Alchemisland

Morgan freeman how I speak too freely

It’s too easy to upset someone these

Day’s old, night’s young, I try to call her honeybun

Honey is torture, equal to eating a burger with a lamb bun

Queen accuses rogue bees of embuzzlement, hive trial of century

Her fiery locks in a wide bun like ezekiel’s wheel as it spun

From Chebar to the House of the Son of Man, where are wonders 

My charisma deals blunt damage, low points persuasion

At a gaff party in Ballsbridge, flat belongs to the first son of an Asian

Billionaire, owns three airlines and has a surgically implanted hairline

From here you can see the skyline, the Phoenix Park treeline

The sky-straddled obelisk, the rent boys and odalisques

In operation at its vast base, I rack out three lines 

And send one-day doctors senile

Purificatory the eyes turn milk pale

Maester Aemon holding walls for bearings, using echolocation

Irish guys whose dads’ destroyed the country selling sub primes in the boom times

Wives with pieces on sale in Kilkenny Design

French sounding names courtesy of a Norman line 

I talked to one guy about HAARP, terminally online

Every newspaper is lying, every government committing crime

But when they say aliens are real, you’re learning all the lines

Calling things UAPs, the sacred creed of Elizondo Luiz 

I squeeze that lemon of its juice, abuse his amusements

Hot as Ifrit I undo a single shirt button, I’m crueller than mutton

I’m Ronald Hutton out hunting witches, hang bunting

For a seer burning, sear the skin in warning

Of magical practice

What I said to you, that’s a none thing

Say it again, you’ll hear phone ring

Sucking a priest’s dick used to a nun thing

Until Fleabag made it a something

To talk about at lunchtime.

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HAARP is not close to my heart

But I find great art in conspiracy

We are arch narrative

This is our narrative

Removed from reality, comparative

Religions illustrate our mythic parity

Whether you hail from distant parts

Or busy ports, whether raised under roofs near ramparts

Or in Gizalike tunnels clogged with coalheavy minecarts

He’s just parroting

Lines, a parody

Of a truthseeker

Considers himself patriot and paladin

Padraig Pearse’s pal, call me ar maidin

To march to O’Connell in green column

He thinks Colmcille is a Fortnite streamer’s twitch handle

He speaks no Irish but can detail every Clinton scandal

Wooden spooning should start in the womb for these fools, nogo

Area anything related to immigration or Trump’s presidential campaign, at pains

To avoid sore areas. He tells me he got a Luas down from Ballyogan

To this dog and pony show, show his face, ask him where does he go

To college at which he laughs full throated, university is woke, bro

I’m on the dole, can’t sell me soul, the gods they praise are Babylonian you know

Podesta emails saved on two encrypted hard drives, after the pole switch the whole

Grid’ll go down, it’ll be FEMA detention camps and Saturn Cube priests in robes

Sacrificing virgins in the Hadron Collider tunnels, did you know pinecones

In antient art depict pineal glands, ours have stoned over

But they used to let us move rocks with mind powers, white as Dover

Cliffs these magical masons who built Atlantis, my aunty met Blavatsky who told her

Never listen to the angel on your shoulder, look instead to fire-bodied Lemuria, older

Than Atlantis, forget not Mu far advanced, and before that the splicing of man and plant, fauna

Never seen since in princely antlers pranced and cantered on a plain where steam as from a sauna

Shot up in great vaulting cathedrals, eagles bred from evils the size of dragons

Jackals built like lions, opposite of jekyll, tear roofs off jacals, flagons

Of poison in a single tooth of the tail-dragging behemoth lizards in the canyons

Rats fast at tachyons tackle prey ten times their size, take on ten ton mares

One hundred times a destrier in height and might, flesh a salamander could not ignite

Comes off like night at day under the claws of these gargantuan rats, forget Princess Bride

This is not ratting to the FBI to save your hide, these are rats who’ll strip your hide 

From whom no one can hide, the hardiness of their contemporary counterparts shrines

Their craftiness and survivor guile, never more than a mile from one

Men from beyond the sun came here and taught us advanced sciences

Donated devices we could harness but not replicate, genetic splicers

Levitators to raise the sky height temples, homes for the necessary sacrifice

The price of technology is life

We augmented living things as if they were appliances

And we forced the Lord to drown us in brine, to silence us

See, Cain from Nod and Enoch spread his dark lessons

Lessening the Earth, unblessing, undoing the greatest of the Great Works

To this day, the trade is made and tech is paid for in blood

Black choppers in the quantocks, drag and drop black ops black clothes

Oswald Molesley types, stars and stripes and presidential snipers

Drop ladders, dissect cattle and loot the lymph nodes

Dump the desiccated corpses in a ditch off the road

Hopping from one topic to another, pogo

Doesn’t believe in the moon landing, Mandela Effect Fruit of the Loom logo

Suspicious of Astrazeneca

Failed every exam in Dundrum Technical

Who needs experts when there’s Thomas Sheridan

Sharing hateful takes with ruddy cheeks in the back of his car, clearly a Jafar

Or working for the enforcement

Great minds think alike but fools rarely differ

I tell this guy to read a book or two, leave him half the bifter.

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Twisted Sister how I roll and raise my nose from rocks

Game of Twister how I go from red to blue to purple in my socks

Hand she eats from mine

Planets must be trine

Pants I’m trying

To work like offworld mines

Roy Batty style

I’m rolling up the wild

WB Yeats the Stolen Child

How I ply my magical wiles

Come, stay a while

And listen, voice of Tristram

Cain it, run along the blade Deckard is after me

Smoke it on the decking, she gets it after me

I’m a laughing fiend, fox among sheep in wool filigree

Honours degree in taming gee

I’d say she either went to the Institute

Or another non-uniform school, light on rules

Moonlight suits her.

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John Berger how many ways of seeing

It seems like dreaming, each thing revealing

My eyes wide potato peeling, stealing

Glimpses of what may come

The next, past eating future eating great ouroboros.

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My scrying devices in a pile

My crystal ball next to my aztec obsidian

Which old demons live inside of

My farsight stretches one mile.