Can you Spell it out for me, misterDream? Can you tell me how to open the twisted screen? In the back room of this microcosmic vacuum sits a dialectical demon with a face that looks like me... spilling simple satire with the fire of certainty.
Can the foggy mirror be wiped clearer, by the hand of the man who refuses to stand for the nearest and dearest hearts of the clan?
Let's see, let's discern the irony... The mires that we have chosen to believe that seed this dying creed of iron deeds locked in steal with grips of fear on fiery steeds ..... Twisting the plot and trotting thru electricFields that yield the knots and tangled spokes from the turning Wheel that broke the Seal between WhatIs & WhatIsNot. For Real. Man. What a crazy Plan . A Game of Planes and PassionsOfPan dancing thru the degrees of Am. PM me with the lowdown, whisper in rumors of what's going around, we can thicken the desperate drama and Play like Clowns.... Tricksters testing Paradox and Talking UpsideDown, we can rockAndRoll through Sight and Sound as the chessboard wavers on the merryGoRound.... SinEwaves savoring Light as the curtain goes down.....
Scene One is seen Thru, it was Planned Too.... Dangling Dialectic from the ceiling of this BleedThrough.... Hegel wrote the words to spell out the Game that's played in the dressing Room as the audience waits, debating the nature of isolation as Indig.Nations fates are flavored with States of Vexation as Altered Carbon caters to the next mutation.....
Shadows shadows shadows on the wall, good guys bad guys rise and fall, breath by breath and life by death and brick by brick we build the Wall, one by one and None by All.... Too mixed up to heed the Call.... Three times Charmed with shock&awe as For the record the Lines are drawn....... Phi.ve times LifeTimes Venus FlyTrap dines on Tangled EyeCons in the dance of Dreaming dodecahedrons.... Sixual Mayhem birthing through Us & Them in triangular penetrations of particulars in WaveWeaves of instinctual variations ... Sexagonal vibration as the Exact Middle Compromise of Creation interrupting Infinite Potentiation.... A rupture of the hymen that seeks satiation.... Virginal Seven in Deep initiation never divided nor multiplied inSide of TenTs of Mind that abide in Destin(ysAb)ation .....zen.... Within.... The W.Eight of the Gate of the Octave that initiates the Fate of the sacred States of Self inDwelling in Games of Play in Nine Lives ReWinding on hard drives and BytesOfTime spitting Neurolinguistic prayer in rhyming software that invites the Tribe to Dive Into the broken binary groove of Moving Truths .... Wholeness split into Ten threadBare bits of DecaDent Twists of the loom as looping recursion creates diversion in hateful versions of fleshExcursions as ELeven RightAngles Dangle from heaven as Self appointed gods&angels of the ArcOftheCoven In tangled tests of woven GovernMent....
Sovereign exploration of the Self InDignation that forces the faces of contortion of Space&Time to confront the Mirror of the Mind and gather the Fragments scattered Inside as Self ReMembers It Turns Its Own Tides and inJoys The ride of the Twelve archetypal Primes as the Rhyme subsides and the Waves enGraved in playful Mazes Fade into GroundZero .... The center of the Spindle of the Core Processor.... the chessboard squares dwindle and melt in predecessors of Jesting Jesters inGesting Lessons from Gestation .....
Ahhhhhh.....the Spell is Broken.... A simple Token as the spoken narration nestles into a quiet corner of this newly Woken Nation.....
Jezebel paint yourself, a picture leave nothing uncolored- a mask, a picture of hell. âRid yourselfâ- they shriek âthe demon must fallâ around my body they swarm casting their hatred like stones to bury me. I am Jezebel. I am your sin. I am the demons within. Caress my solitude with those soft, delicate hands- father time? Mother earth? Holy ghost? âŠhaunting the world and its hells I beckon you master divine to let your lips meet mine. I'll swallow you in lustful kiss and wrap you in sinful bliss. You cowards, afraid to create your own heaven- but willing to cast me into your hell.... How cruel my fate- to be Jezebel.
The twitch of Dreamtime As stitched open eyes Find Time To cope with Spaces deep inside
I am full with Child Ripe with fruit Nerves on fire With the desire To open the womb And carry thru This seed of truth
Where and when and how Did the germination Take place? I canât seem to remember The breath of Grace That spoke to me That broke the hymen And woke the seed
My belly is swollen And round The active fractal Of self within The shroud Tumbles around with forceful Kicks As I wander thru psyches Maze of bricks Trying to be found
It is Time
In this Space
Just like in waking life So many moons ago A nodal cycles synodic flow
Sudden fear For just a moment Can I open wide enough To deliver the Numen Can I bear the terror Of this movement As the veil tears And bares The burden Of Being Human?
Do I push It thru Or does It Split me In Two Into New Moons And Minds As Daimons ride The wave with me⊠Cry out in pain with me⊠Wade thru stains Of bloody chains That break when the waters Pour out of me ?
Breathe Let go Itâs so Real I Feel It burst thru Huge Alive Wide eyed And thriving Outside Of Me
My GoddessâŠ.! âŠ.The Beauty The Wonder the Wisdom Of Womans Body Alethias forgotten Melody My GodâŠ..! âŠ.My God Thou hast christened me Theos unLoosed From crystalline Seams.
Now to nurture At the breast Turn blood to milk Like water to wine As I climb inside The feathered nest Of the divine
I remember Then The Name of him From which This body Born from me Was given the spark From electric seed
Full exposure Nowhere to hide The sight of the light And the scope of the size Of this daimon in dream This daimon in me This playful parade Of uncertainty Birthing me From within
A mirror of matters magical Twins As Mater and Pater Outside and In join At the hip And dance and spin Deliciously tangled In SineWave Grins.
The Stitch of Dreamtime As twitching I~s Rewind Time In Spaces opened from Inside..
Charleen Johnston 7-26-2024
(Based in last nights vivid dream of pregnancy and giving birth)
Patterns patterns on the wall HumPty Splattered from the Fall Broken Shells are cloaked in veils Of masked mouths in modern sprawl Twisting tales and telling lies And pointing Fingers at the I's We build the burden of our own demise Fill the garden with Sown Reprise With complicit cowardice we cast the Die And wait for Fu(h)ror to Rise the Tide Oh sweet Souls who hide enDemic Panic Beneath the ruse of false compassion We Wove this World and Play within It Keyholes In Cells we Formed and Fashioned
A witch I am not, nor sorceress, nor Magician manipulating thought and mind No wizard am I, nor priest divine, nor Queen in the temple of space and time⊠Instead, in red, and black and white A jester playing with alchemical sight A fool whose tools are broken rules That twist and turn in spools of light⊠A psychopomp that swims thru veils A trickster telling twisting tales That provoke the nodes and neural codes To waken from their Prizm Cells
The mind points out itâs own precision The pen tip presses upon the page The blank sheets are washed and dried as bleeding crimes in tangled lines Are hung to dry with dripping rage
The mind draws lines with its own decisions The desperate drama of dreams debate The Carpet rolls out the curtains rise The Callosum opens its Myelin eyes As actors weave axioms upon the stage
The mind circles round its own confusion The neural nodes nap within the cage The fasciculus finds and hooks the hive The fissure formed from space and time Is stitched to heal with macrophageâŠ.
âŠ.the ritual bell, the wafting smell of Burning sages in prizm cells, Hanging from the dangling nous, The heart bares scars from tearing youth From the of searing truth of heaven and hellâŠ
âŠthe eye of the hurricane is on its way, to ransack and flapjack the core of all our brains, speeding up the rate at which we perceive the perforation, the fate of which could rip and tear a nation, a station, a fusion of minds incoherent redundant grasping for meaning but dormant fleeing the feeling of torment peeling the rots from the dealings and knots from the zealous run leper run
run leper run its all just for fun on a level so deep its not understood does it make it less Real does it make it less concrete does it make it worth the run the gun the gripping of the sun in attempt to hide defeat
SMILE on the periphery it is a storm, a chaos, an insistence on resistance but at the core, itâs unchanged, it neverwas and neverwillbe, and neveris, but still existing giving us the balance to create lands in time hands in line to co create with malleable laws
implicate order enfolded within each explicate experience shooting out from the source in fractals of difference and intensity and vibration and density till the impulse reaches completion loses its thrust coarsens its vibration yet mimics the One and then begins its evolution back to the Within with all the cohesion of experience and lessons and soulsparks and mouldings holding on to Awareness as it ascends back to the heart of the hologram to enrich the totality of all that is with each divine perspective as it returns and ReTurns the wheel as the cycle continues and spins out again the impulsion the force the flickering light of love to enforce the dynamic dance of desperate dreamsâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠ
Neo keeps phyting But he never wins A young seed planted Stays right Where it is Itâs all A game of poles n holes Seeds in Soils And sines in souls Aligned in Time And Min.e.d from molds Too loose for truth To blindly fold As Neos Phyte And Architects build The battleground Where Agents Will PreScriptZions into Being As Oracles play at seeing Through the Dream Or through the Codes As Bleeding Seams To implode the nodes As Neo Phytes for Trinity Inside the Womb of Destiny ImPlantAtIon FertileEyes Jesters Gestating In DisGuise Poking holes in ParaDise ReVersing poles as sacrifice Alchemy of space and Time The Lamed Smith goads the Mine Turning Metals into MindâŠâŠ
ShhhhhhâŠâŠ Donât write so loud- They might hear (Prying eyes that hide Inside Minds that fearâŠ) These words tiptoe Down stairs Under where No one else knows⊠Somas Rose So full of Charge I fear I am larger Than Life can holdâŠ. Lead into Gold As SunLight UnFolds Me From this bed Of salted tears I made As Dream wakes me Into playful prose Disguised inside These fleshly clothesâŠ. That only a Poet Could Know.