All education and habit
instigation occurs in time used
coincidently with life's constant,
kudzu will to make life livable in senses

only one fully functional can make, ah,
and we know mankind can become broken,
fail to function for any good use imaginable,

while using carnal mind made excuses to steal,
take away the ra' effort of the tamer of horses,

rob the seed stored for the sure and certain
cold to come, watch the birds flying south,

wonder where the wild goose leads, indeed,
come, and see, let this mind be in you, linked
to all a mortal has time to think twice, once
in slack jaw awe, as we appear in thought, once

aha, we may imagine, all alike, first knowing, yes,
that works, that has utility to me, see, I know,

how to catch a rabbit, and take it's life, for me,
and my baby who shall soon see winter, first,

and play for a minute in cold, cold snow,
not giving any thought to the bunny fur.

I miss my old hair clippers
I had them since before I got sober.
at the rehab near Philly, I would trade rollies for head shaves
until I learned that I could shave my own head without a mirror.
that was ok with me,
I saved on tobacco but I still had my cup and bowl out.
like an anchorite begging for alms by the road side.
some 3000 shaves of the head later and I don’t need a mirror
for much anymore.
I set the old clippers aside and I don't know where they went to.

When I wake up the sun is going down.
I do my shopping beneath the cold chalice of the moonlight,
cold glistening, somehow still reflecting of the Sun
even though
I said goodbye from
my window to the early evening dawn
9 hours before the burning
of the midnight oil.
I chant and ring my bells
so I don’t drift back to sleep.
but I can still smell sulfur so I
Aum and pray and ring the bells a little louder.

I found God on the carpet once.
It only took me 14 hours to pick through
every crystalline crumb that glistened in the kitchen light.
the next morning I had a half soup spoon full of the Almighty
but the hook and the plunger swallowed Him whole
and with haste turned me back to dust.

sometimes I’ll make a to-do list
with every strike of the pen another performance for
the bushels and the bones,
I like grocery shopping at night.
normally there are only a few souls and
old drifters wandering about and
they usually keep their eyes pointed down.
sometimes I practice small talk
with the clerk,
endeavoring to exchange appropriate
amounts of eye contact throughout.
personalities and performances and
I am so tired of caring.

when I’m waking up the sun is going down
but monica gave me a hand full of vitamin D and
a fire in the hearth and
sometimes the world
Is like a seven pointed centrifuge.
the heavy particles are all hitting the
chalice walls and I’m spinning so fast
all I can do is look up and breathe.

The swallows are singing swooping for the
Black Madonna and the Popes of the white smoke.  

God jumps from the sky to the spoon to the corkscrew
and L/L research put up a new tweet:
more from Hatonn about the bitter wine, and
this being quite a dense illusion for the thickness of the veiling,
and the chakras being tuned like strings on a harp
to be plucked by the Hands of the Creator.

This isn’t the density of knowing
as faith is the evidence for things unseen.
I’m still half blind but I can hear them chanting and
I’m just this side of single pointed thought but
facebook keeps breaking my ****** attention.
so I stand here
awoken to  the sun going down over the highway
and the snakes winding up my spine
and a mouth full of Vitamin D.

fire in the nighthouse
a lemon in the
fridge

you stand among the
bloodshed , legs in
the forest -
why haven't you
left yet ?

there is no council
to seek , no wise
matriarch , nor a hermit
living deeply - there never
was , it's just you
brother , just you sister

you must find your
own way through

you are lost among
all these copies -
people living their lives
as other people

people following people
following people long dead

what momentum stalls
your true spirit from
moving here ?  what limits
bare their teeth as you approach ?

ra ! ,
you are fury and
wrath and recompense

you are cool green
intellect piercing through
the light of the
stars

you are deeper hues
hidden behind blindness

you are death
reaping life and you
are here now ,
ra !

The serpent represents the form of evil,
Some say, at least, during certain times.

He says it doesn’t.
Apophis,
Destroyer, World-eater,
Embodiment of the end,
Claims it never did.

Imagine, a creature of chaos,
From a time where moments were indivisible.
There are no seconds or minutes, no beginnings nor ends,
Only an eternity within itself.
Is it any wonder that it took the form of a snake,
The one creature that can devour its own tail
And pretend to last forever.

Envision the beginning, that fleeting second of novelty,
A swirling, chaotic mass of all that could be,
Being pulled apart into bright stars
That burned imprints onto the serpent’s eyes.
Now witness the first things that aren’t you
Blasting themselves apart, their remains flung far and wide.

Our sun, our Ra, isn’t the first he’s seen,
But it will be the one he devours,
Holds in his mouth so that its yellow brilliance
Never bubbles to bloated red
And swallows up that sweet blue
That hides within its rays.

Our race, and our ancestors
Who like him swirled out of the chaotic sea,
Are the first to watch the stars and see
The way nothing lasts forever.
Why wouldn’t he want to hold us in his belly?
We could exist forever, never wither, never rip apart,
Never be alone in eternity.

Aches. Pains.
When does it stop?
From one year old,
all I endure was aches and pain.
Stiff. Crack. Pop. Joint.
The words to my disease.  
Rheumatoid. Arthritis.

From a child,
all I was told to take these pills to help the pain.
The pills that were suppose to be magical as I was told as a child.
Magical pills to take the ease of the aches and pain.

Time has pass, as I am older than now and still dealing with the aches and pain.
I learned to not let those words define me but reshape me.
Make me whole and accept that I am me.
I am stronger today than I was yesterday.
Yes the pain doesn't stop
But what I can control is my thoughts on my disease.
Stiff. Crack. Pop. Joint.
Those words will follow me to the endless of time
But
It will not control me.

Do you smell that?
Drifting into your windows is the perfumed scent of rebels
Dancing in the flames
Open up your nostrils just a bit more
Take it all in
Take back your senses
We've built pyres two hundred feet tall and set them aflame for you to feast your eyes upon
Take back your senses
Your sense of self
Hear the sounds of our rejoicing,our war cries giving way to songs of peace and hopes for the future that we scream into the abyss
The abyss that we shall conquer
Once you take back your senses
Your self
Your beautiful self
Take your future back into your hands
It's time to shape it yourself
Become you
Take back your senses
Your sense of self
And we'll sever the head of the serpent that guards the cages imprisoning our understanding
Come take back your senses,your sense of self
Just outside your door
The invitation is carved in stone
Bring out your dead
BRING OUT YOUR DEAD
BRING OUT YOUR DEAD!!
There's a party going on outside
And everyone's invited

Lights
spring forth
break the horizon
fight back the darkness
usher a way home
give me hope