Alchemisland

It’s Berlin the museum

Eight gates separate the great from the dust 

The eighth adorned with animal faces, graced with sky hues rubies and jacinths

Adjacent the golden steps of great temples

There is no complacent way to tend an eternal flame

The frame of the world, its high lofty domes, made them fine architects

Windows angled west better to barter for a subsequent sunset

The solar sojourn she sinks into the worldwomb, tomb of Time

House of Amenti, lsis laments Osiris tamarix entombment at Byblos the balance upset

Set upbraids his greenskinned brother who raised the lands to life

Set will praise his greenskinned other when his missing parts unite.

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Great walls raised up impressively

Passively dominant 

Slaves with jewelled bellies gyrate in suspended cages over thoroughfares where Ishtar masturbates 

Tower tip the sky rakes, camel backs breaking in the wake of trade’s traffic

Fist-sized diamonds raised up in Africa, where Solomon and Sheba laid

Sheep are laid out with open bellies, alley smelly with death

Flies like halo Beelzebub in throbbing murmurations, thong the 

Susurrations in the highest tower wish strife on thy nations

Babel’s proudest flower, Nimrod’s brick carnation

Angels teach us alloys magics in trinity

Our horns Ur haunt with doleful threnody

Babes are given up unto war-mad Marduk

Sickle swords, questions when Mars shook

The Gods themselves in infinite power glower at the pride of man

The bull of Heaven pacified, star maps of the antient Chaldea

Priests usher acolytes into fear tunnels, runnels run the wall’s length beneath the dunes

Inducing the mysteries.

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Nimrod in the Lord’s sight smites the beasts of the field

Everything within sight is his, its rissom bounty his yield

Land they steal back from the desert mark with Lamashtu

Winged steed with manlike features to ward off creatures

They will eat us so they burn the bricks repeatedly

Pile and heap them, mound them mould them into history

The bricks you bring, and each must bring some, build from bitumen

That another avenging flood’s angry rain will not end the reign of men.

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Ten horses aside can bestride its vast leys

Overhead the orb of the Smiter cruelly blazes

Sacred sows batting tails, beneath canopy lazing

Dust caked where backbreaking they break bricks

Everyday here is exactly the same

Work at the tower, worship a flame

Nimrod’s foremen cruel voices strident

A man’s death symbolised by a trident

Expendable the dismal lives of slaves

Toe dip shallow their cairnless graves  

Idents from the lives of idols bedeck the walls between the ivories

Under threat of death diviners prise out glad tidings, pleasing ides

Birds reveal sweet throated secrets deep with their breasts cleaved

Eyes inset with bulging aquamarines, amethysts to take your breath away

A lunula of beaten gold lined with diamonds against Her ample breast lay

Armies line the board’s opposing poles, the great game of Ur is played

Nimrod lets them win, firms swaying loyalty, ensures the piper’s paid.