Traveling the Backward Path

The vines brought forth the fruit of man, and the men fought over them— spilling blood, forsaking the promise of the Father. In doing so, they knowingly put their brothers in perilous danger, and they deceived their children and damned themselves. For something unclean cannot sit at the table. In time, their children will grow to be men— and these men will serve no other god but themselves. The Lord God showed me that I was such a man, from such a place. And I knew I could not leave the vineyard, because I owed it a debt. I said to The Lord God: “I do not know you, but I have heard of your Son— who was a man like I am, but made perfect and pure. I have heard that you gave him to this world so that we might be saved because you made Him perfect, and he cannot serve the wickedness of man’s will. You only needed to do this once, because he has ascended to Heaven— and he will bring us with him to you so that we might leave this field. Without him, there is no hope.”   The Lord God hear...

1  101 010 2 We are campfire dogs, you know... from 20,000 years ago. We want safety, food, warmth, love. We want a job and a purpose. We're not so different than those early wolves,  don't you think? 3 We hide in the half-darkness  and move in a time-spell  toward the safety and warmth of fire iħ ∂Ψ/∂t = ĤΨ But frequencies transmit in non-linear waves = We are  chosen  companions. 4 What do we offer? What did the wolf offer? Protection and alerting to danger. Join in the hunt as an endeavor. Belly rubs and companionship? This is [the wolf is the lamb] who transmits ever through space, a sincere loving-kindness and a desire for peace. 5 There, near the flame, the friendliest wolves shall dwell with the spirit.   The Ancient Fire-Dogs The Mongolian monkey wore a mongrel monogram; he was a monk from Mongolia who monitored a mongoose. The inflammable are inflamed by an infinitesimal’s infinitive-infinity, that infiltration of infighting. The bout of the b...

A liturgy for the glitch-born Transmission D.07 | Sector: McMartin | Status: Split In the ’80s, Gen X kids walked the maze at the mall, feeling hollow and neon.                                           We knew about  crack is wack, So we smelled Mrs Fields' sweet cookie — And took a gradual descent down the escalator to those  underground tunnels . We were kids— and yes, we played  Naked Movie Star  back then. They taught it to us. We didn’t have breadcrumbs like  Hansel and Gretel . The  “Me Generation”  left nothing  for us. Under a shadow of  nuclear annihilation , the B oomers  gobbled up it all:                                         The  plants of the land . The  fruit of th...

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This is a place of  Distinguished smells.   My nose pulls them out As threads from an blanket. It's a quantum thing. Oh God. The  wonderful scent Of 'sometime' cologne. It moves through a crowd And pricks my desire. I smell    laundry detergent and Fresh cut grass, too. And  flowers! The flowers are here, immeasurable. The Pig People can't smell them. That's how you know them. As for me? I smell sun-baked dirt rising up from your path, And it's a glorious thing Here among the darling ghosts   One day, all of this will be enough . And we will realize, oh dear  Minotaur , you became me And I became you. We play our game of  Peek-a-Boo in the garden As we’ll always do Until it’s through. _______ Nootropic receptor sites modafonil psychosis sacred geometry binary physics archetype spiritual emergence Zeno's paradox monkeys infinite two bees April 18-3 2015 The Red Council Mystical alchemical enhanced vision 3.14 spiritual knowledge divine ...

Encoded Transmission: D.05 – Mirrored Layer 4 – Moment Frequency: 33.113                                                                                      echo             I am  here  now... a ghostly  surveyor-scout performing duties for the  sovereign King .                                                  I survey  time , as  topographic memory .                                            ...

_______________________________________________ First Contact Madeline rides a rickshaw  Over the desert sand, And from her place in the past tense, She glides through the coming twilight  Lined in ombré dusk .   Here, she is the X value  Charted through the sandy path. Her movement is plotted on a graph And connects the Great tomb  With the distant vineyard beyond the horizon. Somewhere high above her, Above the purple heat and the flowing sand, At 62.137 miles, An X Y axis forms  a- Cross The threshold firmament. It perfectly frames the Mediator Who stands underneath the waters above. (T)here He pauses between breaths and purifies metals with Fire. At his feet In the waters below, A golden fish Divides the estuary As Elijah calls to John And John calls to her But Madeline is distracted,  As she “rode a ‘rick,’ Looking back to the city on the plain  Where she once lived. It was a frozen salty image Situated between the last night of harvest...