I burned the sentinel at the edge of my kingdom
It drifted to the earth in ash
And mingled with the butterflies
Catching the wind of their migration

Danger loomed on the horizon
And we saddled up to face the storm
For facing us down, descending from a distant future
Was the death of all mankind,
Gray and looming,
A wall of cloud behind which the
Stars no longer shone
Extinguished with the rest of universe
As we willed it to be,
In the fires of our egoism and despair

Swirling colors without names and sounds
What is this madness that we have found?
Feet barely touching the sky and the ground
Looks like I'm Philosopher's ****** all around

See that great saucer up in the sky
Hear how it whirs like an insects sigh
Signal them down so they'll give us a ride
And we can all finally see what's inside

What do you hear by the full moon's light?
The chanting of shamans on the solstice night
Follow the drumming and join in their rite
I'd say it's our destiny, alright

We're now Eleusinian women and men
The greatest adventure's about to begin
The galaxy's huge, and we're off to the ends
But the path isn't up and away, it's within!

I bled to be the rainwalker
Talking downwind, stalked by shadows, the night periodically erupts abruptly disrupting peace of mind and leaves behind the ears of corn that would expand with **** to what we now know as the sacred substance, understand this and we'll move on from this station, the hatred that makes us complacent, no directions can bee seen in green painted on the inside of our eyelid
But we did see them, when inner illumination activated the
Glow-in-the-dark properties that so impressed us coming down from the frozen mountain
Into the valley of golden fish worship,
Demons manifest in gargoyles,
Speaking through sages
Becoming animated in the full moon
Loony Toon ecstasy destroying bridges back to the sun worship
Which sees itself reflected in an empty black sky

essential radiance wilts and fades
In the light and halo of propane tank explosions
Dark cold nights spent rocking back and forth on the edge of a dream
Only knowing in hindsight that the forgotten question
Was what brought us here in the first place

phases come in and out of tune
Their lunar frequencies alive with you, you sit and open up the case all day, we let the cold air tighten up our powdered skin, the holes we've bored into the raincloud stick us in the neck,

Join hands with wisdom
extinguish dominion, combine and refract the remainder, destroy the big time dog-catchers.
hungriest of all was the Cat whose puzzled look of shame diverted your eyes while he disappeared into a higher vibratory frequency, which became color and sound syntesthesia
Blending seamlessly with the broken windows through which were heard vague memories of forgotten  dreams, the shouts and rhythms quite audible but each syllable indistinguishable

Unrealities       can
                  now        be                         held true
Because every
               bodyevery
                            day is stuck in one
When one reality is projection screened
Shining straight into the eyes
It's blinding, luciferic
                      Floating up and away
Into void
   Where safety and utter loneliness are assured
While even as we
                    close our eyes
                              disproving boogiemen
They clamber around making changes and destroying lives along with you
    Your unseeing feet
        Crushing the innocents
            Beneath a comforting rug
                 That spares our soles
                     The pain of walking on shattered bone

Following the points of lines firing from the pupils of whiches and witches
Enrichéd and stiffened to stone
Has dragged me down to the bog and I stink like a dog and I live a dog's life too
Circling myself and waiting for the invisible a'ni himu to happen to me without a statement

I don't know Being
I don't know it in itself of itself
Some told me it spoke with the voice of a child, some destroyed them-
Selves dressing up flowers and archways in those orders
And cornering us ants at the intersection which creep crawls
Crazily down from its
Geographic space and happens to face the way yr sitting
Eating meat or drinking tea
And bam he flips and crushes you
And what do you do
How can it be
When do you know it was your destiny?
bursting open your skull on the sharpest brick beside the softest memory
Of a 42nd birthday of the end of a dream

Even though
The true meaning of these events
Is not the one to which I cling
I will not stop believing
That it may end up that way
I will not stop composing verse
In ode to what I feel
And when the sacred meeting
Comes to pass and isn't fulfilled
I'll be relieved to find that I
Did not act on my will,
For as I know too well, I haven't
Quite the strength
To manifest desires,
But thankfully it's simple
To find some religious rationalization
To limit ourselves
And liberate our experience

Let out my ego and sense of order this comes from beyond this comes from the me between me if I listen I may hear it speaking, it's sleeping but talking and rocking, not still, and perhaps it awakens, perhaps it will open its eye but we mustn't depend on the idea that once he has opened his eye the whole dream of the world will just fade like my dream tomorrow morning which I already know I'll forget, like specific angles and perspectives of specific places in space and time that have slipped away but once in a while break through to consciousness
Like the sliding breakaway walls of Timber Drive elementary school
Or the rippling pond into which I fell and the old smile and laugh of my flesh and blood rescued me and held my body afloat in the air for a moment; and once I was the proud owner of a wind powered hovercraft, another invention spilling out onto the table of attention like the actual pig intestines the popular girl's parents used in her science fair project, the one that dragged on until the last monkey refusing to be locked up with the windows 98s in the archaic computer lab was tranquilized and convulsed on the gym/cafeteria floor in front of the PTA, who'd peed blood all down the front of their sweatpants; he was firing wildly hoping to commit suicide by zookeeper
Not knowing that humanitarian laws would prevent him from achieving his bliss, for the monkey knew as the Gnostics did that to bring a child into this black iron prison is a sin.
Did the Jonestown Kool-aid free them from the prison? Do they now walk among gods within the kingdom of the heavenly spirit? None shall know until the 13 crystal skulls are re-assembled and total gnosis emanates to the people in globe-spanning shockwaves.