The vanguard of anachranistic apophenia is the anabasis required to embrace random paradigms of wider subjectivity.
Laughing Cause
Seeking a path toward calmer dictations To sing new songs of stories not old Where grief does not prey To walk through grey cold To practice without recitation What is called the lunacy of the Sun? A new apotheosis? One time for all time: it is a new genesis Dale Cooper asked to pass to him No hymn of the blunted Before Odessa The presence of the past Is no present in the future The death of Cinema A joint by me Longer stories say more So long as they don't spurn The paralytic in his wheelchair The narcissistic physicist Filmed by the brute auteur Stranger hate I've never known Nor ever felt in a present A perfectionist discussed A chapter excised Omega remorsed To walk through grey cold Before I was bold The nip of frost can hold Sarcasm the grip of mold Of these I am told Is the Goth of the South Not an inversion Some paler version Prismed by Atlantic Set upon Caesar's oaken throne? The binary synthesis of The dirty mauve And tangy teal Reveals the hidden star Deus Dyad No druid nor dryad Nolan's pitch The primal scream The listener effect A blind ricochet destroys my affect Phenomena but a gaze Zerkalo caught it Another blow against the empire Death to the umpire The Republic never started Transition implies movement The wind blew through the ears As though no gray nor grey was in-between Clocks don't move backwards Space does not disappear Only to reappear This may happen Or had happened When beta moved to gamma And a fourth always in motion Under the oceans Elder gods Your tongues babble of Jotun And epsilon ever in flames 6, 7, 8, reaped with the grains Nine iotas remain Cupid and Valentine crumble between On this, everyday is Halloween
When They Say Fly, I Say How High?
Calling the court of my heart to order My skin the only judge This is no jury trial The plaintiff my brain All rise! Desire goes up for judgment today The flash of thunder The boom of cloud carried coil The woman inside the statue Like a cover torn from a book Burns all masks I will drink of no cask And here I lay beneath the Earth Seeking the root of gypsum The bones of Balrog my bed Magic is virtual The real conforms to real Everything is real All thoughts, creative To set apart reel from real To bind the farthest fantasies Everything is borrowed No sin ever original Nothing is final Fantasies on the 'morrow New virtues necessary When we control our own Self-solved puzzles And the artifices unknown Will they spin stronger muzzles? The blackest of mages The dawn of new ages Does not hold forth in cages Even when it rages Nor ancestors in mazes Sometimes I wonder How far did I blunder To see my faults asunder Imagining new funders Of desires unsquandered I dream of tests Questions unstudied Answers ungiven Failures carried on Beyond the Soma To put an academy on trial Would feel far more just Than to be judged for tenets That I believe I must Offer in Trust The gavel hangs in air Are we not all indigenous of Gaia? My skin shifts A cloak of native colors In the middle of the night I found a reason: The diamond-studded chalice The ochre fluid A brush of hand against hand When Tesla felt no static Beyond this prestige What lies between To watch each other's backs We must face each other And yet I like to be led on Desire seeks desire And an ascent to assent Any which way the compass turns The z-coordinate burns And Icarus never learns But wait This time it's different The object environs react The tempest rolls through Pushing the heat of the sun Away from his footfall The grasp has now exceeded the reach Nothing can breach The dome around Sol system, so Desire is acquitted of accusation A boat is no shelter A ship is no skein The thread cannot flicker If there is no time So rebuild, Theseus Build a labyrinth From slats of your ship It is your turn now To stare at the Sun, for The fox's shadow tempers all glare
The Needs of Many
Sometimes when trees are bare In spring, still, The art of some mare In sight less the frill Are the layers of dream, and Pine needles do not fall Here at the edge of mean, when Drifting to sleep some strange call Ushers out a great chorus A step forward on righteous path Threading the needled eyes of Horus; Downward spirals the fall of math
Five Thousand Whiskers
Enjoin to enjoy Five thousand whiskers Which sometimes whisper Of mimed Olympian mixtures And Onyxian mirrored scriptures Five thousand whiskers Did the Romany count Upon the cartas del rostro Never had one known That the same numerous nombres Were held in the moments When the eagle nodded Upon the highest pole Twined to the Earth In solidarity toward The fabled stones Where one would atone Again, again One more time; Five thousand whiskers Burnished without fright This one seeks no end to no night!
Where Was Quetzal?
¿Quando eres la ultimá día Before the burning of the hay? The rook in the yard holds no offense As the beat of the trance Makes gold the Globe An atmosphere untold Of these binary Earths Mentioning to scold Now a symphonic Terra Forever sin control
The Quest to the Gathering
Neither Penelope nor Helen; Neither Helen nor Penelope; Could now find the cipher Of the dialectic of dialogue. Calypso but a phantom between Scylla and Charybdis. The Cyclops the one true father And I split in two. Word of light, opera darkness Lord of fight, pauper of peace And Medusa is no collateral Poseidon... Watch: Mirando mi llorando A boulevard and a drive A muted world Echoes of a muted song. Down in the park A walk in the park. Drawing of dark There was my mark. Telemachus more hero to sing: What is the word For the rule of offspring, ANARCHIA?! Por supeust' A little jest: The feast of fest And famine to those Who carry no sword All along The Elvenpath.
Hot Strictures
The deep of the road Emboldens the cold
Climb Down
Through the magic Of mysteries' mast Sorrow rings out from the past In these my die is cast
The Distance to Proxima
Solely souly slowly A face unable to be Not forgotten but lost In the woods of desolation Treading the staircase of the painting He's selling his stairway The mechanix of some Pagan engineer Why climb when one could elevate?
The Dead Men in Me
Twinkle twinkle little emblem Upon my neck so fair and down Time escapes when gravity waits For the muscles of the unbound Born again to borne no more No shackles below the strand The man screams, "God!" Before his master was found. ¿Quieres mas? Do you want more? Vill du ha mer? The Sea of names, The outsider claims, To have skipped a step, No footfall can claim.
The Desiccant
The sky is a fortress the wind is a dream the breath of another caught in the stream. Where does a storm go when it breaks and it dries? Under the sun’s glow, it breaks and it dies. We’ll find it again now off in the night sky.
Silence is Waiting
Insidious owls blind to sight They hear what cannot be night Under the porch There is naught but fright So come what will Before the end And triumph in The last days of ken.
