To turn the air around you, inside out, inverting what was apparently something measurable. Distracting the devious ways of the world from the precincts of our holy secret ground.
...leaving out 18th century calculus, in order to see much better, what it is, pours visually into the soul's simple chalice.
And watch how it seems that outside, this wasn't, but some feverish enbittering hallucination. Brought about by tinkers meddling, with the earth's subtle body in some inefficient and stupid manner. Throwing wrenches into the harmonic mechanical workings of the kosmic mouvement.
Never been. But for an instant.
Then all shuts up and disappears.
Elves dancing in fairy rings on the heath.
** * ** **
Just some bad daydream waking in the wretched sewers of lower humanity. On the concrete, between yellow lamps in the ghetto evening! Debating violently with what is less valuable than the animals made by God.
Surely, at the same time, indecent blood defeats its very own reason to live, eating its own kind. Sweating through its frigid skin! To be devoured by its own internal lack of worth and fame.
Yet if I close my physical eyes, I see inside my heart, the Blue Island and Hyperion's arrival from the Southern polar cap emitting. Wondrous and unequal in its majestic solaire stature, advancing gradually in short even strides. Tearing down all electro-magnetic barriers, calmly. Dividing asunder into distinguishable parts what was once a tightly knitted invisible firmament.
Interrupting the immediate mathematical order inlaid between the planetary orbital paths.
To cremate all untruth. Eradicating the bad memories that made this battered and worn out earth forsooth suffer to deteriorate in the hands of a decaying made up organic Evil.
** * ** **
...to go down into and salvage the other's opposite, at the risk of dirtying the third eye, the infernal chasm where a blatant slut thrones, horrid and despicable.
And behold! ...it's a scum harlot of popular cheap songs. A product of gospel hypocrisy with all its tepid splendor.
Decomposing from inside out onto the stage, in the lime light, for tattered teenage dolls and smart phone pics at Dodger Stadium.
** * ** **
...and yet, if I close my physical eyes, I see inside my heart, the Blue Island and Hyperion's arrival from the Southern polar cap emitting. Wondrous and unequal in its black solaire stature, advancing gradually in short even strides. Tearing down all the electro-magnetic barriers, calmly. Cutting asunder into sacred individual parts what was once a tightly knitted invisible firmament in the once inner world.
And God saw that it was good.
