Pan O' Pans

Pan O Pans,

O Man o' purpose n'o' paper and of pen,

Of the swords and inks, and brush,

Let us channel this through Them,

And our Selves,

And back again,

O men, Ah, man,

Women, Woe man, 

Amen, O Pan;

Live in this lust,

And drink it up,

Into your glance,

One vision from this pool,

Fills up your cup,

It will be serendipitous,

That splendid chance,

To dance,

Amongst the Stars,

Hear the bell,

Within the jar,

To take it just that far,

Into another world,

Our such solid seeming walls, 

but staircase halls,

with the turrets of romance.

Prance a cloven,

Behooven limb,

Through the Forest,

All too grim,

Taking a trip to paradise,

Tooting and flute-ing,

All the while,

Until He breaks unto a Grove,

A sacred den,

Nemetonic alcove,

Emerald, immense,

Timber towering,

And of Gnomes,

Holisticity overgrown,

Nature so dense,

It('s) devour(ing)s any (y/our) sense(s)...

Nature so dense it devours any sense,

A Nature so dense it's devouring y/our senses…

Pan,

O Pan!

O men of Pan,

Ooo men, Ahh man,

Woman, Woe men,
Amen, O Pan o' Pan o' Pans…

We are becoming the soil,

We are becoming the tree,

Becoming the sky, the canopy,

Becoming the floaty things,

Becoming the seed,

Becoming an organic sort of peace,

Drunken of this scene,

Man of Earth,

Man O' Green,

Man O' Pan,

Man O' Misery's Mystery,

Man who sails his ship,

Across the blackest seas,

Through BABALON,

Within the womb of NU-IT,

And this is what you mean, 

To me,

Pan O' Pans,
O man, O man,
O men o' Pan,
O Pan o' Pans,
O Pan,
O Pan,
IO PAN!

Amen.

Repeal

My letter of resignation,
To whom it may concern,
I am ready to retire,
It is not about my earnings,
You pay me in kind,
It's just that I… I… I…
Cannot go on,
With this song and dance today,
And I will be sick tomorrow and tomorrow, if I stay,
So, you see,
Not being dead,
Perhaps approaching prematurely,
As par the specifics of our contractual agreement,
I would like the gold watch now,
If you please,
All we really need is our shelter and to eat,
So such a trinket could be a lovely shelved dusty testimony,
To the fall of the material,
And the rising of the Sun,
The tides of the Sea, possessing
Of a redeeming quality, although perhaps perceivably
Ungodly and unholy,
With it's broken,
Still ticking,
Nearly dead,
Little toxic battery…

07/07/2014

Too Truly Beautiful to Remember Your Ugliness

I'll never forget the way you said one time,
That you wished you were the most beautiful woman in the world,
Like the rest of us would exist, paling in comparison to you,
As if we were somehow less than this face of yours was worth, as a collective,
Perhaps your sense of better than has diminished since...
You're so pretty,
And I wish I were so beautiful, I could not remember your ugly,
As your best friend heard the words coming out of you,
She looked at me with embarrassment, for you,
With disgust, and wonder, at how you could be so vain,
Though there are worse things,
The arrogance of kings, and queens,
At least you're not in power,
If you were,
Would you mar the faces of any other she who opposed your beauty?
Who could compete?
Do you have to lessen them somehow in your mind,
To feel as if the pristine face you wore,
Truly shines brighter from behind the eyes...?
Why do we do this?
Why can't we just be equal, without the need to diminish the gorgeousness in others,
To feel better about ourselves,
By the degradation of our sisters and brothers?
You said you would come down from your throne,
Promised you would visit us,
And the lack of trust I have for you speaks volumes of how you,
Have been,
How you have treated me has not been a game of innocent gorgeosity,
Glimmering as you see yourself,
Cat walking,
The most attractive quality I could ever conceive,
Is in the woman who can admit her own deception, of herself,
Of those around her,
Her own lies, and her own wealth of selfishness,
And this being the case, it's no wonder you've ended up with a huge scar,
Marring your own face.

Weeping Shades of Indigo

Here's to the pot calling the kettle black...

The Pot, by Tool


Who are you to wave your finger?
Ya' must have been out your head.
Eye hole deep in muddy waters.
You practically raised the dead.

Rob the grave, to snow the cradle.
Then burn the evidence down.
Soapbox, house of cards, and glass,
So don't go tossin' your stones around.

You must have been high.
You must have been high.
You must have been.

Foot in mouth, and head up asshole.
Whatcha talkin' 'bout?
Difficult to dance 'round this one
'til you pull it out, boy!

You must have been, so high.
You must have been, so high.

Steal, borrow, refer, save your shady inference.
King Guru done hung the juror with the innocent.

Now you're weeping shades of chosen indigo
Got lemon juice up in your...EYE!

When you pissed all over my black kettle
You must have been HIGH, HIGH
You must have been HIGH, HIGH

Who are you to wave your finger?
So full of it.
Eyeballs deep in muddy waters
Fuckin' hypocrite.

Liar, lawyer, mirror, show me.
What's the difference?

Kangaroo done hung the guilty with the innocent.

NOW!!
You'll weep or, change the chosen into gold.
Got lemon juice up in your high eye.
When you pissed all over my black kettle
You musta been!

So who are you to wave your finger?
Who are you to wave your mighty fingers at me?
You must, have been, out your, mind!

Weeping shades of indigo
Trapped without a reason
Weeping shades of indigo

Liar, lawyer,
Mirror for ya,
What's the difference?
Kangaroo be stoned
He's guilty as the government

NOW!!
Will you weep or, change the chosen into gold
Got lemon juice up in your, EYE!!
EYE!!

Now when you pissed all over my black kettle.
You musta been HIGH, HIGH, HIGH, HIGH.
Eyeballs deep in muddy waters
Your're balls deep in muddy waters.
Ganja Police, you must, have been, out your MIND!!!!

[ These are The Pot Lyrics on http://www.lyricsmania.com/ ]

Wikipedia Entry for Tool's "The Pot"  

Inhuman Enid, the Imitating

This is one of my most visited posts. Here's to my stalkers, who cannot understand due to their narcissism that I never waste my time looking into their lives. Hard for you to believe, isn't it?

Introduction...

Opemetry deluges into your brain,
A white-wash second of flooding runs through after it,
Erasing everything,
That could have been important,
Though not so much as a good memory might have been.

T'is memory that serves us,
And memory is a thing we find ourselves in service to.

Damn our memories,
Love our memories,
Even when they torture us with our own hatred,
Even when they sooth us with recollections of comfort,
Or bliss,
We cannot fake being inhuman,
As you are acting inhuman, you know that?
But we forgot to stop pointing fingers,
When our mother's taught that hatred lingers,
Even when we think ourselves most loving.

To Inhuman Enid, the Imitator:

Let me make something clear,
Just so you aren't mistaken,
Dear Enid,
You are a thief of opemetry,
For when paraphrasing, line by line..
You rise, you rise, you rise,  
You rise?
(And admit it, that was not the only time...) 
Something like my own words, in disguise,
Which you began to use so long ago,
Cannot give credit, where it's due,
Having sunk so low,
I can most safely say,
Most of her words were her own,
Blasé rhymes,
But a few were also pilfered,
From someone she knew during that time,
Though she insisted that she rose,
The other merely dirt under her feet,
Having fell,
We can see it in her eyes,
That she is living in a Hell,
Of ego-thrusting,
Gossipers may bring their own demise,
Ingratitude is its own punishment at times,
She was always bent, you see,
On one-upping me,
Though as Enid says,
Imitation is just flattery,
Admit that violet flame was not a vision,
That you first conceived,
Once again, you ripped it off,
But imitation is just flattery;
The truth does not belong to you,
Know it "belongs" to Iris E.,
You cannot own the truth,
It is engrained,
A part of the mosaic,
In the Akashaic,
I sleep tight to comprehend,
My own place between Dark, and Light,
I take my comfort in the absolute,
Your treatment of me is not right. 

Remember,
Don't ever forget,
That I will always be the flaw in this World,
In your head,
Nearly more than war, or hunger, or poverty,
You cannot forgive,
And so, your Heart will not be rid of me,
I am worse to you than real evils,
For you are hypo-critically,
Wilting, and destructive,
In your own insanity,
No matter how you think you will read faces,
Of your friends, and enemies,
Looking for betrayal,
For falsity,
If you must,
The Worth of Ducks,
Denies New Fields,
When they are lacking trust,
I am quite sure,
They are immaculately in love,
But perhaps she's not so positive...
Perhaps she'll push, and shove it away,
With that hateful insincerity.

What I give with my talents,
Is also worth something,
Tell me, what of Balance?
Won't succumb to some disparaging,
To claim know-how to teach forgiveness,
May be a benefit to some,
But she does not know its meaning,
And cannot realize the gleaming,
In the Eyes of Redemption,
When you insist,
On being the only one,
It's plain,
All that you seem to want,
Is others suckling your thumb,
For now, and forever,
You won't be the only one to wear the mantle,
Of the flower given unto me,
You were the other,
Now just pretender,
Never the real thing,
For you are not the first,
And you have been the worst,
So cry your dark blue tears,
Villainess,
It's for the best. 


- Iris E.

Mr. Christos

Mounting my being upon the pen,
Crucifies the small pink index,
That will remain strung up,
An eternal martyr,
For the ink to be virtually spilled,
Out of us,
This act.

Pastel icing hues,
Blueberry blood stream stains,
Initiates of the muffin pan,
Dear Cup,
Cake on your most wholesome sins,
So that they crust atop,
The battering.

A smattering of cookies and crumbiness,
Of sacrifice and numminess,
Sun hardened kneeding,
On our knees,
On our knees.

Silence and the Uber Phucket

The amazing powers of Silence and the Uber Phucket

You must be quick to catch it,
The questions come swiftly,
If you've missed them,
Makes you liable to be slower than paranoia can be to manifest.

The words fly by,
A voice,
In which I found my own sound,
And an image...
What of this?
A solvent solution,
One half blot,
Between,
Folded paper towel,
In two,
It merged into one,
Blooming flower,
Or a great mane,
Of She-Devil hair.

I never, ever mean to frighten them,
But I do, most usually,
And at times, myself as well.
I do not mean to frighten you,
Most of all, my dearest ones,
I do not mean to hide from you,
I do not mean to lie to you,
I did not want to cause harm,
We know naught of the things we do.

We reel,
Snap back,
Look to the left,
The peripheral goes deaf,
To all ears.

So silence,
There will always be,
Though silence seems to,
Never see.

The Relative Eavesdropper

Do not lie to me,
You, who has needed space and time,
Unable to face the paradigm
You must take distance,
For resistance,
Even bailing on your commitments to help,
A woman at the bottom of her rope,
Subtly sending the message,
To the messenger,
That she ought cope with her own problems,
And so I have,
Without the distraction of manipulation,
The mind-fuck of you now dissipation.

You have broken into this account before,
So, why should I hide the very expression,
That you cannot handle,
But think your right to overhear?
You are not to be trusted, dear,
And I made a promise to be the one to expose you,

So here I am again, my friend!
With no reason to be mad,
No reason to be sad,
The dead fruit did not fall,
Too far from the tree.
You, being so very unaware,
So very, very blank in your smile and your stare,
And so unoriginal in the style of your hair,
The art so drab from a heart so bare,
Without the ability to see the eyes,
Staring back at thee,
Past your own pathetic ill-intent,
Bent savagery.

Into The Void

When Mages Meet

Like two stars crashing into each other,
Was that you? That was you,
Living on the same rock, here,
This is the living Mystery, dear,
Synchronicity from sheer Will,
Save trust for the Universe,
I ask,
"How could I pass you again,
In the halls of this mystic knowledeum,
This university of magickal soundscapes,
Where then the stairs rearrange,
And the walls change shape,
And there are dozens upon dozens of mirrors,
Through the corridors,
It shouldn't be surprising to be passing you by,
Constantly on this walk,
The very awareness,
Of true silence,
Leaves us stopping to talk,
Just the stuff,
That this sort of thing is made up of,
Like two stars going nova,
After the collision,
Visual precision,
Made more dense by the mixing,
Of planes and perceptions,
The strangest things are perhaps,
As weird as they may be,
In this prismatic tangible cascade,
Bursting at the seams.

- Iris E.

Into the Void

There was a great Love, unfound but unbound by conventionality, making It perfect in being hidden; A Devotion so Black, the Limitless Light could almost be seen.

There was a Man so Fatherly, the entire Zodiac was born unto Him, and in his Wisdom, he Chose.

There was a Mother, so Womanly, she Understood.

And Their Love grew, and grew, and surmounted Itself, Al-L-Ways, for it was Forgiveness, mercifully unspoiled by disappointment.

On the Horizon of Forever was a great ray, like a spear, tipped with sunshine, wherefrom All sprang; The war machines of the Universe were born; Divided, in pairs. 

My Secret Heart; My Sacred Spouse; Beautiful Unrequited House of Thee; Antithesis to expression which must exist; Imploded. How bright you are in your Dark Light naked, exposed; How rayed is your Inverse Crown?

By the sweet kisses of His lips, could Victory be tasted True, as it has been felt before, but never lasted. A success so great, it manifests in an improbable permanence between the Two.

Quicksilver blur of communication, with no becauses, buts or ifs, as All were at the feet of a great K-Nine, who worshiped only All, and of course, Naught. We communed, and we laughed from the yoke of it, held in sweet embrace by the very limbs of comfort; In the Care of Everything; We were the Rapture and Merriment in and of the World. We were exposed, nude, and chaste, in our vulnerability. The scribes penned our Day, by Night, and our Night, by Day, being too taken, catching the scents, taste, and sounds in the auspice of their Words, and they looked on adoringly.

Here is the room where we entwine in copulation by open window, under the Moon, Eclipsing the Sun, wherein All will be conceived as an Act of Thinking; An Thought of Trusting; A Sacred Trusting; A Wondrous Play-ing; The Human Ingenium A'flame or en Flambée; The Heart of Lust swept up in the Bliss Pain of Passion, and Pleasure; Fucking in Joy, and Sorrow unto Dissolution of Identity, and sheer Timeless Bliss; Integrating completely with the On-Switch of penetrating, O, U. and I.; Under the Great Night of Pan.

We get off the boat, and under the starry sky, on the shore there is drawn a line between us; We walk it like a tightrope; We dance around it in a spiral; We spin, and we fall disintegrating, to reassemble, and to rise again from the sands of Time themselves.

Escape the Fates

There is nothing to say,
Nowhere left to go,
Nothing left to do,
But chase this silence away with a dull knife,
Cutting at my insides,
Endevouring,
Exflaming,
Floating helpless in this Void,
Shameless in this Aloneness,
I resign myself to meaninglessness,
Nothing fulfills,
Nothing overflows this cup,
Not completely,
So, in blood,
I soak this anklet,
Warding off those who would seek to,
Challenge Wrath itself,
And I steel away,
With this dull blade in hand,
Protection,
From the World,
Carried by its map,
Which without,
Would be Mystery entirely,
Some things are still mysterious,
But very, very little,
All sacrilegious,
All lies,
All broken,
Hands tied,
Stimulating bondage,
Found in the sighing,
So naked,
Flailing,
Yelp,
Release,
Sighigh,
Somehow not yet dull enough to cut ties,
Close my eyes,
And be set adrift,
Away from this,
Salvation in kisses and the intimate,
Exposure to humanity,
Vulnerable insanity,
Offers escape from Fates,
Escape from Time,
Here and Now,
Divine.

The Other Truths

Eating men like air,
Surrounded by them,
A forever supply of sustenance,
Of unrequited lust in this,
Acceptance of a love,
That handles Truths well,
But not well enough,
So I might have my space,
From the lies.

O, Truth, how you betray,
The Other Truths,
That become the "Lies",
Opposing you,
O, Truth...