The first time my third eye opened, the world was horrifying to view.
I could see my entire life, each mistake glaring at me and pounding against my psyche.
Every good moment collided with the bad,
The future turned inside out and bathed me in a gory downpour of the viscera of moments to come.
Now, each time the sparks and fires start in my brain, it reopens
And with this golden eye of the blind gods, I'll stare into everyone's souls.
I'll watch all of you and judge you by the contents of your very essence.
I'll see you in the way you refuse to see yourself.
Because if people see what they want to see,
I've made it my duty to see the truth in all of it's slithering glory
As it encircles the apple, and beckons me forward.
Dreams shifting visions of reality being bent directly into my cerebellum.
The day's are Sunny, and the air is hazy with good energy.
The sun vanishes and night encapsulates my psyche.
I hear splinters of conversations.
Fragments of discourse hurled into my dreamscape from their proper position in time.
This has happened before.
No. It has not happened before this moment, not in reality.
But being given this gift comes with the curse of the unknown;
Knowing what is to come
But never having a due date.
The room buzzes around me as I sit and stare into the wall stretching into eternity before me.
The flesh mannequins grin they're crooked and deceitful smiles, and speak in encoded tongues.
I read the lines between them and their words,
Slicing context from the arteries like my box cutter draining my poisoned blood.
The voice whispers for me to leave them to their own repetitive stories
And to isolate myself from the prying eyes of God.
As I close my blind eye, and rip open my third one,
The brain fires begin.
I live within the cataract blinding God
A bloodline sharpened and honed by years of misfortune,
Until it comes to a fine and refined point like the tip of my jawbone blade.
I am the prophet.
The future seer from a family destined to muddy the waters.
I stare into the eyes of the abyss until its gaze falls into my trap
And my third eye opens
Revealing what will be in visions from days yet to come.
Vi una columna de luz
Más brillante que el sol
Directamente arriba de mi cabeza
Y esta luz gradualmente
Descendió hasta descansar
Al reposar sobre mí la luz
Vi en el aire arriba de mí
A dos personajes
Cuyo fulgor y gloria
Uno de ellos me habló
Llamándome por mi nombre
Y dijo, señalando al otro:
Éste es mi Hijo
"I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me….
When the light rested upon me I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air.
One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing to the other—This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!"
- Joseph Smith, The Prophet
I give you
the fire of the soul
The blood of the earth
The dust of the aether
In the gasp of the known
A liquorious draught
That tickles the throat
Where providence sat
And closed heaven's door
Spittle and drivel
The fleshy sacks grovel
Clawed his nails
at the sand
Cast amidst the stars
And Not moving very far
And Gamorra absorbed
Before that perpetual want
HERE, AND NOW!
the scent of battle on the wind
Sulfur and toxic gas
Humans behaving mad
Leeward of the path
Struggling and daft
Illiterate and crass
Fallow fleshy sacks
I am in love with it all!
A raving lunatic with
romantic comedic timing
And no taste for time
But on the feast of the bone
And savored moment
I will be alone!
Except for you, poor soul
Who reads in these words
Your own fated toil
I miss you, I love you, from even beyond the pale
My words float in the clouds
And scrape the sentimental trails
Back home once again,
Maybe find my next trend
Or Hear HIS next sermon
And go tell a friend.
So call me the false prophet,
As I spin lies for us both to believe,
As skilled as the spiders I'm scared of;
Watch as I weave a web just for you,
My Baby Blue -
Believe it's custom made;
It's you, It's you, It's you,
I'll be your holy trinity,
Sit tight on your pedestal
And I'll make it spin;
Take you round and round
The usual circles.
I know these roads well,
So I drive them fast
I love the speed as it makes you sick;
I'll wait till your dizzy in the rush of it
Love-sick with the smell of it,
And then I'll ***** you up.
So call me the false prophet,
As I spit sweet sentiments,
And fake futures.
Baby you should have known better,
Why would a person like me,
Change for a person like you?
He was not sending
He did not know even he was the messenger
He went to that cave
Called "herraa" cave
To be away of the world
To look after the natural world
To discover if the world was created
By only power and God
His nation worshipped statues
360 statues with days of moon year
To approach them to the only God
The true is when one increases his faults
He searches away from his God
Trying to get a way and method
To get his God forgiven his worst
He forgot that his God accepted one
Who discovered that he did a wrong
Mohamad sent a lone
To see the outer of the world
And to hear the inner sound
Until a great creature appeared
He made a strong hung
Mohamd felt his chest was collapsed
Mohamd said," I can't"
Mohamad was illiterate
The creatures hung him again
The sweat ascended as rain
Telling him read
Mohamad said," I can't read"
In the meaning of the talk
The creatures did again
Saying," read ,
Read with the name of the God
Who learnt with the pen"
As the Al arak surat said
Mohamd went with great shock
Saying," cover me, hung me
His lovely and honest wife met
With great mercy and kind
Telling you God will not let you down
To be continued
mohamad was sent to guide all the creatures to the holy power wo created the world
I asked God—standing; lying prone tonight
Tears made visible God's throne tonight
Mi'raj—so God raised Muhammad to Skies
Then don't tell me, Lord is alone tonight
Love turned hatred—this is not her act
God! Who turned her heart stone tonight?
Ah! Holy anxiety—I am gruelled—By God
With teary eyes and hollow bone tonight
The prophet was waking up
Asking his God to guide the gentiles
He met them with great happy
As they were rich and masters
While he met the poor speedy
The God blamed him for this act
He returned and smiled to the poor
As the guide with the hand of his God
The God told him not blame his act
As the only and only fact
The guidance was the hand of the God
So he did not blame your act
You do your effort
And the rest at your God
the mercy of the prophet was obvious for all people as the sun