posted on Apr, 29 2007 @ 07:10 PM
The Inquisitor remembers all of his past lives. Presumably, including the ones, in which he crucified us. He takes himself far too seriously; consumed
and emboldened by a strange alchemy.
By felicity of God's Graces, hazard was intervened: In the meantime, I turned the tables on the Inquisition, with witch - "Conducting". Frightful
'French' emails in Mary Shelly's name and an 'Operatic Phantom', joined in the game.
Compiled - poetic afterthoughts of gargoyles and scorpions and the folly of things, (Inquisitor seems to enjoy Ecclesiastes as well as the
Rosary)..shares knowledge freely, and there is bread there too...Corinthians and lost cats are always well to do..,
in the long run - 'A Tribute' - we pray, in all the ways tribute mean, with an eye to the Song Sung, on the eighth day - something like a 'Big
Bang', on an Inquisitive day.
Black Elk revised the resurrection, when he laughed and he joked. Schopenhauer lamented freedom - "A man can be himself only so long as he is alone;
... if he does not love solitude, he will not love freedom; for it is only when he is alone that he is really free." And Schiller relayed -
"There's no such thing as chance; and what to us seems merest accident springs from the deepest source of destiny." A poetic tale of clearwater's
departures with Frankenkitty, who toys with gargoyles guarding the gate, tiger/scorpions, flights of fancy and dangerous dreams. In light of the
supreme self service of poetic pleasure: Some choice phantom of the poopy dread and wonderful things with an eye for the eighth day and the song that
Witch and Inquisitor
In 499 years, 8 months,
13 days, 49 minutes and 15, 14, 13, 12,
We might once again play witch and inquisitor.
And the next time
maybe witch will
have the upper hand.
Baptized in the waters of Creation
Risking arguments with trees
dancing lightly on the winds of Thunderbirds
Rotting Corpse on a Peg
I've planted the huluppu tree in the jungle
huluppu tree, huluppu tree, huluppu tree.
I've ran with the seed in my hand to the jungle
and planted the huluppu tree.
Huluppu cries the serpeant is welcome,
Anzu sets her young on the branches
and Lilith may come and go as she please.
Huluppu tree, huluppu tree, huluppu tree
Enki is robbed of his treasures
they've flown to the jungle with me.
A Sucker Born Every Minute
Slam is angry and twice as loud,
offers succor to a drunken crowd.
Hip hop once spoke up for the meek,
Now hanging teats out for a corporate beat.
Imagism fills in color without lines
offering challenge of an anorexic kind.
Lit dim reading rooms and coffee shops
washed-out faces holding tarot cards.
Whimsical women lithe and sweet
blandly rhyming off on the color of leaves.
Nausea and culture shock -
Pulls the chain right out of the top
of the toilet.
Reason sometimes falters and can't go on.
Padre Pio may seem all but gone.
Hunger dogging every step -
wondering how the mess isn't dead yet.
Take time out to write a line
how pride is built on falsehoods and lies -
Shiny new pennies of the Inquisitor's mint.
Sparked into fire with the Inquisitor's flint.
Flames fed on bones and blood
bearing the weight the crimes -
Christmas, Easter, and all the time.
No sentence, no hope, no voice to tell a
crowd of well-wishers, no water, no place
nothing to live - on, or for, but, Grace.
Luckiest of lucky is a fine joke
because the house never loses
it's the children that croak.
Offer them up to the prison cells -
Scarcity of money
dwindling down from boomer wells.
Sent off to foreign war
sold into slavery as whores.
Pumping it out every night on the net
where husbands find solace from the needs of their wives.
So step right up and hedge the bets
Are you feeling lucky? - There's a long shot ahead -
Better to listen to hearts and not heads.
Never easy with loss, this too shall pass.
No rage for the whimper
that rises up from the chest
and expels itself on a breath
Just a shell that holds the rest
in, a bit of muscle, sinew, skin -
a bit of thinking how it might have been better.
House lights on a final curtain
floods the room with nothing certain
Forgiveness Pretty Sunshine
was born into the world today.
Her French mother will call her Soleil
and her English father will obey.
When a scorpion is born
and when a scorpion dies
someone is born.
Forgiveness is a Capricorn.
Bow down Gilgamesh
To the ending grain harvest -
Hewing the tree of life for Goddess
To build her cage your nest.
Bow down Enki, Dumuzi,
Bow down at Girtab -
Kiss the ground
Claw the earth
To hide there.
Buried as you buried her.
Comes now your harvest
Shelah na Gig and the Phallus Worshipers
Julian the Giddy will guard the portal willingly
though the audience low -
Keen moon exuberance
in the dusty misbegotten
halls of the ghost of glory,
where knights fail the grail,
their eyes growing dim
as Julian's brightness grows.
Gardens and doorways
under mistletoe and marriage proposals
Shelah na Gig and the phallus worshipers.
Pomegranate is sweet in Hades
for spanky's giddy na gig.
Prisoner's of War
Wild in the forest
under a black sky
speckled with smiling lights
with a direction to abide -
You're always home.
There are no visitors
it's everyone's abode.
Lost in the forest
is lost in the soul.
A stubborn cut
congealed in place
blame always brings a blush.
Spirals and circles
Wondering helplessly -
What's the rush?
Orphaned for meaning
from banking machines.
Paying for the privilege
to dictate and name.
up, down, north, south -
upside down -
What gets put in a mouth,
when, how much
and what comes out -
What makes it talk happy
and what makes it talk sad
how much it will cost
to make it talk bad -
dictated down to the last second
ticking on the face of a clock
as if time were of the essence
[edit on 29-4-2007 by clearwater]