Holy the Fourth Dimension!

We bleed Amethyst! - Mihaela Pirjol

Hello! I’ve been missing for a while because I was busy with summer poetry submissions. Submitting poems to magazines and journals end up being lots of fun.

I came here to share with you two poems from July: the first is fourth dimensional – almost.

I wish I could feel something
The fourth dimension evades me
I have my legs open, I feel it accessing me there
And it goes away, the bodies go away

Everything goes away

The emotion, the thrill, the disgust
The cum, the scum, the sense of self
It all goes away, it leaves me physically tired
There is no real emotion  
And poetry becomes the cry of last night open legs

I lack emotion 
Where is the fourth dimension 
The new ages, the children of the Arcturian revolution 
The comeback of the old gods 
The curses of the goddess of love
The orgies, the dead bodies that won’t matter
The cult to invisibility, the souls that will live forever

Where are my emotions, my words emotional
The tear from laughter, fourth dimension
Activate my merkaba, revolve faster faster 
Take my soul to a family of stars 

Bring the fourth dimension 
In an embrace, in the touch, in an orgasm
A battle of bodies trying to cease duality 
The inner reality from the golden halo of illuminated 
Angels, demons and poets

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Activate your Merkabas! I ended up making a micro chapbook with it, which I entitled, ‘Palm Trees’. Currently submitted.

The next poem was inspired by Mihaela Pirjol’s ‘We Bleed Amethyst’:

Amethyst shattered time-passing space-walking composition
I’m petrified expecting the new quantum idea deliverance 
My veins throb and there’s a panel in front of me
It has the memory of existence

It blocks my view from existence

And Amethyst throb
Convoluting lifetime timelines and eras that didn’t happen
Eras that were just outlines

And Amethyst didn’t start to pulse
The veins didn’t expose their ordeal until they form
A human being through hexagons 
Plato missed that one

The light is not for bare eyes
We’re just crystal involution  

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Both poems review time. Both are holy like Ginsberg. I’ve been reading the Footnote to Howl and the ground has been uttering the scorn of my generation. It’s been fuel to my upcoming projects, which I can’t wait to share with you!

Love

L