What Is Hidden

by Sam M. Phillips

Let loose, and obtuse,

I am back again,

Screaming and scheming across another page,

A dripping, crimson sword in my hand,

Ready to cut,

To cleave a path,

To see what is within.

I go inside and find a paradox of desire,

Two halves,

One set to build, the other to destroy,

And I wonder why I put myself through it,

I am just a child, a lost thing,

Born into this world,

And then grown biologically,

A mass in a bubbling vat,

I am not an adult,

I am not mature,

Only my mind, and my sex is mature,

My nature still adolescent.

Plumb the depths,

Master them,

It is a science,

The human mind reaches out,

The exact reverse,

I develop and consider,

It is unconscious,

A new method, a new angle,

Or old tricks?

Second sight,

Inheritance,

A busy intellect,

Gone under,

Full circle,

The magic of the past.

Drunk on philosophy,

Distorted reality,

A biography,

And a lost world.

Instinct, animal inheritance,

Some of the lost powers,

Mown down by the blades of Western Civilisation.

This is unconscious,

Automatic writing,

Do you think, that I think?

You are wrong.

Enormous strength,

Primitive,

Great unsolved mysteries,

Indisputable evidence of a nomadic mind,

Many gods and an evil influence.

Man, god, magic,

Gradually I stand upright

And take in the full view,

I concentrate,

Sub-conscious,

Too primitive to be explained,

Too wondrous to be denied.

She was a victim of the Queen,

A fury with a bit in the mouth,

Quarrel for six months,

Then branded,

A love affair,

Her destiny, lain out in real time,

A movie before her eyes.

Attempt to escape and you are drawn back,

There is nothing for you out there,

Your place is here with me,

In a world of non-sense.

Executioner,

Passing the souls down through the centuries,

Grief kept, boiling in the heart,

An adversary, seen from a distance,

Why did you not prepare?

Afraid, calling her name,

Lament and loss,

Brand me with love’s particular,

Invoke a quarrel, burst to tears,

Cover my nakedness,

Then expose me to Her elements.

The difficulty is in the last word,

Where does it end?

Only in death,

When both of our souls have migrated?

Hardly, for there, too,

The drama is played out into infinity.

I managed to get her to call,

Then realised it was no sacrifice,

Only a bending of the will,

And who knows if we have free will or not?

Are we all doomed to fate?

Terrifying threats,

Nothing gained,

Lost words,

From a lost sage.

Prolong human life,

Let it go on indefinitely,

Cure us of death,

Only to find it cures nothing

Of the sickness of our souls.

Walk away from me,

A glass in your hands,

You will not speak to me anyway,

Why do I torment myself?

Choke on these words,

Do not let them spill from your lips,

They cause me,

And you,

Only pain.

Who are you talking to?

Ghostly communication,

Conscious knowledge,

Twisted in a dark forest,

Nerves set on edge,

Frayed and then rewoven,

Do not tell me how to think.

Exercise the evil eye,

That is the strange business

You are engaged in,

Exorcise demons?

You invite them in,

Dabbling like this,

You are not strong enough

To resist them polluting you.

A poet in a grave,

A bird in the sky,

Words on a page,

And a harrowing cry,

A White Goddess,

And a simple mage,

Ideas and feelings,

Alive, in a rage.

I remember many extraordinary things,

Strange meanings in old fairy tales,

I have reached a crucial point,

I remove my ego,

And dream again.

Solar, lunar,

Allegory and taboo,

Sex, death,

Me and you.

Theory of a savage mind,

I have no words,

They turn up in dreams,

And I give in to them.

Superstition, existence,

I am a charlatan,

Believe in me,

And be damned as well.

Is this all you have to offer me,

Indigo demon, orange demon?

My soul is worth more.

Archetypes are forms of function,

They spring to life at every junction,

If this is the place where sanity ends,

What new curse, lies beyond these many bends.

Do not look back,

Do not read what you have written,

It is sure to make no sense,

But, surely, sense is the purpose,

Just not that kind of sense.

Sensitivity,

I am an instrument,

Let me be played for a fool,

And in doing so,

Express

What is real and unreal,

Made and unmade.

A mark in a book,

I have come so far,

A mark in the flesh,

An imago of my progress.

The little mouse,

And the ancient epic,

A sage either way,

An echo through time,

Each with its effects.

Undiscovered advice,

A paradise lurking somewhere

In my sub-conscious,

I seek you,

Turn to you,

What do you say?

Begin to bleed,

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

A genuine wound,

Defrocked,

Mocked,

Religion proves nothing,

Can the depths prove more?

Independent investigator,

I have no desire to be sullied by money,

By prestige and opinion,

Move away from me,

Turn your eyes from me,

Or be attacked.

Are you sceptical?

It has been proven,

Naturally shattered under microscopic vision,

Look inside and see the same.

A statue and a picture,

Workmen building,

Workmen tearing down,

Produce for yourself,

There is no-one here but you and I,

So find bliss.

Short, sexual and magical,

Witch cults, Sabbath and orgy,

Worshippers of Dionysus,

I am with you.

Confine and confirm,

Jerk me out of boredom,

An innate tendency,

Symbolic knowledge,

A concern, demanded, revoked,

Permission denied, and then set free,

There are no taboos, only judgements,

Are you all knowing?

Continue to eat the non-imitative bugs,

You will become them,

Accident, or purpose?

Flowers dissolve in a swarm,

A telepathic congress,

You speak to me in images,

And somehow, I find the words,

Do not stop, this is ecstasy.

Warm seas, life increasing,

I flow in you,

Half pink, half grey,

They are the same,

A soft undulating place,

Inside all of us.

Resemblance of a community,

Over soon, a collapse in slow motion,

Too slow for most, they are distracted,

Neon lights and sensate pleasures,

A rat race and a mountain of treasures,

A wheel with a kill-switch,

A hooded man waits his turn.

Random mutation,

Produce appetising results,

Others do not trust,

They are left with the bitter remains.

Natural selection,

Best known,

Accidently shot,

Taken down a long road,

Then left to fester.

It is a sign,

Father and mother,

Snide and contrived,

Am I doomed to the same?

Or can I rise up and find another,

A real lover?

Total opposition,

Ritual telling,

Met myself,

And I turned away.

Sudden clear perception,

Always a mistake?

I am trying to train myself

To trust my intuition,

Shut up the brain?

Lock him in a cage?

No, he can be let out,

He set things in order,

But do not trust him.

Horrible grimace, twisted face,

Black mask and a black mass,

Worshippers at an altar,

Why are you here?

I do not trust that you have thought this through.

Bored and weak minded,

You will be led,

Do not trust the living,

Definitely don’t trust the dead.

Elemental,

Wind, fire,

Fundamental,

Earth, water,

I call you,

So come to my aid,

I invite you in

And then attempt to bind you,

It is my fall.

Spirit medium,

Communication with the dead,

Surprisingly accurate,

Manifestations of the self,

Obscure and personal,

Or universal?

At the end we are all made of The One,

A holographic universe,

Each in the whole,

The whole in each,

So that we are close to all things,

They are contained in us,

Accurate.

Intellectual integrity,

Perfectly visible,

Violent opposition,

Heard gossip,

An impossible model.

Irrational manner,

Hysterical fancy,

Finding something out,

Finding something turned out,

Cast out of my mind,

Finding a home here,

Among a ramble of insanity.

I am at home inside myself,

All is here for me to find,

So I look inward.

A bell, ringing in the distance,

A call in time,

Bringing me back to the now.

The movement of tables,

Figures, symbols,

Spectacular,

On edge, excitement,

This is a form of extreme sport,

Are my errors forced?

Hang on the edge,

Knowing nothing,

Hoping, praying

That someone, something,

Will chance along and save me.

The possibility of a direct link excites me,

It is why I stay, perched here,

Exposed.

It all sounds so odd,

Like nothing I have ever heard,

A series of high pitched tones,

The voice of angels,

Or demons?

Two crows watch me,

A vision of murder,

I watch two owls,

And pray for wisdom.

Priestly caste,

The Devil’s thought,

Convey and diffuse lies,

Lead us astray,

Construct a theory,

A maze in our minds,

For us to be eternally lost.

A fiery moat,

Demons rise up,

I cross,

And try not to look down.

A hunch and an order,

An illness and a saving grace,

I soon realise there is no separation,

The demon,

The angel,

Is me.

A slamming door,

The immense relief,

A lost impetus,

An earthly castle,

Cast down, doomed,

This is the Fall.

Ultimate aim,

Dangerous government of the mind,

Changed man’s vision,

Made a slave of himself.

The drive was simple,

Superficial problem,

You have sold yourself far too cheaply,

Move up,

Out of the realm of man,

The realm of the senses.

The danger has been increased immensely,

Rare occasion of random observation,

You do not see clearly,

Enveloped in fog.

Convulsions and an arrest of the heart,

A last refuge,

The powers of human souls,

Whole fantasies,

Made real,

Can you conceive?

It will be born.

Being a poet,

You see a strange truth,

Will any others,

See what you see?

It all feels incomplete,

A glimpse through a gap.

Warm and human,

Shook hands,

Closed vision,

Forced open again.

Sensitivity to the spirits,

A whole crop,

A series of coincidences

And fakes.

Supernormal,

The site of an old rite,

Not to say, a personal dislike,

But to be open, to receive,

As an antenna,

Tuned to certain frequencies,

You do not doubt technology,

Yet doubt your own body,

An instrument,

Ready to receive the divine.

All is made clear,

Ghost whispers come at a price,

When she and her own psyche are laid bare,

I am there, ready with a pen.

It is certain,

There is an immense importance,

This is a service,

I serve you,

Who are you?

You are me,

We are we.

It literally alters everything,

To change the perception,

What do you think of these words?

Concentrate, then let it go,

Let the meaning shatter like glass on the floor,

Try to reconstruct, and realise

There is nothing to be made,

It was an illusion,

It never had meaning,

These words never had meaning.

It is a basic peculiarity of humanity,

To form constructions

From that which is un-constructible,

Alteration is not necessary,

It is what is,

Just get your mind out of the way.

Too much evidence of another world,

The voices have begun,

Rising to a chorus,

An uncertain crisis,

Do you hear the warning?

Blue eyes,

Like ice,

Water dripping down the face,

Your emotions.

The request is unreasonable,

Why are you here?

There is enough for everyone,

But what you ask

Is too much.

A priest raises his hand,

A passing benediction,

The equivalent

Of a ghostly raspberry.

A hand gripped a cold conquest,

Importance vanished,

A séance, a repertoire,

Squandered.

The call of a bird,

It is dawn,

A night has passed,

And terror finally receeds.

The trip begins badly,

Sickness, heat,

Dissolving reality,

Inside, a volcano erupts,

I decide to leave,

But where will I go,

When it took so much out of me,

Just getting here?

Attractive mistress,

Opportunity wasted,

I fall violently,

Begin to unhook

Everything I ever knew.

Author of Apocalypse,

Author of Armageddon,

Leave me alone now,

I’ve had enough.

You’ve made me a prisoner

Of my own unconscious desires,

I wish to be free.

It is an epidemic,

A cancer of the thoughts,

Our knowledge has been stained,

I once thought you a saint,

You are a seductress.

Discipline is required,

There are other paths,

Do not trust the visions.

A delicate child,

Subject to fainting spells,

An absent father,

And a path already set out.

Chamber of nightmares,

Walls covered in pictures,

They cannot be described,

Temptation,

Do not be feeble,

This is a test.

Define the object of conquest,

Fall into it,

Then pick yourself up,

Conquer.

I fall into a dreamlike state,

Illusion and reality are intermingled,

I become trapped,

Tangled in my own narrow values,

I do not open up,

I shut down,

It is a trap,

A trap you must spring,

Then spring yourself from.

A series of vibrations,

Serious permutations,

Multiple dimensions,

A multitude of demons mentioned.