Don’t they know? They are all just electromagnetic pulses All just embryos in the body Of motherMatterMaterMatrix Placental playscapes practicing for ultimate Power in the Now Or Never Dont they know? They all suck from the teat of the Same name What’s the Formula for this false Game? What’s the concoction that allows the blame To be placed outside Fingers pointed in chiding derision Forgetting that the Self Makes its own decisions And needs no Other to order decrees A sovereign Being earns its degrees On the zodiacal wheel No permission needed from any Pretense of Real Power This is Ours It’s now and Flowers Unfold when the hour is too old To cower any longer behind the soul Of latency The Elect of Life Electricity Spermatic emphatic God of pregnancy Sparks divine creation In Magnetic womb , magdalenes elation To carry the sonic boom Of natures embodied satiation Sacred Sacred ….. Scared with hatred and fake matrix Manipulation They all scream All hide in foggy dreams denying Their own hand in this plagiarism The Cluster of Cells where In-dwells the Hint Of sacrificial embodiment Asks only to hold the mirror Do you know? Do you know Who you are? Are you a gob of flesh Staring into the abyss of imprisonment Angry at fragments of your own Disillusionment? Fears and tears and shame from years Of traumatic wounds And dismemberment? Are you a pulsing electromagnetic spectacle Of stardust impregnated into the divine mother I-And-US Unfolding embryonic supersonic lust For Life Wandering Waves of cosmic Dust Dancing the dream of Being As Body Bleeding with the intense need To See The True Seed that grows within This multidimensional PlayPen Again and again. What’s the Formula for the artificial Algorithm That tosses you to and fro From -ism to -ism Falling prey to the slayers Of minds beauty And truth And dangling your sovereign self From the tight noose Of proof That red fish blue fish One fish two fish Keeps the Me And the You Twisted Into dichotomy Wishing for ancient sanctions So patiently Doctoring reality To give permission To step out of this glistening Wet-dream Steeped In sterile Seeds Injected into bodies That no longer Bleed. Free. The Self. And See. Differently.
I am.....a Jester playing on the chessboard of Space-Time...
a seamstress of dreams and a weaver of of seams
clothing the soul in rhythm and rhyme
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