The pendulum is a bull shark.
The hour of the savior is a pregnant bride's swan dive into the water.
The mighty mile is a figure 8 in the scoot of
non slop socks across the bare linoleum.
Blood and bright are the redness of the blanket.
divine terror at one hart beat per hour.
Finger nails green and black against a back drop
of the brightest, bluest eyes you've ever seen;
deep pools of liquid light that will shine when least expected.
And the obligation isn't one at all,
for when i breath in,
you breath out.
And when I gave consent 1000 years ago times 10-
you performed the exorcism under the shroud of my amnesia
and the spotted light from a crystal disco ball.
Shards of light moved upon the face of all the space between the stars.
My heart was in the highlands but now its in your hands.

Where is the white stone?
Perhaps the slate of my mind blanked with lye
is the printing press of the new name I've been given.
If you've been told you will forget, or be unable to pronounce
lest the one sided blade of your tongue be exposed.

The sword of my mouth
the synagogue of Balaam
The stumbling blocks of lust and impotence
the double bladed tongue of fire lashing against the sky.
The tragedy of Jezebel, a forgotten angel of God.
The Right Cross of Consciousness and the seal of the matrix.
One person out of 7 billion and change.

He who has an ear hears the spirit and the pulse.
He who holds the hand gestures is a light house
he who's feet are hammered bronze will hold the Light.
He who holds a pillar bears the weight of his own saga
he who is lukewarm in hes dealings holds sulfur in his mouth
and i quote
"He who has an ear, let him hear what the spirit says to the Toad."

Hand motions in the pattern of a cross
and a baptism from a few yards away.
Early morning in a suggestive state and he was
honest about what he saw, and how he feels.

Traps laid in the ether
long - long ago.
the bread crumbs are the blades of
serrated knife edges if the red shroud is
allowed to veil our vision.

But it is not
for the garment is worn loose.
And before the children of God
discovered blue dye,
the sky was a searing violet.

Eyes to the east and the keys of
death and Hades hung from his tongue
as his face burned with the fire of 10,000 suns.
His flare for the drama is an American quality
and his feet were forged of bronze.

Chop wood, carry water,
channel Ra.
Overtones over the undulations of Nun,
where the first man stood quite
apart from his father.
The cattle of Ra poured forth from his eyes and
thus he ruled over what he made.
Red frequencies in the dark are
strung outside of time -
the mana by which energy makes art.
I cannot look toward the Black Octave…
bad cymatics in the Red Resonant Year.
I’m barking at the Blue Tetrad.
The indian guides couldn’t tell if it was
Comanche or wolf.
They remained still for quite a long time.

By: Jordan Gee

Never ask "Are you a happy mirror?",
I did this mistake once,
Now I brush my teeth in front of smartphones.

love is a symbol
words are symbols twice removed from reality
and they are road signs,
pointers if you will
to that which lies beyond and
between and behind
and you can see it in the light
and Nietzsche saw it in the void and
Hamilton saw it in the venom.
you can see it in the white noise in the Lo-Fi.
you can hear it in the Vajrayana pearls.
drive behind the Diamond vehicle and ride inside
the slip stream.
sit behind the Bon funeral Priests and it says:

“Children of the Hologram - do not make me a martyr.
your kings will make of me an effigy
it will turn the Diamonds into paper but that is not my Will.
you’ll chew on discs of gold and that will be your King.
Children of the Hologram - my words are not my own.
it calls to us from the place of light.
when energy is at rest it is dark and the dark is good and time is a 1000 petal lotus.
at times you’ll encounter evil.
Remember: that is your own self you behold before you.
she is afraid and he is alone and its timepiece is a flat circle and round and round it goes.
only you can see him because only you made her and you made the light in which you see
but images cannot see.”

there are signs
there are those who have been before.
heed their warnings. Feed the Bodhisattva
your kings will burn them and your
kings will make effigies.
Disregard.
Overlook.
look to where the words point
you wrote them
you’ve been here before
there is light coming through the leaves and the branches.
the Japanese have a word for that