Tonight (In a Guillotine)

After a millennia of contemplation

In casements and streams of molten steel and copper

I returned to that eternal integration

To devour the mind’s performance of self-slaughter;

A sacrilege to the art of genuflection,

Ordaining knees rotten as they fall to suffer!

It’s the extra groove, the sharp filaments of wood,

Rising from the scalp’s Montant of divine action,

The epitome in freedom of the white bud!

Those with heads of space between motion

Present in their twitching bodies slobbered in blood

Deceit of intellect apparent through notion.

For the silliness of the crowd’s aggression

And their characterised rehearsal of anguish

Is sewn to a silhouette by anticipation

Reinforced through the embodiment of a dish

Not yet heavy with a head or a lesson

Of cosmic sense which of formations seeks to banish.

Intellect is expression unmanifested

Into form - the form which it beholds

And contemplates, eternity manifested,

Within the shroud, shape, shadow, blade which folds

Into a guild of mirrors - the end is tested

By forces which apprehended all living moulds.

Hands bound by the rope and grip grown through childhood faith,

A spiked stellar collar of dreams and guided breaths

Tightened around the branch which holds the fruit of wraith

Known only by the soul which swims it’s endless depths;

Life is this constant game requiring inter-faith,

The courage of believing yourself in all deaths!

My hour eclipses into the convex of space,

Hands tug at the loose flesh living to be wasted

And I resurrect into the all brightened pace

As once known you walk only within the tasted

Victory of the eternal crowd’s bitter race,

The Sound of a Laughter of a Joke long lasted.