Orbital Resonance

We fall into crevices

yawning open within

folds of our inner

convolutions and then


we drift beneath

the slipstream of

our memories

down river fading

in the silver moonlight




canted from our star whose

radiance keeps hid behind

the face of this world grimacing

alone in the dark along

the mad spiral dance

of its extensive solo


pirouette performance

to a stunning climax before

an absent crowd something of

the barren gets transferred to

the stage and back thoroughly

recycled for the maintenance

of a perpetual continuity




the show must go on

for the satisfaction of

no one but the ghosts

auditioning in the aisle

Circus Act 334

scaving like a carvy rat
sleeting in the byway
careening in a critter
curve skittled skywise
gerfenherders on the
rampaging textes keys
slendered along the
crevices of locksmiths

with enterprises relocating
precious gems and stones
aboundless ascertaining when
their accrued polarity emerges
adjustant to a proleotariat
tip toed on the tight rope

skippy skipping tea
hee haw mistress
one for the knuckle
and two for the show
eight to get married
in a sudden disaster
four to go to court
for a divorce
in the snow five
to hold against them
for the rest of their lives
six to stand ahead of them
while looking for new wives
seven on the circumstance
upon which this condition drives
and all ten watched the nine
see it happen all over again

the carousel's turning not
clockwise nor sound
may keep up with its singular
advancement starbound
toward a pathway carved
next to all the rest left behind
as fossilized tracers lit up

the echoes of everything
 else pick it up
on the sonar so to
speak and its traveling
now all over the course
 of the rocks laid
along the river way
babbling over stones

DEAD SPEECH RESURRECTION

   

    How does the abandoning of an ideal impact the human being going through this?
Consider the impact that nothing has on absolutely everything in the known universe.
This is tantamount to the impact ideals have on human beings absolute zero its not measured.
To begin with, there's no such thing as everything. That's all a made up lie. 

You can see it in reverse at the end of the telescope if you flip the image and magnify it 

back to normal size. There's no denying its no longer the same image but at least it extrapolates 

from the imprint. So do ideals serve as guidelines to shepherd us into a corral, so to speak, 

where we remain more or less in the right neighborhood. What if we feared the freedom

 to speak and advised wisely to all coming into this place that the less one says the better 

overall (for reasons themselves which are best left unstated)?

     It's hard to say, or that is, to refrain from saying, as the case may very well should have been.
If freedom of speech goes without saying then its becoming necessary to justify putting limitations 

on speech. It's this very justification that in fact should be preserved at all costs with the individual 

in order for that entity's rights to be safeguarded. In other words freedom of speech really means 

having the freedom of knowing when not to speak at all, and having that freedom defended at all cost. 

    When everything is A-OK, there really doesn't remain anything of that much importance to say. 

It's when things aren't fine that we need the guaranteed freedom to say what the situation demands 

us to, and no limitation should be imposed nor any presuppositions in whatever guise they may present themselves should inhibit our right to remain silent.  People deserve the right to default back to the 5th in order to preserve their inherent innocence. Speech isn't dead when there's nothing left to be said. Speech is dead when you and I are not allowed to say nothing.  Just as it's most alive when you and I are allowed to say anything we please. 

Metaphagic Bitten Markings

   It was in the darkest sense that he ate her. 

Ate her away up and out from the inside. 

From champing open wide with his mouth 

perpetually glued to the seams. It seems 

unreal thinking about it now her head 

in a whirl memories going around as if 

in a carousel that won't stop with a carnival 

melody that won't slow down in a frantic and 

celebratory mood of abandon it chants repeatedly 

we should take action to consider gloaming along 

on the ride into town as we wander on in we shouldn't 

turn around nor pay any attention to the marauding segues 

to this song charting the territories of the instances in which 

we all must settle down along for the decelerating motion to a stop. 

WHAT IS BECOMING PLAIN

The systems of the world
may never end, but we will.

To become the system
simply observe it.

Any energy not spent
towards your dream is
wasted.

Despite this withering
tomb stone each one
of us are immortal.

The world will continue
to remain intransigent.
(a fleeting thing, really)
We will continue to shine

The Asylum of Starry Ghosts

by  thornswrath

Ghosts may appear as traces of electromagnetism lingering here on Earth before surrendering to the cold void.  The Ghost in the Machine refers to the collective portion of galaxies which have long since burned out and cooled off in the vast cauldronic core of our universe. When we peer deep into the nucleus of our cosmos, we necessarily gaze in a direction diametrically opposed from that spot which has been established as being our own, here on planet Earth.  

All telescopes since their advent in the early 17th century have one thing in common:  their function is to magnify details that are not farther away than us and our terrestrial location in space (for that would be impossible, and in direct contradiction to the nature of our position in creation, which incidentally happens to already be, by definition, that which exists the farthest away from all remaining points in the universe), therefore, a telescope's function is to zoom in on the various details which comprise the deep inner essence of the macrocosm (itself the central core making up the heart of creation) which in effect and execution happens to be the self-negating echo of the disappearing traces of existence's different and explosively varied manifestations since the inception of our singular expanding cosmos.    

In other words, telescopes are in actuality that which allow us to observe deeply into the interior of reality, which in effect appears now to us as the dead reflection of a once vital heart; while microscopes remain the instruments which in fact bring to view the farthest and outermost territories of our still-expanding universe, the blown out living skin, our greatest organ.  It is our typical understanding of the difference between how microscopes and telescopes work which appears to be entirely backwards.  In short, telescopes actually look in, while microscopes look out.  This unassailable fact is such an obvious and fundamental truth that it should really go without saying, yet I feel as if I must repeat it here due to my sneaking and ever-dawning suspicion that most of us have been quietly assuming otherwise for the greater portion of our lives; for us to have understood this fundamental tenet of our existence in a manner entirely the opposite from which it actually is.  

Speaking for myself at least, I can testify that I have certainly been perceiving it backwards for most of my developing adult life, and have only recently begun to comprehend why.  For this reason I am grateful to have ascertained what I now refer to as the Law of Inversion, my place-holder or label, if you will, which best encapsulates what I consider to be the one philosophy comprised of the gathered perspectives of so many before them that coalesces into its optimal expression.   

To further focus in on the essence of this conviction, one need only take this Law of Inversion and apply it to any or all aspects of one's perception of our nature.  In deed we appear to be the latest development along a startling evolution having resulted from an endless series of such inversions of perspective that in effect we have come to now stand upon our world without being able to absolutely determine what in actuality is "up" or "down"; "in" or "out";  and ultimately "real" or "fantasy;"--such is the condition of our lot--trapped out here in our inexorable solitude and ultimate freedom amid a crowd of lost stars.     

Welcome to what I have termed the Asylum of Starry Ghosts, a sanctuary where souls interact largely oblivious to one another's presence.  A sort of mirror held up by dancing pixels for us to peer into darkly and see ourselves from a different angle in order to gain a fresh perspective.  A web log representing a gleaming nodal point amid a vast interlinked network of hypertext documents comprising digital reproductions of most all the knowledge our species has gathered together over the course of human history since the dawning of the Paleolithic era.  

If you are reading this currently, congratulations.  You are literally the cutting edge of the blossoming essence of creation itself.  You have made it to the farthest possible fringes of our expanding universe.  There is absolutely nowhere further you could possibly explore except for what lies directly about you in your particular area of the world, with nothing but time on your side.  It's up to you to take your adventure ever further.  Perhaps we will meet someday at a point beyond this horizon.  If not, may your journey into the unknown fare well.  I am excited about and grateful for your company.  With an enthusiastic bravado I retain for all comrades in the midst of their eternal quest, I offer to each soul reading this here and now a heartfelt and explicit "Hello".

wind on water

 

Get a moving house 

or start unplugging.

Try to relax 

in a crowd, 

you can't. 

An excess of clutter 

conjures old shadows.

This is how your life 

becomes a haunting. 

Feng shui as an ancient 

form of exorcism.

So I ask, "what have we 

here exactly today?"  

Shadows hiss from 
a wooden train's rails.

I'll miss my demons 

as much as they 
will miss me.