Geometric Allegory

ALLWORKclickANDNOPLAY.. MAKESeach letterJACKADULL BOYgets clicked &ALLWORK.. ANDNOspills on the pagePLAY. MAKESwhich isn't a page at all. but is rather field that gets filled. JACKADULLBOYALLWORK. Somehow in this moment, I'm2B Backward like the shape of aND Diamond half filledNOPLAY.... In a momentMAKESJACKA.... Even DULLBOYALLWORK... NowANDNOPLAYMAKES..... JACKADULLBOYALLWORK. I know that my story will come off sounding crazy to most “normal” people,  But I am ultimately at the point where I really don’t care how I come off.  I can finally say that I’m writing this for nobody except myself  Because if I can manage to put my experiences into words  Then perhaps I will gain some kind of perspective—  And if I can gain some kind of perspective,  Then perhaps I’ll arrange the events  To my liking….  And I can  Arrange the events in a sequential order  And perhaps from this order  Find meaning of some kind  To hel...

He showed you the vineyard And spoke in ancient Hebrew. T ranslated,  He said,  "The vines--ancient and rooted--form a fabric mesh." You stood among the tangled vines,  And He showed you a vision Where modern men toiled in place, And they watered the vines.    Who were these working men?  Were they the ones who toiled and labored  To carry the enormous engraved ceramic jugs?  These jugs were filled with the waters  That sprung from their hearts.   These were the same men who  Poured their poisoned waters  There upon the fields,  And the fields swallowed their hatred and lust  As if it were water. The vineyard is no metaphor.   It is the entire world,  And the men, those alive and those dead, a ttend its needs As they've always done,  Each in his own way. This vineyard is where the wars began  When man fell from God  And traded fertile soil for dust.  Dust to dust Amid the ash The m...

At the Bottom of 13 I live out here in the deep frozen space.    Here, I'm all Alone,  and I live in my rocket ship.  I'd count all the stars and give them each names, But without any windows, there's nothing to count Except what's erased From my memory. To further the metaphor, I'll say this: I am now like the desecrated grave of Shakespeare. With the head removed from the torso, The disturbed dust becomes our shared curse. Before I forget, I'll tell you my whole story before it folds. After the fold, I will flip and forget all of this. The river Lethe is said to erase all Like the Big Bang did so long ago. Everything that had existed fused together In the cosmic crucible And then spat out with a bang Carrying a blue-print of the forever design.            The flip will erase you.  It will erase me, too. So while I still can, I will tell you all: It's no joke when...