Tag Archives: Phenomenology

I

​Since consciousness is clearly used as a transdimensional rootkit by all even advanced life to what extent does control apply on both sides?





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Entitled

Were you there

when I woke with ankles chained to coral

could you hear it 

when I woke I was surrounded

how many of them were there

when I woke strapped down the serum inching

what was it that was murmured 

when I woke five filaments of hyphae

was it just a dream

when I woke a full lotus flame

were you absolutely certain

when I woke the ground getting closer


[name redacted]

 

Used to crush fourteen hour days—
now I rely on machines

We’d all be sittin’ or standin’
there under fluorescent lights

Would wear my headphones most of
the time in my own world of techno

Snipping away at the moment meditating
smoking charas constantly for weeks

I noticed you looked young for your
age, a mother, late-thirties—you were
jealous of my speed—

Like a modern witch with your skinny
short dark hair, black hoody and pale skin—

They’d come and go maybe twelve in all—
but it was your intense energy

That stood out to me the most—
we had something in common

You were beyond me in some ways—
we had feet on both sides

Hands that had reached through other
worlds and everybody knew it—

How long we spent in this room was
irrelevant for we were somewhere
else entirely all along—

Seeing you livid on the phone brought me
some strange hope that I was not alone—

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / 


It was pure automata—one evening
you approached me from behind—

Scissors no longer in hand
you worked your way into my shoulders

My neck—my back straightened out—
you shifted something biomechanical
on the right side of my throat—

We both felt it move as I was subsequently
propelled from reality into an all-too-familiar
neon vortex of light—

Fuck I must be dead—just like that!
There goes my aorta!

Yet through the timeless persistence it became
apparent that back there I was still living—

You were still pressing
while I was still flying—

You were still standing
I was still sitting—

And no one else in the room
had any idea what was happening

///////////////////////////////////////////////////

When I came back I told you
and everyone else

In endogenous ecstasy and disbelief
all was fiery—aglow and reassembling—

The dynamics of possibility may reveal itself
as gifts you can receive only once—

What was this that set us apart—brought us together—
and is it that which makes us just like everybody else

 

 

 

 

The sound

   Vaporizing harmine
  & harmaline all
blue and green

  We’d speed up
 pitch tempo and time
every night

   The powdery taste
  of their cherryish
boiling points

      The agents
     isolated
    from esphand
   to ward
  the evil
 eye

Of our time

   Who knocks
  on the door
 that hasn’t burned
the acrid seed

  I could
 feel myself
unlatching

   There at the crux
  of my departure
 was the potato-gun-like
sound

  This was all
standard procedure

   The cylindrical THWONK
  of something launching—
 something exploding—
beyond loud—

  Letting go
 into a crescendo
of lifetimes

  Awakening
 to a roulette
of new beginnings

Again and again


Dissociate

              how the moment
seems so much
                             longer
                                            more in-depth
        increasing
                                  in silver
                twilight                     
      he knew
          how to ride                   the winds
                               of words
  he knew
              he was never
  goin’ back                                           to that
                                                                 god dang

Far on the south
   side of the war
        machine, in
                a restaurant
   in France,
         with a date
                who doesn’t know
                         her black dress
        is visible from here
                         through the zero zero
                              capsule he ate
                                      nine hours before
                                            the wine—still
                    not enough time—
            the fan blowing
       on my face
in California

  

The red balloon haiku

I was up all night
dripping the vial out until
it was depleted

had a plane to catch
so I packed a medical
brownie for the ride

which started kicking
in as we began to climb
thirty thousand feet

everything melting
warm pastel cozy plane ride
start to drift away

but instead I wake’d
upon a small green planet
with a spring blue sky

so small you could run
around it and wind up back
right where you started

all covered in grass
looking up at the floating
red balloon up there

in the clear blue sky
learning not to look away
‘else it starts to fall

so I did for a
while until I didn’t I
got quite distracted

on the grass planet
everything neon dancing
unexplainable

sitting full lotus
in a lucid dream flying
back at the body

remember the plane
and the floating red balloon—
run back to find it

no longer floating
This is your captain speaking
wake’d to the landing

The everything everywhere

If we can hover
up above ourselves
sometimes

then we are here
to train our
minds

we built temples
that no one else
could see

the temples of death
inscribed with rainbow
sharpies

The world is still on fire
the flames that singe
the soul

white Cessna of morning
soars a shallow sky
like a stingray