Annihilate This Week

Perhaps a Mile away from the edge of the Abyss when it gets too steep to comfortably scrabble down, you will find an Altar. I have no clue who built it or what traveler caused it to be. It is made from what passes as Granite in this place or something similar. On several occasions i have approached it in order to examine it but there is a thicker strand of time here. Carved upon it in Simuylian are the words ‘Behold the Eye of God’. There are the remains of fire on the polished top. Placing your hands upon it allows you to see the three visions of Summerland. You must be facing away from the Abyss or the Eigengrau will close at the contact of the hands with the stone. The three visions are;

1. The Frosted grass at night, not far from the Inn with books and friends.
2. The Path home with a leather bag and fellow travelers
3. I sit at the edge of the River and weep at it’s beauty

If you are disorientated and close the Eigengrau by standing upon the wrong side then if you have Eris still beside you put your hand upon her throat and one upon your heart. This way the Eigen will rapidly rebuild from the Base Prison Male Monad to the Complex Life Female Monad.

On the Horizon between the blackness of the Heather
the darker skies above streaked with midnight
i laugh as they kick me in the balls again
their anger is sick with passionless embrace
soft squeak of boots on the filthy floor of the cell
they are artless freak fried and denizens of nothing
they fucking permeate the substrate
they try every minute, to see what’s in it
that bit you have left for yourself, that you share
pick like scavengers and thieves, kick like a Donkey
smile like a Priest, you feign sicker minds than yours
i laugh through broken teeth and mask of blood
what loves to give, if you could be arsed you would
you sit and fiddle while home burns, you sit and feel
the pain of bones too sick and tired to heal
what fucking clue you have you peel aside and reveal
a sour eyed cunt with no heart to feel
this presence i have to know i walk alone
to see thee as players on a stage to preen
yet you castigate me with lashes of dire need
the flashing of your teeth in the dark led me to believe
we were safe here but it was not to be
every time we believe them for our own sanity
they plot the ways to grind you up, spit you out
these creatures lesser beasts made by the Nine

Iron Zion

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serious fears that plague you in small hours
the pestilence of your thought as a razor cutting
through the delicate threads we fucking weave and tangle
fuck you and your shit, foul fuckers and shithawks
build and scatter your stinking ashes in the wind
press your sorry faces to the glass and gasp

bend a knee and lift your sorry faces to the spires
here the cold fire burns strongest, here the ghosts
find the sacred paths around it and leer, press in
a gentle touch of rain on these streets begs art
but the spirits are angry and want for tender delights
the figure of these things bleeds into you, travellers
blesses and placates eternal fears
The pleasures of the flesh were never so few
the Iron Zion built especially for you
reach the window if you can enough to see
the blasted Moors of the Eigen, the stunted trees
it wavers and scatters the time brought elastic
fingers can scrape the bars and the window but tonight
they walk, back and forth outside the doors
peer in and smile at us grinning like we forgot
prod the settled soul, ease all pretence
gather senses to plot and seek the end
beggar belief a scot free way to see, to listen
let the Eigen run and play as Spring Lambs
dip your hand within the cool waters of the stream
and feel the sun upon your face for a moment
before the blacker clouds and the night screams begun
to beg and not know why you do, lay your head to cool floors
and wonder what has happened to you, why are you lost
watching the traffic outside the window move back and forth
the eigengrau folds and moves us

Say You Will Always Be My Baby

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if you think about all the things you had
the lesser things that maybe made you feel
the consequences you faced in the end
the endless true feeling dont think feel
all those beautiful things that make us glad
and all those things a fiery heart makes sad
this world shrinks a little doesnt it?
when i hold you close, have you got your medicine?
don’t be too much of a flirt tonight, please
i want you to myself for a change, just say hello
in your eyes i can see the Apple blossom
have you left me behind, have you gone
can i take you home with me? your Red dress
flashes around your legs as you walk away
why is the traffic slowing and the music sad
i wouldn’t want to know
i know i wouldn’t if i wanted
i feel like drowning myself the depth of fears
close my eyes and i see you
pretending to listen pretending nothing at all
the traffic blows your hair, perfect
how could i wish for anything less
than to know she exists to sob and wail
cast fevered brows, raise hands and cry
for what end? for foul beasts and flies
keep your head down sweetheart dont let them in
they suck the life out of you in the end
stay close and keep aware, the night isn’t done
but we dance close and you look me in the eyes
as you bump your body against mine arms high lost
and i raise my eyes to the ultraviolet lights
and if i close them just so
i see the road, and where to go

Cinnamon

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In ages past long years before God
we happened by and saw in the Dawn
there was a Lady in a Glade singing
‘from this moment forward’ she said
‘you have to do what you are told’
it is a play we are in and our morals things
we are in line for a new soul
at bargain prices i might add
but she twirled and sang and our hearts ran out
but for fear we could laugh and sing and dance
but to skip a tune or two
and flick to the back of the book
see how it ends, so we can sit and laugh
you slurp your coffee and i roll a fag
looking at the time fly and not giving a shit
and the bad boys hustle and bustle
outside the window reflected by you
you in it reflected, laughing at something
why do you keep laughing? it makes me laugh too
i dont care, fearful of the sodden rain
that falls outside making the cars speed up
you look at the menu, we cant afford it
you are pretending you are Grand and rich
but you are a Princess to me, you know
but the Carrot cake is five quid a slice
and i said two would be nice
we should have stayed in bed got the papers
read about the celebs and the mother rapers
straight laced i suppose subject to tears and waste
in ourselves we are set to know our pathetic end
joy and treasure i suspect we are young
woman you are too dear and precious to me
in the far past when we loved we followed the ice
through Albion and we stood on Glastonbury Tor
we watched the sky reflected in the Lakes
and for a moment there was no land only sky
and we felt like we were falling and we laughed
above us birds flying North, we followed them
the chocolate is all over your top lip
you leave it there you know i love it
with the last of my money i go to the counter
and buy you a Cinnamon bun

The Ridden Path (Notes on the Eris Ritual)

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This is a working of the Eris Ritual called ‘The Ridden Path’

Some notes on the Eris ritual. I have taken some of the workings out of the post so you don’t try it at Home.

This takes a very strong orgasm to reach. At the Smaller second and lesser known ejaculation the Eigengrau becomes apparent but with no knowledge within. The Orgasm has wiped the interface clean and allowed for a few seconds manipulation of the Eigen. The hard task is to split the Eigengrau into two parts and not allowing the Split to become ‘immersed’ in Idea. This will give fake experience and possible movement of prior Eigengrau entities into the Ritual. A Circle of Salt will not pressure these Entities so use a Sigil to protect the Ritual. Once the Eigen is split then that allows travel into the EigenSpace between the Prison and the Summerland.

From notes; I think the moment a man ejaculates then the Eigengrau is confused for a second or two. This may be that there is some splitting of the life inside us, some transfer of power. Now the Eigengrau must recalibrate for the possible fertilisation of a female egg maybe? I know that this few seconds allows a chance to regard the Eigengrau at least at an early stage of the work. It has no colour that i can describe or words that i can offer up to describe it. It is not overpowering like a matrix of funky fractals. It is at that time nothing at all, and there is no time. At the moment i can roughly calculate that in the time spent regarding the Eigengrau no time passes in this Alternity. Sexual partner reports my eyes roll back into my head and i am gone fore twenty seconds or so.

I suspect

On top of one of the highest hills in this place past the Eigengrau, sits the Black Iron Prison. The Black Iron Prison does not know its own location. It is locked in the Eigengrau and projects into this place but can not sully or pollute it. In the Prison one only sees the Black Moors of that place. From here one sees a blankness of vision atop the hill where eyes are no use. Here is the interface between us and the Eigengrau also called the 6th Order or the 115th Monad.

One cannot leave the Prison but confuse it enough that one may see the interface and know that here both are projections from an original source. Nothing that happens within the Prison is to be trusted. This is the Palace of Lies.

The Mountain rose to seriously dizzy heights, in the scheme of things probably at least as high as Everest but with pure bulk from the surrounding area which had rolling hills as far as i could see. The roots of the Mountain spread out and between two roots there was a Dam for no purpose. Its wall stretched from one side to the other and was featureless apart from the scars of battle upon it from sword and machine. In front of the wall a young Forest, Green and beautiful, lush and fresh which stretched out from the wall into the rolling countryside in front of it. In each tree sat a Golden bird upon a nest and these birds watched the forest below them. Upon the left side of the wall stood a man, and he looked down on the Forest below him. He wore a cloak and held a long Spear with a vicious blade. He never moves but watches under his hood that which happens below.

To the right of the wall a man stood in a White suit with a waistcoat that had Pearl buttons. He wore a chest holster either side of his body and in each was a Browning 9mm pistol, Gold plated and figured with strange designs. He smiled, he always smiled, walked along the wall, and watched constantly the forest below.

On the tops of the roots either side of the wall are six Angels, three on either side. On the right were Abulith, Sond, and Chethel. On the left were Urda, Miclleth and Saida. Their wings were spread to envelope the Heart Sun which rose over the mountain every day and spilled its light into the valleys below.

Behind the Wall a small track led to the top of the Mountain. This is where the Summer man will come to fetch me and help me climb the mountain, that is where i go home. There has been no exploration of the Forest or Hills only the Wall.

At the center of the Wall is a Niche with a small seat and climbing Roses entwined around it. This is the 52nd Monad and is the Place where Eris may be found and questioned. She is not there every time and is the one Deity you cannot hold under a Sigil.

Blue

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A taste that’s all of that love on the tip of the tongue
touch the gentlest finger you never feel
the will to say ‘hush’ don’t worry, to sink and forget
hands that itch to touch and feel
to feel the hands that touch and heal
settle down and let me taste that chemical
that makes me bleed to rise higher and to cast words
and you laugh as i bite your shoulder your lips tremble
it’s never ok it’s always wrong, it’s always not done
i can laugh at night when nobody knows
but know the nights when nobody laughs
strong as i am i am swept up and lost in you
shadows and that cold rain follow me. here always
in the morning i look at my phone and see you
smiling and laughing naked at breakfast you care less
smiles and laughter to break the day apart
The Sword is heavy again i have walked many miles
for you clutch the ancient walls and smile a little unsure
Give me your blessings and cool my heated eyes
your body under mine is a thing borne of Magi mind
forget to fear and sweet love to find
bring on that startled flesh under mine to stress and think
what of it sweetest thing my mind shattered and songs to sing
fear the cold hand of strangers and the leer of uncleaned things
fear nothing, close your eyes and go away
my teeth tease on the back of your neck, my arms have you tight

Love Song For Charlie Manson

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What things do you require?
The Blackness and the funeral choir?
The Rope, the chains for all to see
or a chance to flee and live?
I offer nothing and less of that
with a quirky smile and a Black Top hat
Sense the disorder the cunning phase
to let loose or enter the sickened heart to spill
To seek annihilation at the hands of those who glean
the softer hearts and ragged followers
All at once upon that plain a brighter sense
a delicious thing of the night
to let the darkness in or to glisten and fear
i tip your head back a little
to see the expanse of innocence betrayed
the softer skin to breathe and fade
i lick your throat gently under the strap
a delicate pulse is all to tell
from that tirade into a darker hell
my fingers at your throat but soft and free
for never a man more evil than me
to sense a greater abyss, soft and pure
to suck and lick to evaporate the anger within
rope harsh love and facts betrayed
your heels tap the floor and say again
to see this abyss in the night
i hold your hand tight and offer this pain
ignorance and betrayal the spirit holds
my fingers in you soft will prevail
the Crows outside scream and stagger
an able strap to punish this innocence
To see? Let the body go into Athenum
the high place upon the hill stark white
and let my bonds be loosened and left
the mark of strap and bond unleashed
allow your wings to spread and dry
They shine in the Sun i have given you
this chance to breathe and to fly again
into the Blue away to flee
alas…you will not remember me
I castigate the sins of man
and with the rope and gag in hand
i look behind at the prepared ends of Men
and prepare to bleed and die again
Let loose and fly away from this awful place
an Abyss for me it is for the unwinged
Look to the Sun and go there fast
This kindness i have is not to last
For the bitter shell of life you know
will invigorate the rest and grow
this illusion you must know is false
The Gag will choke as well it might
Fear Black spaces between Stars and good humour
the man in the suit is not trusted
he lusts and figures the Halo of the Sun
cast bones into the dust and prophesy will appear
Test those nails boy, never fear.

Love Song For Thomas Pynchon

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Give God the right to permit Illusion
the illusion of God also has rights
the permit of illusion to God is a right
God has given us the gift of illusion
Illusions of God has permitted us to write but
In the cigarette packet a Radio, it’s very smart
catches the tunes from a Radars fart, and some
but pull up your collar and avoid the freaks
pretend you are David Bowie in Berlin or something
with coloured pins you can connect the lines
make sure the freaks stay in the Blue
In the hole we cry at Artillery fire
in the Pink you shake yourself dry from the rain
and settle down to play with the Index cards
Fold, Spindle and Mutilate
Walk kindly for others septic gasps and think
when will they clear the gutters
when will they disperse the awful stink
Play good with others, dont forget they err
on the side of Infernos, and old men with Chess boards
It isn’t a Liars chair they burn
a Throne perhaps, no heart to yearn
Walls blink in and blink out
Out blink the thinkers and the hand hoverers
the dirty slinks and the Lizard geeks
the fears of night terrors and the fast knife
Only Cold war kids play on frosty nights

Book of Lies

In the Desert he sits and dreams of his abstract mind
In his mind he sits within an abstract desert
He dreams of abstract love in deserted minds while he sits
and watches the drops of blood fall in the sand

The words they offer bind and tie, the greater good the better lie
the words of lies they bind the good for better things
but lies offer senseless words

A play without any people in it. Just things.
You play without things in it.
In it you can play but without people.
The People wont let you play with people.
The People play without themselves.
Things and People don’t play without themselves.

Put your hand in the water and make ripples
that way you confuse the things that rise up
the picture becomes confused and scattered
narrow your eyes at the Sun and fragment the light
the beams make our heads ache
sounds in our ears scream again
the light can be too much at times
in the corner of the ceiling the room unfolds
like an origami trick, a tiny dribble of sick
revealed is the length and the width
Angle the secret magikal number

I am the Liar dont believe a word i say
the words i say are lies to be believed
i believe my words are lies i dont say

Harborne Park

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So, this intoxication works and forges paths
you expect me to sigh, hold your throat and laugh
so i did and you pushed your ass against the wall
your feet crunched on the broken glass. your heels.
grab an idea and throw it out there, see the fucker stick
blessed. shear the night apart, my hand between your legs
in the cracks in the wall Stonewort which glowed
in the harsh light of passing cars driven by cunts
somebody in the darkness unbuttons your shirt
i see the fire places lit and people gathered
a short walk across the silvery grass, beautiful lamps
i am moved, some man bites your breasts and you look at me
i look upon far shores over a gentle deep Blue sea
fear nothing and feel everything lost stateless and sunken
at last free and simple life a treasured kiss on Red lips
they caress you and you open yourself to them
under Black Stars those raged plains of Thalma
libraries of the faith bleed harsh truths to the learned
the scattered brilliance of minds lost in sands
the glittering cast the players lost and broken
the sound of the wind in the south is long and deep
to put you grounded in and lost for want of sleep
his tongue on your nipples is freaking you out
i lean back and figure this eternal and effortless bliss
her mind is hers alone and to see her like this
fucked by strangers, grasped by passionate dark sweat
to watch at a distance to be touched the stronger joy
you slut, you blessed thing, the traces of that silver balm
run down your face and onto your tits, slick
you glow girl, enter the space, fire up the engines
this is where you become yourself, at last?