Tag Archives: space

Zeno of Elea

The rains come
 It changes
It changes
The window
 It opens
It opens
Particles entangled
 Like lovers
Like lovers
Two times
 Is curving
Is curving
The rains come
 It changes
It changes
The window
 It opens
It opens
Particles entangled
 Like lovers
Like lovers
Two times
 Is curving
Is curving
You want back in
 But you gotta give
 It up to us
Up to us
You want back in
 But you gotta give
 It up to us
Up to us
The rains come
 It changes
It changes
The window
 It opens
It opens
Particles entangled
 Like lovers
Like lovers
Two times
 Is curving
Is curving



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—

The disintegrated

We walked
until our leather faces
hardened into granite—

We do not resuscitate—
this is it—
we made up stories
for sustenance,
we are the living
obsolescence,
sparkplugs in the sandstone

We made plans
but they were useless;
roving what’s left beneath the surface
plundering ourselves opaque—
we wasted our lives

I saw right through you
took off your gloves

We could no longer take it,
we made it all up,
we acted like it wasn’t happening—
there was only one thing
that could be done—
an interactive horrorshow
unravelling before our eyes
with no end; a soup of souls;
a hijacked foundation of petri dishes
cascading over old burial grounds

Customized isomers fitted sublingually
for exogenous metabolization
infects us— there is no other way—
millions of billions of moons
that die when you close your eyes—
we drove away—
we dropped out—

We were going home,
drown the leeches in gasoline—

We all had the keys to blow our heads clean off
but no one dared,
you could never look back—
we couldn’t say no—
no one listened, no one could fathom—
we were the few and far-between,
we were coming back,
we sang before we got here,
we lived for only one day

We weren’t learning
we were remembering—
we never gave up,
never believed— we were waiting
for the right time
but it never came—
we were afraid of doing anything; we disintegrated

Your legs boiled over with black holes
growing hair—
we knew we would never find each other in this wasteland—  I fell in love
with a plant—
we were on a hunger strike
but no one could hear,
no one cared—

We drank straight from the source,
worshipped the light of death in the mountains—
we made eye contact,
thought we knew each other—
we were not in control–
we were being watched
by a microscopic scaffold—
we fermented in the dark
dank dwellings we called our homes—

We sucked each others tails off—
we knew all along—
biosynthetic circulation proves them wrong— you actually believed them—
it couldn’t be heard on the outskirts—

We fucked on the ashes of us to come
like it was a joke—
we were realer than real—
we glowed in the dark—
we spoke their language
but they couldn’t understand—

We were sick; caught in a circuit—
we didn’t know there was a way out—
we woke up dead—
they thought they could outlaw the reset button
already inside of us—