The Headless Jester

Autonomous Qabalah

Boisterous Mademoiselle

Amulet Poem

Female stained fingers again

Pain of vanity
Toying with sanity
Disconnected not rejected
Clash of ego baby
Perhaps burst a bubble?
Let it not be mine
Let it be
Drenched in air drenched in wine

I can smell it
My fingers your cat leaves me with this-
Abraxas! Abraxas! (we all fall down)
Abraxas! Abraxas! (we all fall down)

Journal page flicks
Train runs oh it runs
Beneath a morning sun
Thoughts float
Puff of smoke
Life is a day
Up & down
A day
Exactly a life
A day
Morning/Night
Birth/Death
A day

Ahoy Angst!
Ahoy Ego!
Starboard bow! All courage on deck helmsman
Back quiver deception
Blow me Ego!
Blow me Angst!
Blow it hard

Abraxas! Abraxas! (we all fall down)
Abraxas! Abraxas! (we all fall down)
Blow me/Bleed me

No thanks Ego
No thank you Angst
Abraxas thanks
Abraxas please
Abraxas
(we all fall down)

onezerozerotwotwozeroonezero

To be a warrior is not to fight the fellow man, but to engage war upon, & conquer self-pity, vanquish egotism, and succumb to the realization of equality.
- James Lake

A valley

I find myself fighting back astonishment. Slow and cautious i make my way through a towering auditorium like valley of seated mannequins, all coloured in sun faded pastel greens, reds and blue hues. Soft feminine colours.

I am underground, Some kind of hidden world...

The mannequins sit comfortably high above, some have legs kicked-out resting on the lower row of seats in front, some stand one arm striked pointing down, the others with wrapped up hands cup their mouths, as if moved hysterical laughter would spit out, flow down and fill the valley engulfing me.
Their faces painted with a baleful look, cynical and patronizing, though all crafted so beautifully, delicate like the ancient terra cotta warriors of Emperor Qins tomb.

Why am i here?