Post by Nalyd Khezr Bey on Oct 16, 2013 5:02:29 GMT
The following is one of the results of what I talked about HERE.
CCVII: Tu Los-Sol
Entering the Twin Summit of Fire and Imagination
Personal difficulties have now crystallized into genetic memories.
Their subsidiaries have attached themselves to one particular condition of manifestation.
These memories have now become unknown separate entities disguised in the slightly hysterical spontaneity of one’s own literature.
Their proportions are an inferiority to be acknowledged and examined closely.
Sometimes these observations will ignite an idea of power but this transmission of subliminal wisdom will never be held as validated proof of ancient divinity.
Heathen images are the source of our courageous narrative; cruel and hostile.
Some shall flee into puerile insignificance.
Others will await a prophecy and preoccupy themselves with numerous texts and delicate formulations of sanctified testimonies.
This passage is necessary for obtaining the strength to embrace the law of derangement.
The profusion of this intrinsic expression is found within a splendid shadow.
We are now possessed of the wonderfully stretched radiance of the soft sun behind the sky.
For the first time I began to hear the moaning hidden in the shade of magical glamour.
The primordial blood spilled from the centuries to seed civilizations within a given network of planets; interfacing the sinister with the strange and combining instruments of speechless magnitude.
We have evoked the vanished nightmare of frightful infinity and the crawling redundancy of the mass product.
Internally we must engender a different plane.
On the threshold you will find the Stone of the Mysteries.
Only in the vast nowhere are we all one and completely alone.
From this cycle of loneliness emerges the manifestation of action and the obscure vision of your veiling perception.
This is a necessary falsehood to be discovered as a painfully brilliant summit of insufficient qualities and interpretations.
Our tradition was buried so you are right to pursue your research and the identification of authenticity in excavated locations elsewhere in the sacred island that upholds the world’s circumstance.
We rarely speak of the Green Stone but just know that it is the true invisible crown surrounding the paradox of pure being.
The garden of memory has been divided by an essence of conflict that has existed for aeons between twisted guardians and spinning stars.
Your primal impulse is formless and devoid of aspect.
There is no practical way to convey it as a substance except to intoxicate it with images and manufacture its realization.
This is an undermining of the perceptible, not a denial, as these words will come to make sense in time.
Some will be convinced that they have uncovered insane conjectures hidden within the terrible rites of an obscure witch cult.
Others will find a haunter gazing into the blackness of their hearts.
We have spoken of a knowledge that demands a monstrous connection to a revealed book.
This relationship is a progress.
Its glow is something of opulence and angels and will be revealed through a passage between the sun and a fairy ring.
At night children do not speak without a purpose.
Extended fingers point us to serene gatherings where lovers and poets attempt to summon, access and transmit the impossible nostalgia of faded puzzles and elemental apparitions.
Our finality has been inherited from a miserable potential and this uneasy horror is merely a calling to our journey.
Bright flashes of sound usher our awareness into the depth of the spectral ocean.
Beneath your conformity there is a lingering desire crying for painted mistresses and burnt kisses.
You will reminisce over long lost lovers you never knew.
Charting the directional matrices we begin casting charged extravagances upon the evening pool of attentive thoughts invoking the ardent sense of rapture.
The spirit whispers minor inspirations from the crevices of the foundation.
Unspoken fables will signal a marvelous union of tongues and mutual relations.
We have engaged in the sacrament of soma and elevated the primary quest to miraculously equate the mystery written and sustained by the procession of the Grail.
This divine seduction is a technique of erotic detachment and submissive passion.
The vehicle transmutes to a grotesque corpse prepared for consummation.
This will become your aesthetic preference.
Your unyielding adherence to the materialization of your inhibitions will prove to be the key.
It will only take the violation of a single liberty.
A remote lamp is reflected in the shining spiral of silence.
One day they will awaken from the carved ivory winds of sleep and grasp this dark change of landscape.
Only the dead will welcome the solitary few.
We will come to know the secrets that hide within oracular questions.
This fate is written across the skies.
We have now done everything we can to embrace the stellar worship of the sacred stone.
Our adorations have matured into the possession of the blood spirit.
Mythic creations are the basis for conceptions of language.
The intelligences developed by the subliminal Plasmate are represented by demons of the elements, personified souls of dead protectors and living guardian angels.
This will become most eminent with the marriage of modern precision and traditional legendry.
We have witnessed the triumphant rebirth of the Gnostic heresy and the apocalypse of the origin of information.
These words are a defecation of the Logos on the absolute veracity of influential churches.
The primitive birth of more perfect gods was the fault of irrational priests.
Here was their ceremonial instruction: Align the mirror within the chamber to the directional rotation of the axis.
The center should completely enclose the altar.
Place the vessel of the heart within the circle and project its essence into the fire.
Perform the serpent purifications.
Impregnate the sacred plant with the sacrificial excellence and bind it to the forbidden treasures that reside in dreams.
Then perform the supreme banishment of magical absorption.
This operation must never be performed with a desire for progress.
To do so will result in the most abhorrent taboos.
Certain magical impurities can become principles of contagion and these germs are the seeds of the conflict of good and evil.
Seeds of this type have fertilized our world.
Most are now bound by their dependence and prostrate themselves to the obedient nature of the dog.
The Adept should declare the true doctrine of the Rose as a semblance of the wandering moment of death.
The gravity of this temptation is sublimated in the wisdom of glistening vegetation and the myths of a lost continent.
Demons will soon be crowned with the curse of mortal sleep.
The peculiar woodwork of many ages is revealed in the lamentations of collective minds.
This intermediate encounter will reward you with the ability to penetrate the eighth sphere of translation.
The deliberately accidental have now emerged from the earth.
These common mortals have shaped themselves as questions of probability and are now busy gathering the remains of their consequences and the eyes of their character.
The elemental transference is to be delegated by the primitive dust of alchemists, obtaining the purpose of ecstatic alignments.
We are convinced that the origin of the word is elsewhere.
The severed head is a blind for the wondrous stone and the sacred trees are its offspring.
This world is an enduring vision of sudden terror and danger, opening a crevice between the stone pillars of misery and suffering.
The Great Work is an exercise in the ultimate abstraction; the complete and permanent removal from the illusory spectacle of matter.
Most will be deceived by hesitation and inadvertently condemned to wishful thinking or destroyed in the wilderness of the maleficent spirit.
Never underestimate the significance of imaginary difficulties.
Inorganic beings are continually sending forth joy and madness.
This framework is specific to the evolution of cosmic projection.
Outgoing thoughts will pass through a system of ugly proportions developed on the inner planes, breaking the burdens of beautiful trembling.
My own vanished astonishment will not let me remember my own sanity.
I wandered into amnesia and became deranged with isolation.
Conscious suffering has made us anxious to transcend the narrow parameters of our cosmogony.
This irregular intensity has conspired to occupy the uncoiling formula of the serpent illusion.
The original observation temple was a circle of stones that unlocked a gateway to the Gnostic Mirror.
All of us must learn to drift the waters of time and listen to the principle of nowhere.
The suggestion of this final oracle should be exhausted through peripheral research; Anamnesis needs nothing and death yields love’s aching narrative.
(September/October 2010)
Entering the Twin Summit of Fire and Imagination
Personal difficulties have now crystallized into genetic memories.
Their subsidiaries have attached themselves to one particular condition of manifestation.
These memories have now become unknown separate entities disguised in the slightly hysterical spontaneity of one’s own literature.
Their proportions are an inferiority to be acknowledged and examined closely.
Sometimes these observations will ignite an idea of power but this transmission of subliminal wisdom will never be held as validated proof of ancient divinity.
Heathen images are the source of our courageous narrative; cruel and hostile.
Some shall flee into puerile insignificance.
Others will await a prophecy and preoccupy themselves with numerous texts and delicate formulations of sanctified testimonies.
This passage is necessary for obtaining the strength to embrace the law of derangement.
The profusion of this intrinsic expression is found within a splendid shadow.
We are now possessed of the wonderfully stretched radiance of the soft sun behind the sky.
For the first time I began to hear the moaning hidden in the shade of magical glamour.
The primordial blood spilled from the centuries to seed civilizations within a given network of planets; interfacing the sinister with the strange and combining instruments of speechless magnitude.
We have evoked the vanished nightmare of frightful infinity and the crawling redundancy of the mass product.
Internally we must engender a different plane.
On the threshold you will find the Stone of the Mysteries.
Only in the vast nowhere are we all one and completely alone.
From this cycle of loneliness emerges the manifestation of action and the obscure vision of your veiling perception.
This is a necessary falsehood to be discovered as a painfully brilliant summit of insufficient qualities and interpretations.
Our tradition was buried so you are right to pursue your research and the identification of authenticity in excavated locations elsewhere in the sacred island that upholds the world’s circumstance.
We rarely speak of the Green Stone but just know that it is the true invisible crown surrounding the paradox of pure being.
The garden of memory has been divided by an essence of conflict that has existed for aeons between twisted guardians and spinning stars.
Your primal impulse is formless and devoid of aspect.
There is no practical way to convey it as a substance except to intoxicate it with images and manufacture its realization.
This is an undermining of the perceptible, not a denial, as these words will come to make sense in time.
Some will be convinced that they have uncovered insane conjectures hidden within the terrible rites of an obscure witch cult.
Others will find a haunter gazing into the blackness of their hearts.
We have spoken of a knowledge that demands a monstrous connection to a revealed book.
This relationship is a progress.
Its glow is something of opulence and angels and will be revealed through a passage between the sun and a fairy ring.
At night children do not speak without a purpose.
Extended fingers point us to serene gatherings where lovers and poets attempt to summon, access and transmit the impossible nostalgia of faded puzzles and elemental apparitions.
Our finality has been inherited from a miserable potential and this uneasy horror is merely a calling to our journey.
Bright flashes of sound usher our awareness into the depth of the spectral ocean.
Beneath your conformity there is a lingering desire crying for painted mistresses and burnt kisses.
You will reminisce over long lost lovers you never knew.
Charting the directional matrices we begin casting charged extravagances upon the evening pool of attentive thoughts invoking the ardent sense of rapture.
The spirit whispers minor inspirations from the crevices of the foundation.
Unspoken fables will signal a marvelous union of tongues and mutual relations.
We have engaged in the sacrament of soma and elevated the primary quest to miraculously equate the mystery written and sustained by the procession of the Grail.
This divine seduction is a technique of erotic detachment and submissive passion.
The vehicle transmutes to a grotesque corpse prepared for consummation.
This will become your aesthetic preference.
Your unyielding adherence to the materialization of your inhibitions will prove to be the key.
It will only take the violation of a single liberty.
A remote lamp is reflected in the shining spiral of silence.
One day they will awaken from the carved ivory winds of sleep and grasp this dark change of landscape.
Only the dead will welcome the solitary few.
We will come to know the secrets that hide within oracular questions.
This fate is written across the skies.
We have now done everything we can to embrace the stellar worship of the sacred stone.
Our adorations have matured into the possession of the blood spirit.
Mythic creations are the basis for conceptions of language.
The intelligences developed by the subliminal Plasmate are represented by demons of the elements, personified souls of dead protectors and living guardian angels.
This will become most eminent with the marriage of modern precision and traditional legendry.
We have witnessed the triumphant rebirth of the Gnostic heresy and the apocalypse of the origin of information.
These words are a defecation of the Logos on the absolute veracity of influential churches.
The primitive birth of more perfect gods was the fault of irrational priests.
Here was their ceremonial instruction: Align the mirror within the chamber to the directional rotation of the axis.
The center should completely enclose the altar.
Place the vessel of the heart within the circle and project its essence into the fire.
Perform the serpent purifications.
Impregnate the sacred plant with the sacrificial excellence and bind it to the forbidden treasures that reside in dreams.
Then perform the supreme banishment of magical absorption.
This operation must never be performed with a desire for progress.
To do so will result in the most abhorrent taboos.
Certain magical impurities can become principles of contagion and these germs are the seeds of the conflict of good and evil.
Seeds of this type have fertilized our world.
Most are now bound by their dependence and prostrate themselves to the obedient nature of the dog.
The Adept should declare the true doctrine of the Rose as a semblance of the wandering moment of death.
The gravity of this temptation is sublimated in the wisdom of glistening vegetation and the myths of a lost continent.
Demons will soon be crowned with the curse of mortal sleep.
The peculiar woodwork of many ages is revealed in the lamentations of collective minds.
This intermediate encounter will reward you with the ability to penetrate the eighth sphere of translation.
The deliberately accidental have now emerged from the earth.
These common mortals have shaped themselves as questions of probability and are now busy gathering the remains of their consequences and the eyes of their character.
The elemental transference is to be delegated by the primitive dust of alchemists, obtaining the purpose of ecstatic alignments.
We are convinced that the origin of the word is elsewhere.
The severed head is a blind for the wondrous stone and the sacred trees are its offspring.
This world is an enduring vision of sudden terror and danger, opening a crevice between the stone pillars of misery and suffering.
The Great Work is an exercise in the ultimate abstraction; the complete and permanent removal from the illusory spectacle of matter.
Most will be deceived by hesitation and inadvertently condemned to wishful thinking or destroyed in the wilderness of the maleficent spirit.
Never underestimate the significance of imaginary difficulties.
Inorganic beings are continually sending forth joy and madness.
This framework is specific to the evolution of cosmic projection.
Outgoing thoughts will pass through a system of ugly proportions developed on the inner planes, breaking the burdens of beautiful trembling.
My own vanished astonishment will not let me remember my own sanity.
I wandered into amnesia and became deranged with isolation.
Conscious suffering has made us anxious to transcend the narrow parameters of our cosmogony.
This irregular intensity has conspired to occupy the uncoiling formula of the serpent illusion.
The original observation temple was a circle of stones that unlocked a gateway to the Gnostic Mirror.
All of us must learn to drift the waters of time and listen to the principle of nowhere.
The suggestion of this final oracle should be exhausted through peripheral research; Anamnesis needs nothing and death yields love’s aching narrative.
(September/October 2010)
