Geometric Allegory

Life was mass-produced;  Vengeance damned by technological progress.  We ushered it in.  The patented shadows  Waited for the Big Bang's retrograde  When all the world's matter  Melted into a single, copyrighted pin-point.  Then, and only then,  Did the clock disconnect .  The son of a gun is the son of The One.  They calculated every moment  And gathered every page  Ever written,  Now scanned  And kept  In an archive  Of information.  When the future archeologists pull you from the grave  You'll be like some mummy in a museum  Taken from his tomb  And put on display.  You will be studied.  You will be analyzed.  The infinite monkeys  Will find a way  To rob your grave  And explore your non-linear waves.  You smell like profit, OK?  Generational slaver¥  Extended beyond the grave.  Here's the thing.  There's a reason you've reached ...

A quantum search is entirely different  In that a list of possible outcomes is generated  Based on what actually exists  and  what doesn't exist;  That is, any outcome is presented as equally possible.  Now enter into this selection of possibilities  Statistics and probability--  "What is the likelihood of the search and all of the quantum possibilities"--  Then answer, "It is most likely correct..."  "Statistically we can figure this out."  And let us not forget the role of chaos!  Amid all of the randomness,  We can actually find two points to establish a pattern.  Perhaps not the right pattern,  But a pattern nonetheless.  To what extent might human beings be  Part of God's search engine?  Perhaps we spend our lives finding answers  To posed questions. We exist at birth and from there  Retain some semblance of consciousness  As we collect memories and experiences in this place. An...

Back then,  Deeper-space pulled itself  Into a tight circular ball,  And the collective dust of "ever was"  Fit neatly onto the head of a very heavy pin .  The weight gathered,  And with momentum, It dropped d own like a fruit-stone  Into a funnel-shaped well.  Sound reflected And mirrored back into  Something thick and labored.  As an open throat,  The well consumed everything It swallowed; But the fruit-stone,      that eternal vowel,  Split its yawn wide open.  Then it gargled up  The sound of a  Multidimensional static.  In that space,  We ceased spinning  Downward,  And the now-broken wheel  Compelled all the bits of dust  To shake loose:   The well emptied,  And like the graceful gesture  Of a tipping hat  In a spiral nose-dive, It filled the moment.  When the sounds dried up,  The well disappeared and  Revealed a newly formed l...

In the Hall of Mirrors, A reflection bounces  And stretches out Into an unfolding line to time. Entwined in this is you  my brother-- We are mirrors, Each  Reflecting  To the other. I am here even now In some hospital room where  It stinks of sepsis. The dying-dream is inked.  Brother, I press the rag to your fevered-face And tell you now (as a living memory), "I've done my best to keep the cupboards clean, And I've confessed my wrongdoings So that I might pray with you tonight." I pray, but never alone- You are always with me. Our hands press together like bookends. I bring you tea. Keep the mirror steady And hold it to my nostrils. I will do the same For you. Now remember,  Just as we planned : Reflect! You say, "There is only one G-d..." Alpha Omega Alpha Water Alpha Noun Verb Word Alpha X m(ark)s the spot Woman Man Verb Alpha I say   "That G-d has one son."   You say, "And we killed...