fruit is aged and cooked
Pull your freedom from nature’s pipe
There lies the knowledge you’ve overlooked
by Magus (Kevin Trent Boswell)
Fertile Green May Not Be Overcome
You shall never diminish,
If no more so than in my mind
You have succeeded thus far, fair lady
In clearing the dust from my table
To replace that foul antiquity
With fresh linens and the lovely flowers of
Your feminine presence
Perhaps now, may I prove myself worthy
To sit here and dine, beneath the light
Of your intoxicating grace
Fertile green may not be overcome
No lasting path shall be cut
Through the forest of your youth
The increasing resilience of your spirit
Will cause you to flourish and grow wild,
Beyond the dreams of men and dogs
Never pausing to contemplate
The futile mutterings
Of half-hearted fools
Fertile green may not be overcome
By Kevin Trent Boswell, ©️ 2018
Kevin Trent Boswell 
