Canto I

[1]

Broken was the pattern,

like signals between two

Ages appeared suddenly having

always been linked;

Simple code defining loneliness

among existing things

Clearly fundamental, absolutely the case,

Seemed now artificial; exactly as to

Have been created, which was not

In this context good; for in being true

It rendered goodness false,

Its form its Ideal’s inverse.

 

[2]

One will batter themselves

into psychic pulp

Fragmented virtually around the cage

Projecting an illusory self,

perpetuated

By compulsive objectification,

Hunger for attention, status, power,

Under hierarchical pretense

in order to enslave;

Domesticate the human being

Radicalized to violence

only against itself,

Indivisible from its propagated

divisions; turning

On the contrived schizophrenia

Woven through our brains

like a veil of satin,

Strands delicate with spider’s desire.

 

[3]

Fear soaked threads twitching

from the constant

Pulse of controlling information,

Obfuscating the hope that

We were parasitized to tune out;

The coagulant of mass delusion’s

ventriloquist’s strings

Were suddenly, one day, snipped;

Revealing to our awakened

perceptions—drip

By drip—which, prophesying

the deluge to come

& cleansing our senses

of its corrupting program—

Retuned our ears

to spiritual harmonies

But, new as this was

to the dusty faculties

And, as far from what one

is bred to believe

Could ever be understood,

The truth once glimpsed

Was to be branded but the ill mind’s

fanciful vision—

Such seeming significance

repressed & forgotten,

Forced back into the recesses

of memory like

The impression of a dream

One conflates on waking

with reality.

 

[4]

As such, all remained

fragmented,

Rather than attract together

our core human

Energies repelled themselves

Kept separate, self-involved,

Reinforcing with strong faith

the memes of our prison;

Compartmentalizing the eternal

into well-worn tropes;

Ending all people’s movements

By memorializing them beyond

Recognition, emphasizing

their façade;

Assassinating our leaders with

Statues; capitalizing on their dreams;

Appropriating dissent to fit trends,

Stripping it of its function;

Selling instead the naked image

Rendered just meat on a screen

Campaigning for attention.

 

[5]

Before ours became the era

Of superficial connection,

Before growing jaded from

The excess of information;

Conditioned to dismiss

Alternatives to party lines

And weary of alternatives;

Not because we knew what

was right

But due to our busyness;

overwhelmed

With contradicting messages,

double binds,

As after all, truth is pedantic

Compared to entertaining lies;

A sliver of the unsatisfied flock

Had already turned away

From deceitful shepherding

Thus—self-organizing—

herding themselves

Came to see these fences didn’t

Even exist but in the mind;

So like a shard of sharp critique

Lodged in our collective brain

They tried to jolt us awake:

 

[6]

A message long thought

stomped out,

Ridiculed and assimilated

As a flash of idealism

Sadly extinguished by the

facts of the matter,

The more realistic

Side of the coin—which is

to say—another

Way of stating the will

of the State;

That is, of course, permitted

to hold

Contradictory perspectives

simultaneously

When in service of its

bottom line,

So, even when its wrong

its right;

Controlling what’s possible

for you to believe;

Training its subjects

to self-correct;

Narrow your own

cell walls;

But—nothing set in stone—

Whatever Will tries

to determine

The fate of our world,

being confronted

With eternally recurring

powers of resistance—

Our human creativity & love—

Shall find its desire for

immutable tyranny

Never fully consummated;

everlastingly blocked.

 

[7]

One could not rule the world

By fear alone if fear itself

ceased to exist;

And if—as you already know

The enemy must be

manufactured—

Indeed, is by the very one

who contrives to protect,

Then, fearing nothing that

doesn’t

Exist apart from itself,

you will have

Stumbled upon the unity

of opposites;

You will have bridged that gap

Which, in fact you must have

already—

For we are always all at once

As Herman Melville wrote:

“But…

Loose-Fish and… Fast-Fish,

too.”