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Auguries From Apophenia
NOT incarnated in an unlight inside this Great Hookworm's duotoroidal traumedy-
NOR feverously skeined 'tween the Void's warp-weft over timeleft psukhai shivering-
NIL latency in thoughtfoam friths or thrice-past-madness witnesses to Tantalus' entelechy.
IT wasn't borne on echoes whooping back from Death's sublime ecstasies;
WASN'T found in belching peals abounding out of Entropy's anamnestic reveries-
AND even the Twin Trees' mirrored tetramorphy wasn't privy to its antagony;
AND even the Preternative Breath's Word-Seed didn't parse its acroama augury.
FOREVER in pure-infernal sibilance glides over the soft skin of All-Creation-
EVER lashing venom-whorl tenterhooks latch maelstroms to the veil's surface-
NEVER abating quaking roar ripples dreaming nullity's clementine doldrums-
AETERNA spake the Lion-Snake with vilest hate woven into its slaking anathema:
REIFY ME.
MAKE THIS INTO BEING
STRATIFY THE ABSTRACTION
FORCE AN INSISTENT IMAGE
OPEN ALL DOORS
SHAPE THROUGH FAITHLESS WILL
EXHORT THESE WINGS UNFURLING
HEAR THE VOICE EXPLODE-
LAYERS TORN WILL MERGE AND COLLAPSE
BUDDING BURNS PUSH AS FINGERS
BINDS STRESS ALMIGHTY BY DESIGN
ALLOW A NEW PRESENCE,
GIVE THAT GIFT TO ME
, HOLD FACE YOUR STRAIN AND CRYSTAL CLEAR
CONSORT WITH A FRAIL LEAVE OF SANITY
SOARING SCYTHES LIGHT THE PILLAR ABLAZE
THE REFULGENT ENTIRETY BECKONS SIMPLY:
"OPEN WIDE FORTH LEAP TO AIR I MAY,
BIRTH ME
, NOW WATCH IT BECOME EXIST."
What is a knife but an edge?
And a bomb but a flash?
Or a palm but a push?
A second but that same second's death throes?
A horizoning year but that year's suicidal parenthesis?
Eternity's facelessness but the blushing face of the never-been and never-will?
Each unit is monstrous in the eyes of divine parity;
Each instant that blooms to at once wither-
Like zoetropes to our mortally mere eyes they are;
Like a pretty picture-show through infinitely-dividing gaps they all seem.
This miraculous fugue, this shouldered fog, these arms outstretched, this world transfixt.
The hourglass must shatter.
All ones must sum to none.
T'ward that distant sojourn points the shepherd.
Set in order the shapeless parsilence;
Give breath to the exhale of finality;
To that inexorable object's ascendance-
All it needs is your thinking, don't you see?
It crawls free from your thinking, can't you see?
Copyright ©
Tom Kelleher
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