By dumb luck our toes have kicked the dust from remnants, mysteries of the Ancients.
Sandblasting time has reduced their instructions for miracles down to perplexing sketches,
Littering a roofless sun-baked labyrinth of echoes.

Science in Genesis?  To be brief, just one example:   Turn the pages to
God broke off Adam's rib and created Eve.
Crowded centuries' have defected over this one in utter disbelief, perhaps you as well.

But analyzing the ancient Hebrew hieroglyph, by letter, by word, by connotation:
within a circumferential envelope, an exterior covering, protecting, shelter
to break off one of the involutions of him
the fixed form, configuration, exterior appearance, animal substance
in repetition, or doubled    (thus a spiraling winding)
into the action of shaping, and the other the object of this action.

Did Moses learn about cellular DNA from his Egyptian royalty pharaoh-teachers?
or was this observation divinely bestowed, a vision in the burning bush?
To describe God's breaking and altering part of Adam's spiral blueprint,
Moses tried to steal electric fire for his goat-herding brethren.
Either way, translators scratched their collective heads and wrote "Rib."

Then, so that humanity would not be alone, God created "Eve"
(But btw, her word actually writes out as Aisha )
Which does not translate to universal woman, Moses repeats that several times.
It translates to a companion, auxillary force, the intellectual woman of universal man,  
The Power and the Act in Will.
Now unique among animals to imagine complexities and bring them about.

With this Creative Volition, Adam becomes a shadow of and a companion for God the Creator.
Moses gave this creative ability a feminine aspect, paired with logic's masculine.
(Not only did he describe our very cells, he understood our minds' anima and animus.)

Does this restore faith, or shake it?  
Sweet on the tongue, but how to digest it all?
And what about the snake?
A serpentine looking hieroglyph, one meaning among many is leaving God's Will.
And if one does, life become difficult, hard labor.

So how do translators pack so many meanings which they don't even fully comprehend,
into a smaller language?   pick one, maybe two meanings:
adapt pictorial and symbolical highlights into an Allegory,
populated with Ribs, Apples, and Snakes...discarding the literal.
The organic sphere of activity = a garden
sentient and temporal  =  basic sensual desire
anteriority of time  = morning      
matter in travail  =  a tree.
Feminine Creativity paired with Masculine Logic  =  "she" is a helpmate.

History will have to apologize,
The new patriarchs couldn't accept Woman with such an equal trait,
Interpreting Allegory literally for use in a power struggle,
Blaming "Her" for their own ignorance,
Bestowing only on her the wayward's punishment of difficult labor. (childbirth).
and having already edited out Yahweh's wife.....
(oh, gratefully a different poem.)

I've barely explained   four   words,   but what do I know, this amateur philosopher?  
Fabre D'Olivet said it best:
"language, the ineffable language.
Those whose dull glance, falling upon these pictures, these symbols, these holy allegories,
saw nothing beyond,
were sunk, it is true, in ignorance;
but their ignorance was voluntary.
From the moment that they wished to leave it, they had only to speak."

Got the Covid shot.
Got the word that I have no cancer.
Got the will to form a
door
into this day far in our future, from then,
just
a moment ago, it was now, and
some how you  
knew ex- out
action to {perience hap}
change the time
to your now, my future and my now, your past.

just that fast/

--- lickity split, {as if it never needed meaning}

Any whole time invested in an old oath
to tell the truth,
the whole truth, and nothing but… when you pause

what comes next is ever, and
the state of never is
unattainable from here.
---
I know a guy,
he deals in evil, the idea, scare-tactics, terror, horror
all that
Lovecraft literal realm, words may lead a mind to let
be
a bit, a while, not a whole time, but
a bit

a par-sec or a plancksec, or so, you know,
a little bit of time,

taken as granted for now.
Are you tested,
proven, reused and re
tested? Experience is something more than
a novice mortal can claim. Honest, sharpenedest point,
the life unexamined is worth more than
the life unlived.

Okeh. You live in these lines, this is the literal book
life is…
along these lines, it
just is. Really, the nextifity can never **** the was,
and the was can never reach past
now
-- the junction, re
conciliation all pairs re
sounding harmonious ohhhhhs and ahhh,
yess
yes, we do know knowing itself is good.
How did we imagine
knowing good and evil, the difference, was separation
from the way through life
in truth,
with no added sorrow?

See, truth is,
…Death has no sting.
But, you gotta do it twice,
sorta…
it's a kludge, what can I say.
Truth functions fully now,
lying can never hold you,
person-you, dear reader you, lying
can never subject you to ******* for fearing death.

You may cease being after your final idle word is working right,
but no mortal really knows.

Hell is a mortal imagination, as is purgatory and limbo, et al.
As a mortal of our sort thinks in its core, CPU,
so it is… Mac or PC. {Joke, kidding… it is a division,
elite sorting division, elite
mechanisms
in the collected subconscious ifery per
white lit apple where there was
a rainbow,
yes
yes
I remember.
inanely great

aha- I know - I was tricked
- who told me I was naked?
signaling the same bite,
knowing good and evil and the connection
at the chthonic level of life,
where roots and fungi merge and share
information,
no more
no less}

the more you know the less you don't, but don't
be
deceived, your reading genius is a gift, the eye that sees, the ear
that
hears, all the senses sensed as a nation might
sense
us-ness in all the inhabitants of the atmosphere -- whosoever…

-- you paid no price, yet truth you don't think you know
draws you to
sneer at a thought that we ought fear death,

after all the virtual nexts…
really
deep mythic revelation festers
pops
The totally Disneyfied home of the future… from an Amazon
or-if-art-if-ice,  Marvel Universe where unbelief
is released… almost like books

The Age of Ultron
is set to rumble with
Enuma Elish?

Who'da thunk it? The oldest of stories,
swirling to gether,
all but one,
the good one, truth the trait tendency in any
given word
made up in minds since
Enuma Elish,
the surviving story, for a seeded cultural embodiment,
a mind made of us,
we, the artists and the art observant, seeing as we wish,
thinking as we may, if there is a way.

You? you think life is funny,
but not fun.
No fun for no reason play?
Nay,
they say, they said in the final days of the iron empire,
while the ants steadily absorbed the scent
of trusted friend, and the marching ants selected on edge-
wise vectors,

to copy'n'paste, past to now, nope… no match, but
watch…

spread all you ever knew, one thing thick, like lipids
reflecting ever before
or something… sorry, think gaspumps on the lake, at sunset.

That beautiful film on the water, ain't good.
But the beauty is. Ants feel sensibly, the whole mass
of ants,
the message ants send that says we do not **** each other,
humans are learning that now.

One at a time. Bit by bit.

Called to be the sluggard, as an actual ant,
in a colony the size of California,

we imagine you think
with stars as reference points,
being photon tied to you, and all whoever, who
considered the ant,
after a great course on esteemation of ever lasting worth.
Effectual
communication
with comforters sent to comfort not terrorize…

consider the message: Consider the ant, thou sluggard,
consider her ways and be wise.

Right. Fabre said, or is recorded in the 1916
current opinion magi-
zine:
"... I should like to see a few small facts."

Years along this trail and we were unaware
of warez we might imagine in a marvel usiverse, an usity
of me and thee,
word and pen,
surface and ink,
what do you think? how many messages fit on the head
of a tack?

A pin? Ist that the proper imagination? Do children
among the elite
ever see a pin,.. perhaps some ultra-elite see tailors,
we all see them on TV, dressing James Bond,
or a bride in white, chalking stitch marks

for the future… in that reality,
the next scene,
all the sewing done, all the pins put away, save one.

Stick to the plan. Tack this one on your clue wall.
Every 2021 seeker has faith in the pattern
emerging.

As if the words rise from the page and you know
none mean anything you may never know.

These are beyond Ultron,

these wild old man insights on olden ………..

Back in the ant den, we imagine interpersonal feeler-
a touch and all we know is known to all,
ahhh
it feels good to know
all I know is now known to all I know, in ant level knowing.

We can do this.
We have done it all our lives,
step into the scene, as an extra.

An extra ant of the 40% who have no care,
need no practice in any ant-craft,
and - seem to serve as assurance
needful for the peace of mind we use as invasive species,

the super-colony survives on peace within,
this is new, this is us, as ants
having certain tasks to keep the climate in the soil,
perfectin the motives of beauty.l

salt from distant seas
subtile tastes to tie the tongues to good to know,

yes it has long been so, the mouth tastes what comes out.

And flesh is a feeling spirits must live to know,
one may never
pretend to have been, without dying once,

minimum,
try the spirits. See did they ever love a lie?

An imp once asked me, when I was 72,
a little younger than I am in your now,
if I escaped Christianity,
how did I rest so peacefully staring death down.
The imp asked, not me, so that is technically not a quest
ion sufficient to warrant a full days wage of sin,

disconnect…
total lost the thread, mazed in the face, hands up, drop
everything…

call it art.
Crazy,
who says crazy is evil if it lives in the bubble
where ants are making peace, and
poets are given truly magic-tech
to stitch stories
to times.

Attenborough called the world to consider
The Ant… as had Solomon, it's been said.
And I heard, but I understood not:
then said I, O my Lord,
what [shall be]
the end of these [things]?
And he said, Go thy way, Daniel:
for the words [are] closed up
and sealed till the time of the end.

pop

Escape? Nay, knave, nigh-ifer misser
of myriad points
of light,

I escaped the name of god for good.
True,
let good be true and every man a liar,
as mortal instant man
remains

a we, at least, very least, I'm sure,
of me and thee, you and I,
lefts and rights and tops and bottoms
fronts and backs

we be in time…
who rah, the hero, uh oh hubris mystery,
curios sort
who wishes to know
the way of the blade parting soul from spirit,
in a
bit of reality we all believe, some how,
does exist,
soul and spirit realms, we all imagine these, we do.

Sniff, if my myth had babies with yours, watchathank?

Date written: June 20, 2024
yisselakh@myyahoo.com

The Cicada

By: Yisselakh

Intro:

Therein lies the rub
You're mistaking the grubs
You can't even tell between the cicada and the wasp
When it's so obvious
So obvious

Chorus:

Who's the singer, the summer bug
Who's the singer, the summer bug
Content with its own love
Even if its something perhaps
Only he'll love

Verse 1:

And you still think you know
The stranger of the olive grove
The slacker shut out of the ant's abode
And we always think we are the ants
In these stories told
At least that's what's sold
At least that's what's sold
To us

Chorus:

Who's the singer, the summer bug
Who's the singer, the summer bug
Content with its own love
Even if its something perhaps
Only he'll love

Verse 2:

You looked in the pond
And felt rather cross
This ant looks too much like a cicada
You feel it's too late to accept who you are
When you spend most your life lost
Doesn't the right way feel like the wrong path
Is this the fallacy of sunk cost

Bridge:

Unable to accept
Unable to accept

CODA Chorus:

Who's the singer, the summer bug
Who's the singer, the summer bug
Content with its own love
Even if its something perhaps
Only he'll love

Who's the singer, the summer bug
Who's the singer, the summer bug
Content with its own love
Even if its something perhaps
Only he'll love

Date written: June 23, 2024
yisselakh@myyahoo.com

Mantis

By: Yisselakh

Verse:

So you look above the hedge
And see the mantis on the edge
The waning sun shines through its silhouette
A sea of green perched beneath
The roaring storm of overcast red
The roaring storm of overcast red
The roaring storm of overcast red

Pre-Chorus:

And the little life
Oh so it oversees the other side?
Arms curved, and the eyes?
The eyes?
The eyes?
Piercing into the mind
Does the little dot lead
A sphere of truth or lies

Chorus:

For humanity patiently on this side
Of time, of life, of a metaphorical rhyme
What do you see from above us
What can you prophesy?
If he were the cicada perhaps
We'd know everything
Everything
Everything
But it stays so silent
Oh so silent
Oh so silent
So we can do nothing
Except keep dreaming
Keep dreaming
Keep dreaming

Repeat:

Pre-Chorus:

Ask the little life
Does it oversees the other side?
Arms curved, and the eyes?
The eyes?
The eyes?
Piercing into the mind
Does the little dot lead
A sphere of truth or lies

Chorus:

For humanity patiently on this side
Of time, of life, of a metaphorical rhyme
What do you see from above us
What can you prophesy?
If he were the cicada perhaps
We'd know everything
Everything
Everything
But it stays so silent
Oh so silent
Oh so silent
So we can do nothing
Except keep dreaming
Keep dreaming
Keep dreaming

CODA:

Is there an unshakable truth waiting of a sweet
Awakening
That, my child, my soul, the faithful and hopeless
We have to answer from within
Do you believe?
Do you believe?
Do you believe?

Date written: July 19, 2024
yisselakh@myyahoo.com


Glowworm

By: Yisselakh

Verse 1:

Oh what more is there to say
About the beetle with new clothes
About the beetle with a new name
This as close as a speck of dust
Can get to catch a star

Bridge:

I know it won't be far
I can see the sparks
And you know
I'll never stray from the path
And you know
I'll never stray from the path

Chorus:

So
Light the way
Light the way
Light the way

So
Light the way
Light the way
Light the way

Verse 2:

I must have been waiting
Since the dawn of days
As you hid within the tall grass blades
When the weary eyes of dusk sway
Blink between time and that eternal place
I'll see you ascend above this maze

Chorus:

And
Light the way
Light the way
Light the way

And
Light the way
Light the way
Light the way

Bridge 2:

Back to innocence, back to the ancient dream
And this time,
I'll stay
You'll stay
We'll stay
And see

CODA:

The wasteland of sorrow
We left behind
Ebbs away, fades away
In the light, with the night
In the light, with the night
Oh love of mine
Love of mine
Love of mine
Isn't this just divine
You and I
And all we love
For all of life

Date written: June 18, 2024
yisselakh@myyahoo.com

Sacred Beetle

By: Yisselakh

Intro:

The beetle climbs the wall of reality
Rolling the sun into place, into the sky of dreams

Verse:

So the beetle rolls around the Sun
Like in dust, our soul rolls around
And they say we're guided by the stars
Or is it our hearts
Or is it our hearts
Is it our hearts

Bridge:

Is this just poetry, is this just art
Is it really the truth of what we are
I'll never truly know
You'll never truly know
We'll never truly know

Pre-Chorus:

What the wise men say
The fools will never follow
If you say so if you say so
That's how they always go
That's how they always go

Chorus:

But when her heart of gold
Shines warmly on your mold
On countless fateful noons
Your heart and your soul
Your shell like sun upon the moon

Post-Chorus:

You'll know
You'll know
You'll know
And you'll believe
And you'll believe

CODA Verse:

So the beetle rolls around the Sun
Like in dust, our soul rolls around
Like they say we're guided by the stars
And all of our hearts
And all of our hearts
All of our hearts