Walkie-talkie

He was a walking dead
& moaned unevenly about
in a state
of stark oblivion

he did attempt to write
something of the meaningful
on his writing board
but all the more he wrote
it became tormentingly evident
the mental delerium
in wich he thus
encumbered by the
severe law
of undiluted poison & ancient
magical reciept

he was not in this world
nor was he in the next
but somewhere in between
was he
& moving to & fro
though  no one could
ever really
say  or
know

but surely was he no
longer to be considered
to be made of
the living flesh

or so i was told in a handwritten note that i found
in the clutching claw
of my favorite mailpigeon
who`s first name
is Maw


but then & again
i have been told  o` so many things
so many wild & unbelievable
things
that no longer may i put my finger
on reality & say
this is it,
or over there,thats it!

because  reality
turns into something else, the instant i believe i know how,where & what it is made of.

Reality doesn`t like to be fixed into any frame of mind & will most urgently revolt against any such attempt.That is why many an artist loose their mind in favor of the spark of the creative  genius.It is an offering of that most precious  pearl,in return for an artistic configuration of the soul.A symbolic giving away of the everyday personality,in the firm conviction that another personality of more wisdom and perhaps even a touch of arrogance,will take over & move incredible mountains,divine the future & find lost & hidden gold.




to be a friend with reality,is to become reality
with all it emplies & not.

who knows for sure,in what reality that  zombie wanders, drunkenly about in absentmindedness
but he who`s fascination for things occult,hath succumbed to the dark forbidden rites of blasphemies & conjurations of that wich is wholly inappropriate,even to mention, in such *elegant company.

perhaps one of a certain caliber,may forward himself ,into such vistas  of  disturbing taboo & perhaps may he even be rewarded with the knowledge & the conversation of his holy guardian spirit.But then again,& just as swiftly as the sudden outbreak of a storm, may he be pushed,dragged & pulled by every limb,on the first morning of that  most unlawful conjuration.
perhaps lacks the support to balance such construction  of the mind & its tendency to outweigh the universe.
& perhaps there is a place & a time into wich such odd yearnings may silently pass.
perhaps there isn`t.Perhaps we will never know the answer to why perhaps always intrudes upon an otherwise & perhaps even a little snobbish reflection.

There is no sure test
but the testing thereof
& who reckognizes the signature of the wilderness gods
 hers shall  strength &  softness be
& the animals will
do what they do
& the storm
& the trees
they will do it also
& so is it with
all things
together
in a motion
picture
show


& should the one who`s mind is elsewhere
return to haunt for that wich is not for the taking
then be strong & give him not what he craveth
but speak thou, his true name & behold the
shakings & the twistings thereof
observe the adressing  power of
the spirited word
as it takes hold of the corpse
& banishes the
hideous spells
one by one

observe & listen
to the freeing
of that  soul & know
that this was the sole work
of that most inappropriate
of wich i shalt
not mention
now, nor ever

take shelter when it rains
& eat the food that nourisheth the spirit
for the testings have begun
& the voice of the elders
have let us know how to keep
the sacred fire
burning

but who burns
must be fed
with dry wood
& not of itself
does the tree
come to the fire
& not of itself
does the fire
come to the
cold & hungry man

only by fire
may fire spring

& only by air
may the wind
come in