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 Scott Thomas Outlar

 From out the Silence…Light 

Exhausted Rhythms

Smooth Sailing

across the Divide

Scott Thomas Outlar spends the hours flowing and fluxing with the (sometimes chaotic) tide of the Tao River while laughing at and/or weeping over the existential nature of life. His words have appeared recently in venues such as Dissident Voice, Dead Snakes, Section 8, Your One Phone Call, and Siren. His debut chapbook "A Black Wave Cometh" will be released in April by Dink Press. More of Scott's writing can be found at

Something silent this way comes –

What ancient angles call out the angels?

What sacred shapes complete the cycle?

This gray world is seeking its shine

crying out for color

Stain these windows

Paint these walls

Sing these hymns

and pray for the light at the end

of the tunnel

to pierce through a breaking fog

We’ve been left in the dark too long


Stoic statues waiting on a miracle –

Seeking some corporate master to save the day

when the answers lie not in concrete pavement

and flashing neon billboard advertisements

selling the sickness unto our death

but in the subtle shades of green

still alive and breathing

in an open park where trees are vibrant

and persistent grass pushes up through cracks

A fountain of youth

in the center of gravity’s rotation

A tower to Heaven

we can climb once we’re ready

Unbound of these earthly shackles

Prepared for a higher destiny

moving hand-in-hand toward something more


A cleansing tide is coming soon –

Who will be stuck in the oil spill?

Who will build their Buddha raft

and set sail atop the high peak wave?

A God sent ark built with

our own two hands and conscious ingenuity



Every problem has a solution

once the ways of old perception are smashed

with a hammer designed to demolish false idols

The Kingdom has been here all along

Time now to see who chooses

to unlock the pearly gates within

so the New Age can come in peace



Back into the blue

with shades of crisp yellow

pulsing upon the burnt horizon,

spilling downward

in disjointed rhythm

to the singing cicadas.


An eagle bursts into flames,

crashes into a cloud,

sucks the exhausted frequencies

from the tailpipe

of a dying jetliner,

then fades into absolution’s oblivion.


The taste of spoiled wine

corrupts the tongue

like poisoned tap water,

and I am instantly saved

from all your foolish sins.

I’m crossing the Rubicon

I’m not looking back

I don’t need the past

I’ve sucked dry its nectar


The ripe fruit was luscious

Eve and I plucked it

down from the garden

to bathe in the juices of light


The future is golden

if I can just get there

A symphony crashing

on wavelengths I knew not existed


Knowledge is power

I’m feeling strong so

I’ll dive in the ocean

and swallow the whole lot of life


Drown in the rhythms

of dancing vibrations

I saw the source code

crack and spill out with The Word


The sirens were screaming

I couldn’t stop laughing

There’s no chance in hell

I’ll wreck on their rocks of mirage

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