baphomatic

I've seen this
three rungs of silence
first nothing incubates indiscriminatly
the all from without which in turn
cradles the light illimitable
and from hence the not that is
is no longer not but singularity is,
that begat all and to which in all
is begotten in abortive clockwork
where we are we are all that we wear
or we're wear we were
the only thing that isn't all of this
is a lightening line that takes all back
the nuclear allure an anthropic fragrance
have you heard her thunder-giggle calling
her perfect mind resounds
so the jeweled sky belies the absence
of intention, super-structures exhumed
from the bedrock latent a
chromosomal sonnet
passes itself through the bowels and wormholes
conjugating universes, that as brought forth
from reception, life a pageant of dowry
and either you'll see it bring you
or you have brought yourself thus
and thus buries this
my solitude is expert, unfathomable
its restraint mounts the slumber
and tugs the reigns that wracks
the reluctance into a majesty
that characterizes the canopy
of the apparition that is space-time
and testifies in waking songs
of life's dawn intoxicate
have you seen this?
it demands a fastidiousness of breath
anuloma viloma or an indole breeze
packs the persona into a function
of respiration and negotiates the distance
between figment and foundation
have you seen this?
its magnitude inscrutable
its teats innumerable
an udder unutterable
where suckles the prodigal
in birth, in aberration, in apparentness
and contrary to condition, neglect
and amnesia it is a choice that you make
again and again with each intake
this is a fact
there is also an incumbent fragility
a balance so precarious
that any nano-iota of deviation
from the universal constants
to the most micro-cosmic quantum idiosyncraceis,
would upset the bio-evolutionary narrative
disrupting the precious deluded demi-urgal
playskool manifestation-creation-kit
also, everything else that isn't,
is, it is just " ising " somewhere else,
its isness is determined by the intention
of that which makes it so
heed my words
it is critical to confine oneself to being
to bring to being that which oneself
according to the parameters
of the additive dissolve
between isn't and may-be
I am undaunted in stature by this
and by all, where the hedonistic imperative
breeches the scrimmage of the ascetic
whereby actuality imbues the race
declaring providence over all
that is accessible and manipulable
thereby excess interlopes necessity.
longevity is the only known means
to prolong the romance that is
the exploration of the labryinthian
of the plurality of worlds by the light
that is the cult of consciousness
I've also noticed that Suicide Girls
isn't exactly a cosmological think-tank,
nor should it ever be such
hence I have induced my own self-fulfilling
negation process, confirming the above hypotheses
as sure as the detection of oxygen is indicative of metabolic processes that accompany life
my words assure my own wonderment and well-being.
now I am off to found my own sex and death cult
in death valley, apply within, within thyself, within the remote recesses of the soul that is the tantamount analog of the universe apart from the binary waste that is language to read and weep