frigid waters

if it had, or it hadn’t
if it did, or it didn’t
flat and flattened
a blank slate, from nowhere
the eight riders of Gemini
history is not a stale and dead enterprise
The gifts of wandering stars, and the magi
a soft, half merger for some dye businesses
a circuit, between emanations of light

what’s there and what isn’t
contradictions and doublespeak
living underground, and then finally seeing the sun
the floodgates are open, parting the Red Sea
the last terrible, bitter roots, are finally weeded
ground down and ground out
legends of the giants and djinn
paganism, and the ancient Amber Road
it did and it didn’t

out of basements, and primeval forests
the migration of Eurasians, off of the Steppe
prehistoric fire giants and volcanoes
hidden in the oldest part of Europe
spirits and cities – a world on the moon
thunderous Perun, Iupiter and Indra
there and not there
feel like an out-of-place alien, on earth
leftovers, from the future

Prometheus and the phoenix; light, and fire
the reemergence of real feelings
a great Angel, at the Edge, in the bright light
the secret of Central Asia and the Steppe
an inadequate ideology
warm sea and lush land
when the continents were in unusual places
a tranquil world, shrouded in falling rain
ellipses and uncertainty

put purpose into practice
not a watch, but a Band-Aid
peer over the edge, into a dark grove
it is and it isn’t

Please do not repost without my permission, but you can support my poetry here! Originally written 10/10/20. Copyright, All Rights Reserved. All art, not from the author, belongs to the original artists.

anti-

the gap between stone tools and bronze
to see the future is to live it
a feeling in no known language or faith
can still reach back into the past
music, the language of the “angels”
inherited tonal vocabulary
no religion for what they were feeling
the radiation of the early earth
ancient skyscrapers, in the clouds

people knew they had felt something
music is the universal language
ancient nature beasts
lords of the hurricane
morning light erases the darkness
Monsters of the Heaven World
A M M O G A M E R
puppets in a video game
Galactic Superbeast X

Angel species DNA
The Invading country of “Heaven”
hyperplane tesseracting manifold
Multiple, curled-up dimensions
feeding ancient nature spirits
the sky was orange, at twilight
people knew something had changed
entirely lost lands, and realms of myth
an island that appears, through the mists

The Canon of the New Species
Quantum “Angels” and the Old Faiths
Trying to find a Gateway to “Heaven”
elements at the earth’s core
that mix of rationality and feeling
knowledge of fire and the gods
the dream has turned
nostalgia is losing sentimental memories
the sound of the rain, indoors

the end is not the end
the body is the only time machine
the sky dropped into the ocean
raining at daybreak, under a cobalt sky

Please do not repost without my permission, but you can support my poetry here! Originally written 8/14/20. Copyright, All Rights Reserved