Iteration    

 

On a hunched back, the stones were carried

on a hex of a day a long ways away;

The map carved underneath one eyelid, 

the eye closed, not to lose the way

 

Armed with harm

free to roam the earth

as prisoner;

 

The trailing hair spoke of waterfall-sorrows,

The hearts tugged

Against the hooks, upon which

they were pierced 

Released

Re-leased 

Ancient as stories of lovelorn-fossils,

tucked in the folds of the hive’s shadow-mind

 

Come back to haunt the futures of Now 

Eternal returns of primordial thorns,

protrusions (almost) of safety

in a field that would otherwise empty 

of pain’s familiar 

⁃ hold 

……..Still 

for an Untold story to unfold

⁃ bend

      Mind’s  Will

as time 

from its cup is spilled;

As dread

from the cusp is poured; 

Drowned 

in the water’s fires 

 

As meaning

from a well is pulled;

As dreaming 

from life’s long steepened climb 

is lulled;

Even

as it still comes calling

crawling

scrambling 

and free falling --

 

Snaking

raking

un-coils

 

from its spool 

The guiding thread was still unwinding

sublime

in its Sickness Divine

 

The eye

that opened was piercing and bold

As cold was its armour, 

as warm was its ardor

encrusted stone

shielding a molten core

.

.

.

Sacred hologram of dreamscape  

               - What chance did YOU take? - 

Corporeal now for a penance to pay;

A beauty endowed 

with a horror

that drives

the boiling blood to icen; 

A pillar 

of granite-like lust 

to hold and collapse

The sky of a purest, 

tenderest reaching

of trust --

 

Broken by preaching

 

So this 

is Pain's familiar wish;

The Judgement’s apprentice 

ascended now, returns

With a verdict

distilled 

by the cycles of this churning wheel,

its wild and riled spinning

Un-real 

Surreal 

Its potter laughing madly

- Gladly I heard the cosmic roar, 

a tricksters-giggle hatchling  - 

 

Surely,

 

it is due… as the tides are 

long now pulled 

by the leash of the Moon;

But neither that nor this 

is made endless

Truly, 

The End is nothing to mourn

but to live

Fully,

 

And somehow Quenched 

in the bottomless pit of its wanting;

Drenched 

by shameless hope

in the clasp of its flame;

 

A merciless kindness….

 

As,

 

at long last,

with foot and heart still ever hardened 

from the arid length 

of this rope-burned-road; 

From the bowing prow;

From the arching bow

of this spine; 

The stones were carried 

and placed, 

as ever,

at the feet

 

Of

 

Never

 

As

 

an end 

for a birth

- As the death of an ending -

ignites a death;

As the birth 

of the end of a song;

 

A transmutation,

in Iteration

 

of a truth;

In the blinding shine

of primordial grime

 

of a Moment’s respite; 

 

In the blink of an eye --

At the brink 

of perennial forces 

at the bay of their play, 

bowed to the will

of a life in love of the timeless

Wish 

to transcend 

the bounds of its flesh;

 

Unrest

Unfurling quest;

Destroyers behest

and lovers pleading

 

Wrought by the breeding

rending

Will to Become

and the desperate needing,

all the while,

to overcome it.