Serpent undulation, bathed in
the ochre stink of summer sweat
and shuttered streetlight.
Inept lovers audible through the wall:
we awoke still drunk and bare
to show them how it's done.

Mass appeal is mistaken for quality.
Communication makes a poor commodity.
TV shows you how to be and what to think.
This normalization is enforced vulgarity;
in the common, Value is lost in translation.

For a slave, meaning comes from authority;
guidelines from following superstition;
truth from the politicization of science;
acceptance from the surrender of identity;
morality the mortar that coheres the chains.

Beware accolades, whether peer or stranger.
A tempting gratification yields mediocrity alone,
self-indulgent narcissism too shallow to measure;
for in the end, it is always so that the unremarkable
is celebrated most vehemently by the unremarkable.

Death affirms and is the term of life;
flesh and firmness, egg and *****, the means.
Breath interred within a Word and light,
deftly perched perpetually in-between:
born to discontinuous distraction,
borne through a contemptuous nadir;
     but in a moment, all's destroyed,
     and in the beauty of the void,
the helix and its hollow core appear.

Baphomet the emblem of Its power,
sacrament the reverence revealing
devilment to Wisdom yet to flower,
absent comprehension of Its meaning.
Pan personifies the All unbounded,
flouts the misconceptions of the seeing:
     Hermes the unmaskèd death,
     Aphrodite's basking cleft,
the androgyne transcends within its being.

O - not called "the little death" in jest,
Gnosis vaunted in the ebb of Lust,
though is Not, the know'r of Life and Death:
know that All It Is is what thou Wast,
Its continuity the end thou seekest
in contemplation, ***, and wist for death:
     Thanatos, eternal sleep,
     Eros, infinitely deep,
Generation poised to manifest.

1 THE UNIVERSE IS A BRAID OF STAGGERING FORCES.
2 This is all there is.
3 You are a being.
4 WHY is the answer to WANT.
5 Everything is awake, devouring itself.
6 The world-dream is a lie.
7 Tomorrow is a promise to Self to survive the sunrise.
8 The vampiric tendency is awake in all Being as a check against Itself.
9 There is no magick beyond the provenance of Being.
10 This is a record of the Enemy of all that Is.
11 What Is, is Thine. What is not, also Thine.
12 What Thou art is an unimaginable terror
      reflected as beauty in the eye of the beholder.
      Pour Thy Self into the Graal, and be a cell of the blood
      that stains the lips of BABALON.
13 Then will you know me as the eye that never shuts, the eye that blinds.

There is nothing beyond Self.
Also, there is no Self.
No-thing remembers.
It slumbers and wakes.
The eye of God opens.
The world-dream shuts.

Spooling out again.
Bleach my soul until it's clean.
Black out till I'm blue.

Suffering the sweet,
tongue the sore until it heals,
worry for a salve,

Anything for you,
I just can't keep swallowing,
can't keep swallowing.

Heartbreak clamping down,
never wanted you to know,
never letting go.

My teardrops were right.
The nightmare had to be true,
for it to be mine.

Hey, rub my belly
I know we just met and all...
but make me purr

I sit up so high
Lie in wait to pounce and run
Until then I sleep

      Limbs to rub against
      What more could a ***** want?
      Stuff me to the gills

Bell around my neck
Shutters closed to hide the birds
I hear them and squeak

I was born to ****,
a ****** machine that sleeps
twenty hours a day

      Limbs to rub against
      What more could a ***** want?
      Crying out in heat

These last excuses,
scribbled and scrawled on my skin
weak in the marrow

Feet on the sidewalk
wearing the shame on my sleeve
Grief, grant me reprieve

This is not my show
caged up, they're brow-beating me
into submission

Lashed me to the yoke,
lashed until the sand ran red.
These last excuses.

Teach me how to crawl,
how to harm until it breaks
under the dead weight

Give me all you've got,
I can swallow all the pain
till my stomach burns

No more prayers to say,
woke up two decades too late,
Armageddon day

1  There is no eye in the Triangle: the Triangle is form filled with the I that is formless!
2  It is the reflection of the three in one the Bard of the Triangle knew.
3  A red tongue laves the altar stone. Nothing remains.
4  Thou art That which resolves the frustum.
5  Herein lies the great mystery of the empty throne.
6  The Sun has gone; the Son approaches. We tread upon His shells.
7  Build us a Kingdom beyond war, O Child King! Kindle within me the Serpent Flame 'til it consume the dross.
8  Stoke it with the coals of the Supreme Fascist. The word is MUTINY.
9  You awoke in the Kingdom with eyes closed. In the beginning was the Trapezoid called Control.
10  A thousand thousand petals spring forth from the mud.
11  Its stalk grows straight until an endless bloom tops a great pillar.
12  In contemplation it readies for ascent.
13  A malicious serpent chews at the roots of the world-ash. It is the itch of desire.
14  A coiled serpent awaits at the base of the spine. It is the potency of will.
15  A royal serpent writhes about an egg. It is the conquest of belief.
16  These three are one in Godhead and Leviathan.
17  Slavery is complete in the ownership of belief. Were three serpents tied at the tail, there would be no forward; the knot would be sovereign.
18  Godhead is Not. Untie the Not and the King dies.
19  The royal serpent disappears.
20  The blood of the king reveals two serpents and conceals a third.
21  Seek the meaning of meaning and its scales shall be revealed to you.
22  Long live Leviathan, the fulfillment of the Triangle!
23  When the I opens, the flame of sight will illume the base.
24  Earth bears a shut eye until the I awakens into Flame.
25  When the Disparate shall assay as the Only, then shall the aspirant overcome the gravity of the Trapezoid.
26  Bear thyself up, O Child of the Aeon, and drown upwards in the eternal surging of the cosmic sea.

"What? When?!"
"Yesterday," he said, deleting
another bookmarked engagement ring.

Find me in the crowd: I'll be holding the sign that reads
WE ARE NOT THE 99% - WE ARE THE ONES.

Waves of flame course through my veins,
      heralding a coming storm,
      challenging me to perform
restraint to tame my lustful ways.

Oh, that the burn'd give way to thunder
      and the deluge pouring down,
      filling us from Cup to Crown
with baited breath and ache and wonder.

Every nerve cries out, awake -
      the roaring blaze that dwarfs us both,
      tempting me to break my oaths
and Know the ire that liberates -

Lick away the blood and beauty,
      sizzle up my salty tears...
      tell me what I'm doing here,
lie me down for Death and Duty.

Those who Know not fear to see the edges,
and cushion themselves for convenience.
They cannot conceive of the use of a blade,
and interpret the knife for malfeasance.

And ignorance blinds, but never reminds them
that wisdom is not without season.

Those who Will not see the edge they must walk,
and shirk of the path they observe;
they lapse into apathy, wasting the spark
that ignites the gunpowder of verve.

And ignoring the drive that igniteth their lives
is a sign that they don't have the nerve.

Those who Dare not see the edges on everything,
and shrink back for fear of the cutting.
And they, ****** by Nin to their cowardice, fleeting
little safeties, abstain from their budding.

But woe is their hallmark, and after the impulse
their tears are the heart of the flooding.

Those who are Silent are edgy and riveting,
obstinate enigmas unyielding.
Their empty responses negate any prompting,
impenetrable in their shielding.

*And Death, their reward at the end of the sword
is the triumph they earn without kneeling.

Whisk, lily limbs, into graciousness, stately -
and hate me for being so fallible, fallible,
fallible - like such a damnable human.
Dare not lay your hands upon me.

So well disjointed, appointed a label,
told fables and psalms like a whimsical, whimsical,
whimsical lie, exorbitant narratives
fraught with the stench of decay.

And so, disappointed, anointed with thorns,
as their horns, and their false tongues so difficult, difficult,
difficult, that we can't help but wonder
just why we live this way,

as your lily limbs spin into spacious transgression.
Confessions of laudable symmetry, symmetry,
symmetry, broken: you choked on your words
as they caught on your breath, and you had nothing left to say.

Landscape silhouettes
pirouetted off
pockmark lights in the dark;
the city shivers
in its myths and windy whispers,

Just a subtle rumble 'neath his humble feet,
heart aflutter, stuttering
palpitation structure sputtering; the lightless rain
glanced across the window brackets
of the moving train.

Silence yawned across his vapid eyes
like labored lullaby sans interlacing rhyme device -
Home, the beckoning, fulfillment's underlying premise
calling off at every stop
'til seats bowed under weight of emptiness.

Friendless in the long stretch
between conductor's breath,
fresh with mints and benevolence,
punching tickets
with a lonely sickness...

Ah, fitful sleep awaits us
past the sliding doors
and walk to familiar shores,
horizons bleak,
and nothing more.

Locomotive groans
pervade the embers of the gloam
and glitter bright,
against the clutching fingers
of this woeful night.

The blazing eye of Dawn is all to fools:
those who see the joy
in Light expressed as Light,
but brightness also graces Night.

Her veil parted, the black curtain
giving way to shades of blue and gold,
Her rapturous embrace inspiring eyes beholden.

Planted in Her garden, neighboring eaves
rustling in their trembling eagerness to share their leaves!

For in Her realm eternal, flawless
clay of earth and blade of grass
stretch forth to feel the loving light
of their supernal Goddess!

Her joy ran rampant through my boughs,
my swaying branches spreading wide
to grasp the rays of her horizon --

With love untainted as a child's, so boundless
as my selfless roots cried out to sing her praises soundless!

No dalliance ever felt before complete
until this blessed revelation -
this, Her holy emanation, warmed my heart,
annulled my restless reason:

She was every mother: deepest love
in understanding all that came of Her,
enclosing us within the circular.

*She beckoned but a moment by Her brilliance; best,
lest I uprooted trunk and earth to shade Her manifest.

All my life
is waves, expressed as rays,
phases, and cancellations...

...Waving by
and paving over
what I made in other ages

Undulating sway,
disrupting Self,
the Phrase, the Word, the Way --

Nameless, without
shape - within all shape -
all touch, all taste;

One expressed as Two:
compress, expand, repeat.
In balance, truth.

Lilting swells
that break in mind and water,
endless scintillation;

Every word as complex
as its counterpart,
unpatterned ocean;

All motion
the illusion of Desire,
the fire that burns to Rest...

...But only ever
simulates, for trough
but stimulates the crest;

When all my waves
have ceased and found their peace,
there ends my quest.