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"The Faces of Man"



The faces of Man
transformative 
held in the hand 
of Mephistopheles 

blood sells white and red
pontificating with two fingers

consuming greed for 
want of everything
they meld into the
curves of their crooked bends

he’s come to collect 
the minds of men
sold on the price of souls
the souls, of the soul singing dead

those on the left side
those on the right side
black matter makes it’s bed
The Light bringer melting and melding

all Time, 
and the dreams of what were 
and remain in Man's head
he's come to collect - 

all the lost souls, 
the souls 
of the living 
and the dead

Opportunity and wagers 
He who is waiting
weighting the scales
of the Souls of The Faces of Man

Then, HE enters - 
now climbs into the romantic notion 
of saving the dreams 
of the real truth singing 

in the hearts 
that are watching 

The Faces of Man
marking time 
collecting the lies 
we have all lived

hearing the cries 
from the hearts 
we have terraformed
the soft hearts

we have all bled

(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)



Max Cooper - Micron (Traum 149)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vrvca40DBGE




“The Rosy Crucifixion (Sexus, Plexus, Nexus)” / Henry Miller


“There is a theory that when a planet, like our earth for example, has manifested every form of life, when it has fulfilled itself to the point of exhaustion, it crumbles to bits and is dispersed like star dust throughout the universe. It does not roll on like a dead moon, but explodes, and in the space of a few minutes, there is not a trace of it visible in the heavens. In marine life we have a similar effect. it is called implosion. When an amphibian accustomed to the black depths rises above a certain level, when the pressure to which it adapts itself is lifted, the body bursts inwardly. Are we not familiar with this spectacle in the human being also? “ / Henry Miller


“From the time you wake up until the moment you go to bed it’s all a lie, all a sham and a swindle. Everybody knows it, and everybody collaborates in the perpetuation of the hoax. That’s why we look so goddamned disgusting to one another.” / Henry Miller


“From the little reading I had done I had observed that the men who were most in life, who were moulding life, who were life itself, ate little, slept little, owned little or nothing. They had no illusions about duty, or the perpetuation of their kith and kin, or the preservation of the State. They were interested in truth and in truth alone. They recognized only one kind of activity—creation. Nobody could command their services because they had of their own pledged themselves to give all. They gave gratuitously, because that is the only way to give.”  Henry Miller


“Imagination is the voice of daring. If there is anything godlike about God, it is that. He dared to imagine everything” Henry Miller


“What I want is to open up. I want to know what's inside me. I want everybody to open up. I'm like an imbecile with a can opener in his hand, wondering where to begin-- to open up the earth. I know that underneath the mess everything is marvelous. I'm sure of it.” /  Henry Miller


“I stood before a mirror and said fearfully: “I want to see how I look in the mirror with my eyes closed.”
These words of Richter’s, when I first came upon them, made an indescribable commotion in me. As did the following, which seems almost like a corollary of the above—from Novalis:
The seat of the soul is where inner world and outer world touch each other. For nobody knows himself, if he is only himself and not also another one at the same time.
To take possession of one’s transcendental I, to be the I of one’s I, at the same time, as Novalis expressed it again.” Henry Miller 


“The poet speaks only to the poet. Spirit answereth spirit. The rest is hogwash.” / Henry Miller




"Faust" / Goethe

You can’t, if you can’t feel it, if it never
Rises from the soul, and sways
The heart of every single hearer,
With deepest power, in simple ways.
You’ll sit forever, gluing things together,
Cooking up a stew from other’s scraps,
Blowing on a miserable fire,
Made from your heap of dying ash.
Let apes and children praise your art,
If their admiration’s to your taste,
But you’ll never speak from heart to heart,
Unless it rises up from your heart’s space.”
Faust, First Part 


“That which issues from the heart alone,
Will bend the hearts of others to your own.”  Faust, First Part


“Everything transitory is but an image.”  Faust, First Part
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