Epigraph
“I announce an end that shall lightly and joyfully meet its translation.”
-Walt Whitman, “So Long!”
Prologue
So here on quiet Friday sits,
a perching revelation,
I fear yon pirate mighty spits,
his cursing consternation.
Introduction
To boundaries and bayonets this night I sing,
To armors o’er that supple mass that lies beneath I sing,
To dreams and fears and courage three, and how they ring together, I sing,
To God and all It stands for, I sing.
I
The How that can be telled, is not the eternal Hell
The Why? that can be whined, is not the eternal Wine
The Game that can be gained is not the eternal Grain
Yet all of these, syntactically, symptomatically, stitch the fabric into blankets;
In through our clothes, for fashions, for warmth, for commerce, for industry, art and history.
The world is a snark (o what a lark!);
Snarkness within snarkness:
The gameway to all understating.
II
“Faith, pray, tell me what it is you fear when the Lord’s heart is so near.”
“I fear absence, abandon. I fear the cold, the dark, hunger, and failure.”
“And why (may I ask?), do you fear such things as these?”
“There is no justice, no order to believe in. This world was made by cannibals through currency and as such, the only Capital is for shielding our selves by way of trophies and costumes.”
“Into this world came we naked, and only in that state are we home. Open yr heart to see my heart, open yr heart to see my head – at least the heart of my head, the source, my God!”
“Whether I see you or you see me or we are all together, or not, is not the point. The point is work, and the point at which work works is when you’ve earned yr place through a resonating resume.”
“When yr heart finally opens, you won’t need a resume, Neo.”
III
Through chastity is purity and focus on divinity for cleanliness is godliness and the Lord was born unto this world by way of a virgin - who like a canvas began empty but soon after *prick* and a drop of blood, a line of blood and now seen the surface be bichromatic, glory be to God, sounding in volumes - but only certain tones, for after all that, what more is needed than what is simply stark, together, chiaroscuro, complementary, godliness, completion – can only be found centered in the self as the poet said you travel the world in search of what you return home in order to find, apart from all distractions, where the inner sound echoes, reverberates the whispers from the autumn leaves and after empty winter melts the buds of knowing begin to bloom – from garden to garden, each upon its own molecular structure wafting singular smells linked to tastes of honeys pollinated by slightly different stamen, with subtlety it strikes the palate, and for God’s sake it can be fun – when felt in conjunction with a soul built to be your soul broke to be your soul’s bait to let your soul Mate...
IV
...to wake to the revelations of death within life within death of revelations after the wake in the mo(u)rning time soon after which comes aging acceptance of how it is or new light to speak the dawning of a day in the tongues of the Age after Wake when we work in love or for love from out of love as we pass Judgment on the lives of the light that illuminates our shadows built of doubts about the steady hand that strokes our backs and feeds us this day our daily bread once able bodied now only stalks of cultivated sugarcane to hack down with machetes in hand or build new structures to the sun who casts heat without bias or interest indifferent to something so important as a heart which pumps blood for to warm frostbitten fingers or for to flow to brain and through heart and to members remembering for to wake into life out of death after death into death...
Conclusion
They might as well try to stop the sun from rising tomorrow.
Just as well.
The sun shines for you, he said to her.
And he was right.
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