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PART 1: A multi-tide of parts, echoing the Shape of their Invisible Vessel


I was a Multitude…

my eyes could see only from one

one moving Body, one moving vantage point… 

yet I could feel from beyond, 

and at all times

all the rest of my bodies


In Dark silhouettes we were flying across the fluid hilltops 

with hopes to converge into a vague centre 

but it was not about meeting

or conjoining

it was more about feeling 

the space between

our Dream-bodies 

as we traced its edges and tasted its qualities.


And we were all singing… emanating frequencies

creating sound, becoming sound, morphing sound, embodying sound … 

inside our dream veins liquified… and woven

in living-breathing latticework… of lifelines connecting


running along criss-cross paths upon an undulating landscape 

of melting hills and trees dancing in the background


The abstract Chaos pattern of the perpetually transforming schematic, self-organising in my Hive Mind

manifested through dark shadow bodies echoing each other 

in an effort to trace the space within this greater Vessel… of ours


and at the same time creating it

The thinking cells of an organism trying to understand itself by following a ray of Light

endlessly refracted into an a-canonical Mirror room 

with each mirror constantly shifting and moving in space,


It is as though it is trying… frantically, 

in existential desperation

to gather its parts together 

and beam itself back to Source, 

without knowing exactly how

just being completely immersed in the exertion of its efforts,

trying to hit every possible angle in its reach

within Space 

and Time.


PART 2: Hive Mind Taking Over


The sky hung huge overhead. Full of white slashes cutting through it, separating its colours all the planes had been on the warpath.


And the big Hive mind was taking over  -   all of its parts. 

Leading them to Annihilation through assimilation… and whether there was redemption waiting there beyond that point  - I could not tell. 

But the feeling was foreboding. 


Like an Invisible tidal wave it chased us throughout the Landscape: 

The me and the You that sought escape were relentless…in our frantic running.

Through fields of open sky we could see the birds align themselves above us in strange new ways

vein-like formations, leading towards Indeterminate -  yet certain  d o o m.  


And in the hills below… strings of animals coiling - tentacle-like

and streaming towards a magnetic pull beyond the horizon. 



       It   had   them


Through cities peopled at high cost, we ran 

and in our fleeing, from the corners of our eyes we saw    -   the multitudes of Others… integrated and aligned, 

marching in neatly streamlined mechanical rows… like insect soldiers tuned to the call of their Great Queen.


In a sudden moment the Thing had me…. Central nervous system held hostage by an iron grip, in an involuntary process of alignment. 

Spine arching backward in a helplessness  -  that nonetheless 

the Self in me stubbornly… refused to accept.


Still fighting. Always fighting 


                      -   a fight internal for all that freedom was ever worth to a living Self. 


It seems the most important endeavour of our kind 

Is to break free from mind-shackles;   cruelly worn and ruthlessly binding us together.


But the struggle against seemingly unbreakable bonds will surely make them hurt more… with no guarantee it’s not a mere exercise in futility.


The other Voice Within promises  

                  Our only relief feels something like freedom 

                    And the only freedom from this Fight, is in Surrender




At least it’s a good thing,  there is no Forever.  


But for now       -       the Fight        -       is still on.




PART 3: Battlescars



Sweating teeth sink into the heart of feeling


[   -   I   am   a   feeling    machine   -   ]


Hungry and desperate and fearful…

there will be nothing left

to tear at the End. 


Stepping back transfixed

there-and-not-there, staring

in from the edges of this perennial battlefield


[   -   I   am   a   breathing   machine   -   ]


Inhaling the Lonely  

Exhaling wholesomeness 

Fabricated in the bile-seasoned stomachs of the once-lost

that have now learned their lessons

meekly wearing them in scars across their skin…


Take pride in survival 

but never the War 


Take pride in   S  u  r  v  i  v  a  l  

but never the   W  a  r  



This score can never settle

as long as there is wanting to feel 

anything more


than Peace




PART 4:  The Cleansing


We were phase-changing


Flickering through different beds and nesting places… 

a montage in crossfades; appearing into one 

while disappearing from another

each of them saturated with a distinctly different feeling 

a fragile sense of ephemeral safety and comfort linking them 

across the vast precarious land-and-time scapes of impermanence…


all of them dense in memory and energy filled objects 

all of them we had to leave -  always in transit - perpetually 

floating between worlds 

uncertainty was not the enemy though… we had to surf and slide 

on its uneven surface

as water flows on rock,

and sea mammal on water. 


Then when the call was heard 

and we were ready 

the water came 

to perform the cleansing: 

a long time we had waited, longed for it. and now 

the time had come

in a large industrial dream-space 

with huge dirty glass windows up to the high high ceiling 

letting in the cold clean light

to distil our essence 


The grime and the purity existing simultaneously in the space around us….  

reflecting as it did the truth of the space within us

encased as we were in concrete, glass and metal

as we often are in waking life…

there was so much room to dance within 

and without 

and with each other

circling and spinning

around the axis of each one and round the one in-between us

naked and freed and purifying

from indoor shower-rains pouring

from above… falling from the high high ceilings 

laughing in wild abandon, locked in trance….dance












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