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Thursday, 26 June 2014

mpcAstro

“Dirghatamas”



somesh* rooms                                                   *lord moon
                 “i have drunk of the soma
                                and now half of me am Urth
                                                 the other half [mirth]”
~Dīrghatamaster, “There was in olden days a wise Rishi…”
 
 
toadstool
              bufo ten nine
                      mooscaria countdown
                                         sync into the skin of the gods
~Once i was me; but now i’m you
 
 
well known for     verses in the Rig Veda
added to     since 1st Mandala
//
chief priest of King Bharata
after whom
India was first named
//
birth of Dirghatamas in
the MahaBharata
studied in his mother’s
womb the Vedas
     Semen tuum frusta perdi non potest.
“O father, cease from
thy attempt. There is no room here for two
     Quum auten jam cum illa coiturus
esset,”     but Mamata
possessed the most beautiful pair
of eyes.
//
wombling     enfolded in perpetual darkness
     born blinded by the father’s spit
yet possessed     of the Vedas     yet
famous for his paradox     mantras
enigmas     : “     ,     he who knows
the father     above by what is below
is called the poet
//
called by many names”
//
360 spokes placed in the sky.


---

 
“That Lot’s History Motors, Way Gone”
 
 

On its plains where grew fine plants
Lamentation reeds now grow.
//
Circa 4300 years (“where go?”)
“gone” — Sargon of Akkad     arm wrestled
Sumerian city-states from     Umma, then stormed across her
Fertile Valley Between Two Rivers     controlled
trade from the silver mines of Anatolia/
     to the lapis lazuli mines of Badakhshan
          from the cedar forests of Lebanon
               to the Gulf of Oman
fortresses were built/
     to silo imperial wheat
irrigation canals     extended     bureaucratic reach
fed     palaces and temples     imperial taxes.
//
Then, like a hundred-year old cookie  
the sky crumbled/
     withering storms cut through wheat fields
          coated them in black dust.
For another hun-     dread dry mouthed
sulfurous halitoxic summers/
      southwestern Europe to central Asia
          Iberia to Crete     Egypt’s Old Kingdom     towns of Palestine
               great cities of the Indus
dusted.
//
sudden abandon     collapse remains.
300-year cottonmouth
full of erosion deposits     no trace
urbanality. Only above     3 centuries of strata
later
do ash, trash and
     monumental apparitions
haunt     anew
same o’ same go.
//
2 millennia before Yeshua
people like Abram fled the Assyrian plains
en masse.
//
A thin layer of volcanic ash
sprinkle the last Akkadian mud bricks
under an 8 inch-thick cap of fine sand
testifies to centuries
of global drought   
     Hongshan (“round heaven, square earth”) triangle collapsed
     Emericus? Still out
          remains tight-lipped as a jungle
               pyramid cut off and overrunneth
with old-growth jaguars and Homeland guillotines
     carrying a big “We’re Number One!” shtick
for review. No set up     just     gobble gulp go
//
The 3rd Dynasty of Ur
was last attempt to revive Sumer
     back in the day     before the great famine & drought
like when Tom Jones
     back in the day     came on stage    
every woman in the front row
crossed her legs.
//
now it’s all
FBI warnings     about video piracy
5 years in prison     ¼ million-dollar fines
//
follow the movie     don’t mess with our cut
//
wands whittled from holly wood     wave fluid Druidlike spells
cast mass market     cast mass media     cast of thousands
pulling strings     pulling feathers     American Bald Mockingbird
he he he Fidelity/har har har Vanguard/
          hey twitter tweet State Street
BlackRock da bomb     go long, NSA:     PRISM A-ok     for liftoff
//
making a living     let alone living a making     can no way     , like   
slickass Zombie movies     , prep anyone
for the headshot     it’s in the clause     apparently
cuz all we do is bite
infecting those we bite
devouring what little is left after the hail    I mean     aren’t we just
asking     for     it?
//
only Corporations are
people
//
profits
not prophets
//
mitts off
Big Soma. 


from mpcAstro's newly released (9 June 2014) book of poetry,
Nidus Plexus: a metric montage (Oneiros Books)

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