Philip Daniel Cook

Pan's Language

Pan of the spear

of fossil bone





a weapon.


Experiment number nothing.

The upside down side of me.

Is that the monster is me 

because of all, the ifs, and the 

god damits I'm only human!


Day shapes this portal tongue,

in serpents that run

on banisters 

of fires and



Skulls and black holes.

The king's crown doesn't fit 

on his son.

The final text reads. Still I'll

leave the same space inferior to complex

called "head".

What is the scope of a head

that can only view distance

and second sight.


What if? The language we use 

is only a escape for the weak and

we can't even speak to one another

and time takes us all in this whirl.

That Pan's language is sought.

Silently his bond he stains the last temple

to the tombs of heroes that deserve to burn.

He crucify his beliefs if only to reach out to the dreams he betrayed.


I'll pale the flags we wave, if it could show the score

between me and the layers of clouds I'll stick out.

If I could explore this world if loneliness is the only 

rebel rebel call? Silence the name.

The words blank in the slate, can only the moon...

taste the river. If only the Sun...could chase the fire.

The language of your river.


I'll set my course with the flying beast called "humanity".

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