Jackson Gabriel

Is divine play of light, dimensions all through nothing, in the ineffable spectrum of colour, hall of wonder mirrored by reality, and imitated again without end, by hanumans children of evermore, a joke told between legs and joined staffs, of the guardians of court decadence, the light comes down through crags and the cracks, the queens aunt drops her pants, and rests a tiara, lifeline thin, curved down on her happy hour glass, while moon sway washes the turrets to the sea, George Carlin learns to summon his crude spirit, and the sole routine, one about what you cannot say on tv about our complicity in a psychic sewage gas leak rainbow dream, containing all the choice elements on the Alphabet soup Omega playtime highchair table, see the cosmos dabbed from chin to mouth, a bib collapsing, and the density of unspeakable truth, lays prayer mats and landing pads, in the rocket tower countdown continuum of human company, that disengages its apparatus of the ages, stirs a skeleton bowl in the substrata, where an angel raises a spoon to his lips, the alchemical golden child, and a kiss the phoenician's took to the catacombs smoke and glass view of future nurseries, the souls estuary in its natural habitation, and named for the young in the constellations, and the double helix submerges as if dried vine leaf, and the secret she's reborn with, if you really want to know whats in it, so allay those chopping board tears...do not await manifold death! a film lot grew dark set on the androgynous stamen of lily, and they knew not what part to play as the spontaneous models of decay crowd the casting call pediatric witch doctors, age not, yet move along, stand not in your own child of childhood's way, coming head first, with a foot behind you! and not a cry is uttered, where none are left to suffer, and hence will no longer wonder, by gracious design, and run on lines, seasons pass through phantom reverb, I am not a musician but a conduit for the relay you heard from satellite transmissions, with a software playback from the Rolling Stones and "we come in peace", knowing nothing of extraterrestrial satisfaction, ecstasis when you didn't expect it, in our reverence, voidness, a moment of silence, voidness, outlets spark from here to high heaven, and the calm of our collective 4 billion watt hallucination becoming real, as I notice a leaf land in my hair blowing the way I came, someone on the path steps forward, and I say outloud, to outlast my last breath "if this is your first kiss in the calm of infinite summers, I think, therefore conception, and none shall judge should you feel contrary, but to be there is the only way, and we could stop awhile its been eternity on my watch all day, the mechanisms gave out, the spring gave its blossom to longevity, and longevity in turn, gave its mystery away, there is only this way with an arrow where, but in every direction, in caricature, in mock psalm, in a 4 o'clock chemical abstraction taken as blood, from a charlatans reverie, and there never was a sickness, nor the illusion thereof, harlots made famous by painting & by trade, and nowhere saints earning again by metempsychosis, a title, an ordained pulpit of space, in this vacuum bag consciousness, where they gave organs and tobacco, collect the boots and wool coats for cadets and surplus sales, decorated on the front as empty hangers blown against the rattling metal fire, and wild flowers shoot up from bone dust, and .45 caliber barrels, in the blender with Ceasers, Yankees, SS, and Czars, ape marauders and the cavalry, skin drums, whistling skulls, marching alternately upright, and on fours, in the annals of barbaric history, but you, who was so gentle! anointed in oils, scents, your jalousie skin breached by sweat, and its youth returning a pealing tropical house, such fertility! colorful birds of sorts covered in fruit and seed from the jungle floor, fly in and out, and portray us unannounced, the brush wipes and spreads its orgiastic fluid in the curve of your face, where you left no mark, and put the h20 in still life, semi permanent, but also more than this, and can you face it? and this is not but a thought by one heartbeat, a pause in a single rush, by the sentinels of the ceaseless, by coffee house lingering crowd, highway partition, or in a park, where we lay like small fires at the fringes of union, elms and spruce lean to change smoke's fizzle enraptured, into something innocent, we could stop and talk, pass each other by, or make Love, nothings changed, below, before these eyes of inner focus, or above..." Unto perfection, realize now, only now, and the ratio's involved with eternal Love manifesting where we are, here, I am, and there is no end, not a fear, we are am, Kun, Blessings- Yours, JG