Symbolic
Account
(part
1)
Mise
en abyme
Post
mortem in ownership
The
ship is jointly ours
Like
the magic that fuels
its
processes
the
systemic dynamo
the
dreams to animate
this
Co-opted
at existence
Primordial
territories
marked
on the body
of
the world
with
age-old urine
physical
messages
in
the sand and ants
some
wavering scents
in
on-going wind-shift
of
air belonging
to
nowhere
and
every place
equally
its
place
Chase
this to metabiosis, to make it real
let
it be proven by the ways of the world
formula
and function –
the
current's artistry
and
that it is indeed folly
what
sad nuggets out of this palimpsest I have seen carved
with
incisive and extracting power-tools
and
play their tricks on me no more
I
says in the abyss
and
ocean
all
fear and love
all
that may wither and die
like
my heart with the world
That
mirrors its solipsism on you
as
you were it and it were you too and true
you
being all but none
and
this map boils down
to
its finality,
factual
letters on the page
that
keep such pace in my ecstasy
and
bone-hammer noise of my ears
Oh
Lord,
H.C.
Anna's wind
and
'til or more thelomere
in
our eternal blood
that
changes from light
to
matter – this pace
rhythm
stroke of events
in
myriads and myriads
multiplied
with all numbers
this
blast per minute rate
heartbeat
of phenomena
Thee,
Oh World cannot be governed
by
less then thou art
and
thou art all
and
so very old
your
minds in a hive, aspiring
to
see who is they
and
not to see us
even
on the opposite end of their parallel
but
the will to decide
against
them might still
be
what unites us
into
this subject
not
matrimony to a persona
like
their despicable rant
about
the nation's soul
sincerely
played at all dollhouses,
molestation
and torture
They
armed
the force
to
more suffering
chanting
their excuse
words
by name
and
thus free and clear
of
all meaning
to
them applicable
onset
point of reference
in
beyond, not deep space
just
out of the picture and immaculate
But
we don't allow that
No,
we nail them down
(de
nagler englene til jorden
med
sjel og krop)
to
this physicality
cut
the wings of their fiction
and
see them as inanimate objects
to
get our revenge
against
our enemy
in
function
Precisely
them in flesh and hands
at
toil in unloving
and
careless plunder
FEAR
I
ask your havoc
to
descend on them
and
seal them with
their
exhale poison
and
cancer seeds
that
undermine our shared body
Their
heartless worm in our marrow
compared
to my maggot blood
in
your nose I hope to be
distinguished
as accordingly
and
equally foul
it's
just that my vermin trail spelled
their
name for your ears
ugly
scab society
and
limit you as separate from them
by
implication
to
have a chance in insisting
that
they step down
from
their honor
and
see the same blood
on
their hands
the
blood we chose to spill
our
blood in them
their
blood on my map
as
a symbolic statement
(part
2)
Refusal
manifesting
as
antagonism
in
play
yet
we must evade
that
grim-robe role
their
death hath to
us
assigned
we
be butchers
in
deed
but
not answer to their hog-call:
KILLER!
For
they hath summoned us
in
evil alignment
to
see satan at least
replacing
missed god
point
of reference
un-pinpointable
absolute
they
wish to gain
by
staking me up as enemy
I'll
be it
Albion
the deceitful
take
all the names
and
wage imperial war
in
their Algeria
all
for Fraternité, Egalité et Liberté
And
hand my rebellion
to
them
so
that they can be sanct and just
Robespierre
the cleanly
Wash
hands red and sore
until
you see the same
blood
in
hands
on
hands
pumping
in the veins
of
those primate appendixes
that
in vain toil
to
dam and circumvent
the
rushing currents
that
like tidal floods flow
when
tribes and nations
are
on the boil
shift
and trade places
buy
and sell human meaning
with
monetary blood.
But
what if this joint
– shift
urge –
could
be passed on
for
free?
All
it takes is to give without demanding in return?
And
do let me proclaim
you
are as free of me
as
of all others
we will remain beyond what you are
so that you may remain intact
for what you can take the confinement
Let
the stars scar and sear me
with
their ever unloving light
let
you touch me
with
wordless imageless sex
hands
with no emotion
but
sensory connection
Let
you be inhuman
in
communion
Let
you be free
without
hesitation
and
thenceforth
shall
there be
no
fiction between us.
