Crashed sparks of the divine eked from the singularity unseen by zombies who flock to neon ****** dot rubble left in the beast’s wake
Deconstructed toys that stirred and held imaginations were tossed without loyalty in preference to increasingly depraved erogeneity
Dowsing rod in hand and reduced to indivisible essences, these mad sorcerers float blindly according to intuition
Vigorous flows that whip across this infinite unformed terror realm guide them
The struggle is immense but alchemists get to work, synthesizing slowly
To sift through it all impossible and unnecessary
Just begin
Take up this crud: sacred cow, earth mother, yin and yang, crucifixion
Exhausted vessels whose reverence is parodic
There’s no time for careful, sacred handling
Crash them together destructively
The unseen force adds itself and something new is produced material minds can’t predict
A magic object
Ethereal rainbows and new geometries
Hold it’s fire, blow on it
The wizard knows how to tend a flame without getting immolated
A new beginning is possible
Mud can be imbued with the spirit that’s been cast and sealed
Conduct disparate flows to unity
The sentience revealed will help
You’ve done your part
Slip beyond
Transcendents laying in the future will know and speak with you when time dissolves

Fresh from the incubator… we come out a box,
Newly born and eager to burn.
The doctor’s smack lights the wick,
A weak flicker is the start.

In his teens the wind bends the flame to go with the flow,
But flickering moments of dark then light
Teach it straight to grow
And that the way of shadows is not the way to go.

The steady flame now burns long,
Wide shedding light for many to follow.
But the etch of wax-runs on his face
Tell of many a hard year come and gone.

Now the wick is growing short,
As bent he leans upon a stick.
Once again the flame is weak… just a glow,
As dimly now he views the world.

Sadly it begins to flicker… crackle
His voice hoarse from years of shinning.
Finally down comes the cold dowser
And swiftly snuffs out the life.

Now only rises his spirit… a mere wisp of grey
As once again he lays waxen white… in a box.

With hands holding a Willow wand,
I seek to detect water's source,
flowing deep within the ground!
Exerting its will upon my hand,
energy exuded by water;s force
discloses where it can be found.

This gift, with which I was born,
brings blessed relief to those in need
of water, for it brings great satisfaction
when seen flowing from source to bourne,
as a consequence of my diviners reed,
which I regard as reward enough for my action.

For some, dowsing exudes a mystery,
possessed of an obscure magical property!
When water sought, is thereby detected,
The Rhythm of Life proclaims a victory?
Records show that way back in history,
Black Magic was seriously suspected!

So why am I possessed of this ability?
A gift, some think an arcane anomaly
that locates water, through my hands!
Dowsing that baffles watching spectators,
defies the efforts of charlatan imitators,
who’d benefit, from a force, no one understands!

Should you too, possess this cryptic force,
you’ll know dowsing, for hours perforce,
is most rewarding when success is reached,
and it proves an exciting moment for me
when The Rhythm of Life - water - runs free,
and its source is discovered and breached!

Rhymer.  March 21st, 2018.  

It was pure happenstance I learned I was a Dowser or Water Diviner back in 1960.  Have used it many times since.  Our present water source, comes from wells I discovered and wells dug in 1998. Always an awesome experience.  Ciao Rhymer.

In the still river of my heart

and the avenues of Past,

enlivened memories shall sleep no longer…



Welcome now the strongest tides

and cage every hesitation…

The dowser within picks up the rod

to lay a final gambit –

the source has all but disappeared.



And though this spring is well tried

it remains fresh to my hopes,

the fountain sits in me to collect many a depth

and hold such tremulous years to light.



So let the future be kind and bring forth

all manner of rich archives…



And share this common antidote

in our tender copious fate.

my agent grew nervous when he discovered
like the rising sun on a sea of shark fins
that one must gauge and become the gauge
what is it that heralds an improved model
claiming to have superior knowledge
my hospital masturbates immobilized patients
the cure rate is astounding
it’s all in how we conceive ourselves
the oil and tincture panaceas
were giving me intestinal upheaval
but my inner cephalopod still had
a couple of pots of ink in him
and swore by his mother's *******
when info comes a-knocking
best let it find a seat unaided
everyone rigs the game of perception
permanently defiled by propaganda
we all want to be authentic
so gimme the straight story for once
the world may not owe us a living
but it does owe us an explanation
I think it all has to do with
branching cascades and nested infinities
is it rain on the roof or radio static
reports are that it's a burlesque sitcom
there's a lady in the front row
bearing her profuse ******* at me
I am made dizzy and quickly hypnotized
turns out the dowser was right she’s KGB
and I'm hoping to be the lucky stud
that gets to climb her endorphin ladder
in an experimental courtship ritual
so we rubbed pudenda to dawn
and she let me hear her secret name
it's still secret
her guillotine blade warm and wet
cut through me like a 3 dollar car wash
must have been the stoning squad's day off
tarred and feathered instead
OK why 3 d's for you double meaning fetishists
I'll tell you but you must obey my commands
they are buried throughout this message
because 3 is the logo of the ta tas of Venus
and he'd rather be thundering back at Zeus
which got him everything he wanted
not so much money clothes concubines
since he didn't set out to establish

From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
an empire of invisible *******
but he was a free man
free to disintegrate periodically
which is why my advice is to keep
something for yourself no matter what