Monday, December 10, 2012

The Double-glitch

(a poem of random thinking)

“…at: Tartarus Rotunda Club”

(Forward: a sudden change in the rotation of things had appeared, as if a neutron star had slipped, failed, a new chain of people would inhabit the earth, and the Tartarus Rotunda Club was notified of this, that time was short, and the Mantic- ores would have to be released from the vaults of  Hell, it was a deal Lucifer made with the Almighty—thus allowing him 1000-days more on Planet Earth, and the countdown would  soon start—that is, the End of Days, as all knew it to be; it was more than a minor malfunction to be honest, but the Adversary knew he’d have one more chance, in a thousand-years: being released after being bound to meteor stones deep in the crust of the earth, as a result, He’d be able, hopefully able, to fix that mishap…actually, there was a double-glitch—Hell figured Lucifer could tempt Christ and all would be fixed, that was the first glitch, then came the second…and this was on the table at the Tartarus Rotunda Club, Hell would be used to weed out the scornful heap of the un-Godly…! Consequently it was as if they were digging their own graves, yet all the same, it was the last hurrah.)

The Poem:

They looked, like ghosts but they were only heat mirages I knew
       that; I am part of the people of lost histories—now  living in the 1000-year gap— I repeat, they looked like heat mirages, but they were
       caused by the Manticores in those trying last days, I understand that now. Yet I took that macabre journey to step backwards, 
       incognito… to see and hear within a cocoon of privacy the real story, I so could tell it to my kind, my time.

The dragon man held out one great stretched dark hand as if to cover
       my eyes, but I saw it all anyways… although he’s been long bolted to meteor stone, he somehow got into my vision-dream. They all say:
       Satan with his cynical smile started this last war, which sat on some high cyclopean cliff rock, and watched the slaughter below; but what
       everyone doesn’t seem to know, God gave Lucifer an ultimatum, and he took it, and that’s the truth of it all, I call it the Double-glitch,
       although it was more like a judgment; and Satan, who often, more than not, tries to duplicate Christ, gave mankind an ultimatum also, 
       called the Satanic Pledge.

I came in at the all night banquet; I mean my dream-vision, started from
       that point on: the last and final one held at the Tartarus Rotunda Club, on Sheol’s North-end pier, overlooking, The River of Hades, that
       wide gulf between Abraham’s old Paradise and the dry lands of brimstone, know as Hell. At the meeting I saw: Darwin, Beelzebub,
       Asmodeus, Pole Pot, Hitler, Stalin, bin Laden, Saddam, Obama, Hillary, Castro, Madonna, the Henchmen of Hell, Agaliarept, Michael
       Jackson, Mubarak, a few Kennedys, Schwarzenegger the muscle man, Clint Eastwood the actor, Sylvester Stallone actor, Ayatollah Khomeini and Gaddafi
       two man-men of a bygone era, and Putin the Russian, Andy Warhol the homosexual artist, Johnson the Vietnam King Kong, Sun Myung
       Moon who created his own religion, Papa Doc, Baby Doc, Aristotle too, all part of the Haiti’s voodoo: Hitler, Germany’s Emperor, Stalin,
       Russia’s vampire; Rasputin the Devil’s advocate; Robinson Jeffers, also Beckett poets of a lost sort; Hemingway, Faulkner, and F. Scott
       three drunks; and, M.V. Llosa the novelist with the cussing tongue, and Rushdie the 5th, Muhammad’s anti-protégé; C.A. Smith the macabre
       poet, and his sidekick friend, H.P., along with Allen Ginsburg and his pal, William B., both perverted homosexuals: all cold fish, cold as
       can be, comforted heroes of the lost generation (like to like, same to same, all jamming as if refueling, for a new Jihad game, all wanting to eat
       the creatures from earth, planning at the rotunda table, as if it was King Arthur’s: crutched in as if it was their last supper)!  All were at one time, of
       the same madness that sinks into the convulsive obsessed, the deep depressed, the pathological maniac, the egotist; all of a brand of
       atheists, monotheists, henotheists, evolutionists: power hungry people of the world…pointing figures, blaming, all yelping, most
       believing at one time or another in their madding games: fighting over faith, and pulling at the hairs of others to obey—religion being their
        escape, their end and their fate! 

Someone spoke on: —free pre-martial sexual relations, Another spoke
       on the Great—granddaddy philosophies of Durant, one how Darwin made man transfigured into a chimpanzee! “We’ve made science the
       enemy of God?” said Pol Pot, and you could hear echoes from afar from Sagan and Hawkins…“isn’t that enough?”,  “Does the innocent Ox have a voice?” asked a prophet from the Sands, a rhetorical question—
       said Proust, who had just joined the group: “If he does, he doesn’t know what he’s doing!” And they all got a kick out of that, most
       laughed! “We’ve given them Darwin’s Revenge, opium, or its likeness,” said Baby Doc. “Yes,” said bin Laden, hating all  Americans equally, as if it was democracy at its best, like the infuriated Muslim,
       inferring they are the earth’s mutations, Satan’s Revenge on man, to be extinguished, if not by a dozen 911’s, then by Natural Selection by
       vile entertainment, the cinema, even if it involves blowing up heaven. Said Angelina Jolie, simultaneous with George Clooney, “Put screwball actors at the UN, it’s like being your own lawyer and ending up with no defense; they’ll use their persuasion, their influence, to stir
       their emotions every-which-way…! We never knew the facts anyway, and I doubt they will too…”

Must I say more on this Tartarus Rotunda Club meeting, it is all way too
       hideous to contemplate, for a dream-vision, but should I say no more, you would not know, that when the nightmare began, when
       Lucifer ordered Agaliarept, the Henchman, to command the counsel to release the Monitories, 10,000 of them, to roam earth and kill at will all
       those who would not take the Satanic Pledge, in consequence, to meet their fate by these milky-yellow-eyed beasts, with tails that sting,
       that opened up one’s bellies, to feed the vultures of the land, to expose their guts, liken to sliced sea-cucumbers, thus, would they
       room the earth at will, unable to be killed, these double-spine
beasts, killing a billion human beings with their double-rows of teeth,
       filling their lion-like bellies; large as buffalos they were, I’ve seen them one and all, some even had wings that spanned a hundred feet wide, and when in flight blotted out the sun, having some kind of bond like
       connection with Satan, as if navel to navel, hearing his commands; hence, the Henchmen of Hell, Agaliarept, spoke at the counsel, that he
       was to order their released, and so they did. But this meant one thing to the counsel, their days were numbered, and many moaned and

And so they felt a sense of urgency, and death was strong, among the
        earth, every brick in every building reeked with blood, earth was cursed, and the Manticores, they did their jobs well. But let me get back to some preliminary steps…

I saw   a cobra transfixed—on a mongoose! What is this? I ask myself:  
       such stillness… Neither one finding it difficult to kill—I knew this for a fact, what the mongoose knew…I can see his eyes—the eyes of the
       mongoose turns inward; this was a vision within a vision, one that explains I feel: what it was all about, for the mongoose had scared the
       serpent stiff? Like Jesus Christ, to the Devil, I’d guess? Way back when. Henceforward, the mongoose wanting to shape the moment to its will, by a striking and sudden kill—the other knowing if he’d not escape this moment, there’d be no hope for a Godly appeal, reconciliation to heaven—but this really all took place at the beginning.

#3479/3480 a two part poem (12-1-2012 thru 12-4 -2012)