Watery Death, and Resurrection of Sunken Ideologies

Posted by Erik Moshe on Friday, January 18, 2013 Under: Poetry
"watery death, and resurrection, of sunken ideologies"

The day the Lusitania folded into a stygian abyss of
waves by the Old Head of Kinsale, another prominent
ocean liner rose with it’s ancient Kemetic skullcap
above the water; an ark built for spiritual embarking,
the deliberate compartmentalization of common woes in
exchange for an intercoastal sea scroll extraction

The extraction of the mind and it’s empyrean pearl
in the sea; as you see, knowledge, like the brain is a
biodegradable material; if one is to stay afloat in lands of
umpteen religions, his water bag must be full and his
headspace pure, readily sacrificed in the name of
transatlantic rectitude, and all that is holy to the
anthropomorphic modicums held as truthfulness

Take these papal transmissions as messages
of that attainable truth, let open-mindedness grip
like the satin feelers of a strange intellectual being
roaming in the dark blue nebulae, tossing and turn-tabling
in mystic pool of Indian, Judaic, Hindu, Sumerian,
even the Oceanic.

Documents stranded in place with no footholds, and no
oxygen Tutankhamen tank, where it’s difficult to breathe
Great vessels are required to cover great distances, the
wreckage of the Lusitania, like many other naval casualties
stored in the historical archives, left relics to waft out to the
surface; look at that seagull family huddled on that
Mahabharata artifact, or that algae bestowing
symbioticracy upon a suspended wooden crucifix

The coral deposit over here shall be known as Mecca, and
just there a shipyard on the coast of Morroco is
home to the holy grail, while a clownfish and an eel that
sabotaged the habitable part of Eden float in and out of the
hilt of the cup, whimsically, seemingly laughing at the
quality of the human wine.

Why—in this voyeuristic realm, we can begin anew
picking up the pieces; Halflings searching with flashlights
over the Red Sea like bioluminescent fireflies, luciferin as
our aid. A chemical operant leading us to that one stiff
-armed, rift psalm conclusion, steeped in trench dust:
fallen angels hit the ocean waters at high speeds and
become Jesus-walking lizards

In : Poetry 

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