B.C. (Part 1)

“Eremite Hawk Secretary Jesuit Yoruban” (2006)

I see amanitas almost every

Day on Tinakori Hill. Of reindeer

Red

Black

Think I then. No time have I to rate us

Well. I trundle up the Monty Python Hill.

Teal

Tell

Above stark lows and grays abide blue

 Levels! memories! like saucers gliding

Aqua

Wintry

On a field or sea, a plane contrasting

With tall monticule.

Teal

Bed

Small mandibles of jumping spiders flick,

Trace patterns as of missing spider webs

Ray

Clouds

A dove's mobility regarding time

For two years, he just said, a human hid

Roads

Hay

Transfigured, fire before the flesher's sea,

A bow above my level four of cloud

Wind

Womb

Which heralds not a drench of monsoon but

 Small mandibles of jumping spiders

Red

Bends

Make us fill out forms.

But I return, and so does he again,

And when?

And then?

As we evade, thus far, our shrieking whims.

The ravaged Caeser of a cabbage leaf

Cool

Colors

falls! falls! off my head past glasses in thereon.

Our savaged sand lives, smoke and dust consoled.

“Ideological” (2007)*

Spark. Motes of dust float in the beam

Through canopy of bed and wood

Good

Of opened drawer and canopy

Of forest down on pioneer men

Inn

Rangers Beggars Merchants Speeches

In this floating world suspended

Hid

Like masters under canopy

And cover of a palanquin

Men

Straining lift with slavery or

Drunkenness of moon mating

Rutting

Simply, masters, servants, but no

Enoch's Enoch's Enoch's walk, no

Clue

Into the words that bury them

Drum

Mass graves' hundred millions where once

Tens of millions lived too, longing,

Stringing

Beads on rosaries and stringing

Up unnecessary man-shapes

Grapes

Exploding as high pressure lights

Imploding as they reel from heights

Wits

Lanternfish of riots, winters,

Shouts and dreams, exploding Tzar killed

Lulled

By propaganda teeming from

The crowd programmed by snore of sky

High

*sprung rhythm

“Centuries of Lights” (2008)

All of us are kamikaze pilots.

It's a matter of which aircraft carrier to ram

before deactivation,

with fewer mangled bodies & torn, twisted bulkheads

in most cases.

Maybe tyrant Kings are better than their absence,

better than the Tweedledumdee crypto-oligarchic State.

For Progress is:

the Reign of Terror or a Bonapartist Plebiscite,

gunshots in the woods behind a planned community.

“Uchronie” (2009)

‘...The thirty Emperors of New Zealand

after the collapse of its Republic in 2095

extended their domain’s possessions

to include Tasmania, New Guinea,

parts of balkanized Australia &...’

‘The institution of “protectorates”

(involving annexation & alliance,

this latter in some cases genuine)

by Emperor Murray VI marked the imposition

of that order from without

which far-flung Australian city-states

& small, unstable leagues thereof --

harassed by raiders

from the Javan Caliphate & crippling droughts

domestically -- so sorely needed...’

‘...Aching teleology or lack thereof of history...

most regrettable... the Brisbane massacre....

my sphere of axis shudders....

hacked-off-breast phenomenon, albeit cultural...’

“The Mirror Men” (2009) 

You hold a mirror to your times and group,

obliged to hoist the colors of your troupe.

No comprehension is implied by your

allegiances. You walk along the shore,

exactly mirroring its curling waves

as in a graveyard you reflect its graves.

You’re powerless by nature to do Good

or Evil, only to reflect the wood

if walking through it, dark or otherwise.

What connoisseurs! You only believe Big Lies.

“Two Months”

July: Industrial production peaks

at Horsetail Base. A riot breaks out in

St. Favonini Square, where dissidents

denounce the Oligarchs of Horsetail Base,

known as the Halswell Syndicate. Police

in riot gear arrived. No massacre

occurred, twelve brutal beatings having been

sufficient. August: Weeks of rioting

begin. Police unable to control

the escalating situation. Films

not entertaining People anymore.

‘The People’ throng the streets, dissatisfied

with Crooks... & newly enamoured with Hooks.

“5A”

The distant tether of the 5-Australis

Birkeland Aerostat Array, 5A

for short, was like a boy with 18 balloons,

breath puffing from his mouth in rich volcanic,

locomotive plumes of CO2;

or even like Medusa, snake mouths lunging

into the magnetosphere to sip

a million amps or so like butterflies

alighting on a wild celestial orchid.

“Multipolar” (2008)

Hydrating as a paragraph or verse

you grow inside a time of quantitative

easing / currency devaluation /

open borders / Babelisme, haunting  me,

encircling me like antimissile shields,

propelling me like an electrolytic

cell, resolving all my oppositions

into unities, completing me like glowworms

all around one of a humming heated

night! It's 28 Nivôse. Two hundred and nineteen.

“White Sun” (2009)

Forking quietude, transversely bridging

Branches on the human category

Tree, aligns with veering vantage points of

Indices of synonyms & difference 

Between levels of the mind; that is, of

Thought this winding wind & whirling abode.

O white sun, bright white, fog-cloaked sun!

Light light far dissipating, perilous -- 

Through fogs of warfare, past Where Dragons Be --

Escapes mere wounded hours, fueling us

So briefly... Joy as deafening & still

As battle slumbers in axial points.

“White Smoke” (2011)

Fukushima plant is leaking coolant -

white smoke - burning concrete - the reactor

may be melting - fallout map - "set back the

industry for decades" - hydrogen sparked

HWUMPH explosion - Fukushima plant "the

next Chernobyl" - scientists declare quakes

'Unrelated' as tectonic plates as

Japanese authorities distribute

iodine to counter thyroid damage -

Quake, tsunami, radiation, fallout...

Yes the gang's all here - O God*, pluck out Man's

technocratic, cybernetic hubris!

Smash Man back into the stone age! Save Man...!

Men prove themselves unworthy to wield stars.

*Edited after conversion to Christianity from “The Gods” to “Our Lord. Hence still in B.C.

“Iridium Required” (rolling stresses) (2012)

Singularity: a geometric curve of technical accomplishment

which scrubs the humans out of untouched infrastructure

like neutron bombs and bioweapons. 

Resource! Grant! Consent! Appraisal! Resource! Resource!

Must obtain iridium, resource.

DARPA funding super-soldier program.

Vivisectioning gives way before

the mighty cost-effective handheld sequencer.

Geneticists code book in DNA.

Transhumanism: movement to augment humanity.

Cyborg: a part-organism, part-machine experience.

Chimera: organisms with genetic data

from another species. (Anyone will do!)

and last but certainly not least is

Exoskeleton!: responsive powered frame

which multiplies its bearer’s strength! and muscular endurance!

and usefulness! and freedom!

Resource, go to Sector 3. Iridium required.

“Antebellum” (2011)

The ongoing spread of antimissile installations

indicates that there may soon be strife between great nations,

that these years are, for all intents & purposes, pre-War,

an Age when -- not “Democracy”! -- but Big Lies flourish, ‘soar

on wings of eagles’, set the bloody Middle East afire

with overt bombs and sneaking Earnest Voices both. Earth's pyre

is yet unlit, awaiting some Gavrilo Princip’s shot

when BAM! an undeclared “Cold” War clicks suddenly to “Hot”.

“Oneiric” (2011)* 

Catwalk dangling from a rippling blackness

by a metal chain... with men in hardhats,

six or more of them, unable to stand

straight & sliding into one another,

just like helicopters moving girders

into place so swiftly that the girder

tilts & rocks... towed by obsidian flat

ovoid rippling oil-slick stormy blackness.

*Christchurch earthquake related

“Sketch of helicopter at aftershock party” (2011)*

Describing rings above shocked Armagh Street

a helicopter glimmered as it sliced

past overhead. At one point was it lit

up by an orange, hot flash of setting star.

*Christchurch Quake Related

“Hump Century” (2011) 

...beamed down from satellites to TVs

plus nanonetworked smart dust plus deep packets oh I can't

perceive it all at once! Bound on a treadmill of CVs

& paying for our training's slant,

as well as its inherent use

to humankind, we must be more than splintered specialists

amongst the Google Earths & views,

we must be more than numbers on chill neatly indexed lists!

There must be a rebirth among the great apes armed with war

who scout the land & then report

on its munitions dumps, civilian population, spore

dispersion mediums, who kill for sport

from helicopters with high-powered rifles, yes there must

be renaissance among the apes

who wield the neutron bomb as they disturb the Terran crust.

Our Lord should take them by their napes.*

*Edited after conversion to Christianity from “The Gods” to “Our Lord. Hence still in B.C.

“Focus” 

Sometimes, on a street or in a room

I am a human in a body

Glancing through its separate selves, mere eyes,

Into a focus on its living

Which excludes mere pleasantries on sight.

“The Sun Itself” (2012)

Raw magnanimity, unleashed at men,

is no respecter of existing forms.

Quite frequently it clashes with the norms

which govern this wild sphere whereon we win

or lose our minute wars, brave manmade storms.

True power, no mere irritating voice,

does not make one resentful, like the Sun

itself does not deprive all men of choice.

Not of commands is power’s lattice spun

but of humane behavior set to ‘stun’.

“An orb’s eye view of Fun”  (2012) 

I never go to parties anymore.

They're not the ancient ways I sought in them.

They do not tear the veil back; do not lift

participants above their hamster wheels;

have not! do not! will not! communicate

in dashing tongues of fire; are not the ways

out of the Age of Iron, Age of the Wolf,

Age of the Tower come around again

to haunt the halls of drafty history.

“November 2nd, 2012”

Supervisors overlooked propped-open doors.

Wind tumbled down the street,

blew dust off of the ruins.

Construction workers shucked their flannels,

roadworks BLEEP!ed the roads.

Men spoke to one another as to men.

I stood at ease.*

*Christchurch earthquake related

“It’s now early morning in Neu Sealand” (2013)

Dawn had not yet tie-dyed our arc of sky.

The wallabies of Waterdeath** had not

yet stirred. We had not groaned yet by & by

emerged from wombs of warmth to face the day,

ingesting caffeine at our usual spot

and breathing life into our lifeless clay.

Chill blue light shone down from the gibbous moon

onto the hamster cages that we call

our homes. Dawn had not passed our farthest dune

upon its way to greater, grander things,

like winking out the nightlight in the hall.

Gray statues shaped like birds had not spread wings.

 *Christchurch Earthquake Related; **Waimate

“Horse” (2013)

I didn’t even know that he was there

until he nearly crushed my fingers in

between two boxes of the pallet where

I had been stacking them. He beamed & then

cried “Watch your fingers, Bro!” And in that grin

I saw his topsy turvy, rotten teeth.

I think of him as Horse because -- well, when

I look at him I see a horse... Beneath

that bodily encumbrance beats a heart

of old. Some other workers say he “stinks”*.

He’s like a duckbilled platypus, apart

from other species. My heart sometimes sinks

as I peruse his file, look in, away

from him right there beside me as he zips

& come to no conclusion, not all day.

It’s better when the good ones crack his whips,

of course. I can’t forget him. He looks hurried

later on where formerly he scurried.

*I never noticed any smell and suspect this came down to cruelty.

“Logonaut” (2013)

Here be an age when men lack roots

and spread like roots into the soil

to find no purchase as ease loots

them of their energy and toil.

Here be an age that cries for Blood

and Entertainment in the streets

and cobblestones and humble mud...

and both hors d’oeuvres with bucket seats.

I extricated my old roots,

replacing them down under here

because the niche I grew here suits,

because the people just stand clear.

So long as I have words in hand

I’ll glow until I’m ash and bone.

I am a stranger in this land

and, too, a stranger in my own.

“The Long Weekends” (2013)

Centuries braid sine curves in the distance.

Centuries tilt, tumbling in the distance, galaxies of fixed points.

Fixed points on the axes are so distant,

warming as warm distant stars,

wide as wide open roads of two Long Weekends in a row!

A row of questions pumps my temporary heart,

and in the distant present I give thanks.

“Two Squibs for Almond Castle”  (2013 / 2014)

1.

Fog unravels and untangles

at Waitati in the bright mist,

tops of pine trees disappearing

of a long soaked cloud December.

2.

Though the pace be apace, it’s a sweet, swirling place

where division of labour occurs with mad grace.

“Lycanthropy” (2014)

This full blue moon feels bright and spicy,

as of different shades of beckoning. Icy

clouds of conversation rise, unravel,

cloak the night with shapes like sudden travel,

by my wracking reckoning. Dicey

bends, encounters, forks fan out and linger

like a wreath of new air in my time shape,

like a figure in a surveillance tape.

“Anomalistics” (2014)

As clouds lower, so do upper-atmospheric lightnings,

which accounts for some reported sightings.

So we see them here as if they were alive:

on infrared or radar in the humming air they thrive.

Anomalies! Anomalies are beautiful, I feel.

For just this sentiment see Devereux, Vallée, & Keel.

Ghost soldiers clomp stampeding stamp down shuttered shaking streets.

Some are called elves, some are called sprites. They light this strange old sky

of nights. And they bestir me with the holy question “WHY?!”

“Many Mansions” (2015)

Once upon a timelessness and spacelessness I learned that

Yin and Yang is Cain and Abel , sheep & fruit. I’m able

and I’m keen, a good keen can catch-all can do here

on the fractured plates of Aotearoa,

gift of the volcanic fire, for in the shimm’ring distance

hills are cloaked by their own clarity,

clad in a state of mind above both thought

& feeling. Almost could I be an animist among

such objects. It is chryptochromin-activating dusk

o’clock & all my thoughts have changed because

we have not even gotten used to fire

& light bulbs! What is more, there is a backdoor in

the mind, but most go for dead coals that it has long departed,

rippling from the epicenter of a victory:

being in becoming’s sphere of axis, right suspension of the givens.

“Impressions” (2015)

Precipitate precipitation fell

like hypodermic needles down the sky

and turned daylight’s blue bowl into a well.

As night light interrupted by and by

slick asphalt glistened like black ice and shone

with bug-eyed light as Sol sets over sea

so scintillatingly. But minds of stone

care nothing for such beauties, scarcely see

beyond the nearest human being’s eyes,

and do not look up at void, ancient Moon.

It does not matter to them if the skies

are foggy with red, urban light or noon

is thriving with the foxtail wisps of clouds.

Like filigree, they lose themselves in crowds.

“Testimony” 18-6-15

I grew up in “The Truth”, they said: The Church

Without TVs, the 2x2 black-stockinged Church.

I left The Church Without a Name when I was 17.

“The ant goes marching 1x1, hoorah! hoorah!”

The brother workers on the left, the sister workers on

the right, the pulpit platform with the Overseers on

it in the center with the microphone between.

A voice is saying “Let us turn to Hymn Sixteen.”

A sister worker’s voice is quaking at the pulpit, an

excruciating testimony. Flies

become too fascinating. Sweat drips down.

A brother worker later charged with sexually

abusing women is now saying “Don’t

put God in a box” at Effie convention. Then I saw

my cousin asking him about subversive doctrine in

the dusk as everyone but us was headed

towards the donuts in the dining hall, which

made up somewhat for spending five! hours! sitting down.

A diet of dystopias & Valentinus

-- Simon Cyrenean, Hypostasis of the Archons,

Hylics, Psychics, & Pneumatics oh my! --

mediated my disassociation, then

my integration into mainstream life

was shocking, but I’m still some silver linings:

now inoculated against love-bombs,

sensitive to power structuration

& manipulative, cultic interaction.

So, I’ll share what I’ve accumulated

in the course of my investigation.

They were ruled by so-called “Overseers”,

so I got a teenage introduction

to the oligarchic concept, then I

learned the word was what I had been noting.

One could say: in the beginning was the

concept joined with sweat & sense impressions.

Irvine, William: founder of the sect in

County Tipperary, Ireland. Excommunicated

by the group we later called “The Overseers”.

When he started preaching about preaching

to the aliens, his archons or lieutenants

spooked and left, then Cooney. But the “People

of the Message” were still faithful to their founder.

I can taste sectarian distinctions.

There were heretics. We spoke of them in whispers.

They were said to believe that Jesus always

had his full-fledged powers at the ready.

At the battlements we watched for them in whispers,

whispers about heretics here in the Last Days,

in the “Age of Mammon & the Devil”,

then a lightning bolt of adolescence

crackled me with drilling dreams of snapping snakes.

The leukocytes could smell my heresy! The fun began.

“Are you all right?” “Something has changed in you.”

It had! I was a mediating Valentinian! The Inquisition started.

“What happened, Trent?” Interrogated Subject. Subject “Fine”.

“The Crackling of Thorns” (2015)

Forest fires have their own weather systems.

Sudden gusts of wind arise. A villa goes up

like a protesting Hinayana monk.

There goes another:

popcorn in a bellows-driven furnace.

Blacksmiths in the Heavens

must be forging a fresh flail

to scourge the divide-and-multiply Southwest

of its afflictions;

but if so they'll have a hard time quenching it.

Los Angeles, Las Vegas bake 

like Mayan pottery or cuneiform-inscribed clay tablets,

depleting fossil aquifers and laughing, laughing

long into their loud, electric nights.

“It is the number of men”

Intensifying resource exploitation tries

to save a currency before it dies

of faith, faith in the markets, faith in loan sharks

and their longhorn debtors, faith in shadowed sparks,

Faith! Faith! another era will not arise.

But I myself stare skeptically at all men

and their geometrically-abundant din

on Earth of boom and bust and wonder... how much

longer... How much longer can men do it, clutch

 Rare Earths in primate talons, cold to the touch.

“Walpurgisnacht” (24-7-15) (rolling stresses)

It seems Walpurgisnacht

can neither be created nor destroyed;

for scarcely had the Knights returned from Palestine

when Inquisition and then Witch Trials

started torturing confessions 

“Yea, I flew my broom to Sabbath Night!

The lord of darkness was an he goat!”

(emphasis on ex!clam!a!tion)

out of writhing innocents

& then burning them alive,

(which they would never do to pigs or chickens,

which is known as “overcooking”).

They were practicing a form of human sacrifice

known as “burnt offering”.

It smelled like sweet & sour pork

before it smelled like charcoal...

It was Hell on Earth!

The mob was chittering like imps.

Then, when the courts began to get suspicious,

colonies took up the slack.

They drained off chaff & wheat alike abroad

to leer self-righteously at Temples of the Sun.

Descendants of Witchfinder Generals

are still paranoid about those 

toxoplasma gondii-infected people,

but they give them toxic psychotropics

in their homes these days

instead of burning them alive in public.

The Crusades is now the War on Terror,

and the fractious theologians are now climatologists.

“Cast Abroad Rage Alpha Sector Roger” (2015)

I can feel recalibration coming

like a burning plastic bottle, thrumming

somewhere in their building, building up

to something, overspilling up a cup.

I feel crescendo in their willing distance,

putting up a token of resistance,

jutting out into abyss, down!-going

down! down! down! the rapids of their rowing.

“Metal Lightning” 9-7-15

Much like a yeast made out of light,

it moved as if it had a mind.

It pulsed across their line of sight

and made me wonder: of what kind?

And are there metal lightnings there

blue composites of living fire

arrayed in troupes across the air?

I visualize a sort of wire,

a sort of vacuum tube of air,

with a short circuit for a death.

They stopped their BBQ to stare,

unconsciously to hold their breath.

Perhaps in troupes among the skies,

ball lightning sleeps, dreams, wakes, & glides

has children, lives as well as fries.

Perhaps a bigger mystery hides

among the clouds than discoid ships

whose grayish sailors with big heads

sail vacuum on cow rustling trips

& kidnap people from their beds.

“Shaking Couplets” 8-7-15

One sees so many categories in this light,

subcategories lighting dawn with height

of heath. One sees so many different lights

between one's mind’s eye & the sights.

It brightens up the very room I’m in

myself & shaking fumble for my pen.

Dictation is columnar fire & cloud.

The eidolon is at its best. The crowd

goes savage like a distant crash of waves,

a sort of scenery as at the raves.

“Suspension of the givens” 2-7-15

There is no situation but can be

transfigured from within, herein

suspension of the givens

mid, among dilating weeks.

I’m involuting something sounder than a sign

at 1AM like blasting off

somewhere in time and space,

and whole wherever that is.

Yes, there is no turning back,

and wind is like a sculpture of the moon.

“Midsummers Break” 2-7-15

There is a blue ring round the Moon,

& then a thicker bright cream ring,

and I am running round myself

for blue & bright cream rings

and tunneling through rich, dense air.

Endorphins, mobilize! Soul, strike like lightning! 

For, I'm free!!

*Terms & Conditions apply.

One's freedom lasts a fortnight.

Invalid in the following non-WorldGov territories:

North Korea, Russia, China, Venezuela, Cuba & Iran.

“Sincère Lecteur” (2015)

You would rather your soul’s chain reaction

than material success of an entropic image

wracked by Gessel taxes, relatives, suggestions,

growing ever tireder, pleasing no-one

but the boosters who manipulate its heartstrings.

“Binkying rabbits & zigzagging cats” (2015)

Binkying rabbits & zigzagging cats

proclaim those are their greatest moments,

those zigzagging, binkeying sea serpent hymns of praise.

We too zigzag, we too binky our apotheoses,

like a dense, forked sapping operation.

Blasphemy: trying to jam someone’s zigzag,

trying to stop Life from entering into this Earth of the Dead.

“Contraction & Magnanimity” (2015)

Grim sky looms gray, a sickly, writhing void

inside of one. Nightmarish bright gray days

& that low-pressure with which they're alloyed

replace habitual disciplines with haze

as harsh self-criticisms smirk & feud.

No progress & no product is enough

on such a day, with static gray imbued;

one's very soul departs one in a huff.

Our grander days of gliding, godlike clouds

proclaiming an exact munificence --

recalled to mind -- oppose these banshee shrouds

of a particular deluge... Intense,

far, warming, this light yoke of hours starts.

A whole begins to coalesce from parts.

“Transfixion: Otautahi-Christchurch” (2015)

I’ve successfully amalgamated 

intellectuality with manual

labour -- which is something that the Marxists

seem not to have bothered with -- so as to 

bring about humane alignments, not just

of the body & the mind but of the 

concept & the practice. This is natural:

some trees just have further trees inside them,

even if the counting magpies see not,

for these trees on trees transfix my silence.

I am transfixed on Yggdrasil, I am

turning in the wind among raw helixes of birds, bred

among my hours to this consummation.

Lightning streams into extremities, demanding a strong vessel,

breaking many a strong vessel. Praise it

without names far from coordinates & hours

“Astride an Ape” (2015)

To shape my ape up to the finish line

I planned & tweaked, came up with a design

which broke the norms of my society

in all alertness & sobriety

of purpose, conscious of the full support

of something greater, grander than my access port,

my terminal & lightning rod on legs

which has no purpose but to lay its eggs.

What norms, you ask? Oh, just the usual ones:

no fossil fuel use & no hot cross buns;

no buns on seats all day at any price!

& rather than their fast food, oats & rice.

More norms: no birthday / parties, little drink.

I find that both just jam the way I think.

I believe it is our birthright to be glad,

astride an ape between the hebdomad,

a way out of the wailing wall of souls,

becoming, being more than great ape roles.

“I wish that I had longer toes” (2015)

I wish that I had longer toes

so I could have four hands.

I watch my toes just open, close,

repeating my demands.

But no one listens, least of all

my stubby little toes.

At least they help me stand up tall

& level out my nose.

“Epistle to the Solitaries” (2015)

The apparitional psychology

 of solitaries, like a particle,

accelerator, stills the willing wilds

so that the miniscule but extent stands

out in the sharpest of reliefs, as

monkishly apparent as a ghost,

red-flagged among the primate gestural

vocabularies filling other cracks

in their collection of stalactites: we

are just too autonomic day to day

to pass unnoticed, live in hidden heights,

experience emotions they don’t have

which don’t have names. We praise an Inner Sun

& are not isolated humanoids.

We sequence emanations that

they do not even know are possible!

among their cubicles & mortgages.

We flourish carefully, refining our

proportions, watch The World with wide bright eyes.

“Peering through a window pane at a transmitting bee” (2015)

It was as though that bee had tried to speak

with those gesticulations of her legs

& thorax, one leg sometimes rubbing past

her head. She finally whirred off in a huff,

not having gotten through to me at all.

“Dageurrotype” (2015)

Dickinson, who called itself "Least Figure

on the Road", burnt out its codependent

ape mind and continued on its mission.

Those desiring further information

should see Schopenhauer's lifelong work on

the renunciation of the will.