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Soul
Return
We
do not die - We only change. All must die before their
rebirth. As fruit must rot to release its seed. Soul transmigration
from divinity to the mutable world of birth and disease.
Old age, and death, the breeze. Created by a souls departure.
Arising from this dead and lifeless shell. We emanate
from the deceased. We do not die only change, only change.
You know we do not die only change. You know we only change.
Death is the dying of the light. Now the imperishable
soul begins its journey to the divine Implicit and vague
become explicit and clear. Infinitely long passage from
another world to our own. The winds of a departing soul,
the time of now is slipping away. We do not die only change,
only change.
© Alchemist
1995 Back
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| Lunation
The silent image of a poetic light. The crescent
moon enhances the blackened night. My eyes are bound
to the beauty that I see. The moon's magnetism - it
beckons me. Pores in my mind rise and fall in lunation.
Lost in a spell Entranced in lunar fixation. Alters
the rhythms and the tides of the oceans. Eclipsing hemispheres
of my emotions. Moon enters in its new phase, governs
both the nights and the days. Bathe in its heavenly
rays. Strange allure the one that I praise.
© Alchemist
1995
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Unfocused
All my thoughts, are unfocused. All my thoughts,
are unfocused. Help me focus the distorted. My conscious
span is spun. All my thoughts unfocused. A collage of
thoughts in my mind. Help me focus the distorted. Conscious
span is spun. Protruding exertion of concentration.
Perception corruption is my frustration. Unbearably
undecided - undefined and uttered.
© Alchemist
1995 Back
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| Luminous
- Instrumental |
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Clot
By my own closed mind. Poisoned images self imagination.
Sense of reckoning halts its gestation. Attitude and feelings
unable to relate. The iron barrier my subconscious creates.
CLOT, CLOT, CLOT. Microelectric memories solitarily confined.
Preventing new additions to the archives of my mind. Confrontation
of my lobes. To bridge the gap where knowledge flows.
Knowing what I thought is hidden from me. Confrontation
of my lobes. To bridge to stream where knowledge flows.
©
Alchemist 1995 Back
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Yoni
Kunda
Observe sacred form with reverence. Thoughts enthroned
with a deep lust for life. Serve her sacred form with
reverence. Thoughts enthroned with a deep lust for life.
The womb that mothers the seed of a serpent energy. Life
springs from vagina. Completely embodied. I genuflect
before its totemic power.
©
Alchemist 1995 Back
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My
Animated Truth
I exit, yet still exist. Intoxicated with the senses
of life. An awareness, an example. In this world, I
am god. Picture. - minds eye To stimulate the nuclei.
I am the god of the inner world. All I see and comprehend
is mine. Visions taken remain sublime. Overcrowded ethics
overwhelm. Welcome to my animated truth. Picture a world
of imagination. Physical world is just interpretation.
Reconstruct myself. Dreamscape. Imagine images of your
imagination.
©
Alchemist 1995
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Garden
of Eroticism
Through the abundant life. Your ability release my infidelity.
Swollen ovaries of temptation. Shall I dare submerge
my self with this obsession? Trapped by lust, nudity
an obscenity. Shading its darkness with light. Fooled
I am drawn toward the gates of jade. Garden gates forever
trap me. Forever to tend her fields. Rewarded with the
fruits of life. Take another bite. Fate seizes me. I
am punished by my loyalty to her desire. Garden of eroticism.
hemaphrodelia. Punished by my loyalty to her Salacrophobia
- Tetostrodelia.
©
Alchemist 1995
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Closed
Chapter
Situated in the present, alive
in the moment of now. Separated from attachment, gone
but not forgotten. What is meant to be inevitably will
be. Destiny a force rather than an outcome of events.
My point of change is on the horizon. What brought it
together now took it away. Chapters open, chapters closed.
Opportunities rise and fall like an ever lasting circle.
My memory still plays the events. Affection is a state
of mind. My mind is altered. Emptiness is eventually
filled. The universe unfolds - things shall be as they
are. Although I often deviate I always return to me.
Many paths are marked for us, we chosen separate journeys.
©
Alchemist 1995 Back
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