On the turn of the tide.

Mar 31, 2015 15:32

On the turn of the tide the ocean speaks to you from out of the shell
you hold to your ear while you stand in the surf of the beach of blood red
and vermillion sand.
The oracle washes the dreams of mankind.
The beachcomber searches through the flotsam and jetsom.
You call the oracle with your pan pipes of obsidian fulgurites
from the sands of fabled Irem city of pillars in the Rub Al Khaki, the empty
quarter where a great star wrought of metal fell to the earth and consumed
all with a great burning fire.
Only the Gnostics escaped for they had called and listened to the oracle
they also saw many augurits and portents and foreshaddowings.
Hermetic occult and frenzied voices channeled from the other worlds
outside of space and time,
All else perished just as only Henry Darger escaped the twister Sweetie pie.
Te wasa there as a bot after the tornado that Henry was first tempted by the devil.
He refused him but now knew what he had to do.
Here the king in yellow made a slip telling Henry he would be a great writter and artist,
He also worked with Trelawny Backhous of Peking who spokeEnochian.
chinese russian japanese and and joe Gould aka Professor Seagull
Who spoke the perfect language of the birds and the angels.
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