Radiant Daggers

There’s a funny little secret about holographic projection…

It’s a funny little insidious secret that seduces with a full bouquet of guilt and misguided ideas.

A funny little secret that rips the flesh off your bones and wraps your identity around your neck like a noose and hangs you from the rafters of the cathedral of your delusions.

I can see you swaying to the winds of hope, hanging by the rope, singing the same old tune.

A rope made with your own misbegotten dope.

This secret creeps on you like wildfire through the chambers of your will…

And renders the world as you imagine it.

But what do you imagine?

Alas…

You have one last chance, this is the moment of your epiphany.

You have brought me here… so close your eyes, and choose…

Choose to rearrange your projection, recreate your mental atmosphere and populate it with your will to radiate.

At the nexus of the quantum matrix of infinite probabilities you can choose to drink the poison lullabies,

Or,

See yourself in your cosmic context, hurtling through the flux of space-time static continuum, chanting the symphony of a thousand stars, giving birth to radiant rivers of light, dancing like a lunArtic sophist, barefooted, through the asp-strewn catacombs of Angkor Watt, while the rhythm and vibrations of a Thousand-and-One projections merge and bubble and burst through the concrete and steel towers of your world, and explode into screaming whispers…

Wake up!

-IAT

So last night we three knights burnt the midnight candle,

Sires Iliad, Bryan and Keidawn.

We broke bread and poured wine on the charred fat of a hunted daemon.

We three fathers raised the dialogue and chose to sacrifice,

And construct an evolved RNA,

Bold, fresh and RAW!

For you see…

…blessed from the cauldron of divine crucible,

We crafted a Sowrd tempered by alloyed wordS

And Swore upon oath that

We each be custodian to children, and to their worldS.

And by the breath of the hidden enigma,

We vowed to fashion a Dagger and wrest the pearl from the Dragon’s lair.

-Iliad Alexander Terra

i Ching Residence, Potomac Maryland

Guys,

It was a delight…

Passion tempered with reason shall unfurl our sails onto yonder seas; and we, intrepid sojourners, destined by the trellis of kismet and grace of God, as Knights Templar, shall craft a mason temple ’round Parsifal’s quest.

“What ails you world?” that is the question.

Empathy is the transcendent state of existence in occidental dialect, far superseding the noble yet juvenile affectations of Hamlet: “to be or not to be.”

We shall do more than ‘to be’, we shall radiate unto the world a new paradigm architectonica, verily fashioned from Thor’s thunder!

May the winds be behind us and adventure our muse…

Yours In Arms

-Iliad

politics and tweeter and war and architecture and mass media and pop-culture and life and a whole lot of swirling mush of mess, and you get a cloud to decipher string theory and walk through walls, oh my…

.

.

The world has grown old

And tired, and soon will fold.

.

Where once stood men who were bold

Now whisper catacombs filled with corpses and mold.

.

We used to be warm with dreams of fires where stories were told

But now shiver in ashes and gray skies and nothing but cold.

.

To what daemon have we our precious souls so carelessly sold

When once we were heroes made so valiantly of gold?

.

Yet, how tender as all the school kids across town cheered, behold!

When the snow monster over our jeweled city rolled.

.

-IAT