Tag: transformation
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Fusions & Fissures
or Ruptures & Dithers So much depends on a rupture.The Rapture erupts as old bonds corruptReleasing, decreasing the nothingAnd no thing can existOr insist itself upon what consistsWith blissFully underWear and tear exposedA flare across what once was bareExtending the Kosmos by a thin hair. Nothing changes without cataclysmOn some level.Summed levels unravel, suggesting past…
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I, Didymus
And today, without my mother, we are adrift. Twins out at sea, using the oars that life gave us to paddle to a shore that flickers in and out of sight.
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Belabor The Day
On this day we labor to remember the promise of memorial.
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A Dolphin Fathoms Deep
A floor becomes a sea, a gallery becomes a dive point — an illustrated poem about escaping servitude and finding a pod to swim toward paradise with.
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Harder Than Oaken Wood
I’m taking this much harder than I thought I would. I’m taking it harder than oaken wood.
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Am I Drawing A Butterfly Or Is A Butterfly Drawing I?
I feel a clearing this morning. When you think of the psyche as an energy system it all makes more sense. You really can’t get to the parts that matter without a quantum view of the energetic psyche. The Self is a fractal. This is fundamental. If you go looking inward hoping to find something…
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A New Universe To Weave
0850 — at some point I stopped being purely me and became someone I thought more acceptable to society. I picked up an attitude here, an affect there, a shield, a weapon… a patchwork of energy fields obscuring, creating, destroying… The most “me” threaded within & without the whole fucking thing. My midlife trick is…
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Are We There Yet?
Bracing. Heart racing. Memory tracing Forever facing leaning In every direction at once Quantum, I laugh at you quantum To you it’s all quanta, But if you wanna Know my strong opinion your hedging when you’re keening Fear careening courseward leaning forward And I haven’t even left my chair.
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The Beetle In My Box
Sometimes I feel more alone than alone. Because no matter who is around The beetle in the box is suffocating. So I open my head to let him breathe.
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Forging the Strohax
The alchemy of the linguistic stim. I once read a piece by Grant Morrison on Chaos Magick and creating a sigil. Morrison is a modern-day shaman, a psychonautic genius who channels profound truths into the two-dimensional universe of the graphic novel. I read his piece as part of a compendium by a group called Disinformation.…