Poetry 1

Totalitarian Thought Regime 

 

History has its mythos, 

Mystery has its pathos, 

Society has its ethos, 

We have gone..............

 

American Policy Leftovers 

Rome never held a flame to what the mighty eagle accomplishes,
The talons that rip, the atomic fire that burns, the birth of universes through techno-illogical devancements......
The humans live at no expense large enough...
No cost great enough.....
no Costco big enough.........
While the mother knows all, sees all, feels all and retaliates while most of the humans live blindly.......
frivolously.....
vicariously through a viral nature...
Babylon wasn't big enough, the oceans aren't dirty enough, the hydrogen bomb isn't devastating, ENOUGH!
So the armpit of the world will be flattened by the most beautiful shape known to the mind,
the spiral......
All of the armpit's rich elitist pig oil money, all of its industry and all of its poverty.....
is to be drowned by a spiral.....
The mother knows......
she is angry,
so sit back,
relax,
get fat,
watch the 18 wheelers go floating by.....
Like clouds is a cesspool sky........
The eagle has landed and broken its wing......
Now the archangels and demons together shall sing...........

Giant Faces in the Sun

The Time straightens a curve, taking on the visage of a naked snake, trans-versing time reality tunnels, we all look to the sun for answers and receive one reply, whilst begging for everything and taking nothing, learned travelers take time to stretch, pulling taffy time to a nil, stall, stop, energy equals matter speed of light squared, it can be neither created nor destroyed, is infinitude, circle beats the square...........

Intelligent Terrain

Growing by Day and Night,
Year after year,
Making a sound,
a collective sound,
a sound we have known
for so very long ,
who of us can remember
when it all started,
a beautiful sound,
aurally unbound,
always changing,
not founded in
human logic,
no theory...........

we are numb to it,
will someday be deaf because of it,
as it washes over all of us,
a place from Isis' womb...........

the first beings made
a plan set by older ones,
her that we call mother,
regulate us..........

the ones with bodies..........the slow inevitable
over-saturation of sound.
over many millennium,
changed to giants,
of the earth
eating the soil
slowly.........

now the only sound,
killing our ears,
making us all useless
as we have always been
to the cicada...........



Death Defiance



The ancient ones’ minions look over at us all from the hill,
their master had been alive for far too long now,
they dreamt of his death every night,
feeling as if they had always been on trial and lied to,
told that there is nothing here on earth for them
except death and violence and solitude, by this supposed,
according to him, creator of all that is terrifying and dark about reality...

His plan had always been:

the humans must die, and by their own hands,
as it would seem to them, being misled since humanity’s
first days by my followers, illusions bled onto the mind, that
we all share, by these beings of darkness, led to believe in nothing,
and that death is the last thing.......

His plans have been chiseled into the essence of all who have followed
him since his beginning, they die and more come to take their place,
to keep our minds from the thought of space, and all that could be,
but simply on all the finality, here and now is the time for their final gift
to bestow upon our seemingly small purposes .........

Thinking they are our friends, that they are helping us,
the evil one ushers in a new kind of death for us,
one he feels is more permanent than the natural illusion set before us,
By imprisoning or destroying our minds, we will forever be grateful,
for all this faith that they feel has been blinding us to the cold hard facts
will be eradicated for good, and no more silly thoughts on progression,
the after life, and all the great art we have created and all of the brilliant
books we have written be burnt black....

The big death, the end is here, and a pleased but still unhappy leader
sits upon his throne on the hill, thinking his plan will be the final blow to our
silly ideas, that threatening thought that this is not all there is,
that there is more, and that death is not final.....

He stands proud as he stares into the mushroom cloud,
as his followers melt away into the hill he stands on
and his wings spread out wide, He roars with laughter,
and then the immense joy fades from his thoughts......

now after all these years,
after all of the tears he had bathed in,
after having gathered as many followers on earth as he could,
he was truly alone now, and would be so for all eternity,
for the followers he killed were us as well,
now he was left to never know if he was right, if this was the end,
because for as long as he had been around,
which had been far too long by now,
he had never thought to ask and
had completely forgotten where he came from..........

and there was no one left to ask

and no one left to tell him........

and he dare not ask the earth because all it would do is lie to him.......

she always does.......

or so he believed......

Moon Flowers

The Moon Flowers are here,
Sirius' light making them grow,
The eye in my mind,
Showing me things never to be shown.......

Flying over the abyss,
wings spread out wide,
An immaculate rainbow bridge
taking me to the other side......

The time is near
for all time to disappear,
We walk run and fly,
holding on to what is dear.........

The hawk and dog gods converse,
about times' place in our lives,
they decide to alleviate us
of all that time implies........

Moving through the mist,
Living out a circular path,
The calling of the gods
will forever continue to exist........

As time dies, and the memory lives on,
We who have been chosen,
stay around for the new dawn.......

and always hear a new song.......

lifes' passionate suckle

the homeless shining, telling people the truth,
smiling trying lives of unattached happiness,
what is needed if you are being human?
give what you can and take what was never yours,
this is not new, nor is it news, we hit the snooze,
all the cell phones are dying,
white healing light of love comes through
your driver side window,
as your tie ties you up, chokes you to death,
and as your lies fly you down, to a bottomless depth,
with a side order of fire............

2011

sun-filled super-consciousness,
glass domes and men with no homes,
poisonous ants, faster growing trees,
the earth on fire with naught left but her stones,
ice creeping down, oceans turned to foam.......


the planets and stars effect us more while we see them
in the skies, shining brightly, their gravity affecting egos slightly,
digging the hole deeper, pulling the soil in over the sleeper,
eventually getting to the bottom and finding new ground,
standing firmly and giving into the sound
of the universes’ rhythmic beat and timbre,
spectral tones, a sky of amber.......


a disaster survived by few,
left to mutate and become anew,
with time-tunnel technology,
and gravitational control,
and eradicated diseases,
a deeper understanding of the soul,
a simpler existence for all species,
an opinion agreed upon by all,
sun-filled super-consciousness
feeding the abysmal sub-consciousness,
bleeding into self-consciousness,
and a return to ancient form...........

we all await a new kind of storm.........

Billy Butter

Nighttime figures sweeping through and around the exterior of my mind, taking charge, and burning batteries, everlasting street fighter returning the favor by bleeding red, hold your head up high to see the blinding light beaming down on you from the entrance of the rabbit hole, digging deep to see oh how they run, leopards eating your young, winded old people running marathons, changing diapers, chocolate filled bananaz, look at your friend's faces, the light comes down, the light is a ball, Lucy finds her way through the quagmire of thoughts and disillusionment, but her eyes are still filled with diamonds, battered french fries taste better than battered wife syndrome, fear tastes like vanilla, words are something that people think are meaningful when they are really rainbows molested by gods, all of them, fill your heart with joy, time is the beast, use him wisely, and eat less or you will become what you fear the most, a fat ass, in leotards, love yourself but don't give a shit about your apples, you took the time, you took the chance, now it's time to dance, fleece licker!

my funny feral child

the patterns that lie beneath the skin of our world(perception, life, material things), changes and grows and wilts at the beat of a master's clock, this master being the one who created the human mind, making us just like him, BLIND! BUT the patterns that do exist, just underneath the surface of our existence, can be felt, seen, understood, and even manipulated(or as it seems to us, some would say hallucinations, others more accurately name it psychic abilities)...............

I make music, this has been my religion, dogma, way of life for a long while now and I consider it to be what I am and why I am alive, to create it, to be sublime in it, and to let it change my mind into one that is more in alignment with the path that has been chosen for me......

by letting go of all of our attachments, just for an hour or two, we can see what our path is, but to let go, oh how hard that can be! Music has allowed me to open up opportunities for higher states of consciousness, in myself, due to it's unique qualities.................

7 octaves......

7 different frequencies of vibrating whatever(strings, air, people)....

me playing and practicing for hours without a teacher, just all by  my lonesome, recording, playing with other people who would become my most cherished of friends and others..........

the key is through that state at which you are not thinking and just acting, playing the music without really thinking about it(free jazz, any sort of improvised music), changes a person, makes them a little more connected to the source beyond the blind one IHVH(Ialdaboath, Samael, Yahweh).......

because we do have other beings that help us and are a part of us, helped in the creation of us, we were mutts in the beginning......

then became pure breeds, and now we are mutts again....

the noontide has risen........

the god View

there is a god who goes by the name of View, as all of you must know,
he is about as old as we are and his plan when we were made was
to see all and everything we do...............

we were also to be his eyes, mankind is what he now sees through, so he can
experience the beauty in every single emotion ever felt by you...............

this all could be false, which you are inclined to believe, but who's to say,
if it is or isn't true, that there exists a god named View.....................

chamber of light and secret orchestral favorites

the details enslave you, walking into the darkness,
blind leaps through and into woods so deep,
freedom fails and you're left with dead ideals, stacked oh so high, as far as the eye can see, irrelevant catastrophe, disaster, what does your life seem to be, while kneeling and preying for an answer to come while believing it to be already there, take all your irrational dogmatics and cut them away, go out and enjoy all of this life, a gift with which to mold like clay, into anything you could ever imagine, visions of voices, coming from within and without, a life filled with magic it is, of this, I have no doubt...............

view interior shadow of Wiltshire pastures

the light, oh the light, bleeding through,
onto our body, as they are wielded like
antennae held by more than one can study,
life leading you as you want to lead it,
with devastating scars from moving against
the current you have been assigned to travel,
the sword shone within the skull, splitting sight,
touch, taste, and smell, while all you have
and all you feared, are cut and destroyed,
without tears................

all written by Akkad the Orphic Priest