plenaria the great grid, where god lends form itself and mind courses soular current free, full of light unknown (to those who know it and known to those who know it not) where all is present prehensible and yours to grow - what is this great growing god in whom being undergoes
anatolia The Almaty atmane The highest and hidden All father Resplendent in Ascendant glory Surfaced to serve As the godhead In his story To save the point where heaven Merged * Where brahman Held the mind Of man - And noah urged His family Herd To hear The cumulous Accumulating And round Every
bolinomia The answer to the p/np question is found in the negation of time, where p = np, simply because in time-free immateriality equivalence is the ground state* This is perhaps unconvincing to materialists**, because it’s clear a structure** exists that supports the apparent distinction. (when an answer is
apellonia Apollodorous the dorean demiurge of lunar expedorous gave life to the larynx at the tomb of little lazorous The Zoroastrian Catastrian whose castration Of Christ brought a brisk Banishment to the badlands Or the highlands Or hinterlands Where highmen bore the burden of right and righteousness was their reverie Reverberating
frigidaire Xoel reminds me of xochitl Or so chill - Yes, the chip - Which reminds me of xul and the tarot set from palermo, before the emanance of Georgie Emerged And Geneve found me fallow In its foothills, Before certainty befell me at the gate of certain uncertainty
mania All men are mad for the circumstance of existence is queer beyond belief; And circumspect of madness, In the circus enslaving thee; the ntherior introspective contrapunting the ill feigned we jabberwocks at the crux of crucifiction, the raving fiend; the bloke babbling brookside fait ecstacy
nth to meet ones end in the nth, the crown and the supplicant, - for the mystery of time, the grand extent - is the recursive consequence fated of mirrors and merriment hushed up in the heads of heretics, hallowed of hubris, deafening.
nəl hypatiating at the altar of the 82nd archon we groaned and gargled the sweetness that hithered the headless henchman handmade and hurtling up, up, up on the back of the beast spewing brine, the one that wrenched our hearts and wrung them into a river of wine, beatless and breathless
hypnagogia Astrolabing at the cosmic lathe We laid our dreams And restless bore The demiurge The eminent God Not quite To quiet Our curiosity In the crepuscular Before unbecoming In the eternal Horizon Of our Imagined dawn
solaria “at the right hand, a single tablet, petrified; beheld as the edict itself - an animus we wholly othered - made manifest, a dimension less: eos obruere” * apocrypha apologia 18:6 O what stripped magic I cannot convey; At the southern cross I have come to pray, And there in the garden
majesteria we exist in a conception of measurable something, believing that if measurement ceases experience goes with it. but what lies beyond time (or the concept of measurable change) is the mystery; the progenitor of (non)being; the transcendental fount ineffable, everywhere and nowhere (in)accessible for (the perception of) material
salvatoria drunk on wittgenstein we caught gods tether wailing in the vestibule that virgin eye glimpsed virgil on the last vista before mind vanquished the eternal void where dante’s felled castrato revivifies the infernal grotto and salvation is transmogrified
