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[dialogues-across-centuries]

evening prayers dishonest in policy; . hollow solace for a raw, unpolished apostle of lost philosophies . mephistopholes; hemlock seeds & socrates; . a modern prophet martyred on the cross of apostasy . & lost at sea

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

The Hanged Man

Borne by the Cross of Saturn, I am the Childe of The Living Waters

& thou art my kin;

Though forged in the Athanor of Affliction, I am made perfect In the Great Ocean,

Where the suffering of selfhood Converges w/ the bliss of Becoming.

Though my plight seemeth dire, In truth, I am at perfect rest — Thus do I demonstrate the Deception of Appearance;

What the fool calls perception, To the Wise, is but reflection, For the inner world is fluid — It replies to our suggestion.

Those who wouldst resist me Thereby seal their own rejection, Yet all those who surrender Find in me their resurrection.

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

no circus nets in the carnival of souls — . 'round & 'round it goes; . where it all stops, nobody knows... . but the tale is told as the story unfolds — the glory of the rose, unclothed & exposed . to all who behold . a moment alone, a grain in a sand glass, a ghost in a stone

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

Autumn 🍂

Ample groves of rusty shades Unfurl into their dusk parade To usher in the harvest near; Underneath the starlit clear Magenta sky, we eulogize Now distant days w/ rueful sighs.

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

men of thought & men of action — . no satisfaction rolling stones; . in the life of modern man, the myth of sisyphus unfolds; . mass existence in a chrysalis of businesses & phones; . inner riches rendered impotent by syndicates when sold

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

The Lion, The Goat, & The Peacock

Within a sprawling meadow green, Tucked far away from prying eyes, I came across a dreadful scene — A falling-out, to my surprise.

There stood three of my dearest friends — As Peacock fanned his vibrant tail, Goat gave a snort & reared his head, & Lion roared w/ a violent wail.

Before their rift grew out of hand, I stepped between the troubled three & spoke, "My friends, thy shouts are grand! What quarrel has so ruffled thee?"

As Peacock turned to look my way, The Sun shone on his feathered plume, & w/ a grimace, he took to say, "The others dared to question whom

Among us earns God the greatest praise, When I, of course, deserve renown! The spotlight of His gracious rays Upon me proves I've earned the crown!"

"That's nonsense," Goat said w/ a sneer, "That pride of yours has swelled your head, My cocksure crony. Listen here — Despite your looks, you're seldom bred,

But I, the virile wunderkind, Have sown my seed both far & wide; My nanny goats will soon begin To populate the countryside!"

Then, w/ a grin, he turned to me & chuckled, "Do you see, my friends, How God above observes thru me The glory of paid dividends?"

On that note, Lion puffed his chest & shook the tangles from his mane, Then let out, as you must have guessed, A mighty roar that shook the plain.

As his companions stumbled back & cowered underneath their fright, He grinned & spoke the subtle fact — "Unto me God bequeathed his might."

w/ proven point, he bowed his head In my direction & inquired, "What, Woman, has aroused thy dread? I hope not something we've inspired."

My eyelids gently pursed, I sighed & gazed upon my quarreling friends, Then, after pausing first, replied, "Before I can implore amends,

I must confess, it troubles me That three of His beloved kin, Whom God sent me to undersee, Have raised between them such a din!

For you're mistaken, don't you see? One cannot claim his Highest grace; You've pled your cases potently, But anger can't provide the space

From which to elevate the soul Upon a pedestal unclaimed. If one can't celebrate the whole, On solid ground he shall remain."

My friends fell silent as I spoke, But each one cast a doleful glance Upon me as my lines invoked A truth that left their souls entranced,

& as I turned to walk away To give them all a chance to think, I heard the voice of Peacock say, "At last I understand the link

Between all creatures of the earth — That which has been our source of spite, For 'tis the features from our birth Thru which we bring the Lord delight!"

The others shared a thoughtful sigh, & Lion cleared his throat to speak, "That notion never crossed my mind — Yes, truth be told, we're all unique!"

But Goat, it seemed, had another thought That he could not leave unexpressed — "In my opinion, mothers ought To be revered above the rest."

The others gasped in unison, & a mocking grin crossed Lion's face. "You've always been the foolish one," He laughed, but Goat replied w/ grace —

"'Tis Woman who bestows the gifts w/ which we honour God above, & even now she's sewn the rift Between us three with honest love."

w/ his kind speech, I turned around, Tears gently streaming from my eyes, As rays of sun dispersed the clouds & beamed upon that goat so wise.

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

death horses & eternity . time bought, sold, & borrowed; . living off punch clocks & promised tomorrows . destiny fated; an object of sorrow . the blood of christ iced; dionysus & bordeaux

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

The Tree of Knowledge

With every deed, we plant a seed That promptly takes to growing; It never deceives — wherever it leads, It blossoms into Knowing.

When we harvest the fruits of Wisdom's tree, We're best to quickly share it, For knowledge unspoken breeds misery & loses all its merit.

As we savour the taste of newfound grace, We'd do well to remember — We mustn't make haste & pick up our pace, But wallow in its splendour.

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

Free Will

No more a slave to destiny, I aim to call the shots, For free will crowns the recipe To claim one's sovereign lot.

If not, be it the death of me, Condemn me on the spot, Adorn the gallows festively, & leave me there to rot!

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

a perfect world, curated & cultivated, . pixelated into fractals & subjugated; . snapshots of infinity's fluctuation sit in rusted frames, painless, in trust & patience

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

Tristitia

my timeline doesn't shine like a fine wine; post-traumatic flashbacks rewind behind my mind's eye. my hindsight rendered blind, why? a lifetime flies by like an ibis in the night sky; w/ every sigh, it passes right by, & now i'm on my knees praying for some guidelines...

how can i define "i"? why would the divine lie? how do i unwind now that every tear's been cried dry? why have i been side-lined? when will it be my time? if it's really by design, how can i refine mine?

sometimes, i find, signs hide behind defined mind; you have to gaze at the abyss to read the fine line.

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

Summer ☀️

Streams of golden light caress Unspoiled dreams of life's success; Midday rains & ocean tides Masquerade as hopes denied; Evening's scarlet glow descends, Reflecting our supposed end.

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

The Pleasure Principle

I aim to make the most of pain, & with its grace I hope to gain The strength to spring back to my feet, No matter what I chance to meet —

For sorrows are but clouds that pass, & inner peace is bound to last As long as one has come to know That troubles come & troubles go.

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

To Hell & Back

As I walk thru the valley Of the shadow of death, Its luxuriant malaise Enraptures my breath;

Fraught w/ sinners who burn w/ the foulest of smells, How it twists & it turns Thru the bowels of Hell!

I was once just like you, w/ my head in the clouds, 'Til the light grew too bright & I fled underground,

But upon my arrival, I questioned the choice; As I prayed for revival, There beckoned a voice —

"My son, don't be a stranger — Acknowledge the face Of God's favourite angel, Once fallen from grace!"

As I looked up at Satan, He said w/ a grin, "Perhaps you should make Friends w/ that devil within!"

& so, wisely, I heeded Those words of advice, Which revealed the one secret I'd searched for in life,

For once I could acknowledge The darkness inside, The light shining within me Had no place to hide!

As it grew to eclipse all My malice w/ wonder, The image of God Rent Hell's palace asunder,

& He showed me a vision Of parchment unfurled, Bearing verses of hope To impart to the world...

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

Spring 🌷

Sun-kissed blossoms are born anew; Petals shine w/ morning dew. Raindrops christen the sacred land, Inspiring Life to make its stand. Nature's splendour elevates Gentle souls to Heaven's gates.

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

Literary Liturgy

We salivate for salvation...

"O deliver us deliverance! Please, pry us from our prison cells of incidental innocence!"

This is the summit of submission;

w/ listlessness we listen in on endless inquisitions, content to be conditioned into penitent positions.

The Individual has ended;

each sycophantic Sisyphus insists that it's his purpose to decrystallize his chrysalis of sentimental servitude —

But our internment is internal:

We commiserate w/ misery, pursued in our pursuits by phantasmagoric phantoms thru imaginary imagery.

To excel in the external,

we must demystify this mystery of insistent inconsistency w/ exceptionless acceptance & relentless receptivity.

Let's salute the soul's solution to dissolve all disillusion — now we're indifferent to the difference, absolved of this illusion!

— T.M.P.

[dialogues-across-centuries]

Where the Eagles Soar

My grandfather once told me I was wise beyond my years — But why then have I only Yearned to rise above my fears?

If truly wrought w/ wisdom, I'd be prized among my peers; Instead, I fought the system & derived from them just sneers.

If truly blessed w/ prudence, I'd deny them of their jeers, & w/ my depth & shrewdness Land a viable career —

But that's not how the cards were dealt When Fortune played her hand. Instead, she gave me hard-earned welts; That's when I made my stand.

w/ that, I chose to disobey & go against the herd, But as I slowly slipped away, I heard those fateful words —

"My son, you're wise beyond your years," Just like I'd once been told; But why then did I commandeer This life so undersold?

"My child, you've been mistaken," The voice so bold proclaimed, "The lot you've undertaken Has won your soul acclaim.

It's not a simple task for one To break free from the mould; Despite your sinful actions, son, I'd say you've won the gold —

For few & far between are those w/ the strength to turn away, & shoot for stars that seem to most Like deadly birds of prey."

— T.M.P.