Saturday, August 18, 2012

Ogres... an allegorical tale


                                                               OGRES
                                                        (an allegorical tale)


The earth was becoming flat again..a two dimensional collapse, of shallow fabricated mouldings, shaped into Golden Egg laying Hens,  by giant Ogres.

A 2 dimensional collapse, of shallow fabricated mouldings,  shaped into Golden Egg laying Hens, or Geese, by giant Ogres...

Ogres...  hunting and finding the corruptible nuggets to melt down in furnaces.. like chicken nuggets of attraction,  moulded for childrens addictions...

The long slow incongruous steps of a giant Ogre at the top of his bean stalk.. as always,  the threat of being undermined hanging over him, and being usurped by some young student..

Undermined, he stumbles as the ground shakes.
Overmined, his greed leaves a shell, creaking and cracking..
on the haunted edges of collapse.

But Jack's corruptibility wants to steal the Golden Goose, as he, in turn, becomes the victim of human frailty and weakness. Mum's love saves him..

#money, sex, drugs, alcohol, are slowly inserted into the controlling centres by myopic Ogres often depicted as Cyclops:- Depth of vision missing..

The one eyed Cyclops Ogre, due to his single eye, has no depth of vision, no perspective, the one eyed monster is thus so.

Each slave walks unknowing thru the streets of desire,
haunted by subconscious invisible addictions..

Slowly, the whole Earth flattens.. and waits..
for time has no dominion over the changing waves of  unfoldment.
And love waves of the highest frequency penetrate the strata
nomatter how dense,,

As the Tale is told, the Ogre shall pass

P mcb 21st century writings Aug 2012

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Past Present Future


Past, Present, Future

Bending space with gravitational notes..
Kurt Cobain's Grungey moods melding with upgraded twisted dischords and harmonic 
lights crying into a cup of syrup.

Old new (spapers) smelling wet and dank across walls.. like paper mache drying the past,
to read as guitars explode into goblets of Lead...
Old Sunday Times Magazines portraying some intricate past world.. confused by time 
moving.. faces like lost souls...

Gradually the universe unfolds in micro movements that shall change everything, 
everything, without you lifting a finger, nomatter what you do...

Unedited shapes and words from lips of haze,
and absorption like channelled dreams displayed
on the Nucleus curved surface of Atomic core...
Trembling like a Photon wave,
the fire behind my eyes burns to warm the tears that 
flood my memories,..

Copper with greenish and gold verdigris smells composing the surface of a river bank 
in twilights of old .. a soft tinny surface of delight
.. A light, gentle vibrating current of smooth electricity flows up thru my feet as I 
pad a silent path, barefoot and spent,  on the copper gold riverbank ...

...Enjoying the analogy of copper/gold/bank-river in these times of sinking spirits 
and financial declines, and cold,  I wallow in the throbbing electric...
The shiver of electrons travelling up past my knees and spine bringing unknown 
delights as they please, and pass into my cerebellum and beyond.

I settle into the arched overlay of stone arcing above me.. the bridge of antiquity 
moulding air shapes in May that cloud up my ear channels

..No one knows what lies ahead.. no one.. not one knows what lies there.. in the 
beyond.. no priest nor godlike spiritual leader..

no one.. not one knows what lies there.. in the beyond.. no priest nor godlike 
spiritual leader.

The keystone holds the answer to the archway.

Pmcb 21st Century Writings 18 June 2012

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Cogs


Cogs




The Magnetic underlay which formed the basis to all of humanities drives
crackled, and sparked like the electrified ceiling of some fairground ride.

The alignment was approaching
as Jove met Venus once more!
and the Father and Son stood perpendicular,
motionless, for the darting of a lizard tongue!
forming deep tense energies around the spheres
as they tumbled, in the darkness of space.

The Ambient radiation washed over
the backcloth of time, hanging amidst the
cranking essence of clockwork female Sirens...
who sang to the open ears of voyagers,
unwaxed as the chasms of hollow Asteroids,
Weaving impossible patterns
which create the silent music to the uninitiated...

Those unveiled may however, harmonize with the dew.

Peter McB  sometime in this 21st Century




Plutonian dreams


Plutonium Dreams


As the Sun sinks into the pale landscape
and the death star approaches it's point,
the Underworld of Pommegranites,. mouth agape,..
invites me...  attracts me ...
forehead to annoint.
with the ashes of life...  --

Burnt memories of days where Sanscrit and stone waves
paved the garden with Sun rays.

That year...
Sue and Frances boxed well at Kelvingrove park
midst the haze of that summer so sure..
.. in the palace of glass!  where the Tropics are marked
by the Cocoa plants hidden allure.

Tiny forests of mushrooms attracting my eyes
'neath the beautiful moist undergrowth.
George Bernard Shaw would allow me this moment,
so wise...
I surrender myself to them both.






Peter McB  sometime in this here 21st century



The Long Farewell


The Long Farewell


The Angel flew afar, yet near..
did the distance matter?

Winter fell that year with added sorrow..
The hibernation was long, as the cycle of emotions
became lost in a whirlpool of draining love ... lost.

I saw her moving above the clouds as I
lay down among the tethered trees of iron,... wondering.

I had rarely known the sky to be so full of mystery,
the pink clouds of warm mist brought soft shadows
to the harsh landscape, where pools of desire had formed amongst the rocks.
... the violent foam of Moon tide surfing, white as unprismed light!
unyielding the ecstacy of hidden colour within..
blinding ... diamond hard as the apples of the Moon.

The visor I gazed through, like cinematic screen scape,
distanced me from the balls of energy only just
beginning to emit their vibrant life force.

I am the envelope within the box,
message enclosed....
watching the world through the slot...
focus thus enhanced.
Penetrating the ether which enmeshes the afternoon of the soul.

The Angel flew afar, yet near..
did the distance matter?


Peter McB 21st century writings June 3.  2003

Saturday, April 28, 2012

The Physics of desire - Part 1

The Physics of Desire part 1


Floods of cablecars tumbling down
,.. Remote access to hidden towns.
Under the fields where the barley grows,
the crucibles of red iron flow
Archaic medicines offer their name,
to rectify imbalance causing your pain.
Shire horse plodding leaving the groove, ..
trampling crisp snowflake beneath the hoof...
Sitting beneath that well known tree
I merge with the air that no one can see

Clasping like hands my eyes catch the bees
that I snatch from memory with casual ease,
Monitoring events on invisible screens
no control to pause, rewind,.. it seems.
In a channel of atoms dragged tide like along,
I sense where the hope lies, within this song.

Peter McB 21st century writings June 2006

The Physics of Desire part II


... The flower was small and strong,
with petals lapping over the central bee trap
of perfumed seeds -
Stamen twins ejecting their ionic vapour jets in waves
of trance inducing vibrations: Like the rippling waves
of a pebble in a Lily pond....

The flower head tossed in it's dance,
neither flower nor Bee was victim of the other.
The honey pollen opera moved to the ultimate unity
of the Great Mother.. yet...
no one really stopped to ponder the hidden players outside
of the sacred visual circle,  where the rippling of waves
meet, and collapse.

I knew one day I would enter the atomic core of the flower,
I would realise the quantum connection of particles as they stretched
across the vastness of space and time.
Measurable only by the motions of planets and moons in some obscure way.



The flower moves before me..
The flower beckons...
Uncertainty is unavoidable,...
that is all I know

Peter McB 21st Century Writings  Aug 15 2006



Of Time and Tide

Of Tide and Time


... That day.. like all others..
... was different .. I began........

Here I am by the sea,
no one else here only me,
this is how it ought to be,
just me, the sky and the deep blue sea....

Wait a moment!   whats this I see!
a message carved into a tree!
drifiting ashore from some far land,
I'll try to reach it with my hand....

Water up, to my knees, I haul the log ashore with ease,
the words are clear,  I slowly read,
....'This tree you see was once a seed'.....

I turn my gaze towards the waters,
Mermaids smile like Neptune's Daughters,
their gravity pulls strong and grows,
the Tide of Nature ebbs and flows.

And so my story nears the end,
just one small thing to do thats..
'Send'..
.....it..
...to....
*you* ....

Peter McB  sometime this 21st Century

Mystery of the Human condition


Mystery of The Human condition...  by Peter Mcbrearty on Monday, August 3, 2009 at 10:43pm


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A condition of total confusion and chaos exists..
The realms of sanity are strewn gently across the open range,
where peacocks roam and wander to expose their patent strangeness.
Amidst the glory of timelessness I gaze in awe struck wonder at the movement
of clock hands hewn from crystallized salt.

A one sandled warrior approaches at the gates of dawn,
mirror in hand, gaunt and frozen, ..
the dust is scattered upward by his stumbling feet ......

... A female form of darkness passes in the night's backdrop of dark linen.
Glasses to her head, her eyes flash in sombre wonder.
Her confusion matches the blueprint, the pink horse on her shirt rears up,..
The co-ordinates are set and the symmetry seems to allude to genetic and
star-grammed jigsaw alignment.
In wonder, we wait to see the outcome, which may be beyond our knowledge and control...

... The static charge emits it's lonely sparks as we move back and forth within reactive gravitational distances,
stumbling against ludicrous objects which protrude from invisible sources...

I have fraternized with Angels and Demons alike,
 so oft perhaps that I no longer
know the Earthly manner of conduction.

Standing, back to the clouds, I count the Stars.....

P McBrearty 21st century writings Aug 2009




Astronymphs


Astronymphs                           by Peter Mcbrearty on Tuesday, April 26, 2011 at 8:16am 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

         ♀
 
Although unpolished her stone still shines,
she is untarnished,
and sends out waves of inspiration
as she orbits like a Comet around my Solar Plexus,
her hair blowing back from the cosmic breeze within me,
melting the ice of catatonic friction imposed on us all....
Yet, I understand.



The Spectrum, from black to white
has innumerable shades between..
and some of us may understand, and view,..
but not one of us shall view all.

The rain shall wash away the tears
in sympathy with the dark clouds
which mirror their origins.

All of nature holds the secrets and answers
to our desires and sufferings.
Look within the structures and mechanisms
of all life, as well as cosmic formation.

the long dead tree,
the ash of burnt paper,
the coral of sea life,
the seed and stamen,
the sea shells on a lonely beach,
the cellular structure of the plant,
and perhaps especially,
the occult worlds of microscopic cities..
and down, down,
ad infinitum..


P McB Feb 2005  21st century writings










Cyberspace


#Cyberspace - *not one thing in cyberspace



  • #Cyberspace -    *not one thing in cyberspace


#Cyberspace -   a dark mass of spasmodic sparks from firing neurons
     existing in the space between atomic core and shell ...

 -   Lost Emails - Stark, enormous totally flat rectangles
     of glowing 2 dimensional light....

 -  Tiny invisible force tendrils stretch beyond the visible infinity, where
     huge trembling shards from broken connections explode across
     the flat low horizon..    Terrifyingly,  sharp straight unstoppable threads
     of glow-worm silk tighten and stretch outward in every direction.
    Too see them is to touch Heaven.
    The edges of Heaven and Hell
    meet here and merge....

 -  Dressed in chemical armour, eyes aglow, we penetrate the ether hand in hand.
    internal fog mystifying shades of white and grey...
    Sounds and images passing through our bodies like a shuddering blast of
    organiic energy shaking my entire being..

#Cyberspace - before computers
    this place was darkness,
    that deep grumbling
    dark void, like black
    liquid air....

#Cyberspace


P McB 21st century writings -  unfinished May2011








































Skydust


Sky Dust

by Peter Mcbrearty on Saturday, April 16, 2011 at 12:08















Hovering ....
I move gently thru the trees.. birds nests, eggs and sleeping chicks...
..I study the structure, Godlike.
Plumes of heaven splinter from the monolithic plinth
where growing music staves,  on bark, cause
The whole Earth to sing.

    My anti gravity technique working..
.. my eyes catch the blinking of starlight thru the branches,
.. a bat flutters below me..
...an owl looks into my soul..
...all is well..

The glistening silver arc of moonlight so pure,
and the meteorites cascade secretly, ending their billion year journey.
The whispering air around them burns and zipps..
the magnesium glare cutting into the ink of night..

I hover,    I levitate,
I move like sky dust...


Pommegranite McBrearty dms.astrol f.a.p.a.i. 2011 april

Quantum entanglements


Quantum Entanglements


by Peter Mcbrearty on Tuesday, May 17, 2011 at 9:30am









For me, words create images that make me feel good, or bad..
Like memories in a sense, tho often symbolic they stimulate
buried past experiences,..


They help to find lost files of the mind..
in a similar way that dreams catalogue experience
through symbolic cross references.

Music and art works behave in a similar manner.


P. McB 21st century writings - #unfinished May 2011


The Fairies

The Fairies

She appeared in the haze of early afternoon..
like an apparition of angelic presence, in fabrics of darkness centralized by a band of stripes.
... Her teeth glinting...

The straight white columns of twin towers drawing my eyes to the horizon rising high above.
Pillars of soft marble, smooth and glistening beneath the sunset..
perfect symmetry being recognized instantly within the inner realms.
.. Emitting the condition of Almonds,  so sweet to cloud the mind...

Confident of life, unaware of the power, the Flower Show by her side
in parallel lines of entwined danger,. dark eyes slanting,..
Jump! in fright at the sudden touch.

Not sure why they are here, unsure of the future, they scan and test the boundaries,
Alien Visitors to me.. close encounters of the 4th kind..
transportation to the unknown.. the Heavens await...

Today,
it starts again.. their ship lands quietly and suddenly.
The Sirens sweetly singing voices like Tractor Beams.
The Alien language is easier to understand over the times of their visits,
though the Asteroids are as dangerous as ever
with the ability to destroy my ship.

I have never been able to fill my ears with the wax
which will blank out their Almond voices, and so, like Ulysses
I struggle,  alone,.. bound to the Mast...

So....
Here I am, beneath the mysterious beauty of this overhanging strangeness,
the Mushroom which shelters me.
The Fairies dance with me now, so beautiful to watch.
No one may ever release them from their scented undergrowth
and let them fly to the Buttercups overflowing with rainwater..
rainwater so pure, recycled through atmospheres for Millennia ...

The process,
the mountain stream,
the clouds,
Flowing through rockface minerals..
matching Atomic structures Universal throughout life,
the liquid glass of medicinal Love..
flowering in Atoms of Light.

I have entered their domain,
I am uncontaminated, they allow me in therefore.
To remain uncontaminated is difficult, but possible...
I know that soon, they too shall inherit the restricting compression of the outer world,
their Armour so heavy it dulls the wings ...

... Nothing so sad, than to see the Fairy that no longer can fly .....


P McB 21st century writings  #true stroies