I Prophesy The Women In My Life

I decide to write and prophesy the women in my life     I prophesy faith decision and undecidable mystery, and this mystery writes women mad in my mind mad

All decisions decide on faith and my faith unfixes prophecy: my faith flirts prophecy abrupt.  Abrupt decision prophecies woman in non-idiomatic improvisation.
	(Improvisation: one plays what one already knows.  I improvise anyways and
	 impossibly search for what I’ve never played.  Forget and prophesy.  
	 Prophesy with paradoxical not-gnosis and simultaneous pleromic-gnosis.)
All decisions decide mad faith and mad improvisation: women

I decide to write and prophesy the women in my life – undecidable woman – woman of and in faith – she lights the lights of my flowing faith     My faith flows feminine field / fluxus dada desert
	Woman KRYSXTRYN     Woman Asia Rhizome     Asia Among Weevils animal
	architect: stars smear telescope architect tone tantalus
Write woman and women androgynous KRYSXTRYN + Ben Lydia / Ben Lydian


//
Swan sleep more constraints more limitations.  More constraints: swan constraints.  Undecidable continuity mad dis/continuity.  Constraints Lagrange Multipliers multiply.  More constraints more limitations / no limit no bones.  I build up the bone more limitations.

(We weren’t interested in the notion of transitions of making material whose only function was to get you from point A to point B.  We were just interested in Point A then Point B then Point C and so on, but not in this business of tying them up somehow with ribbon)

Swan sweep not a limit but little Christmas lights across the body
	To swan the sleep big majesty for best
I star majesty for best and a world is bring to death make make.  A word is bring to great make.  A word and word bring ben hinnom.

Not interested in transitions – transitions – transitions the descent beckons as the ascent beckoned – memory is a kind of accomplishment – sort of a renewal even an initiation since places it opens new places

(Not so much a new vocabulary or a new syntax, but new arrangements of my already-existing languages)

Since their movements are towards new objectives

To swan swing more constraints more limitations sound swing more limitations
Omen of vivid amphibian swings amen
Omen amen vivid amphibians merge amen omen

(Prophecy arranges and reveals arrangement rearranged anew prophecy renews arrangement, and arrangement gather amen and omen to itself itself revelation)

Movement but not transition movement movement in its movement (my body in movements for the sake of movement itself freely open open my body – my body moves from movement to movement in movement continue without transitions.  Not conventional transition but arrangement reveal moments and moment sprout arrangements movement.)
//


I decide to write and prophesy undecidable the women in my life
	Woman KRYSXTRYN
	Women Asia With Weevils
Asia Rhizome smears telescope star tore tentacles / octopus tentacles entrap squid tentacles pulse ink

You have a very rigid way of doing things, says Asia.  You HAVE TO edit old work, you HAVE TO write our conversations.  It’s very demanding and doesn’t leave room to branch out much.  I can’t make that decision for you – it’s got to be organic.  You have to step out of your comfort zone though, says Asia.

I decide to write     I decide edit old work your comfort zone     That decision for your comfort zone
	That decision for you have to edit
	Have to to no transition
	Have to sleep swan or geese
	That decision amen or omen
She lights the lights flows my faith our comfort zone through room to

Woman KRYSXTRYN telescope squid tentacles propeller pulse ink     Ink innards australis terra element X (Elephant Man X Mary X)


//
Not interested in transition but playing without memory

Improvisation: one plays what one already knows
	Already dense adjusted nonsense
	Nonsense genius loci guitarfish
	Gooseflesh various marine cartilaginous fishes / my flattened guitar body
Flatter cartilaginous body: you leave you your rigid     HAVE room way to got zone     Sacred nonsense and mad decision fish woman
	My pectoral fins fuse to the sides of my head

My body melts into gelatin: gelatinous gods and cartilage Christs.  My body melts and flows quicker: more room and less rigid.  Rearrangements make room for flexibility / flexibilities.  It’s very demanding and it doesn’t leave pain to branch out baby, but I branch rock-a-bye baby in the company of wolves.  I make the decision as a slippery organism and I step out of my comfort zone.

Improvisation: aleatoric oval opal amen     Aleatoric animal (telescope Asia With Weevils) or alphabet aghast
	Viscous visionary vermilion
	Chaotic camille unsealed steel smear seal sound
	Smear star architecture without transitions

Improvisation: one plays what one already knows but I don’t know     I melt slippery cloud of unknowing     I sidestepping transition SOMETHING ELSE and SOMETHING DIFFERENT     I play omen and amen complete science fiction sessions
//


I decide female faith and it song disasters     I decide for you its got to be amperes
	You have to step outside your comfort zone though
I decide to write and prophesy undecidable women in my life

I Decide To Create And Pursue Whimsy

All decisions decide on faith All decisions decide undecidable, an undecidable faith My faith as flow and flux undecidable My faith flows flux white furniture furniture flesh / phantom furniture a body in the freezer

I decide on this other decision and this decision – and to decide to decide and to decide otherwise or counterclockwise decide – mystical decisions. I decide onto decisions and I always decide on faith onto I always decide on faith into – mystery of mysteries. I decide on mystery – mystery of narrative. All decisions reveal parables (the Kingdom of Heaven is like yeast that woman took and mixed it with three measures of flour until it was all leavened). Yeast is there measures of flour. I hid within the decision of her name parable and narrative. I decide on heaven lightmoth more heaven: heavenly hell.

//
All decisions decide on faith – I decide on the miniature and vignette and in start vision

(It was always dangerous to drive with her since he insisted the safety cones were a slalom course)

(He took one look at what was under the table and noped the hell out there)

He insisted on the slalom course snow cones (cones cut into cones: sound sine echoes) Under the table, the underworld beckons (The ascent beckon as the ascent beckoned. The descent beckoned as the ascent beckoned. Memory is a kind of accomplishment, a renewal even.)

I decide on the miniature and I decide on the variable vision. I read William Carlos Williams and I misread beckons into beckoned and beckoned into beckon. Vision beckoned beckon vignette beckoned beckon. I always dangerous danger write danger music and danger cuts cones into cones sound-sines. I reread descent and ascent and I accomplish in memory. I accomplish memory ascent and I accomplish memory ascent.

I take one look under the table and revise the descent as parable.

Did you watch the news? Unfortunately, yes, says Asia. Unless you have different terrible news. Nah, it’s the same news… Do you think we will survive the news? Yeah, we will survive, says Asia. I am going to continue prophesying and creating, I say. I will continue to create and pursue whimsy, says Asia.

It was always dangerous to prophesy and how dangerous to prophesy Ben with Ben but I decide prophecy. I decide the prophecy beckons and beckoned renewed memory / melody
Prophesy whimsy
Yes unless same
Yeah and you new

I think a look at what under and I will survive the same news Yeah we will continue prophesying to continue

All decisions decide on faith and I decide on miniatures and vignettes and instant visions
//

All decisions decide on faith All decisions decide undecidable, an undecidable faith – an undecidable narrative – an undecidable parable

I hide parable – dangerous leaven – in something sonata-allegro form and rondos

My faith flows flow fluxes flux undecidable My faith flows flux leaven lux white light leaven / phantom parables in the freezer

I decide on a rereading of the ascent. Unfortunately yes unless you have different terrible sort. I am going to hysteria prophesying and creating. I will hysteria to create and donkey whimsy.

I prophesy dangerous parable and wild whimsy

I prophesy dangerous. You might be thinking of something entirely different, and then tune into a process that’s going on somewhere. It might be a thematic idea or a purely structural idea, with its main pivots: a big time span, with departure points, and arrival points, but you don’t know what’s between them.

I decide on an arrival and a departure: point pointing to point points suspensions. It’s the same news. It’s the same news – a kind of accompaniment, a sort of renewal even. I decide on impossible arrival and departure points. (I descend to the departures and I ascent to the arrivals). I decide to create and pursue whimsy.

//
I decide on the visionary vignette and theopoetic miniature

Asia writes the following poem:

Stale goldfish swimming in a pond
Do they think of flying?
Grab a fat goldfish in your hand
Hefty and round like a summer tomato
What do they dream of?
Do they dream about streams and river?
Or just their next meal.

I like grabbing the fat and summer tomato, I say. I grabbed Calliope yesterday, says Asia. Just scooped him up. No net. He was like a tomato, says Asia.

I received a heavy fine but it fans to crush my spirit

I receive holy spirit and spirit invades the cabinets and crawl spaces

He strives to keep the best lawn in the neighborhood

What does a Jean-Michel Basquiat semantic field have to do with the Book? How to apply it to the Book? I study the field of facts Book and spirit decision: KRYSXTRYN, gods, Bible and Exegesis, Child of Humanity… I grab the fact facts about Ben Adam / Benjamin Ariadne – I grab goldfish facts about KRYSXTRYN + Asia Rhizome – I swim in pond-facts and field-water and parable and decision, and I sculpt my texts art assemblages (the descent beckons as the ascent beckoned).

Goldfish vision rains decision no net. No net. No net but parable deciduous.

I insisted the semantically field is a slalom course and a summer tomato I slalom grabbing in the fat and rivers
Under the table underworld
Under the table flying goldfish leaven hidden in parables

The ascent beckons and the ascent beckoned, and I decide on renewing memory – parable archive – decision library

I decide on field flux fluxes flow goldfish underneath
//

All decisions decide on faith All decisions decide undecidable, an undecidable faith (Again, the Kingdom of Heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind; when is was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets and threw out the bad)
I net that thrown no net
No net of swarm rivers or grabbed flying
My faith flows flux white white blue-white blue flesh / phantom blue body in the freezer

I Kiss Christina Into My Ground

I prophesy-play most large cosmic eggs – egg stratified bark – bark barks steal aleatoric fires – improvises fire ben hinnom

Prophesy time when – when twa tur tonic prophecy

Prophesy prophecy contraindicated – contamination – contradiction – improvised prophecy open to horrors and kissing horrors Prophesy prophecy contorted pulse contort impulse contort

I open the space for other prophecy and other push-pulls fiery pulses. I open prophetic space and I thought I invented a new type of prophecy but now I know I was prophecy without signing my names. Nevertheless, the names contaminate and contradict and contort prophecies. I open prophetic space which pulses a polyphonic monomania (contradictory many monomanias). I anticipate prophecy and aleatoric fires and the bone that engraved Three Steles of Seth. I prophesy open and open and fiery open impulse.

(Three Steles of Seth sword repetition Three Steles of Seth improvise Taryn parking lot kisses Three Steles set fire to the false Tree of Life)

I open the space for other prophecy and other open pulse (pulse – pulse – ice pulse slice pulse-pulse punch pantonal gold) Open space for space and I do not sign my name but name invisible escapes pulse occult reveals
Sell my soul soft anarchy
Pulse anarchy – pulse anarchy – pulse anarchy
Pulse community – continuum – Christina open fires open

//
Christina keep karst catacomb her crow ghosts Christina keep karst fire kisses – coal seam fire kisses – burning and burning and burning ghost improvisation
I cask Christina into my heart Lord have mercy Christ have mercy
I ask Christina kissing cheek catacombs and head of host
I cask Christina dark was the night cold was the ground I kiss Christina into my ground cask I kiss Christina into my ground rather be the devil than that woman man

Nobody’s fault but mine I kiss Christina into my ground nobody’s fault but mine I kiss Christina into my ground Lord have mercy Christ have mercy
Devil changed my baby’s mind
Devil bark bark sheol ben hinnom
Christina kiss cheek Steles and head of hosts limestone I ask Christina into my heart nothing but the devil
//

I prophesy play most fires – aleatoric fires – improvised fires – without control fires Fires play fires this fire to this fire whenever
Play without name street lights vanish and crickets flare up
Without most names streetlight tasmanian tiger vanishes
Her cricket work wheels cricket work
Most kill pandas without permission

The grown up pandas are just as cute as the babies, says Christina.

Will you forgive me for kissing you on top of the head? I say to Christina. I’m sorry I did so. I forgive you – but how will you atone? she says. What do you think I should do to atone? My twelve-year old brain wanted to say something sexy and silly, but I’m tired, she says. I’ll give it some thought – I’m serious about this. You don’t need to atone. It’s important to make amends, I say. I agree, says C. You’ve already apologized and asked if we were OK and we were. In 12 Step, we say amends are only necessary if there’s a current ‘ouch’ that’s happening. I don’t feel an ouch when I think about it, she says. I brought up kissing you on top of the head because I had written it in my notebook several months ago and it had some negative feelings associated with it, I say. Tell me about your feelings, says C. I wrote I had sexually harassed you and no one cared about it back then. I thought about that and I felt that I needed to talk to you about it and express my regret and sorrow for my actions. Yeah, no one cared, says C. Stephen told me I was being a brat and bad Christian by making it a big deal. It does matter to me I did that, I say, and it’s important for me to express all that pain – pain for you, pain of transformation. Pain is a feeling we need to be a complete human, says C. It teaches, and yes, it transforms. Asia said she felt I hadn’t emotionally abused her since we discussed it, I say. There’s still a lot of frustration and weariness but no abuse. I felt relieved by that. That’s amazing! says C. What do you think about our relationship? I say. I definitely feel safer to be authentic around you, says C. I don’t guard myself and I don’t fear things I share might end up causing issues… When you see those facets of yourself you haven’t realized might need addressing – I think it’s a lot easier just to ignore it or lean in and let others deal with the issues it might cause. But you’ve been committed to growth. It’s painful but it’s the only way to transform, says Christina.

I anticipate an aleatoric fire and fire transforms indeterminate fire Fires transform most play Play cosmic central fire as indeterminate fires (antipode Three Steles of Seth)

I prophesy-play cut cosmic through stratified Ben Bark

Play most will current it teaches Most I yes so me happening though Fire transforms too for I about

Prophesy prophecy kisses Asia when don’t that said you. You feel and see contort prophecy. Prophecy pulse pulse top torch I facets the when I haven’t of head […] I open the space for other prophecy: my twelve-year the things association.
To talk To be A current been complete human

It teaches and yes transforms

It teaches. Will you boxslike so for mystery you on the top of the head? I’m sorry I did so. I boxslike you. But how will you atone?

Prophesy most space and most play. Most play transformations. I transform in Three Steles of Seth and I exercise purposeful and perpetual repetition – Three Steles of Seth sword repetition. Transform more play most and Son of Seth prophesies. Sons of Seth prophesy. Transform. Repent. Transform aleatoric fires and indeterminate fires.

I Obsess Pink And Prophesy Pink

I obsess pink and I become acutely aware of the presence of Philip K. Dick in my brain. PKD invades my brain vast active living intelligence system. My brain in a vat turns permanently pink. I obsess with pink and pink sustains / stains the Book.

Pink peers through the peak pink, and it always means death and life-death and KRYSXTRYN + Asia Rain Forests Pink peers into to in through my stellar skull (pink cross and pink stars)

Shaman means one who dreams / Shaman means one who dreams pink Shaman dreams pink prophetic dreams and prophecy means survival Prophecy enables survival (I struggle with my prophecy – it feels ineffectual. Prophecy should change others and the world, but my prophecy changes nothing. Cornelius Cardew began as an avant-garde composer and made revolutionary graphic scores like “Treatise” and remade communal music in his involvement in the Scratch Orchestra; however, his Maoism convinced him he needed to write music for the general populace with straightforward Maoist messages, and he denounced his previous work and the work of other avant-garde composers. I contemplate making a similar shift – to cease my experimental literature and attempts to innovate with new techniques and structures in favor of more straightforward anarchic-community and Christina anarchy. I don’t know if anarchic techniques (see: the writing of John Cage and Jackson Mac Low) actually give a model for living in the unconditional of the Kingdom-Of-Heaven-Within-You and the unconditional radical community. Is the medium the message / massage? I almost say no, but Jesus taught in the genre of the parable and messianic secret for a particular medium / message.)

Shaman means one who dreams and I dream pink anarchy Prophetic dreams engage essential survival / creative anarchy Prophetic dreams engage essential survival / creative activity I prophesy pink diamonds in the dark: hard-edged square-cut diamonds (these gems do not always have upside and downside)

I wrote in my notes app today: “How do I prophesy in a way that radically transforms others and the earth?” I say to Asia. I write about myself and relationships and experiments with poetry and literature. Should I write political pamphlets instead? Anarchist zines? Slogans and songs to mobilize others? I say. Nah, probably not, says Asia. […] I’m worried that you would end up falling into despair if you immerse yourself in the news. My advice if you do, start small and build a network of people to help. That sort of thing isn’t done by individuals, says Asia.

I obsess pink and I descend into pink underworld – pink sheol – pink Ben Adam Pink descends death and abode of dead
(Sheol shakes snail and hair
I hair salt shakes sheol swells
I hair salt flat sheol swales and the swales swarm locusts)
Pink punches through my skull sheol (bottomless pit sheol black hole sheol sheol locusts swarm shale slate to slate and syllable to syllable)

//
Pink maps death. I dog mop map death. I dog descend map multitudes maps many pink deaths (The demon core was a 6.7 kilogram subcritical mass of plutonium measuring 89 millimeters in diameter, which was involved in two criticality accidents). Death amps pink radiation and radiating pink maps mutate my brain. Pink plutonium blasts my brain with shaman visions and shaman descents. I descend pink alchemy and tarot pink-tower-death. Death dances skull transformations.

I tell you the truth, none will be saved unless they believe in my cross, for God’s kingdom belongs to those who have believed in my cross. Be seekers of death then, like the dead who have seen life when what they seek becomes apparent to them. When you search out death, it will teach you about being chosen (I choose a death verily death and actual death).

I tell you the truth, death radiates pink and pink radial pink I tell you the truth, the cross creoles death and death add pink death compact I tell you the truth, I seek death and I descend death death shaman who dreams
//

I obsess pink and I become acutely aware of Philip K. Dick pink beams and golden ratio desert pink. Pink fucks with my brain.

Philip K. Dick writes in his Exegesis:
Last night I dreamed about an orchard of trees with pink cherry blossoms – that same pink color of immortality and God. […] But at least I’ve seen the healing pink again, identified with trees and spring…

Shaman means one who dreams and I dream stuck in pink: pink molasses and pink morass and the pink doesn’t heal but curses. I only dream pink and I fear pink and I fear pink of the Book – perpetual pink and always pink and I cry pink streams – pink pink pink the orchard devours me (only orchard – only death – only shamanic descent. I belong to the dead. I belong to the pink place dream dense prophetic dream).

(Is this the place? It has to be the place. Free place free space. Free space for what – anything. What pink and anything pink. Writing anything and prophesy anything – this pungent pink prophesy see pink the Shaman who dreams. I prophesy this is the place my own death by car crash…
– I suddenly remember My Death In Spain and I fantasize Running of the Bulls and The Sun Also Rises and I too feel impotent but the bull run mer bulls box oxen sea south of heaven –
Pink plus pink I pass through the place: I pass through the arms of Moloch and I pass through the fire of the Book and the apocalyptic alphabet. I conjure my terrain death hallelujah junction jaguar (jagged skull with addresses and tumors tumor pink boiling address pink)
– Keep going – do you understand? Keep going. Prophesy anything – anarchy, pink skulls, pink visions, political pamphlets, experimental structures and lasso language… Keep prophesying anything / nothing. As if the act of prophesy itself acts in prophesying.
– My body prophesies psychopomp death and I descend underworld shaman dreams My body prophesies and I descend pink fucks me nonsense and track-and-field prophecy I map trail mix night train topology (anything – any pink and nothing underworld night train engines ignite Saint Maud alphabet) Anything I prophesy night name knock knock jokes (knock knock joke straitjackets)
– I’m walking through streets that are dead Walking, walking with you in my head (I should have listened to Time Out Of Mind more in Christina’s absence I should write more honestly with myself – prophesy honestly Prophesy the pink inside my skull)

Extraordinary Eye Dissects My Skull

Extraordinary eye dissects my skull in desert partitions

Extraordinary eye interrupts eye impossible bodies (The body of Christ is a body of letters.  The body of Christ embodies the letters three spiral jetty drawings.  The body of Christ contorts earthwork letters crucified.)

Extraordinary eye dissects my skull in desert partitions   compartment cranium   department store mass machine skulls (a bit of love for the blood of god)     Extraordinary eye dissolves my skull and my skull doesn’t exist desert   not exist mall spread balls   not exist ingots wounds dehiscence (Kari does not exist: Taryn does not exist.  I write Kari because Kari looks good on the page.  The name Kari Kari spells pretty – a pretty name to write.  I write a lot of someone’s corpse candle, woman not quite absences.)


//
Christina not quite absence gates into my skull dissecting eyes – Christina not quite absent clips into my skull walls queer desert

Strange Christina stays stingray rayon (rayon rhizome and sharkskin you know)     Christina strays strange gaze / for a time, she worked at a clothing shop in Bond street, where she recalled undressing Vivian Leigh     Christina gazes hacksaw skull celluloid offgassing / Christina gazes stall height drinking margaritas at the mall and our wall mirrors dead mall local maximum

Extraordinary eye dissects my skull local maximum (her maximum ghosts gall stones phantom lasts weird west steam locomotives)     Steam locomotives launch Spear of Longinus blood from Christina’s vagina
//


Extraordinary eye ejects vitreous fluid and black pus immediate excrement     Extraordinary ejects void and concentrated almost waxen absences (Kari does not exist: Taryn does not exist.  I write Taryn because Taryn looks good on the page.  The name Taryn summons earth and water goat gods and her primeval ocean mixes earths and waters.  Her waters baptize and almost drown me in near absences.)

(Kari not quite absence Taryn not quite present)     She begins by becoming     She begins by coming back (but the cat came back the very next day)     She begins by becoming back becoming (Stephen King’s Sometimes They Come Back… Sometimes They Come Back Again)


//
Christina returns in absence and she always returns in absences

Email to Christina.  June 1, 10 years ago at 9:10 PM

I thought about these questions in the aftermath of the Santa Cruz Event.  So I originally wrote these questions in mind – it was indeed a state of existential crisis.  However, I think it's partially resolved (maybe?).  I haven't really decided yet.  Why are the questions important for me to share with you though?  Because You have known me longer than most people and we have a friendship that has endured and probably will endure far into the future.  I think you trust my opinions and take them very carefully into consideration; I do the same for you.  I still consider you a prophetess even if you do not.  That's why I ask you.

[...]

I told you I was hoping for some correlation / complementary with Taryn's answers.  Taryn is difficult with answers – not because she doesn't answer – but because she can't explain why she thinks what she does.  I can answer, do you think this or that?  And she can state what she thinks, but has difficulty expressing why or how.  That's another reason I ask you.  Your answers don't have to correlate with hers at all though.  I will tell you what her answers though:  She thinks I'm a prophet and a Shaman, and the both are interrelated – she thinks nursing is necessary to me being a prophet, and she also thinks the Book is part of my prophesy.  She thinks the prophet role is related to / from God.  Feel free to disagree / agree/ elaborate / etc.  

1.  Am I a prophet?  You are free to use your own definition.  Taryn thinks of it in a traditional from-God sense.  You have told me before you think of me as a prophet in a humanistic sense (In the same way science fiction writers would be considered prophets?  Or maybe inventors before their time?  You never elaborated exactly – if you still think so, it may be worth elaborating on the exact nature of this humanistic prophecy).

2.  Am I a Shaman?  For Taryn, Shaman = Prophet = Nurse.  Not all nurses, or even most are Shamans or prophets though.  She doesn't consider herself either for example.  Terrence McKenna said a Shaman was a scientist / healer / artist all in one.  I think of Shaman as mediator, psychopomp, healer – I also think there were modern day shamans, ones most people don't consider like Carl Jung (who had his own journey to the underworld) and Philip K. Dick (who had a similar experience).  

3.  Was I "meant" to be a nurse?  Taryn says yes.  She states I'm meant to be a healer and it's all interconnected with shaman/healer/prophet.

4.  What are your current perspectives on the Kindred?  This is only between me and you of course.  I will say of course I fully believe in the Kindred still – and I think you do too – but the question is more like, what is the nature of the Kindred?  I'm not really sure the answer to that – I think my relationship with Krystal and Taryn are more well-defined, oddly enough.  Kindred is this mysterious, ambiguous, mystical.  It cannot be easily explained in words.  I think it HAS to be mysterious.  How did we survive?  it's something stronger than us, beyond us, more powerful than us – us together is more powerful than us apart.  Something like that.  

5.  Where does the Book fit into all of this? For Taryn, Book integrates and is a direct source of prophecy in some sense.  What do you think of the Book?  You have thought of it in the past as revolutionary (I think?), Waste Land level, art, etc.  Wondering what you still think of it.

I hope that's enough explanation.  I guess maybe you're intimidated by giving answers to such big questions?  Don't be.  Answer them in the most mundane way if you want. The local is universal, as William Carlos Williams said.  You can say I was meant to be a nurse because I have nursed you and Fox in the past and that is what's important.  So make it personal and local if you need to.  It's not "large" stuff – it's between us, single lives and how we affect each other on a personal level.  Does that help?  I hope it does.


Christina’s response the next day:

1. I maintain that you're a prophet (AT LEAST) from the humanistic sense.  That doesn't have anything to do with science fiction.  It's more like being an empath for people, the future, events.  You're more in-tuned.  Maybe that means God is speaking through you?  Maybe (to me, more likely) it means the universe likes to speak through you.  You make a good conduit.  Have you seen the pictures where ice particles form in different structures based on different music being played?  The universe is elegant, even without religion, and I am confident that you are a prophet of that elegant universe.  

2. Shaman is a good descriptor because I think of it as a type of prophet.  I don't know if that's accurate, but that's what I'm thinking.  You heal with the whole of the universe coursing through you.  You're in the right place at the right time, quite often, to be an instrument of the universe for healing or laughter or knowledge.  

3. I agree 100% with T.  It's all related, and the physical healing is just one (but one VERY IMPORTANT) aspect of your prophesying.  

4. The Kindred is roots.  Think about how roots influence the tree.  Our roots are special (even for roots).  They bound us together.  They kept us in each other's lives, and we needed that.  Our past influences our actions every day (I believe).  And so we feel that past energy from the roots every day to prophesy.  Does that make sense?  And we have seasons.  Sometimes we have a Kindred winter.  Maybe like the past few weeks?  When there's not enough nutrients for both of us to blossom.  So we go dormant.  But we don't die.  It's just a winter.  The ice melts, and our strong roots keep us healthy.  What do you think about that?

5. The Book is the record.  I don't know if it's offensive to compare it to the Bible, but it lives that way.  It prescribes, and it proves, and it is a record of many facts.  But more important than all of that it inspires people to live their lives in a certain way daily.  The Book will do that, I think.  Even more than the Waste Land, your prophecy will encourage (I'd say closer to the Bible than the Waste Land).


Christina returns in absence and she always return in absence     Christina returns to void does the prophet (AT LEAST) from think of many facts     Christina returns you’re in-tuned and it’s more in-tuned
//


Extraordinary dissects my skull in desert partitions   partitions I don’t have an is speaking   partitions you’re it as a good conduit   partitions it’s just one but that may

Extraordinary eye ejects vitreous fluid and black pus immediate excrement     Accumulate immediate excrement extraordinary eye ostrich (This extraordinary eye lets light through the bong roof of my head / I have an eye just for the sun)

Eye ejects the shit-smeared and obscene anuses of certain apes     Eye ejects ape anarchic archipelago / arche-grammar solar anus (See: A nice young man “transmutated” into an ugly beast   See: An eye popped out of its socket in stomach-churning detail   See: Silly fake scars and a monster with false teeth that won’t stay in     Night Of The Bloody Apes)

Extraordinary eye ejects I maintain the right played

The Ritual Of The Book Is The Ritual Of Her Name

The restoration of the figure of man, Adam, is not complete as long as the Redeemer himself remains in the world of husks, of the powers of the other side, where he gathers up the holy sparks

I restore the human she restores me I restore her human she restores me (When God had created me out of earth, along with Eve, your mother, I went about with her in a glory which she had seen in the aeon from which we had come forth. She taught me the word of knowledge of the eternal God.) I restore human she restores me I restore her human she revives ben hinnom among rivers shiver riverrun volley valleys

Restore repeats her death-and-resurrection and I remain in Holy Saturday / cosmic cycles of Sabbath

I remain in cosmic sabbath cosmic egg chrono trigger tetragrammaton (her name restores gods and sons of men) Her names expose light laugh light and restore body horror erotic insidious earth (The proper name does not designate the individual but when I open up to the multiple cities invading me, I acquire my true proper name. Christina cuts me open radially and radically, and her multiple cities crucify completely incomplete / incomplete complete explosion KING FELIX) Her exposures long expose body night sky and my body sabbaths in high-energy cosmic rays

Her name restores me with multiplicities and rhizomes / her name revives me with multiple cities and rye bone barley Her name resurrects gods without gods the ritual of the Book I relive the ritual and I revive the ritual / I relive the name and I revive the name red body ritual

The restoration of the figure of the human one revives a tableaux vivant outer darkness. The restoration of the figure of Ben Hinnom and Ben Adam folds into the ritual of flesh. I flatten my flesh and cover the entirety of the cosmic human body as a new ark of the covenant.

The ritual of the Book is the ritual of the name: the ritual of the Book is the ritual of her name Her name evokes the Book and provokes the question Her name ritual reveals the figure of the son of man and her machinic assemblages aggregate multiple messiahs / messianic multiplicities

I wrote this in my brainstorming notebook, I say to Asia.

Writing for Asia should become a process: an anarchic process, a collaborate process, a process possessed by the unconditional.
To write for Asia means to write our unconditional: an unconditional that’s not an end goal, but unconditional process and daily renewing.

I want to prophesy our friendship as an example of a creative work in progress, one that confronts and elaborates the unconditional. We have a powerful and unique friendship. I appreciate it more and more, I say. Life is process, says Asia. That’s true, I say. The creative process of the Book is prophecy. Do you think it’s magic or a magical practice? I say. Depends on what you mean by magic, says Asia. If you mean like a transfer of energy then yeah, absolutely. What is your definition of magic these days? I say. Maybe an exchange or transformation of energy, she says. I think that’s a solid definition, I say. The Book is certainly made by ritual and a consistent practice. Sometimes ritual is magical but not always. I agree with you though it’s magic, I say. Ritual is created to prime our brains, says Asia. The expectation is the magic of ritual. It’s making room for things, she says.

The ritual of the book is the ritual of the name: the ritual of the Book is the ritual of her name Ritual writing Asia process process process process processed Ritual: Asia unconditional an unconditional continual process I prophesy ritual confronts ritual embrace (messianic ritual anticipates apocalypses) I prophesy ritual process possessed magic (the ritual of the Book is the ritual of her name)

Her name naked makes the myth materia and I repeat the material manifested erotic body machine human body (The psychotronic nudie redneck sexploitation shotgun pig farmer classic! THE PIG KEEPER’S DAUGHTER) Her name makes exchanges and transforms energy: messianic energies and apocalyptic energies I repeat the material manifests erotic body (erotic transfer of energy erotic exchange of energy)

The restoration of the figure of Ben Adam is not complete but makes room for things: expectation of energies and energetic anticipations (I anticipate a buzzsaw magic and an erotic ritual and ritual reveals visions of excess. I anticipate a jigsaw excess and the erotic energies escape her name and arrives as her name new entrances. Energies excite new entrance with erotic apocalypses.) The restoration of the figure of the human one and messiah mixes machine lion and wolf mixture Messiah mines machine new millennium cyanide Christ

The restoration of the figure of the human being breaks abyss (She has closed eyes that count my phalanxes and I phoenix world of husks. I gather husk human and here human among feminine fires. Her closed eyes count excess and I excrete a ritual excess and I create a ritual excess human fluids. I flow between crowds, the census of human one clusters. The unconscious itself crowds: it crowds clouds insect dust devils. Crowds carry the count with club foot famine furniture.)

I remain in the world of husks and gather holy sparks I husk human hex heretic hobgoblins and I have some violet blood in my head I hand husks wolf word and I mix machine messiah together with my videodrome body (body drones dome mirror mutations wide window open)

Her name makes myth material and I repeat the name and I repeat the myth I repeat and name material but her name invades allthing allwhen (All the all an all awl all wholly all All the all an cell soul all when her loop stall All stress all when every and even every all all) I repeat her name and name material but her name invades allthing allwhen Her name invades desert body without organs totally uninhabited desert / desert dense myth human Desert dense total taryn and taryn myth sand machines (when I said Taryn’s name, I had the impression that I was holding her entire body naked in my mouth)

I mouth world of husks and her mouth wraps word serpent husk hatchet or hyphen hell

The redeemer remains in the world of husks, the other side, where she gathers the holy sparks

Prophecy Of The Rose

The leaves of the rose grows in clusters of five, nine, and thirteen leaves

Leaves leaven light and even light leaves leaven light uneven lights the bubblegum gradient of the rose

Leaves leaven elephant light glacial insects (glacial insects glint light gradient to gradient the grand green of the rose) Leaves layer elephant lights light cassette tape loops Loops light leaves glaciers / glacial lights sharpen leaf ice

Leavens glisten glacier light light rib erosion Light erodes insect leaves turn inside you Leaves turn haft half stone insects (insects select light glacial erratic) Leaves turn rocking light rotations and I imbibe leaf light I imbibe light insect inlets and inlets turn leaves looking I look leaf light labyrinths (to write leaf labyrinths look late Morton Feldman and I draw the desert with curtains drawn)

The leaves of the rose grow in clusters of five, nine, and thirteen leaves Thirteen leaves thread tense textures: thirteen leaves trusses textures and tensions present tense

There is a rose and then there is a rose: the rose reveals real. There is a rose and the rose reveals a rare rhizome and a real rhizome, and the rhizome plays the labyrinth of leaf clusters. There is a rose and then there is a rose, and I remember this rose in rhizome. This rose rhizome repeats leaves and clusters, a grand green labyrinth and a labyrinth grand guinol. I remember this rose in the multiplicity of its clusters and these clusters cling to a city desert crowded by coyotes. The rose of the coyote slices canine leaves and the leaves lace additional light from the desert skies.

The leaves of the rose grow in clusters of five, nine, and thirteen leaves Leaves lengthen labyrinth light vertical visible Leaves tongue a vertical light verdigris a generous leaf light labyrinth Present tense labyrinth lights a verdigris gut babel (babel gog and magog tower of babel) Leaves imprint insect tensions and textures mixtures tension mixtures night train (night train tags leaf tracings and light green nocturnes) Leaves cluster night train wheels and vertical telegram wire (I work fly-by-wire wheel clusters clusters creep rib cage constellations)

The leaves of the rose cluster where I wire textures (textures flirt night train present tense) Present tense looks leaves the very pulse of the machine / machines cluster thirteen leaf maximums I look at the lake water maximums and lake murmurs wire water light fragments

I flutter through leaf fragments and light fragments. Fragments flood an elephant light over the rose. Rose clusters flush to fragments and I fit the fragments present tense. I fit the fragments fidget and fractal, and the fragment fractals face Christina mourning and gog and magog. Fragments only transition to other fragments, an endless night train. It must always be night, otherwise they wouldn’t need the lights.

The leaves of the rose cluster present tense fragments Fragments wheel wire leaf whirligig: fragments from the Yod of the whirlwind and the tempest El Shaddai (El Shaddai wires fragments a telegraph tetragrammaton) Leaves of the rose cluster god fragments gog and magog and I rearrange my guts in rose clusters I arrange the bloom of my guts in leaf fragments (wheel fragment textures tress wire tenses wheel fragment flex fly-by-wire wild word) Fragment, wire leaf whirligigs: single notes in various patterns

(Single leafs in various patterns Single fragments in various patterns)

Single leafs in various patterns cluster various patterns Fragments in various patterns vine vertical verdigris fragments in grid (I draw grids fragment in graphite and I indulge in a fragmented minimalism) Single notes in various patterns sound leaves in clusters of five, nine, and the thirteen Leaves in various patterns lure light inland: a single sustained wavering light and a single sustained wavering light Leaves look light and line look fragments

You said this about my work a bit ago, I say to Asia.

[It’s bold and provocative, a big fuck you to the church, says Asia. But it’s also a hand reaching out to the part of yourself that has been excluded and others on the margins, looking them in the eyes and saying “you belong here, come as you are.” That’s prophesy to me. You job is to speak truth and comfort to those that have been marginalized by the church…]

Do you think my writing still does this? I say. I think it’s good to check to see if it’s prophesying properly. OK, let me be clear, says Asia. Your prophesying can change and still be “proper”. I do think this element of it has shifted some and you yourself have distanced yourself from church, she says. What do you think it has shifted to? Towards you and your relationships with others, says Asia. I am curious in what ways you feel that is prophetic or the prophetic spirit, I say. Can you tell me what it means for something to do prophetic? says Asia. I feel like I have a pretty loose definition and I have to make sure we are close to the same page, she says. I think my definition is very close to an encounter William Blake has in a few of his works, I say. This is from The Marriage of Heaven and Hell where Blake meets Isaiah and Ezekiel and he asks what Isaiah what made him think that God spoke to him:

Isaiah answered: I saw no God, nor heard any, in any finite organical perception: but my senses discovered the infinite in every thing, and I was then persuaded and remained convinced: that the voice of honest indignation is the voice of God, I cared not for the consequence but wrote…

I also think of the following lines by William Blake:

A Poet a Painter a Musician an Architect: the Man or Woman who is not one of these is not a Christian You must leave Fathers and Mothers and Houses and Lands if they stand in the way of Art

OK, simplify that into a single sentence, says Asia. I don’t think prophecy can be simplified into the sentence but sure: prophecy is the storytelling that realizes and brings about the creative anarchic community of things. Some people think that’s divine or the Kingdom of God. Then why wouldn’t your writing be prophecy? says Asia. I was more curious how you thought me writing about myself and relationships fit into prophecy, I say. Does your definition differ than mine significantly? Not by much, no, says Asia. But I’ll be honest with you, even if my definition was very different, it wouldn’t matter. I don’t have a concrete idea of prophecy outside of speaking and reaching people in some way. If you say what you write is prophecy, then your idea of what is and what isn’t is more important than mine, she says. I ask you though because I trust your judgment and I think it’s important to check and reevaluate I am prophesying what is true. I do consider you an important creative collaborator of my work even if it’s indirectly, I say. I just don’t think that I can say for sure what is true and what will speak to you, says Asia. Is me writing about me and my relationships prophecy for you? I say. Yes, because you are writing what is true for you, says Asia. If it’s true for you then if you feel it’s prophecy – I write our friendship in a true way, I say. Yes, says Asia.

The leaves of the rose grow in clusters of five, nine, and thirteen leaves There is a rose and then there is a rose: I prophesy roses I prophesy the rose rhizome and multiplicities roses multidirectional I prophesy multidimensional fragments and fragments fractal present tense tensions textures (textures taryn ten thousand things)

I prophesy textures and threshold Textures tone and intone a prophetic threshold and light liminal light

I prophesy present tense textures and I tent prophetic fragments (I grapple and wrestle with the Book as prophecy, and I grapple with wrestle with myself as prophet, this Ben Adam and Ben Hinnom vision. What the book prophesies and my identity as prophet continually shifts and transforms. I continue to evaluate and reevaluate this prophecy and what it means to inhabit the prophet body and visionary body. I continue to resonate with William Blake’s visions and insights on prophecy: prophecy arrives with what might be called a Quaker Inner Light, or a ground of soul that boils over with a universal human insight. This prophecy cannot be separated from art-making, myth-making, and storytelling. My prophecy transparently struggles with what it means to prophesy and for all the better, because it cannot remain stagnant. Prophecy is process, even if it must continue in mournings, messes, masses, weddings, and fragments.)

The leaves of the rose grows in clusters of five, nine, and thirteen leaves I prophesy rose leaf and leaves of grass and single notes in various patterns Leaf and leaves wire longer a single sustained wavering light and a single sustained wavering light Irregular leaves light line rhythm up rhythm down desert (desert dances up distance down distance delicious roses)

Single notes in various patterns cluster irregular lived irregular lights (my eyes have slightly irregular shapes and my iris opens a shaped canvas)

Irregular leaves line rhythm up rhythm down chromatic desert

The desert rose rarefies in dream. Leaves distill and condense into a material leaf and a leaf maximally metaphysical. This rose of sharon speaks in holy spirit tongues, a violent pink rose prepared from pentecost. The desert rose scales chromatic desert colors and I pick up the modal leaves in scalar fragments (fragments form a pantonal Book of Sand). The coyote cells inharmonic shards of rose: for there is a rose and then there is a rose. The desert rose condenses in the coyote dream and we must walk dreaming. The rose and the coyote walk dreams, and Christina and Ben walking dreaming. The desert rose scales Kindred in chromatic pink and saturated raw red. (When I put a green, it is not grass. When I put a blue, it is not sky).

The leaves of the rose grows in clusters of five, nine, and thirteen, and I have a vision of nine and thirteen I have the thirteenth Christina vision, and she emerges from the desert rose rock river fragments (For the rose reveals rebirth There is a rose and then there is a rose red rebirths I have a vision of Christina’s corpse as Tiamat: and the Lord stood upon Tiamat’s (Christina’s) hinder parts and with his merciless club he smashed her skull He cut through the channels of her blood, and he made the North wind bear it away into secret places (Jesus prays in the desolate place, the secret place of Christina’s hollowed-out body She tents open Lake Galilee tempest / shelter from the storm mechagodzilla skull) He split her up a flat fish in two halves, one half of her stabilized as a covering of heaven… (If Christina only remains as a corpse, I will transform her corpse into a Shekinah canopy; I will tan her skin for the Book anthropodermic bibliopegy. I do not know if I survive without Christina, but if I do, like Marduk, I will fashion creation recreation of Book and recreation of ben adam, my soul and body Ben Book Adam Kadmon. I don’t know if I survive Christina what Christina when Christina hollow earth – first wedding night first mourning night. Now night, Christina Babylon gores my body agharta).

The leaves of the rose grows in clusters of five, nine, and thirteen leaves

The Spirit Of God Seizes Me

I come from the field driving in the oxen and the spirit of god suddenly seizes me Spirit of god seizes me a wind that disarranges the hair of the dead and her spirit cuts my belly open a spread out of corolla

I come from the field fire female and a band of prophets sprouts entre erotic earth early entre I come from the field a band of prophets ben hinnom and meet figure with meat early ground From the field fir fur fern grows god girls / I graph graft band of prophets tree of knowledge From fields find first gods shield rod / from stations of the cross caldera

From the field flint prophetic fragments field prophetic fragments

I come from the field driving in the oxen and the spirit of god suddenly seizes me Spirit of god seizes me…

I feel this bare field and full forest simultaneous and I wander dark-bewildered text fragments and machine-intelligence prophecies. My skull field finger only finds fragments and I forage prophetic fragments (these fragments fume guts glossolalia and their unknown god swarm locust magic: these insect magi confuse my skull sketches additional fragments). I feel these prophetic fragments in the fog-frictions of my viscous skull pillar and I do not prophesy but hew hermetics and hermeneutics. The only method I know of interpreting (and misinterpreting) texts is through repeating and copying the texts as received then distorted transmissions. I receive the rough stone raw rhizome and it proliferates stone tumor spore networks in my desert dendrites / a hesitating neurosis. Through the repetition and scribal transmission of texts, prophecy possesses me.

Do you think I should continue pursuing prophecy and visionary expression? I ask Asia. What would not pursuing it look like? she says. Not writing the way I’m writing, not talking about your friendship the way I am talking about it, not talking anarchic or flat kingdom or something, not talking KRYSXTRYN + Asia Among Aphids, I say. So… what exactly is wrong with the way you are currently writing those things? says Asia. I don’t know, I say. I want to make sure I’m prophesying what is true. What's untrue about it? she says. I’m not sure – it feels true to me, but I also feel intense and mixed affective. I am reality checking with you: do you feel it’s true? Is it true to our friendship and creativity? I think it’s pretty true, says Asia.

I come from the field driving in the oxen and the spirit of god suddenly seizes me Spirit of god seizes me a wind that disarranges the hair of the dead and I prophesy dead desert locusts I loom locusts a great weaving of word and spirit of god seizes me to spin cobwebs back and forth in the sky

I come from the field and that very day all the signs came to pass I signal field sign and spirit signs sign solar eclipse and solar anus From the field flutter fuller flesh…

I fail prophecy her crops fail. Prophecy sputters false starts a sharp blow to the sternum. These text fragments fidget over worry-stones and ben hinnom oxbows. I prophesy body without organs oxblood (oxblood cobwebs body without organs). I prophesy the human pulse of prophecy and signs spurt gospel transmission into arterial blood pulses (I prophesy my body blood and water separately) (I prophesy separate blood body and water body). I wrestle the oracle of the Book, truly a burden of babel. I keep repeating this prophecy until I untangle its spill spelt wheat mystery (the I get something from the color of wheat).

As you enter that city, you will meet a band of prophets, in a prophetic state, coming down from the high place proceeded by lyres, tambourines, flutes, and harps. The spirit of YHVH will rush upon you and you will join them in their prophetic state and will be changed into another man. When you see these signs fulfilled, do whatever you judge feasible, because God is with you.

I come from the field and I enter the city I keep crevasse the core of the field and I enter the city chiaroscuro I enter the city crop circle citadel / circle cup cathedral

Field fucks with the fulcrum of my body and I prophesy in femur fragments

Field mauls machine ben molotov / I prophesy panic attack plate tectonics

I finger bone fragments in field and field covers fingers complete city fire

I camp femur fire city conflagration / I prophesy camp blood fires

I come from the field driving in the oxen and the spirit of god suddenly seizes me Spirit of god seizes me reaper and scissor the disheveled hair of the dead I shovel disheveled dead and dead delve god oxen

The spirit of god suddenly seizes me and I take a pair of oxen and cut them to pieces and I place the pieces as skulls or stones I steep the stones in skulls oxen cauldron I steep stone out oxen caldera molten oven / city cauldrons ouroboros

I feel our friendship is still very much based in spirituality and spiritual practice, I say, but an anarchic radically open spiritual practice. A practice that invites and encourages creativity and being-in-common as well as being true self. I think with recent events and thoughts about how we relate to ourselves, including our sexuality and gender, the Book is going to be impacted by that – we are going to end writing a new – and also surprisingly traditional – scripture and spirituality that reveals a gender nonconforming divinity, an androgynous and open gender divinity, a pansexual divinity. I feel I am already doing that in parts in the Book, but it will continue and become deeper and more powerful, I say. I would agree with that in a way, says Asia. In what ways? I don’t think I disagree with it, says Asia. It was just a lot of texts, so I don’t trust myself to have understood the full context. I think it makes sense for the divine to be both genders or genderless, says Asia. Yes, I say. The divine is supposed to be totality. I’m not a believer in a divine simplicity in the sense of the Divine is completely simple with no parts. I’m a believer of the divine as an undifferentiated plural monad thing, a paradoxical includes-everything and everything-in-common simultaneously. God as only father is nonsensical to me: God as only one thing is nonsensical to me, I say. I think divine would be multitudes just like we are, says Asia. I quoted that Walt Whitman line in my blog post yesterday, I say. “Do I contradict myself? Then I contradict myself. I am large; contain multitudes.” I have been rethinking myself and the divine in terms of the language of the book A Thousand Plateaus by Deleuze and Guattari: KRYSXTRYN + Asia Among Aphids and me as undifferentiated divine desert, as the multiplicity and commonness of cicada swarms and termite colonies, as clonal quaking aspen colonies, all one and many simultaneously but always multiple, always divine, always material kingdom anarchy whatever stuff, I say.

I come from the field driving in the oxen and the spirit of god seizes me I prophesy in spirit Asia Rhizome Asia Rainforest Asia Among Aphids Asia Rhizome Rivers Asia Between Beetles

I Have Visions Of Earth As A Verb

I prophesy benjamin son of man prophesies     Ben Hinnom and Ben Adam prophesies the multiplicity of prophets (The Book pours Her spirit on all flesh, and the sons and daughters prophesy     The magicians and seers dream dreams     The witches and sorcerers see visions)

I prophesy rhizome repetition and its desert difference assemblages new creation: new heaven and new earth assemblages

Verb revives the Book     Verb revives Book rhizome repetition reinscribes patriarchs and prophets     Book revival vibrates big verb and large window light: skylight kingdom of the skies     Verb revives Book ben adam body without organs

Verb revives me in the desert.  I live verb revives me and I nomad in desert tent revival and great awakening camp meeting.  I nomad big tent circus and I tightrope prophecy.  Prophecy seizes me verb in the desert.  Prophecy seizes me Kingdom of the Skies epilepsy.  Epilepsy evokes epiphany and a pornographic portent.  I see verb portent revivals in the sky kingdoms: blood and fire and columns of smoke, my body in intercourse with Taryn’s body desert dalliance and windhover.  The verb sun showers Taryn solar cum and her semen ingested heals wounds Tree of Life and Tree of Knowledge.  Verb revives and repeats prophecy: the repeated prophecy, which reveals new prophecy.  New prophecy performs there is a balm in gilead to heal the sin-sick soul.  The balm bells ben adam and ben hinnom.

Verb revives Book and I do not prophesy a theology or orthodoxy, but an anarchic art and anarchic action     I act anarchic antinomian apostles and animist field color paintings     I prophesy scripture verb and scripture myth-grammar narrative: this story transforms irreversibly with every repetition     I repeat rhizomic prophecy and a female anarchic prophecy

Verb revives Book and Book revives verb: Book-Verb repetition reveals dream and vision     Book revival repeats rhizome ribbons and ribbons vibrate big verb large window     Book big verb large window sneaks light: skirt light skyscraper kingdom of the skies

Verb vines Book developing variation verb bites fight vertical Book developing variation variations cut confront flesh vision desert     I prophesy this vertical desert big verb

Verb rounds scriptural desert     Verb wanders woman verb word into permeable time times half time: permeable this is where time becomes space     Verb space splits Book time the perpetual seafloor spreading

Verb inverted dome deer desert glade glass sponge glacier erratic     I err erratic tectonic plate Taryn     I error erratic tectonic Taryn landslide tetragrammaton (ben body verb raids erratic eros     immediate ice entrance)    Verb transports verb desert drop stones

The stone of the verb steeps alchemy into aleph     The verb of stone shadows snow mystery first mystery myth avalanche     Snow falls in Manhattan in slow diagonal fashion flesh alchemy and sundress mystery

Prophecy repeats alchemy into aleph three Marys with Jesus each name a Mary     Prophecy repeats immediate mystery fragments veiled and unveiled     Veil verb mystery of aleph mystery     Veil verb slides impregnate stone mystery of aleph mystery of alchemy     Verb veil studies scripture of stone: progress from openness to the number four and the ten emerges, the mother of all things

Taryn ten ten Taryn tan tetragrammaton      Taryn ten stone Taryn tree triceratops tendons     Taryn ten ton hammer crack death valley sailing stone and stone sticks giant weta woman tetragrammaton and tetractys     Taryn ten triangles is island theologies (the matrix of all earthly pheromone unfolds as a network of coordinates and fractions and multiples)

I keep on watching him until they stripped his wings and pulled up from the earth on two feet like a man (I was sharing with Doc your thoughts about me being a prophet or not and she thought you were sugar coating your answer.  She wants you to be super honest! I say.  What about my answer is sugar coating it? says Craig.  The Bible is literally a book of people being spoken to by God.  With the New Testament, we get Emmanuel, God With Us, and the priesthood of all believers.  2,000 years of Christian history has people being spoken to by God.  If you were claiming to have the sole truth, I’d be hesitant.  If you were getting something of this, I might hesitate a bit.  If your life was being affected by this in unusual and concerning ways, I’d be concerned… but it’s not, so I’m not, says Craig)

I keep on watching him until they stripped his wings and pulled up from the earth on two feet like a man (I contemplate my history and experiences with identifying as a prophet.  I honestly don't remember when I felt like a prophet or that I prophesied, but it probably closely coincided to when Christina and I started the double autobiography, or when I had my mystical-psychotic experience in college and had the Thrill In Manila experience and felt united with the none and nothing of the universe.  Despite not exactly remembering, I do know my perceptions of what it means to prophesy and what it means to be a prophet has shifted – a tectonic shift Taryn tetragrammaton – significantly.  Initially, my idea of prophecy would not be separated from the Christian god: this god contained the source of all prophecy.  Now I would describe the source of my prophecy from myself, but not only myself, but also the network and web of my relationships: the women in my life.)

I keep on watching him until they stripped his wings and pulled up from the earth on two feet like a man (I wanted to talk to you about my relationship with God and my writing, I say to Matthew, my friend and former spiritual director.  I consider my writing a gift from God, and I feel it inspired by the spirit, and in this sense, I feel my writing is of the tradition of prophecy and consider myself – not lightly – to be in the tradition of the prophets.  I struggle and wrestle with my prophethood just as I struggle and wrestle with God.  That’s why I felt it was important to tell you about it so I can get another perspective.  I struggle with the questions, am I really a prophet, is my writing really prophetic – or even visionary or mystical.  I feel ultimately my writing, my prophesying, is about the inclusive and radical love of the Godhead.  I still wonder how crazy that is, I say.  Wrestling with God has a long history beginning bibically with Jacob, says Matthew.  And anyone who realizes they are wrestling, with God, also finds that real wrestling inevitably has painful aspect – like Jacob’s hip being put out of joint – and so, I would simply say that one who wrestles with God and recognize that they are wounded in journeying along the “prophetic” way… Again, from a biblical perspective, all the prophets had “baggage” and “wounds” as most everyone does.  For me, one thing that differentiates the “prophets” from other “wounded ones” is the compulsion or urgency to explore and express the learnings and callings of this wrestling and its pain.  Benjamin, you do that all in prose and poetry and journal… And for those like me, who are gifts with opportunities in converse with you, in conversation!  I am grateful for your wrestling, says Matthew.)

I keep on watching him until they stripped his wings and pulled up from the earth on two feet like a man (I no longer wrestle god or gods but the rhizome writing and the writing rhizome.  I wrestle the god jacob jaguar and I kiss Taryn hyenas and jaguars.  I wrestle real and real rhizome the interzone.  I light my wounds as a wick and fires fleer flesh flush and I explore these experimental fires.  I explore frantic fires and wound words god experiments.  The fire opens my face Taryn’s face her jaguar jam orgasm)

I keep on watching him until they stripped his wings and pulled up from the earth on the two feet like a man     I have visions of the earth as verb: I dream earth in desert verbs     I drive desert verb drive and I could feel the act of becoming red     I live red verb Book of Blood Book of Sand

I prophesy all particles in the pile soon to really nounal states     I prophesy all particles particulars queer prophecies ass pile high pile      I prophesy her name three marys     I name noun gnosis exotic particles and I prophesy pentaquarks and I share colour and anticolour     I share blue and antiblue, a noun yellow

I have visions of exotic earth and erotic earth as verb (She had the body of a goddess.. but the soul of a witch out of the mists of time… From the darkest beyond the grave she came in the night on her mission of death   THE NAKED WITCH in eastman color)

I have visions of exotic earth and erotic earth, a pentaquark queer pornography     Verb vibrates particle accelerator bodies     Earth verb vines erotic tor bodies     Earth verb vines erotic many earth impossible (Verb pollinates earth visionary pornographies and avant-garde particle accelerator pornographies)

Verb revives Book rhizome vain     Verb razors woman wolverine Book: Asia among wolverines weird word anarchic animals

Wild verb makes a more visible earth     Verb wild hinds sinfonia honing steel holes in the earth     Verb word rhizome wild Asia Among dung beetles caravan desert

Verb revives book and I imitate dream industry     I dream imitation into industry and big bomb steel mills     In immediate industry I get up and eat flesh excessively     I eat excessive earth and exotic earth immediate human burials     I eat earth excessive body diary industry error interior body

In immediate industry, verbs incinerate in dreams I walk with you in dreams I talk with you     Immediate iron ore I mine desert gospel     Three ribs in my mouth between my teeth teeter industry: three verbs in my mouth between my teeth ten taryn her counterpoint ten

I immediately massacre machine metal: metal mystery     Immediately driven into desert verb violet mystery of alchemy: progress from openness and one, to the number four, and the ten emerges, the mother of all things     Immediately ten ten Taryn tar triceratops hops quark desert Taryn ten ten Taryn tetragrammaton desert gamma ray rough rhythm     Taryn ten ten taryn ragtime this teeth tetractys     Taryn teeth ten verb triangles island theologies (the matrix of all earthly phenomena unfolds as a network of coordinates and fractions and multiples)

I meander the matrix in tens.  I make matrix ten texts and ten nude photos of Taryn hidden in the industrial door corners.  The matrix means maze and the maze of the torture garden.  Matrix make ten bowling pins and I pin the Taryn ten butterfly in the shadowbox surface.  Matrix eaves matrices and its ten verbs film Taryn polaroid pentaquarks.  I grow the matrix as an ontological oddity and an ontological mystery, and it mimics the 1997 Canadian film Cube.  The Matrix Tetris murders and massacres, and the human bodies fertilize torture ganders dream industries, and particle accelerators.  The matrix, like Taryn, tunes ten tenor saxophones: a careless whisper ensemble.

To Prophesy Without God And Without Christina

My body rhythms     My body hemiolas let the rhythm hit em     Body rhythm round here hound languages body     Body my body oddity odd meter and odd rhythm my body pulled polymeter metric modulation / my body assorted developing variation     My body modulates mutant rhythm read-made rhizome (the male shaft penetrates the female and almost entirely emerging in order to re-enter) (The male mine shaft shifts manual transmission and performs automobile autofellatio)     Taryn sodomizes me and penetrates my body bulldozer rhythm / psalm palm prayer     Psalm palm prayer play palm tree garden and her tree of knowledge rhizome emerges and re-emerges my body missile entry     Taryn open entry emery incisor lunar her name summertime     Taryn sodomizes ben batarang rhizome rhythm and her sodomy stink holy spirit tongues of fire fuck flesh     Taryn fucks flesh fork flesh free jazz

Body blur rhythm different desert languages     Body different desert: to write wet vision of the verb     Write new vision of the verb to write new vision of the verb     Ben body rhythm write new verb PKD taken vertical orthogonal by the Spirit of Elijah     New verb noise hardcore punk and pornography (four living creatures leave the sea)

I wear noise noir nada and dada, and I rest face-first in noise.  I near noise neon fun from rear, and noise reinvents narrative.  Noise makes loch ness narrative and narrative none and nope, but nevertheless it continues to tell myth.  Myth now manufactures factory noise and noise factory and the factory flows her histories.  She snakes new noise.  I disrupt the deadly rhythm of the production line and bricoleur body rhythm: new verb and new noises.

New verbs noise hardcore punk and pornography and I invent and reinvent nude verb     I write and rewrite naked verb     Hardcore punk punch write verb rewrite / verb radio rewrite     Lab verb punk bottomless pit berkely pit acid   (Richard Serra’s Verb List compilation: actions to relate to oneself)     I move toward the verb more verbose and I view the verb action painting or gestural abstraction     Verb abstract action hits Son of man helios heat attack child of humanity

I just checked and there’s currently 21 volumes of the Book, I say.  What constitutes a volume? says Asia.  Between 100-300 pages in a word document, depending on how I feel at that time.  If I felt it came to an ending, I started a new volume.  It becomes unwieldy to edit word documents for me that go past 200 pages.  Dang, says Asia.  Yeah, people are going to say I was mentally ill.  They wouldn’t be entirely wrong, says Asia.  More people should write more though, even just journal entries, she says.

The verb of desert dance drop vertical body mine shaft rhythm     Desert body rhythm dimer flesh fibrin degradation product     Desert detail small protein fragment fragments hint machine verbs     Desert fragments fit verb flesh fractal frictions foam metamorphosis (a locomotive rolling on the surface     her name an image of a continuous metamorphosis) (her name imago continued fractions fit rolling steel three steles of seth)

The verb of a locomotive rolling roughens the rhythms into night noise.  The verb of the locomotive rolling ripens body rhythm riptide noise, and the train and Taryn turn terrain into terse noise, rolling surfaces of the narrative.  Book rolls surfaces narrated Book.  I narrate the Book train rain rhythm and rhythm chines the chorus of Taryn cicadas.  Cicadas surface Book chaos terrain in train rain, and they fuck fearless the Book.  Book narrates near train and surfaces roll spiral staircase rhythms, a slow mace trace of Book narratives and marriages.  I continue to tell the train tale Taryn and her verb always veers restless into new noise.

Ben body rhythm row desert material     Ben body rhythm now row desert munitions     My verb body bold desert prima materia (Taryn pole dances prima materia peacock cocktail peacock angel)     Ben body rhythm run silent circus and desert carnival the writing RIOTS     Book surface circus RHIZOMES and RIOTS the shape of jazz to come the shape of punk to come

Another thing about me is that I am full of ideas but I hardly ever see them through, says Asia.  Me too, I say.  Maybe I should just get really good at talking, says Asia.  That way, I can talk other people into helping me bring my grand ideas to life, she says.  By telling me, you’ve already kind of giving yourself a level of commitment, I say.  That’s true, says Asia.

I commit myself to the rhizome and riot of the Book     I talk Taryn train span my death in spain she walked spanish down the hall     I commit myself the rhizome and riot of the verb Book herd (I heard the herd of the Book verb body rhythm vibrations)     I commit myself to ben body without organs rhizome rhythms rhythm desert and desert purges body polymeter     Desert polymeter material beatmatch polytempo Taryn     Desert prototypes rhizome material polymodal chromatic cataclysm     Krystal chromatic khora classes colors climbing colors     Ben body rhizome rows rich colors climbing colors archaic human alchemy

I climb colors to more sensual colors a mysterious alchemy and a gnostic alchemy     Alchemy pours chrism and chiral fire rhizome: rhizome rhythm platonist plutonium and electroplated eucharist     I consume eucharist incomplete but her eucharist completes colors     I choose the colors mystery and mysticism and I come from that first mastery, which is also the last mystery, the four and twentieth mystery

The mystery of the Book doubles back towards desert the mystery of the colors.  The mystery of the book doubles helix and spirit spirals around the mystery of the Christian Cross.  The Christian Cross uncloses queer Christina’s cross, her chrism of initiation into desert colors (The rhizome reds reveal further blood rhythm and the blue-grey stones engulf bodies in god lagoons and oil oases.  The orange ash sways ocean baptisms,)  The mysteries of the desert nightingale noise and gnarl Tree of Knowledge, and I host knowledge up bare birds and quartet for the end of time.  Her time names the mystery of the desert mystery and the mystery belongs to Taryn, and she always prophesies narratives.  She prophesies narrative noise mystery and narrative Christina nativity.

I wonder if I’m a failure as a prophet of God, I say to Craig.  Why do you feel like a failure? He says.  I didn’t get anything done.  You’re not a failure, he says.  God doesn’t need you, he wants you.  If you feel you shouldn’t have taken a day off, then just make sure you do something tomorrow.  God knows you better than you know yourself and is not surprised even when you slack.  He knows when and how you’ll screw up, and yet he still chose you, he says.

I still prophesy     I speak prophecy rhizome electric mystery electrocuted mystery climbs bruised colors     I prophesy the without gods but Taryn and Asia choose me and remain with me (I talked to Taryn last night and she’s been helpful to me, I say to Asia.  I forget that she also cares for me unconditionally… I have not been a good person most my life.  I have been abusive mentally and emotionally, but somehow I have very good friends who care for me a lot.  It makes me want to cry.  It’s OK to be emotional sometimes, says Asia.  We don’t always deserve good friends but we have them anyways, she says)  I have Krystal Christina, Taryn, and Asia anyways     I prophesy her name and in her names, in her mystery and in her mysteries   rhizome narratives and multiple rhythms

The first mystery in the veil of the first ordinance, the twenty-fourth mystery outside and below / towards the lower and outer     Towards the outer lower ben bodies various bodies: ben bodies mysteries museums body multiplicities     Mysteries mix mysteries maroon moonlight     Misery midnight medium median mediastinum holy spirit spirit veil Taryn tusk     Taryn tusk tobacco teeth transmigration of souls

First mystery last mystery mystery middle     First mystery prophesies last mystery mystery middle meddle language     Mystery middle mercury emerges primordial elements     Middle mystery middle mothlight alchemy: arc alchemy human into aleph three Marys with Jesus each a Mary     Arch alchemy human into aleph three mysteries with Jesus each name a mystery

First mystery mediates immediate mystery mallard magma     Mystery murmur immediate mother mallard the continuing story of counterpoint / I continue the story of narrative and prophesy



I find an old email correspondence with Ann Marie from a little over 9 years ago concerning my prophecy and vision.  I record the correspondence in its entirety.


1.  Am I a prophet?  2.  Am I a visionary?  3.  Do I have visions and dreams?

One would object these are personal questions; only I would know the answers.  However, prophecy and visionary work is shared; prophecy and visionary work is felt and influences those around them, even if it's to rage like the israelites had for many of their own prophets.  Thus, it is appropriate to ask questions – they are both personal and shared, personal and communal, solitary and for all humanity.

What are your insights to these 3?  I have never quite asked them that way before (I have asked the first several times; but repetition = difference, repetition = new creation, new heaven and earth) 


Ann Marie’s response was as follows:

I have read your recent emails and attachments.  And here  is my response to your questions.

Yesterday I was talking with a friend about the difference between aspects of my theology that I could communicate within the current Christian framework/scaffolding/theology and those aspects that I do not know how to communicate in the current theological framework or in contemporary theologies. And in talking about that outside the boundary theology, I referenced you. I stated that I felt you were articulating some of that theology that I cannot speak, that nonetheless is the golden thread for me – the word and silence, presence and absence, light and dark, image and symbol – that I experience and sometimes glimpse in my own writing and imaging. Your work sometimes feels like a response to questions I have asked or will ask – an ongoing conversation that takes place on multiple levels – revealed and concealed through us and from us more than to us.  I suspect you have similar relationships with others.

I would call our particular conversation scriptural – in that is mediated by scripture. Many other prophets and visionaries have lived and been written this way – perhaps a process through which "God" writes on the human heart – not ever only one individual but not possible without particular individuals who live and love in particular bodies, places, and times.  

The boundaries of space and time are permeable – and what passes through that boundary is most often word/image. Explanations take place within the boundaries.  They work to integrate and contain what is being incarnated – the perpetual  deep-sea floor spreading that helps us recover from and prepare for the next tectonic shift.  

One of the threads I have been following recently is the insight that it is in the scriptural religions that each age ploughs its experience back into scripture.  That is what makes it palimpsestic. And that ploughing is most needed in our own time – an extension and expansion of a tectonic shift that occurred I think in the early 20th century. Many writers (and artists of all kinds) of the 20th century were engaged in that task, ploughing almost desperately to integrate some new revelation that is not conscious, perhaps will never be – since consciousness seems to be within the boundaries.  Barnes and Joyce, Jung and Eliot, and so many more (Phillip K. Dick?) have been taken up in that task.  And I would venture to say, you and I as well.  The work is incomplete of course – the tectonic shift was of great magnitude and we are still very close to it, living in the aftershock.  It is as if  a new holy mountain has sprung up, one that only those called and guided can climb – and yet, quite dangerous – hence, the need for scripture, for grounding, for place and time, for work and pleasure.  Ecclesiastes got much of it right. Perhaps that is why his book has been so popular in our century – the text of those still in shell shock,  wary of acknowledging the presence of something that is not "under the sun" that is more real than facts and reasons and explanations.  And maybe the deep-sea floor spreading of science and reason and explanation is the necessary distraction that keeps us from gazing too long and being blinded by the sun.  

For me, the church remains the necessary container/vehicle for this revelation – a revelation it carries but does not and cannot look at – one that appears in visions and prophecies – yes.  Only fragments and images can be honest because they bear witness to the presence of the absence. 

For me to write about such things – I think I would do it in fiction.  The characters are there waiting for me.  And the time approaches to give them voice and genre and audience. I once had lunch with Susan Sontag – and she pretty much said this same thing. Though known for her essays, she understood that fiction was more honest because it allowed for multiple voices. For me the Bible is the scriptural symphony that is the best model for how to write with integrity – with a sense of the sin and the wound, as well as with a sense of the whole that extends beyond the boundaries of human thought, science, invention – but can be glimpsed through vision and revealed through prophecy.

That was my initial intuition some thirty years ago – that intuition has incarnated in many forms since then – and I can honor and perceive it more deeply after years of scholarship, reading writing, and teaching.  But I intuited it – or rather it intuited me at a particular birthing point – a point I continue to circum-ambulate and incarnate – a journey within the boundaries – but held and touched by a transforming love that has no boundaries. Jung was a clumsy midwife to that birth.  But there were others.

And encountering you on that journey – yes – that has been very important.  I don't try to understand what you write.  I bow to it. 

Thus ends Ann Marie’s email.

Prophecy plays Taryn tectonic / her techne tours or detours a god geology     Her god geologies germinate pregnant stone horn the continuing story of counterpoint     First mystery mediates immediate mystery mallard magma     Mystery murmur immediate mother mallard the continuing story of counterpoint / I continue the story of narrative and prophesy