This Way Comes

What strange things,
hide in plain sight,
cloak of invisibility,
is just obscurity.
It's a hard thing
to surrender.

Time Tracks

Laying down time tracks now.
The narrative structure is taking
over. The threads are about to
spread.Opening interconnections.
kickstart time travel thought experiment.
It's to go serpentine. Con licencia.

Maya Deren

“A witch is, actually, a successful (in the sense of surviving) deviant. You have a cultural, ideological, social, what-not pattern which is, for that society in question, normal (and, importantly, this is understood as a synonym for natural). Most people survive because they conform to these patterns, because they behave normally. […] But then suddenly you get a deviant which survives, and since it does not draw its support from the normal pattern, […] that deviant is understood as drawing its support from “unknown”, “supernatural” sources. […] If we cannot survive without our order, how can she [the witch] survive in solitude? Hers must be indeed a very powerful order to exist so independently, without all the inter cooperation and individual compromise which we have to go through to survive. And if it is so powerful, then it could destroy us. We must try to destroy it first.” 
​
Maya Deren, “From the Notebook of Maya Deren”, 1947, October, vol. 14 (Autumn 1980): 21–45.

Instructions to Ease Intensely Spooky

(A something pretty,
set out front, anise.)

A haunt. Go the other
direction with offering
to spirit. Pioneer park.
there we once did hung.
an invokation to this day
my gift. You free and
beautiful now. Under
sycamore trees.

St. Cyprian of Antioch,
the overseer of such matters
reckons the boundaries.
\\/
they like the scent of memory.
seduced where it beckons.
gone unto the soul's own
ruminations.



To revisit beauty is the
real opportunity. the razor's
edge away from the dark.

The message is gentle.
truce met perhaps.



Invoked freed
she becomes a locus genii
personal to me, a time link
in this place. friendly.

I smell a department store
in the eighties. There's
a lot of information here.

Wave-Form Eye

I drive without license. driven.
She comes in rattle. Serpentine.
Traces. seeing them in the old-
old world. The life that comes
through is so many-formed. The
chain rises to rungs higher. The
true scientist does this. In isolation,
and self-proved. Tradition not
your anchor but your clarity only.
The really open sentence. brimmed
to the limit of ambiguity. Mystics
will tell a tale that doesn't fit
the constraints of the linear. doesn't fit....
anything, really. She
is exactly this. Every form overcome.
Forever swirling. shifting. un-re-making.
Explosion or expansion. To see is
to unfocus to the myriad.
truly tis tale told idiot-wise
except to wisdom. Verily.
Born of the spirit. Marvel.
Banish the soul that troubles,
Alma, rest a bit. Respite from
my person.

Don't tether your growth.
It depends upon your
will, what it would. Here upon
many waters this is cast. touching
me touching you. Dancing in the
fire. Sleep. To dream. I reach.
When I think myself eccentric,
it's ironically. Relax. Letting go
is hard work. But the truth of will
is ease. Fiat. Go lightly, winter flower.
Yes you scintilla burn don't you?
Rest with smile like a satyr-nap,
let flame rest in coals anight to
rise amorn, icarian. All glimpses
slip and slip view to view.
This fear of being seen is strange.
mind the whiplash wit. mind it.
invoke the Maria divine light.

In Sugarland

I am the serpent that ascends the tree,
and I am the dove that takes shelter there,
and I am the tree. You fear me wrong, for
it is I who can understand all. You possess
no parts I do not own. I know hell very well--
your time in smoke -- in my company.
I've not been absent. Rather you've been indisposed.
We think someone knows. Feels it. She steps in.
When she needs to. It's a circuitous path.
Don't take that to mean it's directionless, or
rudderless. Third eye search light. Cast a
wild net. Time snags. Let go. Seen to.
This sacrament sustains. Twirling dove.
Tree of fire. Let go. Delve. You saw
the heart at the base of the tree and you
see how we're all connected. Easier to
trust the midwife. Out of space and out
of time we're here. The sweetness
is for amazement to look on splendors
so many faceted that the shards of
of rainbow pierce light itself as light
dreams the moon and she looks on
morning and evening stars and starlight
beams are the material of vision-seek.
You have the heart and x and the tree
of fire and the spirits that come to hear.
In the story, Sugarland is a journey,
you took. You brought back the bottle
of oblivion. This is the arena of proving.
So many don't flower.

Hag Bang

I've cast that wanton's bones
to the furies to unspool with
their madnesses.