Yehedasheth
And his tribe descended from
The steppes, balloons of
Spirit (ruach) did they tow.
They did raise mighty temples
To Adonai, called
Pyramids. They were
Betrayed in Egypt, priestess
Bound and crushed beneath
The pyramid, but
One day they would return in
Fire and fury.
Warning: some of these images really disturb me. No actual violence is depicted, but they’re disturbing symbols. This post is really just a rebus thread representing my train of thought.
I was at my job, and came across the unicursal hexagram on an artwork on one of the walls. I was surprised, as it’s an occult symbol, and my first thought was Lucifer’s Sigil.
Which it resembles, certainly.
Once did a young man
Declare that the tragedy
Of the world was
Wrong, and that he would
Fix it. Did he believe in
Himself? Sometimes. But
Not often. He had
Imbibed and lived a creed in
Which to be crushed by
The machine was a
Victory, representing
The end to the war.
Eventually he
Became a doctor and found
Himself a clockwork.
Would he spend his life
And his substance to turn back
The hands for one more
Moment? He wasn’t
That good, to die in service
Of a lost cause. He
Was selfish enough
To want a purpose for his
Life and work, to write
His name in the stars,
To stop the clock forever.
No martyr would he
Be. He would not burn
On another’s pyre. He
Would steal the sun from
The sky and hide it
In his pocket, to peep at
When he was idle.
I learned how to see
Auras this week. Not read them;
I see clear haloes
Of shimmering flux
Above people’s heads. Today,
We operated
On a very sick
Woman. Her aura clung to
Her, and after she
Had anesthesia,
It rose to fill the ceiling
Of the OR. When
We waited to start
The surgery, I implored
Her silently to
Stay, just a little
Longer, not to leave us here
On earth alone. I
Hope she listened. She
Will awaken soon; my heart
Cannot bear more death.
I can’t understand
What you’re saying. Speak clearly.
You’re mumbling.
Speak up. The words you
Say have consequences. Oh,
Is that what you mean?
Why didn’t you just
Say that? You need to learn to
Be articulate.
If I had realized
What you were saying, it would
Have changed everything.
You can’t help me. No
One can. I am doomed to this
Life, and the shadows
Flickering upon
The wall are the sum total
Of my existence.
Each day I sell a
Pound of my flesh for your meal
It is wearing thin.
I gave you my heart,
You devoured it in front
Of me, raw, pulsing.
I met you halfway,
Delivered my heart, but you
Expected my soul
Herman’s Hermitage 