Saturday, August 27, 2011


You are searching for yourself in the wasteland. In the dusty range among the blood soaked buttes and natives under powdered blankets. You are searching, a searcher, searching for yourself, for the eyes that were shot out while you lay in an unmarked grave, under sand and desert breath, fine and fiery. You look and when you see you shudder. You tear away the miles and the years, distances that can’t be measured and find THE OTHER resting beneath your skull like a stranger in your bed squirming up close to your reposed flesh. You are searching for yourself and here you are, a loathsome abomination that you wish to smite out of existence with a blazing barrel. Memories out of the wide blue vistas and rolling thunder clouds that seldom visit wash down over you, sweep you away in a torrent of rage and self hatred. You found it, you found what you were looking for and now you wish to smash it, destroy what you don’t understand, what you don’t know. What you don’t know. What you don’t wish to know… what you wish to forget so you shoot its eyes out, gouge your own eyes out with speeding fragments of lead so that you can forget… so that you can dream. You dream of a wasteland teeming with life. The quick little hare scampers from her den, the coyote snatches her up and carries her away… and you pursue them. You insist on prodding the wound, opening it wide, making it bleed until you remember that you wished to forget. A long wavy scalp dangling from a pole, it demands an us to exact our revenge on a them. Bodies flowing out of canyons and caverns, rivers and tee pees. Bodies wailing from under the brush. You are searching for yourself in the wasteland. In the dusty range among the blood soaked buttes and natives under powdered blankets. The ones who are of the wasteland, the very fabric of your confusion, they flicker like fire light, one moment familiar, the next moment strange. Strangely familiar forever these OTHERs. You remember the snow, cold and wet, hiding their tracks so that you could not find them, could not find the one that you seek. You are a searcher seeking after understanding of self. You have journeyed beyond, outside the cozy world of the comfortable and familiar. Dazed, you discover that you can never go back. You have lost your way. You are condemned to being them to yourself forever more. You are searching, a searcher, searching for yourself, for the eyes that were shot out while you lay in an unmarked grave, under sand and a desert breath, fine and fiery. Memories, revenge, a cup of coffee and a rocking chair…so that you can dream, strangely familiar forever.

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Sunday, August 14, 2011

From The World Above

I, Norea, said:
"Sir, am I also from their matter?"
Eleleth leaped gingerly from the cracked marble into the arms of the golden tree. The boughs glimmering, shining from an internal source for there was nothing but blackness above. Though his stature was great, reminding me of mountains, he was strangely light, for the narrow golden limbs supported him easily and he positioned himself within the blackened crack in the tree’s trunk.
"You, together with your offspring, are from the primeval father.”
He gestured upward with his shimmering golden hand.
“From above, out of the imperishable light, their souls are come. Their souls are come from above, out of the imperishable light. It is because of this the authorities cannot approach them, for the spirit of truth is present within them.”
He reached with his hands into the whispering leaves and plucked one of the pendulous crimson fruits and tossed it down to me. I turned it around in my hand, its texture reminding me of the sea.
He continued:
“All who have become acquainted with this way exist deathless in the midst of dying mankind. In the midst of dying mankind exists all those who have become acquainted with this way. Still, that sown element will not become known now. Instead, after three generations it will come to be known, and it has freed them from the bondage of the authorities' error. From the bondage of the authorities error it has freed them."

Then, the fruit oozing in my hand, I, Norea, said:
"Sir, how much longer? How much time has passed?"
Eleleth played gently with the leaves of the tree, touching them as he would a woman’s soft flesh.
He said to me:
"Until the moment when the true man, within a modeled clay form, reveals the existence of the spirit of truth, which the father has sent.”
He motioned for me to draw nearer and I came and pressed my hands against the tree and turned my face up to him.
“When the truth opens like a flower and paints itself over the face and body of man, then he will teach them about everything. It is then that the father will come.”
He reached down and pressed a thumb stained with the blood of the fruit onto my forehead.
“He will anoint them with the unction of life eternal, given to him from the undominated generation. The ones who have not known the authorities. Once anointed, they will be freed of blind thought and they will trample underfoot death, which is of the authorities.”
He kissed the crown of my head and straightened himself, still balanced between the split halves of the tree. “Then they will ascend into the limitless light where this sown element belongs.”
I, Norea, watched as to my astonishment, Eleleth’s golden flesh began slowly to become indistinguishable from that of the tree. He continued to speak to me as though nothing were changing:
“Then the authorities will relinquish their ages, and their angels will weep over their destruction and their demons will lament their death.”
The rend in the tree’s trunk was being filled, healed by the body of Eleleth whose feet and legs had vanished into the body of the tree.
“Then all the children of the light will be truly acquainted with the truth and their root, with the father of the entirety and the holy spirit. They will all say with a single voice, 'The father's truth is just, and the son presides over the entirety.’”
His arms had become like branches raised into the golden foliage, sprouting tender, illuminated leaves. He turned his face and rested a cheek upon one limb.
“And from everyone unto the ages of ages they will say...”
His features were absorbed into the limb and his head became like a knot on the branch and the leaves rustled and whispered as one voice:
"Holy - holy - holy! Amen!”
And Eleleth was returned to the entirety.
This is what I, Norea, learned from Eleleth, sagacity, the great Angel who stands in the presence of the holy spirit. That is why, resplendent with a light that glows from beyond my flesh, I say to the authorities of corruption:
"It is you who are the rulers of the darkness; you are accursed. And you did not know my mother; instead it was your female counterpart that you knew. For I am not your descendant; rather it is from the world above that I have come."

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