We howl Enochian Keys
with voices like cold wind ripping
through winter trees.  You fail

to grasp
it is the year of Hexagram 23
and of the Tower, card 16.

The first born sons fall one by one.

You don’t know
what you want
or need: the myriad voices
Babble On.  Babble On.  Babble On
saying everything, communicating
nothing but random
choices, SO. . .

we Immanetize the sub-atomic
calm before personal Eschaton, build
a brighter, louder astral
bomb: a song in the key of Kali
sung for a congregation
seven billion strong.

It is barely dawn but
our greatest lights have begun to ascend
the Aethyrs while you’ve
overslept.  A fresh horror
has been readied
and set to go off and there
is no snooze to numb your alarm.

The macrocosm resonates
and radiates into each sphere,
their towers of delusion crumble


And someone somewhere whispers

“Jesus Wept.”

–Radiant Spleen 2016 (PJ Church)



About radiantspleen

The dark side of enlightenment, the light side of endarkenment.
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