Saturday 21 September 2013
A Quiet Rage Built.
A Quiet Rage Built.
Sept. 2013
By Abraham
Na’Sasan.
Materialistically a minimalist but
Holistically
Ballistic, but gifted
and
criminally ordained as spiritually
insane.
Realistically though still so curious so
still stoically seeking
Skeptical,
the mystic,
Holistically
Ballistic, but gifted
and
criminally ordained as spiritually
insane.
Realistically though still so curious so
still stoically seeking
Skeptical,
the mystic,
Allegedly
Meandering in Kwangtung mean-
fully through a miasma of neoclassicism mist shrouded
memories
Mimicking berserk
symphonies of symmetry
Like Sophocles,
Surfacing subliminally
Conveniently
Preaching hysterically the black
thoughts of philosophy
From atop the black rock of
hypocrisy
stimulating the stigmatism’s of
that mob mentalities of
democracy.
While
Ideally leaving
During the epitome
Of the war of the heroic
fathers,
Where
lives Hercues
Who,
Confiscated the conspiracies of
the isosceles,
When mathematics dissolved into prophecy,
then was given to the Pharisees to be carried with the daily ideologies with a match,
and a tank of kerosene,
Meandering in Kwangtung mean-
fully through a miasma of neoclassicism mist shrouded
memories
Mimicking berserk
symphonies of symmetry
Like Sophocles,
Surfacing subliminally
Conveniently
Preaching hysterically the black
thoughts of philosophy
From atop the black rock of
hypocrisy
stimulating the stigmatism’s of
that mob mentalities of
democracy.
While
Ideally leaving
During the epitome
Of the war of the heroic
fathers,
Where
lives Hercues
Who,
Confiscated the conspiracies of
the isosceles,
When mathematics dissolved into prophecy,
then was given to the Pharisees to be carried with the daily ideologies with a match,
and a tank of kerosene,
Unceremoniously calling,
“The statue has fallen,”
Gold statue rotted at the base
With gold
Blood clotted at the waist,
The idol screaming,
“It was for you I created this place. So you could ignore all the misery-ridden drudgeries be-
plagued to your race. To let you sleep safely dreaming staked or chained in a cage so you could be forever
uncontagious,
Praise
Always grateful,
and for never enraged.”
and for never enraged.”
And when the body was dragged
back to the hall in autumn,
We didn’t know if it was the
devil or the god that was gone.
So when
Ensued
four years of hurricanes during
harvest winds seeming like a god
furiously breathing,
we knew we could beat it.
Replanted seeds and Re thatched
the roofs of the weak to the
rumble of
A volcano erupting during the
seventh season seething like a
back to the hall in autumn,
We didn’t know if it was the
devil or the god that was gone.
So when
Ensued
four years of hurricanes during
harvest winds seeming like a god
furiously breathing,
we knew we could beat it.
Replanted seeds and Re thatched
the roofs of the weak to the
rumble of
A volcano erupting during the
seventh season seething like a
demon bleeding,
being defeated.
being defeated.
Seeing
We took back our freedom,
so we,
Reinstated Sodom and Gomorrah
and
Burned down the city Eden.
We took back our freedom,
so we,
Reinstated Sodom and Gomorrah
and
Burned down the city Eden.
With
Third eyes blazing
chakras assigned to bursting and
Vibrations heightened to the
planes of the Elysian.
We change finally into light,
Shape: dodecahedron diamond prism,
Charged only with the task
to confront the final beast in us
that used to feed on nothing but
the nothingness that always lived
inside of us.
Greeting beast,
Meet the best of us
Redeemed during deviations from teachings
of revelations,
Third eyes blazing
chakras assigned to bursting and
Vibrations heightened to the
planes of the Elysian.
We change finally into light,
Shape: dodecahedron diamond prism,
Charged only with the task
to confront the final beast in us
that used to feed on nothing but
the nothingness that always lived
inside of us.
Greeting beast,
Meet the best of us
Redeemed during deviations from teachings
of revelations,
of
exodus,
Purged with science by the holy
flames burned during the eighth
eclipse of Prometheus
Purged with science by the holy
flames burned during the eighth
eclipse of Prometheus
Sunday 1 September 2013
Yukonned me.
Tomorrow, I strike for the Yukon.
A long time in the works I have striven lately to make only the decision of where to go, which direction to face. Instead of feeling drawn to any place in particular, I feel like a criminal in the dark ages, being quartered and drawn in each direction by horses, men, and machines.
Residing lately in the lower mainland I find it extremely difficult to tear myself from this beautiful paradise.
Beautiful women, cliffs galore, and forests that poets write essays about, as the beauty can be to overwhelming to be captured in but a few stanzas.
But I know its time to go again, to thrive in isolation and make amends with whims of the universe, ever striving to teach young men to listen and hear the language of the soul of the earth. And to eventually converse in that language of the universe that we might speak as simply to a star as a neighbor.
So hark Father time, Mother Nature,
I go to seek Brother Winter. Having been warned only about the dangers of the land, I strike north to find the beauty. If all else fails Sister Spring then will unthaw my remains. Body damaged but soul intact, my curiosity might have even been sated.
So I go to find quiet, peace, beauty, and inspiration.
Pleased to be fearless in all endeavors I hope to scare the shit out of myself repeatedly.
check in for videos, poetry, updates and hopefully not an obituary column.
A long time in the works I have striven lately to make only the decision of where to go, which direction to face. Instead of feeling drawn to any place in particular, I feel like a criminal in the dark ages, being quartered and drawn in each direction by horses, men, and machines.
Residing lately in the lower mainland I find it extremely difficult to tear myself from this beautiful paradise.
Beautiful women, cliffs galore, and forests that poets write essays about, as the beauty can be to overwhelming to be captured in but a few stanzas.
But I know its time to go again, to thrive in isolation and make amends with whims of the universe, ever striving to teach young men to listen and hear the language of the soul of the earth. And to eventually converse in that language of the universe that we might speak as simply to a star as a neighbor.
So hark Father time, Mother Nature,
I go to seek Brother Winter. Having been warned only about the dangers of the land, I strike north to find the beauty. If all else fails Sister Spring then will unthaw my remains. Body damaged but soul intact, my curiosity might have even been sated.
So I go to find quiet, peace, beauty, and inspiration.
Pleased to be fearless in all endeavors I hope to scare the shit out of myself repeatedly.
check in for videos, poetry, updates and hopefully not an obituary column.
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