Month: March 2021

Simon Peter Said To Him

Simon Peter said to him, you are like a just messenger. 

I resist the return to religion: Asia abhors dogma.  Yet my religion – this Spirit – assaults even the icon of Asia, Asia image and imagination.  Yet write religion without boundary: write religion without limitation.  Not syncreticism or synthesis but the boxing beyond.  Beyond Yahweh, to Woman.  Beyond Yahweh to Asia Rain.  Chop and screw.  Cut and sample.  Collide and clash text to text, an intertextual intimacy.  Scripture seduces scripture.  Scriptire seduces the salacious slice of the sentence, and sentence seizes me.  Sentence strips me bare before Asia, a vulnerable vision, a vulnerable velocity, a valley pink violet.

This can be explained that the plants only emerged as far as the surface of the ground, and there remained until Adam prayed for rain.  The rain then fell and all the plants and trees began to grow from the ground.  I pray for Asia zrain and her plants bloom bountiful Benjamin all around her.  The ground germinated all gods and goddesses, the Table Taryn Torah Of Generations, and my soul gives birth to God Benjamin.  My soul slips solace the givenness that gives birth God Benjamin, and all I dip in the letter becomes Divine.  All I baptize in the Asia Alphabet becomes an Aleph-null, beginning infinity and starting infinite, stratified in the stretch of human skin and human library.

Book buries bodies.  Book blisters bodies.  Book buoys bodies.  The Christ and Christian Body.  The Christina and Christ body and I build the brick body and body barrels gnosis.  Body betrys gnosis near gnosis and gnosis narrows gnosis a Taryn Thomas.  Simon Peter Taryn Thomas Androgynous and she speaks Asia Rain as a spigot and reservoir.  She slikes Asia Axel wheel in wheel four evangelists and four creatures, and Simon Peter merges with Simon Magus.  Simon Peter Magus levitates light and lasers and speaks transfiguration tabernacles, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah, mediator and mediatrix between Law and Prophets an Ancient of Ancient Antinomian (a Torah commandment can be fulfilled by breaking it – to eat an almond, one must first crack the shell.  I crack the shell of Shekinah.  I open openings shell singles shell the signs Asia Rain and we eat anarchy.  We eat free dance separate together the sounds and movement united by their mere presence.  Texts united by their mere juxtaposition, speaking as a just messenger

Excerpt from Opossums for Asia Rain (I Listen To The Band American Football)

I listen to the band American Football. Their second LP. Underrated LP. Just as their first LP soundtracked my teenage youth, this soundtracks my middle aged blues. The middle aged blues where I don’t feel middle aged but still in my 20s and hell if I know how to adult or grow up (Tom Waits’ I Don’t Want To Grow Up. The Ramones Cover I Don’t Want to Grow Up). My instincts are the enemy. I warned you. I enjoy the interplay of bass and guitars. Bass proves to be a good addition and adds depth although it leaves less space for the guitars. I remember as a teenager shopping at Music Trend. I bought the Deftones White Pony there – both the limited edition with the extra song The Boy’s Republic and the regular version. I bought Isis’ Celestial and I listened to post-metal. I listened to Neurosis’ Times of Grace and Through Silver in Blood. Music measured my days. When Music Trend went out of business I bought the Complete Anton Webern. I still remember what Thomas Pynchon wrote about Webern in Gravity’s Rainbow. The barbarians coming to take the last European. Music Trend had the complete Shostakovich String Quartets and I still regret not buying it. Shostakovich, a third pressing of Mahler, said Boulez. Boulez was such an asshole. I love the grandiosity and ego of Pierre Boulez, but he could act like a real asshole. I love Shostakovich.

I wanted to write symphonies but I write books instead.

What was it that Mahler said? A symphony is like a world – it must embrace everything. The Book is a world – it embraces everything. Even Asia’s Book must embrace all things.

I always return to John Coltrane like I always return to the Desert like I always return to God. I return to John Coltrane simply as I return to God the Desert simply. Desert simplicity as God simplicity: simplicity in the void and abyss of love. I listen to Offering: Live at Temple University by John Coltrane, and I enjoy the intensity and flurries of this version of Naima. Naima nerves the network and jet net woman and I worship at this Offering. I work at this office and offspring. I walk the water well and welcome the desert oasis in opening love, an agape for Adonai and Asia Rain. Benjamin Joseph, do you truly love me more than these? Lord, above all things, you know I love you. Tend my sheep. I tend to and towards the typing and tyrfing of Taryn. I tend too, and tow the tinkering topaz tropez, sparkling Asia’s engagement ring, and I wish I could attend her wedding. I wish I could attend her wedding and fistfight her brother-in-law and the ruckus wrecks wrestling and vestiges (I joke, Asia; I would be a very polite guest and eat all your vegan food until it gave me a great vision of the future figure and flesh of the second coming of Jesus). I listen to Leo and Crescent, and hear Pharoah Sanders scream sonic boom saxophone, genuine guile and gail, and his sounds invade Gaul. His saxophone sears sapsuckers dressed in seersucker, and boils bones in witch’s cauldron.

I have been rethinking my spirituality and flirtation with witchcraft, says Asia. Nothing against witchcraft but I just don’t want labels. I don’t want boundaries or comfort zones. I want to escape dogmas. Float around in the abyss and collect trinkets that ring with truth, she says.

I wonder if I’m attempting something similar, pushing Christianity to its limits, I say. My Rector told me once, God cannot be contained in human symbols or symbology. I have been thinking about that.

I believe you can find the spiritual in almost everything, says Asia. I believe reality is just as holy as the spiritual realm. It rings with creation. Truth can be both water and stone, ever changing or unmoving, says Asia.

I think about my own writing, which magicks and prophesies, and I too want to write without boundaries or comfort zones. I want our writing to contain everything, and everything spirits and sparks Sophia and Shekinah. All reflects and directs Godhead, even the pulp and pornographic. The trash layer, as PKD calls it. I want to betray my own style and cliches and break through into the new. Make everything new! said the Imagists. Make everything renew and revive.