Geometric Allegory

The Children of Kenaz  ____________________________________________  The molds of language formed into shapes,  And the geocentric “to be” said “BE”  And it was.  He is the captain  And he has commanded in the land of history  Every era that is associated  With "has been" and "will be."  The Children of Kenaz formed  A branch of Calebites,  And as a clan  They rendered something as if of thought.  The thought writes the world around us,  And these same thoughts people this little world,  But this has not yet been explained.  The message of reason is already formed and born.  The message and object is recorded  For all who would be concerned.  But brace yourself.  Thunder (like a clap of conversation) will burst,  But they have no choice in that.  They are so asleep…  Completely avoid them.  Before, language was impossible,  So they reached out in social movements  And provided the barest outlines,  But they were simply outlines.  He will resume his natural dignity 

>->-->->>--->>->-->-> In 1889, a handsome crowd gathered  On a dusty sidewalk in Italy.  They formed into a tight knot  To watch the great commotion:  The horse-drawn cart came to a sudden halt  Right there on the street.  The horse simply refused to move,  And it did so for no good reason.  A scene unfolded quickly.  The driver, now immobile, shouted, cursed,  And jumped down from his cart and onto the street  Where he bellowed and spat  And kicked at the horse  With Dionysian rage.  When the horse still remained unmoved,  When it stood there, stoically frozen,  The man unclasped his whip,  And he lashed into the horse until strips of pink flesh fell  Exposing the ribs and tendons below.  Perhaps the horse would have died  Were it not for the madman  Who bolted from the crowd and ran to it.  The crowd watched as the  Madman charged into the street  Where he clasped the horse's neck  And howled into the chaos  With no dancing stars.  They say the madma

You see before you a series of words,  Each word being pulled from the fire and  Then hammered like totemism into a new shape:  This was the author’s objective.  cl ngcl cn... (Nobody else has figured it out?) c kxtan dtx. gx. ngcl .gxs, ngcth .xmdl (How many billions of ants?) cn cl ;t vzlck, kx.t d,byx;mk (How many marks tallied the shoreline?)     Formed from letters, the words themselves could unlock the message,  And the goal was to trace the origin of language,  To find what existed in the beginning  Before it was conquered and commanded  And shaped into  immovable type and text. g;l ;tbxt, ,sl, jchvm,k ngcl xvn - /v,lncxt r;md (I saw a movie made by an amatuer) ;tbgx. ng, r;csr;t fvln ngm,. ; z;id;h, xu,m ng, j,ti, (How do you spell amatuer?  Keep them on their towes and mispell it!  You can't cast a mis-spell." ;tk c j,,s scd, c ;r hxcth nx kc,w   In fields they gathered the fragmented scraps of smelted iron  From among the archaeological artifacts in the Ancient Near

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 men in suits  Earned their cash  In dust to dust. Because of them, We learned to swallow di