Shadows like those within
Forcing us to rely on the light
Radiating from our soul.
For some is a consuming absence
Others blinded by the flash
Left to grope at shifting shadows
Still, those whose pupils may dilate
Become accustomed to the gloom
Greet the inner demons
Personified as monsters
Hairy and scary within us all
To develop an equilibrium
With the less pleasant
Manifestations of ourself
[[Zanzibar – a guido in a trans am]]
The alarm clock screams
Forcing me from slumber
Apprehensively, I answer the call
And you vanish like a shadow
Of wisps of smoke
Your presence is a mirage
Of love’s warm breeze,
Soft embrace
And tender kisses.
Like a wishful illusion
That disapparates at 7 sharp
Replacing your silky sounds
With a shrill cry
The sexy sun shine’s
Luxuriant heat
Turns to a chill, clammy caress
Your body becomes my pillow
And our refreshing kisses
Become a facedown mouthful of sand.
I hate you, 7 am.
[[arcane/dichotomy/plot/SHARED DREAMS|SHARED DREAMS]]
An orgasm of thought
Culmination of being, consciousness
Encircler
Savage sexx rituals
Biblical MADMEN
[[THEMES OF THE ARCANE DIARY]]
A maharaja’s temple in my closet,
A briefcase or a secret gesticulate
An enchanted doorway
To my astral home.
A place on another plane
Of regal proportions
A safe haven for my self
And my acquisitions
For no one knows its whereabouts
Unless I allow
the door to be found.
cat familiar investigates during dream states, a doorway to other planes
[[Arcane/the-inheritance/scenes/Game Testing – Istanbul Damascus – Shootout|Game Testing – Istanbul Damascus – Shootout]]
The Stockholm syndrome love for my grim reaper
A fetish for death
Grotesque
Assuming the cloak of destruction
The end of a beginning
To the beginning of the end
The earthworm
Who transforms death
And cultivates life.
It is not murder –
Simply reincarnation
Acceleration
ONE blessed day
We’ll depart from this sewer.
Life is pain,
Death is hope,
Change.
The mystery
Of a future unknown
Beckons
As the seconds tick by.
I am in no hurry
But if it comes today
I am waiting eagerly
For it can only happen once.
Egyptian Priest in the Pharaoh’s court, under tutelage of High Priest, familiar with the Gnostic teachings, all of the tribal magic of the African continent and the budding Greek philosophy.
Druid Shaman at Stonehenge, Celtic spirituality and magic, King Arthur, earth energies.
Monk (Fr. Or Ben.?), alchemist for Medicis.
Gypsy healer, exorcist for Catholic church.
Recently adopts nomadic spirituality, invents own priesthood.
[[El Dorado]], [[Secrets of Atlantis]], [[Vatican – library and treasury]],
[[destiny of lives intersect and Nick is called on to repay a debt forgotten]], [[Shangri-La]], [[Paris]], [[Prague]], [[Mecca]], [[Babylon-Zion]], [[Library of congress]], [[Alexandria]], [[Scottish Grand Lodge]], [[Dome of the Rock]], [[Louvre]]
Hypnagogic bacteria of light,
Cells as viewed through microscopy
Streaking across the blue sky
My viewfinder of life sees the virtual image
Meant to be displayed
And the sometimes linear
Ascending and descending
Of the numbers
Interpreted by the brain as real
Hop across my vision,
Floating this way and that –
Semi-methodically
A pipe dream
Of the numerical foundation
Of our world
Dream: I am bussing to a buy/sell place trying to sell some stuff like old shoes, and as the girl was tallying up, the number would drop after I got my hopes up for the money I would receive. The usual bus rides to unfamiliar places, then I am part of an investigation on both sides. First, I am a fly on the wall with the hunters, and they are discussing the possibility that the man of the homicidal hobo couple had no idea what was going on but that the woman was the killer, given forensic evidence. I become the man; I am dusting marijuana plants with some powder in a large greenhouse building. This fat, disgusting woman comes in, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her take something sharp, and out of nowhere, she stabs this guy with rage, and I am shocked. I look over at her, and she’s viciously sawing through his throat. I didn’t feel like I was dreaming. I was revolted and awoke with a fright. It was 4 am, even after knowing it was just a dream I was shaken and wasn’t eager to go back to sleep.
[[ALMOST A THIEF]]
SCENES OF H-TOWN: Bum on a street corner, on a median at a busy intersection with a cardboard sign. Some callous ignoramus flicks a five out their window, and the bum jumps into traffic, getting killed for $5. Whether the man was crack-laden or starving for what $5 worth of food could do for his immune system in this cold weather, the newspaper article the perpetrator reads about it the next day in the newspaper doesn’t care, and neither does the unknowing reader. Just one less piece of human litter has fallen through our great society’s many cracks. It was then I decided to leave the city for a while.