This is .... COML
From confusion and certainty; from conceptual disembarkation which is less clear. We exist from an intuitive desire to experience, and eventually die for an intuitive consciousness our five sensations are unaware.
A programmic statement for change invariably pays scant regard for its ill-effect. That ill-effect being dogma. And Capitalism does not exist. Society does not exist. There is no God other than intuition. Religion becomes Cancer. Interactivity of five sensations into a sixth; its' a numbers game distorted in an illusion of togetherness. Money mimics pretensions; of iconoclast extensions. A face wiped-clean. Lets begin.
Five Sensations
Sixth Sense
Decisions and Regret
Value
Waste, Inflation and Cancer
Interactivity
Absolution
Five Sensations
History is human experience which leads, descends, transforms us into a present moment. A moment of exaltation, a moment of torment. 'If we cannot draw on history', Goethe accorded, 'we are living hand to mouth'.
An opaque hand. A crystallised mouth. Unitised and congealed in time. Disjointed; painful. Memorised automation. Texture. Sound. Taste and further activity. Analogy.
Chronology. Piety. Aspiration. Unfulfilled. Cheapness overwhelming. Disoriented. In Versailles, in Dresden; in napalm lit candles. A marathon run over ice in sandals. A first strike and final blow. Autonomy in heaven. Submerged cessation. Morphine as invalid catastrophe guides a thousand mile pulse.
Congratulatory and indiscriminate. Sensation absorbed further and conscripted mutilation. Reality bites. Walk in days, in nights.
Sixth Sense
Intuition. Intensely. Fantastic. Intoxicating. Blinded by raging fire. Truth exchange within range of desire. Where honest pleasures fall in love.
Abandonment. Gauged. Out of a road to intuitive redemption. Mental strength which imagines a crowd and cause. Educated in downfall. Religion as opium on a podium with plasma and sodium.
Division, segment and partition revered. Welcome relief from congenital fear. Cultural dampening which we hold dear. Sacred reduction to crass cheer, walking [over] a cliff-edge of a brutal weekend.
As Sunday thinking recalls Friday drinking. And moral sinking. He offered his arm and his fatal charm and amid this dance and dalliance an adulterous trance had no care for he was her want and she was his quarry and he had no worry for polygamy in a diseased arcade in which music played over and over. It does not stop. Only reverbs and rots and echoes in minds and spectacles and glasses, and worn-out masses.
Lost in a world told to be theirs
Mythology preludes an autistic generation
Bibulous absorbing, flowing
Forethought;
Shadelight moves a baleful eye.
Enveloped mendacity pronounced with edge
Intonation turns phrase, universal
Anacoluthic telescope, transmitting you
How many lenses are needed?
Decisions and Regret
Pleasure a transmission, intellect a scrambler. Decode on your own. In sequence. With consequence. Intuitive steps into an unknown – beyond doubt – harbours a sceptical view as to what is new. Malignancy. Virulence. Vibrancy.
A smile which stretches and a frown which kills. Leaps from a tall building window sill. An untimely demise of a hung-up oration. Lost in an engaged phonetic conversation.
Rationing systems unable to afford their own benefits give rise to belief systems founded from this irrationality. Ideas become ideology. Ideology becomes dogmaticology. Regret becomes an inevitable delay in ponderous reflection as all races by. Holding on. Catching a cold. Losing ones' head.
Fragmentation wayside. Money mimics its own value. Its own liquidity. Its own irregularity. Its own absorbence. Its own promise. Its own discounts. Its own matter. Coarse. Neurotic. Restless. Subdued. World in situ which gets lived through.
History horizons cascading will
Eternal solarplepstic kill.
Heart sedulous, and leaving to chance
A passed down story of ancient romance.
In fastidious cancer and acid pearl cells
A didactic anguish deepening wells.
Logamatic bubbling, calibrating loss
Evolving theandric, Ubiquity
And Us.
Waste, Inflation and Cancer
Inflation a disease of money; cancer a disease of socially crude liquidity. Camels which pass through. Bring fascination. Bring sick. Brings its house down in one hit. Growth. Suicide. Affluence. Modernity inflates its own humanity. Its achievement. Time to chill. Take a pill.
Take a lonely journey, a carriage shunting. Roaming eyes of sexual hunting. Transient poverty as pictures rise. A beautiful rocking reprise.
Balloons over-filled. Forbalanced. Obsession a child of failing duplicity. Amanda searches for a lost baby, follows her umbilical severance into castles of sand. Near a calm sea and unearthed with her hand, there sucks a vacuum. Aborted. As Mary is born in a Spandau rose-garden. As she walked around vernal concrete she would rather. Unconnect. Speer’s path. And Goebbel’s cultural valium. Your game is up.
Interactivity
Time looping 24 hour bombardment. Exuberant will at arms length. A collapse endured. Moving in perpetual motion. Soundless. Soft. A wild dream. Capitulating and vindicated. Lies stretched and torn at seams. An antidote and infectious compounding. Words which play out.
Together and apart they came closer. Those which have moved through, in common sense under this solar. Experience of sensation. Intrepidation of free-standing realisation. That things are not discovered. Creation covered all those angles. A spirit to reach us.
Absolution
I spent some time to do a crime, I made it rhyme and cut it fine. Absolved from carcagens. It pays to think. A Christ we deserve. A choice which is yours.
Modern life is prescriptive because there is no cure. Cancer cures its own ills. Modern life is prognosed. Inevitable. There is no cure. Unescapable. Unoriginal. There is no cure. To make sense. Defeat its starting point. There is no cure. Disharmony which is harmony neveritsless. Unintuitive.
Forever more.
Jonathan Gulson
25.2.2007