Xepera, xeper, Xeperu

"I have Come Into Being, and by the Process of my Coming In to Being, the Process of Coming Into Being Is Established."


I cannot really think these thoughts.  Therefore I cannot write them,
but I can write them better than I can think them,
because there is something in my thinking,
or not-thinking, that forms lines in front of my eyes and shatters into letters and seeks out other eyes to invade them.  
Without story or history,
a god in a breaking of intellectual light.
It is always a shock to me just what I write.  
I intended nothing of the sort.  
I wanted to be sober and scholarly,

but as you can see I am neither,

though I have been obedient to the stuff that such sobriety and studious work has tried to interpret, and failed.  

I have been obedient to the alchemical lover that has always been there.   
To love and to all the spiritual sins it brings.  
A god is there with me.  
The lord of this house,
this temple, my body, many chambered mind. 
 The one trying to kill this worldly life of mine and take me there with it.  
I am blinded.  I am shaking.  It is a dark night.   
The shock will come again.  
The lines with form again.  The same old lines.  I would never leave it, though common sense says I should.  

Silent Geometry

Good Prose