The Arks

Subspace astronauts,
Trapped in their escape pods,
Wading in circular time streams,
Cromlechs on Earth,
Gathering moss,
Monolithic conduits,
To genetic space stations,
Abandoned,
And orbiting Sirius.
Now housed in great mud huts,
Kept safe by Dogon cartographers,
And those immune to imprinting.
Their complex spiral ladders,
Excavated,
Synthesized,
And spliced,
With symbiotic species,
By surgeons of a secret society.

A New World

Modify dominant chromosonal structures of existing life forms, apply our template.
Scan for compatibility.
Sentient material detected.
Make adjustments to base sequencing.
Fuse evolutionary timeline of sentient,
temporal circle required for biological interface
Launch probe with new matrix for first evasive contact.
Lock on to material subset for conversion.
Dock and secure probe.
Penetrate membrane.
Establish homeostatic environment and stimulate colony.
Rewrite.
Replicate new probes.
String colonies together.
Replicate.
Invade host organism.

Gathering Stones for the Lodge

Gathered,
A terminal decade.
Through stones,
And pieces of wood,
Bound by string,
And nail.
Positions plotted,
Against alchemical states,
Establish final placement,
These devices will sanctify walls,
And mark the last stages,
Of a house of holes,
And contain the concluding stations of forty four years,
Of a lodge of devils.

The Children Run and Hide

The Father,
Of white long hair,
And cobwebs,
And broken head,
Like a cracked bowl,
Like a Humpty Dumpty,
He is hollow.
He is mindless.
The Mother,
Of tangled hair,
And twigs,
And thistles,
And thorns,
She who walks mad,
Upside down,
Below worlds,
With teeth and talons bare.
Both powerless,
By frenzy,
And fury-fueled wanderings,
Their blood,
And ties,
The lust,
Of their universe,
Left useless,
And to devour their sons and daughters,
Severing blood and body,
To serve to their wounds and scars,
Until the blood runs no more,
And the bones are bare,
And all that remains,
Is to murder one another.

The First Transyuggothian Radio Station on Earth

Visceral statics burn air,

Radio wave decay,

Transmitting homicide,

And cellular mutation.

Host body modems give call sign,

And sound technician sensitives,

Fill coptic jars with ectoplasmic telegraph-ings,

To be broadcast on all channels,

Outside the Circles of Time.

Sub-harmonic seances,

On Air,

Following a word from our sponsor.

The Column

Scalpel-like caress-ings,
Across vertebrae,
Protruding as landing lights,
Down back,
From nap of neck,
With glowing blue blinking tracer markers,
From fingers,
To toes,
Skin stretched to fit,
Over pulled tight,
To spinal storms of lightning.

The Door to Your House

Your moisture,
In a house at dusk,
An occupant,
Skilled in skin,
Pore and saliva,
Bathe in wet salt,
In a slow house,
Anchored to a boat by the sea,
Your loss of self,
A drenched floor,
A perspiring ceiling,
A reluctant door.

Ritual Without Rite

Ritual without rite,
An empty hole,
Like water covering stone.
Passage without site,
An abandoned desire,
Like blood covering bone.
Power without might,
A broken vow,
Like metal covered by rust.
Vision without sight,
A lost soul,
Like debris covered by dust.
Dreams without night,
A blasted tower,
Like teeth without bite,
A stolen heart,
Like God all alone.
Like your Holy Wars,
Fought without a fight.

Hairy on the Inside

Walker of skin,
You keep your heart separate,
In a cage of iron.
Pealer of shadow,
You walk on the palms of your hands,
With star-shaped stigmata.
Caster of doubt,
You walk through deserted streets,
Of cities of lead and of gold.
You blush with silver,
And bruise.
Conceal so as to reconstitute,
From hunters with foul metal.
You retrace your steps,
And you walk in cycles.

A Destroyer of Worlds

A destroyer of worlds,

Beneath soft sheets of infinite hunger,

Dreaming of carnage,

On a bed at the centre of the world.

Once touched,

A strike in return,

As that of a predator,

To be pounced upon,

And bound by neurotoxin.

Drained to bone,

A husk as trophy.

The Pilgrim

Holy is as,

Motionless,

See through,

As is power raw.

Heat signature remains,

After source has been gone for years.

Captured relics,

Vibrate the air,

Concentrated,

Raptured bodies,

Consecrated reliquaries,

Held tight in hands,

And sewn in pockets.

A pilgrimage begins.

Wind Swept Dry Dirt

Like wind swept dry dirt,
Across unkept cracked concrete roads.
Falling asleep in your throne outside,
To be woken by the falling swords of your army.
Your vocabulary and home tongue,
Absent of capitulation.
Brothers to surrender,
Death of body and will,
And numb to condition.
You remain until the sun shines highest in the sky,
With knife to your throat,
And gun to your head.

When Sky Becomes Earth

Billowing,
Blanketing blackening devours,
Both Sun and Moon,
Pouring and turning morning and midnight inside out,
And upside down.
Making the Sky,
Earth.
Hooking the flesh of the godless ground to the thousand eyelids of every angel.
A horizon implodes in a clap,
Closing every door in the world.

Crystalline Speech Patterns

A splinter,
A fractal,
Forming through atomic mass,
A tinker,
A tocer,
A ticker,
Even thicker,
Terra Firma,
And Time.
The complexity of speech,
Spoken through shattered molecules.
Then frozen,
In fragments,
Within abstractions of meaning,
And as functionless vehicle.
Broken is this tongue,
And then fractured again,
Translated by great machines,
Built without purpose.

Membrane

These borders bound,
A barrier and boundary,
For a millennium.
Armament and wall,
And unyielding patrol.
No being,
Nor thought,
And barricades.
The Outside,
A disease.

Mound God Rite

Obtain hold,

Speak to stone,

And bury hands,

And feet again.

Pockets sewn,

Beneath pelt,

And shut.

Spoken,

Through rock,

And with offerings.

Valley,

And overpass,

Hillside,

And cliff.

Sacrifice word,

And idol.

Uttered,

Deeply in the dirt,

And anchored,

To the ground.

Fold Space

Carefully calibrate,

Star matter,

Solar mass,

Collapse constellation,

And Fold.

Anti-temporal,

Anti-spatial,

Translate,

Non-terrestrial trajectories,

Transmit and receive,

And unfold.

New system,

Classify,

Catalogue.

Locate binary sequences,

And set down.

Your code,

Betrayed,

Containment and the cages of humanness,

A hidden animal let loose.

Your sect,

Scorched and now scattered,

Discipline and communion,

Set fire by malignancy.

A House,

A temple,

Hostage,

And captive.

Hairy hands hold bows high,

Strung,

With the arrows of uncompromising instinct.

The Watcher on the Borderland

See through me,

And see through the world.

Warp what you see,

Like a door.

You shine in the night,

And see in the dark.

Burnt through metal,

Case shard peal, copper and brass,

You melt alloys,

You see underwater,

You see through typhoons.

Devastate me with secrets,

From that which you tirelessly watch.

Complete the holes in me,

By opening wide your eyes,

And showing me how to see.

His House

Hold down prey animal,
And eat alive,
Soft, white kind,
Breed born bound,
And even more soft, pink crevices.
Steal both wounds and words,
Spelling names with sickles and scythes,
Spoken stabbings of syntax,
Shredded and left as carrion,
Gutted on the floors of the house,

Of he who will not leave his own house.