The Past

Is an eclipse devouring the humble sun. We are particles of dust caught by a ray of light for an instant. The sun is magnetic on the intert heart, and the piling drums of fortune combine in a drama of war chants.


Become Ordained

Then marry people like crazy, what the hell? It's under attack! Attacks! Attacks I says! Bliiiiiiieeeeee meeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!


The Edge of Lighted Sights

Grapple with the emptiness as it seeps in and is removed,
Floating upward through you, as passed-away-looks and
Thoughts of morning fade—where the dew is caught again,
When the fresh built flower first opened, unstained by
The sun, then, where the old man could not return, there,
That place of beginning before the forge rent itself
Inward, thrust aside the barricade, there, the stoppage time
And men admit—the stopping stopped—the ease restored.
Resuming in the path is the light crashing through you—
Unseen invisibility rips, unseen invisibility is fire, is not
hot, but, searing; it fills you, moving the other things aside.
It is life living itself at once, it is the truth barreling out of
the cloud, it is the moment free of thought, it is the time
when the imagination stands still, and it is the place when
the shifting gazes interlock, and forever is, and the instant
is, insatiable.
Then, walking back amongst dead leaves of winter
Then I cry out and am forced and must liven again,
Inventing then I deftly dart, defying lights,
Renewing how it seems, leaving in the sorrow-
Filled instant the memory behind, dropping the
Traipsed memories. Then I create. And then I
Am as a god, building everything, for we
Become gods, for what is there not made by us,
Not painted by our tainted touch, not mastered
Extensively, not patterned by our sight? That time,
That memory none can hold, I hold it. I forget my
Godliness, I drop aside my immortality, my world slips
And black and white and red and green golden
Rises the sun free at once of me, free at once of
Limits and being, tearing cyclically through all of the
Infinity, ending it—finally the finite, defined, true!
Bringing me through is night. Night is all encompassing
Dark spreading lofts of morvery entrapping and arresting
Broadly, for one— truth asserts itself and lets men fear. They
Tremble, and I laugh. I laugh, for what in the real is fear?
What feelings persist beyond me? What evil can be in
A light not mine? Free of me, I can dance in the cool
Darkness, and run with the demons that call to me in the
Night, knowing well no holds tie me fast to the ground,
No mortality lingers where I have tread, no hold, no hold
Can rest the universe itself, which grappling, blistering,
Last comulting rises and is me, confirmed, boundless.