… a thought making crooked all that is straight.

Automatic writing: the faceless face of the dead

Steel balls of aural vibration swing back and forth between my ears oscillating my cerebral hemispheres, creating a circle of outward moving ripples rippling inward outward – phantasm. Furrows in my brow and brain; the earthy land seeds the dirt in waves ploughed straight unlike my mind. The thought making crooked all that is straight. Smudged skulls push up from the earth faceless faces upturned to the sky. They stare open mouthed slack jawed speaking black words from tongue-less cracked-toothed chasms. The mouth is the channel downward down into the cavernous darkness underworld where spirits in bony form push away from the burning core, flames-not-hell, gravitas of the earth’s core, molten metal pulling down to seal the coffin. Bending low, crouched with yoni open to the earth, lowering my mouth – open above and so below – I breathe in the earth and exhume the dead up into flesh, my wombless womb and pounding lungs. Inhabit me. Fingers gripping the clay heavy red earth blood on the landscape, everywhere is DeathLife. I a conduit joining two, a portal gateway passing point liminal body where spirits may dwell as my heart shunts blood in a pulsing roar from artery to vein. Cut me here to bleed on the ground and feed the revenant’s gaping mouth. Poking fingers in and through the empty eyes, blind yet seeing more than I could ever see with these brown-green dotted irises and pupils black blacker blackest. Night-time vision seeing Them. In seeing I am seen and all become visible to the dark light, the midnight sun that rises up between my legs, ascending to pinnacle in a place that is me transcending all times and places – the point of congress egress ingress by the haunting spirits. Aakhu blessed dead coming forth. Face to the earth, now the worms crawl into my nostrils as I inhale the dirt and dig my body back into the darkness whence it came and always comes. Come morning I will bleed again and lift my head to sky seeing through the blue of heaven – the first face – onwards through the stratosphere and onwards home to the faceless face of All.

©StarofSeshat 2016

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2 responses

  1. Paul

    This is a very powerful and visceral piece. It’s interesting that it’s very focused, moving to an epiphany/ revelation, whereas much automatism moves in a very random fashion. e.g the breadboxes are rushed out to meet the jailers of false tigers – my random chunk of faux surrealism. Or else it can be very vague e.g mankind must cease from war if it is to have peace. This is quite different, a channelling perhaps. Please share more as and when it occurs.

    March 2, 2016 at 2:38 pm

  2. Thanks, Paul! It came as I listened to that piece of music and was a mixture of visions “in my forehead” and words that “descended” into my mind. It was great to give up control and just write. I will definitely do more. I think it could be a great way for me to channel the spirits … so many use art, but not so many use words. My art is too pedestrian but I hope I can be open to achieving something MORE through my words. Thanks for the encouragement! Much appreciated ❤

    March 2, 2016 at 5:09 pm

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