mark
time camp-
ing
in
a worldly chair
near your body
fun
scene motion which is a
pendulum at best because to swing
is
not at all a curse from birth but rath-
rather what the hanged man calls
for
once he sees from upside down the exit
door that traps death in with us
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
over the cliff's edge,
two arcs bridged the sky~
violet-to-green, to gold-to-blue,
arching like forgotten promises~
one bow echoed the other
in perfect inversion,
earth-bound light
bent through grief
to glimpse heaven twice.
The west may be attacked in four years a German military
Officer advises.' This after forty years of enc-roaching
N a t o by extra-sizing..And three years into the war by proxy..? My they're patient.!!! What could be hiding? Its
Much like convid maybe? Bio un logical war.' Direct by
W h o.? Now by this officer just be warned.)
What twisted minds we have!
Fascinated by dark ritual,
sacrifice of human blood
to call black magic to our aid.
Alluring secret knowledge,
perilous complexities;
attempting to control
the supernatural.
How can this make sense anymore?
Two thousand years ago,
the Divine bled itself for us,
granted us power
despite our unworthiness and ignorance.
Freely given, and open to the light.
A ritual beyond our wildest dreams.
So condescendant, the Lord of the Light,
for all that we must do
is to believe,
and to eat,
And all is ours...
The terms of the pact really make no sense,
but God makes all things new.
3 June 2024
Water flew,
it was above my head
waving or flapping
or did it row?
The boat
was a situation
adrift inside a cockleshell.
I recall the moon vividly
for it was not there.
Dreams fold inwards,
invert and leach
behind shuttered lids.
Searchlight-sight turns to floodlight,
the peripheral is everywhere.
Awareness rises to the top
rocking back and forth
heart-waves - tolling
like a sea tossed buoy,
Sometimes, mid-deep in flight
you find a paddle,
sometimes you don't.
He unlocked life's mysteries
Brilliant man is mine
Quantum possibilities
Possible futures
To be together
In this inversion of time
It's a space-time rift
Now that the world
Is upside down
Inside out
Back to front
Turned around
And standing on its head,
Now that the truth
Is vilified
Spat upon
And trampled underfoot,
What of those
Who dare to speak out
Against all the lies
The corruption
The propaganda
The disinformation
The censorship
The deplatforming
And the whole rotten globalist
One world agenda,
What of those who dare
To raise their heads above the parapet
Will they not soon be silenced
Or imprisoned
Or maybe even put to death.
W.A CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly. 2020
27/7/20
and eventually existence will purge itself of the upsurge that cannot be calmed,
the detested, repugnant billowing of progressive thought
with a sickening and fatal denial of fault.
maneuvering, shape-shifting- a chimera history,
a ridiculous binding to a self-fulfilling prophecy.
by propagating a barrage of self-serving liberty,
we're taught how to sell our souls for free,
and if indeed we do,
then who am i to deviate?
and who are you to negotiate?
and who are we to procreate any intimacy between God and state
on a personal level in a humanist age?
how infinitesimal all this must seem to the accumulation of infinity.
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