,, In all disorder, a secret order. — Carl Jung

Dead Bards ,,

It’s a terrible bless,, //
being so vulnerably packed, crammed impossible tight inside this 4-limbed beast & with skin! caught by the trap of desire. Dionysus applauds. Did I ask for this?

The (mine, I forget to think) skin colors ,,
mark mine in submission.

Earthy brown, / tinges of red.

Blood! the great equalizer splitting us living up into codes & types. // It filters the you’s out from the I’s, enough so that (they) can tell you , your , me. Then, on the flip side

there’re the pairing our
multi-dimensional personalities with that of an ego’s blood/body,, her sacred complex astronomy (anatomy as far as scale goes)
given rise to

the center of it all, & it all
so small; the Self. It’s
a tricky bargain.
Giving: tangible reality.
Taking: it all.  //

(*) …

& “it all” being our
other-worldly dialogue inner-wordly
knowledge like, Grand Design.  –Galaxy swirls & starry arms
facing ever forward, racing //in rogue orbit,, ,
Not even looking where’t were going when –BAM!

(*)/// *)) )     ) Combustion.  ) ) ) – )
Chaos redefined. )) ) ))) ) ) ) ) ))
The collision of stars is more
than just

heat. ////

I’m going to talk about something small. I’ve been thinking, lately.
Small & smaller. That is, my thoughts & their contents, ,,about it for
a while now. & let me assure you: I am not yet, by the least bit, at the smallest of them yet. My thoughts. Maybe just the coldest. Like,


An empty void is
filled with planes. & laid ,,
out structurally to
flair, & then wane


eternal   //
creation’s infinite Rage;
(*)  It makes
marks like crater from the

molecular range. (…range, range…)

Quanta /// phenomena /// ///
( (a shooting star) )) ( (a shooting star…) )) )) )

A terrible bless. (Is this my test?)
A star in quest. (No don’t go yet.)
Before you go, I have one request.

I wish to know: Did I ask for this?



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