The tesseraction

When we woke
there was a voice
saying each of our names—

Nothing would be the same
ever again—

Namaste in the way
we distrust—
extracting pure consciousness
just to drown in it—

Entire colonies were wiped out—
notes were taken—
the moon used to spew lava
but now it’s dead—

We were an infinite’s last ditch effort
just to show us what we had done—

We worshipped money as a god—
gnawing on nothing;
plastic skin smooth
as a succulent in the sand—
we could no longer keep quiet—
we deserted—

We burned the whole world
to the ground— we apologized
as a formality; we paid out;
we kept going—

The cancer of the last phase
of civilization reaches
into my voice—
my finger tips—
we held hands as we jumped—
we turned into liquid—

Prefabricated minds
spill down the grimy gutter
into the sewer that’s sieved
for bitter water; your river of life
full of garbage, human waste, torsos—
we wondered why we felt bad—
we were given experimental drugs—
we died in their hands—

We practiced medicine
by the fire burning into the night—
we could see into one another—
we carved our faces out of clay—
we wore the feathers of the dead—
we didn’t have an address,
it didn’t even matter—

There was nothing left—
we evaporated—
condensated along
the shattering glass—
biolumenesence; a map
where there was once skin—
we didn’t need to wear masks—
we were the reaching leaves
and the lichenlicked statues—
we sat still—
we wore off—

We got down on our knees
and pressed the white hot metal
gently into our sockets
with a singe—

They said that half the people
born this year
will never see the milky way—
never see their home—
never see themselves—

How many will be afraid
to look into the mirror—
how many will never know—
never close their eyes and dissolve—
never to see the stained glass
tesseraction aglow spinning slowly
hanging from an iron chain
in the temple of stone—
never to take a deep breath
or submerge their frigid bodies
in the cold clean river—

Never to have a vision
or a dream— you were molded
from the start— you sought refuge
under the wings of corruption—
even the vultures were almost gone—

How many will get the opportunity
and say no— or get a taste
and run away thinking they know—

We went in as far as you could go—
we were relentless—
we stopped at nothing—
if there were others
they were nowhere to be found—
we unearthed what they were hiding—
we disappeared—

We were not haunted
but there was something there—
we walked
until our whiskers froze solid—
until we could conduct
our final experiment—
we were ready
at less than a moments notice—

We didn’t know where we were going—
it didn’t matter—
we were already there

We ran
while we rested—
we were being hunted—
we had permanent files—
we couldn’t care less—

How many will never see the fog
thick in the morning under the canopy
of the forest— never to be stalked
by a mountain lion— never to lay
naked on a bed of pine
beside a fire of eyes with mydriasis;
we could feel it coming for us—

The electric fence no longer worked—
it was time to go downstream—
we adapted to being in a zoo—
we let them use us as lab rats—
we never forgot— we
could see it in the sky
reflecting off of their eyes—

We lit the galactic temple incense—
we never let the fire burn out—
it was burning us alive—
we scoured the dark grey landscape
for anything real—
we were sweating—
swatting flies like it was a ritual—

They tried to forcefeed us
their version of highest-bid history—
made a Greek tragedy out of New York City—
there’s too much money to be made
in destruction; it corrupted us;
it was more profitable than life;
turned people into monsters and slaves—
we were at war without end—

We had clay covered skin—
we drew spirals on the wall—
we could see them looking at us
while we slept— it was rigged
from the very beginning—
we carved notches into our necks—
we tattooed our minds—
we got as far away as we could get
as if it made a difference—

We foraged thru the ice—
we were surrounded
by a dwindling abundance—
we poisoned ourselves—
we were hallucinating
our entire existence—
we ripped our teeth out
with our bare hands—
we squatted on the tundra;
canoed into nowhere—

We were thin and getting thinner
like a rag wrung out—
like a hatchet thrown dead on
into a trunk—

We knew what we were looking for—
we were back to square one—
we had come full circle—
we weren’t coming back—

How many will never be summoned
awake by the call of the voice—
never to inject pure crystalline
lucidity on their deathbed intravenously—

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148 thoughts on “The tesseraction

  1. WAVErealm

    I read this, from start to finish, aloud. You are talented. It flows like freestyle rap, performed by a kid that escaped from reality by creating fast-paced lyrical dreams.

    Reply
  2. Andrea N Carr

    I am not alone, my first thought after reading this article. I was in a meditative state of mind at the moment, when I came here. I was asleep and woke up from many visions in my dreams. While wondering what they mean, I happened to read your post. I feel comforted from your bravery, as I see it. To write what I can only feel, as of yet.

    Reply
    1. richwrapper

      Wanting – ok, hoping – for a tasty snack I fell into a banquet entire. I will have to chew this I suspect several more times. Getting my own blog underway and painted all prettily will keep me off-site for a while but I have no qualms saying: reserve me a table!

      Reply
  3. Carneika W

    So intense it made me feel uncomfortable.. But I feel like it’s supposed to. It was hard to get through but I’m glad I did.

    Reply
  4. Pingback: The tesseraction | cornerofrain

  5. loujenhaxmyor

    This is one of the few extensive examples of verse that held my attention all the way through. You certainly created a vivid picture with this one. Will have to return to read more of your stuff. Peace.

    Reply
  6. Andrew

    Interesting – but very long. Hard to read all that free verse…
    (Title evokes Madeleine L,s kid fiction which I still love.)

    I will explore your blog.

    Reply
  7. Lola Elvy

    I love the lines ‘We burned the whole world / to the ground— we apologized / as a formality; we paid out; / we kept going’

    Reply
  8. charlypriest

    I believe that the best word to describe this art piece is “intense”, nicely written, hard at first to get but that made it much more interesting to keep on reading to the end. Great work indeed. Glad you stumbled upon one of my crazy little post.

    Reply
  9. othermary

    You have some very clever word-play, like the two meanings of desert in the following lines:

    as a succulent in the sand—
    we could no longer keep quiet—
    we deserted—

    Many more as well, but with such a long poem I won’t mention any more. The last stage of civilization and cancer are a sharp comparison, And over-all, the idea of all of us near the end, with our lives all hallucination/dream and finally awakening to all this horrible, destructive reality at the end…it’s all quite chilling and, of course, thought provoking. Well done, you!

    Reply
  10. whereshappy

    Wowza. These words create a picture to match my idea of what the last day of Earth might be like. I always thought that if I could have three wishes one of them would to be present at the end of the world (minus any pain, of course.)

    Reply
  11. Pingback: The tesseraction | richwrapper

  12. Pingback: The tesseraction | orbiting amy

  13. omega

    Yes, let the crystal of knowing replace the doubt and fear. As the illusion fades I fear for those still slumbering, but we must find our way first.

    Reply
  14. CorinneAnderson

    This was a really pleasant read. I always struggle to maintain a lengthy poem; preferring smaller bursts of emotion – but you write extraordinarily well in the long poem form. Thank you for sharing!

    Reply
  15. Isaac

    The style of writing is dark but not overbearing. Morbid but not oppressed. Irony and hints of comic relief are present only enough to create a dawn but no sunrise. It’s wonderful. Please continue.

    Reply
  16. Paul O'Mahony

    In an Irish kitchen, cat licking the taste of sweet milk from breakfast in Cork, surrounded by oranges, raisins and dregs of cold bog/standard tea – you have me brooding. What’s the point of it all? The sharp tip of a life spent writing my afterpiece?
    You, Dante’s mate, have hit the screw on the head.
    Salvation
    Retribution
    Infusion

    Reply
  17. thetruthandpurpose

    You teased this piece in another of your posts, so I had to come look.

    The Wachowskis could have used some of this and saved the last Matrix film. Would have been a beautifully poignant and charged voiceover by Laurence Fishburne or Hugo Weaving. Or something. Just wow.

    How haunting and post-apocalyptic. Embracing and reviling what humanity has seemed to become in the last half century.

    Amazing work. Glad I visited.

    Thanks for checking out my blog so I could find yours.

    Reply
  18. Pingback: The tesseraction | Consciousness creates reality – sanandamelchizedek

  19. Shannon Scheidell

    Wow. Just. The world turned to ice. Freezing in my veins. Is there a point, is it us? Are we the point?

    “we held hands as we jumped—
    we turned into liquid—”

    Jees.

    You’re killing me, here.

    Reply
  20. Kelley Rose

    You took me there… grasped my souls and shook it till the lies fell out… you have spoken words so powerful it has been heard in the halls of creation. Aloha. Mahallo. Thank you. Be blessed

    Reply
  21. 10000hoursleft

    It must have been a dream that brought me to this post because the prophetic msg that led me here no longer exists 😉

    Do you ever get the feeling people see this as your magnum opus? Personally, I have found your work consistent in quality even though at times it feels inaccessible (to me), but still worth pondering and taking away whatever small meaninh I’ve decoded.

    Reply
  22. Pingback: Origins II | Consciousness creates reality

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