feathercraft

At times it seems beyond description

--But I know it isn’t

The dimensional nature of our world

ideas of dimension.

visions of Esper

Esper; just an analogy for something else

Words; just vocalizable representations

fantasies of rendered flesh—

Articulately.

Methodically.

a million little mycelia

Proliferating every facet of heart

And mind

And spirit

My love is the wilderness that never ceases.

the dream-owl dusk

Where clocks wind back

And come apart into their constituents

Gears and springs eroding into dust

Mountains rising and falling like earthen waves

Human forms contort to the ballet of life and death

eternal.

I am the hallucination,

Machine and rock

Crumbling sierras gnashing into the sky

the variegated falcon feathers falling on diamond plate

animals ripping apart other animals

I am the raptor

Electric and decisive

tearing at the psychological constructs

holding our world in chains

frozen in three dimensions

a part of me fantasizes the return

frustrated with this human form

with these bones I am made visceral.

It materializes up out of nothing

A swirling shape of the void

The low-pressure spiral

Pulling everything into it

shocking the æther

connecting the imaginary with reality

the curse is this:

I remember love absently

Retroactively, as if overly familiar

Worn rugged Through time  

From all the beings I have been in the past

And all the beings I am to become

I dream of an æsthetic

Involving my own offspring

I dream of a day where I find peace

I dream of a world like none I have ever known.

And it is the truth:

I am the hallucination 

Of warrior kings—

Homicidal darkweb sophistication

their existence is but a whisper in the coliseum of my great thoughts

Where I am the chaos of empires

the hate of the earth, incarnate

everything I know

has led me to this titular moment.

I had not realized how powerful I had become

Relentless & vicious,  

The liquid distillate of my own beliefs

Unique.

in every sense of the word.

How humbled and overwhelmed I feel in these moments

To stand at the helm

Surrounded by those loyal to my throne

We become the anthem of beautiful rage

A west-coast Californian empire

That makes me nothing less than

Utterly complete

As if: the abstraction

Of a fourth dimension

makes us whole.