Jul 13

Zero 8

He was in love with the clarity of her laughter…

What was she laughing about?  The sorrows of the world.

So he sat there, stacking black stones on a bed of white sand, under a Prussian blue sky, wearing a crimson robe, and a cadmium yellow scarf, with a silver dagger in hand reflecting the light of thousand and one avatars.



“Is this what you mean?”

“No, much more than that.  Farewell.”

Jul 13


Did you think it would be easy?
Did you?

Did you think I wouldn’t draw blood?
Did you cringe?

Did you think I would not love you from the depths of my heart?
Did you think I’d leave?

So I draw dagger, gilded in light, and enter the fray
Roaring, forevermore to stay…

Julia on a snowy night started to…
Languid feline dreams perchance to dance the liquid krump,
Nestled where sweet rises from bitter
Bake a cake, make a stake, slay a snake…
Voyeurs masqués voient l’âme enfin

-Iliad Alexander Terra

Jul 13

qYou fur Alex

As I sat with qYou in the garden in Central Park on the 26th of July, we discussed this poem together, a shared intimate mystery that we both had faith in…

“It’s phonetic, the sound of qYou refers to me, to you, your reflection, the other,” she smiled.

I looked at her, a sliver of light was illuminating the edge of her hazel iris, the curls of her hair in an age where every girl straightens her hair was a delicate respite…  But more than anything else, her radiant heart was glowing…  I could feel the warmth.

My Dearest Faust,

It’s March 30th 2007. I’ve been waiting!
The hours turned to days, turned to years,
Centuries have passed,
But today is the day!

Your memory haunts me,
Your eyes penetrate my reflection,
Only you can see me,
Only you!

Once, when I was young,
The days shimmered with translucent hues,
Your smile ruptured my soul, my core,
Tore my world apart and made me whole.

My every sinew yearns to express your intent,
Every gesture signifies your desire!
My thoughts betray my secret,
Every secret is your confidence.

Pearl drops, raindrops, blood of ages,
Moons and suns across dust-swept tundra!
The shifting dunes,
Fall of empires, triumph of love!

Can you see me, only you can.
I am yours, only you can’t.
Shadows have passed across your face
The mirror has lost its luster!

But like I said, the hours turned to days,
Turned to seasons of lives,
Rivers of struggle,
Journeys of ash!

Yet I waited for you
In fancy balls and pretentious halls;
Under bridges, wrapped in dirty blankets,
Watching the train pass, packed with dead meat.

I watched you enter the telephone booth,
Make the call,
Speak to him and
Die. I watched you die.

A thousand times
Battle-struck, I watched you die;
And your little triumphs?
Trite and banal little triumphs?

Glorious triumphs, when you
Reached deep,
Broke the seal that fated your prison,
Your lips touched mine!

But like I said, I missed you.
I’m missing you, every beat of my heart,
Every breath beckons you!
Can’t you see me?

I’m here, not far…
Before you, only eight steps away.
Can you touch me? caress me?
I can!

I can hear your fears,
Deep wretched agony of your loss.
No longer a child, no longer owner of your dreams,
Daisies and blue popsicles and cobwebs!

Parchment and graphite,
Grace of light, delight of shadow,
Hunger for my warmth… What brings you
To ponder these lines?

To mark my memory,
Or for me to mark you?
Your hopes, faded mortality,
Can’t you feel it?

It’s 0400hrs.
I’ve come to New York
Looking for you, hoping to find you
In this tragic crystal menagerie!

How many yellow cabs
Dart through the streets?
Each carrying you to me…
Each one telling a story!

Like black ravens carrying fresh carrion,
Darting through branches of silver oaks in Central Park,
As streams of consciousness
Through frozen fluid expressions.

When Times Square is deserted but for you,
Drinking under chill blue your last drop of hope,
Is that you my love?
Or is that me looking for you?

Your Beloved, Gretchen


Jul 13

Conversations with Q

Liebster Faust,

Es ist der 30. Maerz 2014. Ich Habe gewartet
Stunden wurden zu Tagen, Tage zu Jahren,
Jahrhunderte sind vergangen,
aber heute ist der Tag…

Deine Erinnerung jagt mich,
deine Augen durchdringen tief mein Erscheinungsbild,
nur du kannst mich sehen,
nur du…

Damals, als ich jung war,
schimmerten die Tage in lichtdurchlaessigen Farben,
dein Laecheln brach meine Seele, mein Innerstes,
Meine Welt wurde brutal zerrissen und machte mich vollstaendig.

Jede meiner Sehnen laechtzt danach deinen Willen zu vollbringen,
Jedem deiner Wuensche folgt eine Geste…
Meine Gedanken verraten mich,
Doch jedes Geheimnis bedeutet dein Vertrauen.

Tropfen wie Perlen, Regentropfen, Blut der Zeitalter,
Monde und Sonnen ueberwinden die verstaubte Tundra…
Wandernde Duenen,
Untergang der Reiche, Triumpf der Liebe…

Kannst du mich sehen, denn nur du kannst.
Ich gehoere dir, doch nur du willst nicht.
Schatten bedecken dein Gesicht.
Der Spiegel hat dein Bildnis verloren…

Aber wie ich es sagte, die Tage wurde zu Stunden,
wurden zu Lebensabschnitten,
Fluesse des Kampfes,
Reisen der Asche

Dennoch warte ich auf dich
Auf phantastischen Baellen und in atemberaubenden Hallen;
Unter Bruecken, gehuellt in schmutzige Fetzen,
sehend wie der Zug vorrueberfahert, vollgepackt mit totem Fleisch.

Ich sah dich die Telefonzelle betreten,
wie du angerufen hast,
mit ihm sprachst und
starbst. Ich habe dich sterben sehen.

Tausend Schlachten geschlagen,
Ich beobachtete als du starbst;
Und deine kleinen Triumpfe?
Abgedroschene, banale Triumpfe?

Prachtvolle Triumpfe, als du
Die Tiefe beruehrtest,
es brach der Wall, der dich gefangen hielt,
Deine Lippen beruehrten die meinen …

Aber wie ich es sagte, Ich habe dich vermisst.
Ich vermisse dich mit jedem Schlag meines Herzens,
Jeder Atemzug winkt dir zu…
Kannst du mich denn nicht sehen?

Ich bin hier, nicht weit weg…
Vor dir, nur acht Schritte entfernt
Kannst du mich beruehren? Kannst du mich streicheln?
Ich kann

Ich hoere deine Aengste,
Die tief sitzende Qual deines Verlustes.
Nicht laenger ein Kind, Herr der Traeume,
Gaensebluemchen, blaube popsicles und Spinnenweben…

Pergament und Graphit,
Anmut des Lichtes, Freude der Schatten,
begrierig nach meiner Waerme … was hast du davon
diesen Pfad zu erwaegen?

Mein Gedaechtnis zu markieren,
Oder dich fuer mich zu zeichnen?
Deine Hoffnungen, verblassende Sterblichkeit,
Kannst du es denn nicht spueren?

Es sind jetzt vier Stunden.
Ich bin nach New York gekommen,
Nach dir suchend und in der Hoffnung dich zu finden
In dieser tragischen Kristallmanege

Wie viele gelbe Taxis
Jagen durch die Strassen?
Ein jedes bringt mich dir entgegen
Ein jedes hat seine eigene Geschichte…

So wie die schwarzen Raben das frische Aas tragen,
ueber die silbernen Eichen des Central Parkes jagend,
wie Stroeme des Bewusstseins
durch eingefrorene, fluessige Ausdruecke.

Doch wenn der Times Square nur dir gehoert,
kannst du deinen letzten Tropfen Hoffnung unter  kaltem Blau drinken,
Bist du meine Liebe?
Oder bin das nur ich … auf der Suche nach dir?

Dein geliebtes Gretchen.

-G.M.S. und  I.A.T.


Jul 13

Quantum Consciousness

iliad terra

Streams of Consciousness

We live in extraordinary times…  Times of great turmoil and anxiety, and times of great hope and optimism.

We look around and the problems that have haunted us are still around us: poverty, inequality, abuse of power, and failure to make the right choices. Wars and tensions flare every which way we look.  Moral decay in the fabric of society, and most ominously the surrogate use of technology as a panacea for the ills we suffer, leave us weaker and further ensnared than before.

But, on the other hand, this is also a time of great achievement and hope. Technology and science are sources of tremendous new possibilities.  And the human spirit still endures and searches — we have beacons of light ignited by the actions of individuals and in the radiance of souls across our planet, all striving to turn Earth into a bright place, into a star.

The wonderful thing is that the number of these sources of light is growing as of late, among individuals and institutions, among leadership as well as the working class, and amid the poor and the rich, all across the world in soft revolutions, research labs, and in gatherings such as this.

The human story has gone through an amazing adventure over the past millennia and eons.  Looking back we see marked shifts in human evolution, not only in terms of technology, but also in terms of consciousness and morality.

Starting loosely around 600 BC our story passed through what is referred to as the First Axial Age, where individual thinkers and leaders across the planet, from Zarathustra to Buddha to Christ, within a brief period of time developed a new code of morality and ethics that transitioned humanity from old notions and beliefs that were no longer able to answer and satiate human hunger for identity, justice and ultimately relationship with the divine.

While the new age still remained an enchanted age, the individual was more empowered and held accountable to the greater good, almost as if the child had matured to become aware of its responsibility to the society around it.   Our collective id had given way to the greater self.  But still this was a mystical world, where the individual was connected to the mystical through powerful faith journeys.  Alchemy and science, astrology and astronomy were not separate.  It was still an age where reason and passion were the Twin Cords of the same helix.

But the Age of Reason ripped us away from all that, and we entered the period of rational thought and reason with thinkers like Isaac Newton and Rene Descartes and Darwin.  Logic and rational thought became more prominent than passion and the spirit.  This rift became apparent in the divergence of ideas and views amplified in differences such as between the Occident and the Orient, between duality and nonduality.  The whole was splintered into two halves.  We have been in that struggle ever since.

And so the “myth” of science was born in full glory — it is a myth, with its amazing theories, like any other myth that populates our conscious and unconscious minds —  and it quickly transformed this illusory world and crafted magnificent cities and nations full of logical and rational possibilities while at the same time stifling the spirit and imprisoning the soul in the age of machine.  a meta-alchemical experiment looking down at its founding origins took over our world view.  It spawned a flurry and a grand delusion with the disconnected power of our logic.

Yet the deeper we went into the gears of the machine, the more we realized that the same hunger persisted.  Machine and logic did not solve poverty, nor war, nor despair.  In some ways they caused it.

However, much to the credit and tenacity of the human spirit, we have at long last begun to re-discover our spiritual side.  In the Age of Quantum, uncertainty and unlimited probabilities in quantum physics has brought the specter of miraculous back into our dialog.  The Universe is responding to our overtures and experiments with infinite possibilities, and multiple dimensions of existence are part of our routine discourse nowadays.  We have a new age of enchantment and faith wrapped in the rigor of logic and science.  It looks as if we are becoming whole again, or actually greater than whole, in fact infinite beings…

In the Age of Quantum, technology fluidly and dynamically blends with faith to manifest new worlds.  What the mind conjures and projects becomes dimensional reality, “science fiction” becomes our actuality.   Once again we are discovering the power of miracles, miracles in our thoughts turn into actions.  We can walk on water and make bread in the sand to feast a million, we can heal the sick with a heart of gold and gesture of light.

Since December of last year and its marker in time, leading up to it and now past that threshold, there has been a slow evolving shift in collective consciousness.  We are cognizant of exponential momentum as our world and its matrix is spinning faster and faster.  Similarly we are in ever-larger numbers becoming an empowered global consciousness with its attendant realization of the deeper passage of our souls in this matrix of matter, and the incumbance of making clear and evolved choices.  The grand experiment of this world, of the Universe, is to make the correct choice at every singular fractal moment.  Our true portrait, the quantum portrait, if you will, of every story ever told, is the portrait of our choices.

Once again, everywhere we hear and witness with increasing frequency the old paradigms no longer sustaining our sense of identity.  In small ways and quiet moments we are becoming aware that we’re all beings of light, with infinite possibilities within our reach, and we are getting the sense that we hold the very key of the Universe in our hands, each and everyone of us.

We are no longer bound by race, by gender or by nation state.

This truly then is the rise of the Second Axial Age.  The shift in the Age of Quantum where the soul is birthed into its new paradigm:  from individual ego, past the global self, we become Universal beings, co-creators of the infinite holographic projection as we become beings of light coalescing QuantaNucleic Acid to create a new star.

-Iliad Terra