Ere Dawn resumed her immemorial trust,
And vested earth with its hereditary fire,
A quiet ordinance, older far than light,
Passed through creation's unrecorded choir.
No seraph stirred.
No sceptre changed its hand.
Only possession loosed its last command.
The cedar kept its patriarchal shade;
The river held its testament to sea;
The stars maintained their sacerdotal watch,
Yet none rehearsed the grammar of the free.
Each thing fulfilled
Its undisputed part,
Without one covenant of "mine" at heart.
Then at the vesper table, long made holy
By homely fidelities no years could sever,
She brake the loaf, prepared the waiting bowl,
And reached to serve her absent love as ever.
Her hand grew still—
For love, at length made whole,
Could not distinguish giver from the bowl.
Then Light, divested of all need to shine,
Found every soul had always been its own.
Once foretelling portents swam within the
Apogee bath.
Torn wounds in flesh,
unequip the afflicted. Lack.
Unilaterality Undesirables systematically
inspect an overture unto the future.
Incisions.
Indecision.
Discussions.
Decision.
Resolution Found between
Thigh
and
Breast Fat.
We spoke on the old West.
Distain allowed to follow
in
shadows' shoes.
Walk-
from the gravestone tomb,
Talk-
from the cemetery plot.
prefer amnesia, anesthesia, or euthanasia,
the lot.
Apposed to this undying pain,
grief,
return of
disbelief.
A contrite
Sorry resentment
Sodden in maple
Solidity.
Solidarity pushed well past
comprise while
the unconvinced so
remained that,
a sacerdotal yet
antidotal dissenter.
Go on.
Permission to let Pessimism steep in dark tea leaves.
Reverse dove beneath the San Fernando crust.
For I awake within a dichotomous dream,
I ask what is real that the eye may gleam…
Realities regulate as the heads at the helm,
As dimensions deliberate a deceitful realm…
I walk through forests of faceless feeble time,
Nurturing nightmares of a calamitous climb…
Confronting creatures, succulents of the soul,
Upon Quantum quicksands of a nightly stroll…
I then Nova with the numinous sacred suns,
Ethereal explosions causing sacerdotal strums…
Decoratively dancing divine where Angel's trend,
Reaching the edge where some decline & descend…
All this within a differential devisable dream,
And idol illusions resonate and reign supreme…
For what is a dream without its raging reality?
Reality without dreams a sacrificial silent sea.
Feb.17.2019
I Dreamed a Dream
Sponsored by: Silent One
Placed 1'st...Thank You
an archway
an archway opens onto a soporific plaza
which pours outwardly in colorful asymmetric
displays that once incited the bones of an organic past
steeped in a rich broth, an ancestral heaving stew,
quietly simmering to a point of boil.
the humble ones, once, alive to the core, move to and fro,
cornered and stultified by conventions, babbling broken mantras,
they attempt to sooth the spirits daunting deadly pricks
the lipstick girls of the labial folds, who exist beyond the pale
of a refracting sun’s light, hover between ghostly spheres
of a lost sacerdotal history;
wet with gloss, they yearningly enchant youthful acolytes,
who, painted in salacious priestly pastels,
patterned up to placate the Ones,
are fully endowed and exuding in virginal carnality,
fall willingly into their own demise, caressed by the
spreading tongs, in the act of sacrificial obligation.
an archway opens out to a thriving and heaving plaza.
“Le lacrime del Cuore”
As the tears faithfully fall on cedar wood
A chaotic still thru sacerdotal sky where it stood
And blood rapidly runs down on cypress veins
Where the palpitating pine sadly shows its pains
The birds of prey perched perfectly passive
As the heart hinders to their words impassive
Nazarene nails reveal their tenacious teeth
And the sands of sorrow bellow underneath
A bludgeoned body from east to west
As the wounded wood is gently blessed
The heavens hibernate with clouds of grey
To meaningfully mourn this degenerative day
The cryptical cross now stands surreal
For a King is crowned with thorns that seal.
(March.24.2016)...June.6.2016
Jesus Contest
By Anthony Slausen
It is no ordinary stop that captivates,
no lush green paradise
as if to flush the ugliness of war.
There is instead, that rush of purity
that sweeps across the panorama of the mind
to speak of the uncommon,
of something changing everything
just by standing still.
It is said that pain is that which will evoke
the journey to the mountain peak, yet
quest is the fulfillment of desire
and not the burning fire of dreams
that dance before the one to seek
the pinnacle of art.
And when the best defining
may not approach the mark of truth
then in that sacerdotal lay,
"God dwells in you"...
there is the shining rim of day,
God dwells in you!
It is to know
the fairest beauty of them all.
In supreme accolade
before the fair impossible
white angel of a far ineffable
white paradise, there comes
a son of man, a daughter of the earth
for whom all worlds, all time
attends.
~
Mental Illness
We are the last
vestiage of the
ostracized.
We are the lepers
of the moon who
walk among the
unforgiving innocent
with luminous sores.
We are hieratic stones
that mark a trail to divinity,
unaware of mediocrity.
We are the nightmare
and cuirass of your
terminal souls.
We are the delicate,
immortelles flowers
of creation's jewellery
and dwell within
the mouldering caverns
of apocalyptic chaos.
We reject gods because
they reject our sacerdotal
dominion over gods.
We are the magical
diseased who feed upon
the blue-burn fire of stars.
We are the watchers
of the withered minds
who try and quantify
our grandiosity.
We are pre-eminent
progeny of parsimonius
preternatural wombs.
We are magmatic, quantum
lepton neutrinos of sub-atomic
galaxies where altruistic Eros
regenerates the living force of life.
We are the you in us and the us in you.
We are infinite truth.
We are!
Banished we are from God
The sacerdotal lepers
Of the moon who feed upon
The universal majesty of stardust
You cannot heal our genius
It is Increate and forever
Born of flesh but released
To the infinite embodiments of fire
Our logic is demented discipline
Owned by tribal genetics passed
Briefly through your mediocrity
The inner cuirass still shines ----
But imbued luster
Does not equate possession
Forged in Chaos
As Spirit and Flesh
We fly on Celtic wings of pandemonium
Then lavish lullabies on sanity and curse reality
We, the consecrated castaways of invisibility,
Are the Insane
Spawn of creativity:
Bejewelled, imperious, adornments of the Universe
(d)
from the sonar depths
came the hum, the pre-mamilian
amphibian tremor rising as from
a vessal of death, still-life
though without breath, casketed
in the liquid womb
the natal tomb
and emerging,
drowned in its first
gasp a futile grasp
for some semblance of truth,
a gossamer mask.
all that glitters is fallible,
(s)
except those things labeled "precedent,"
"sacrosanct," "sacerdotal," which were
with us at the beginning of the world
before the amphibians, before the
asparagus, before the glitter of
the semblance of intellect which
are all necessarily fallible
in this natal universe.
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