You, Who To The Temple Came
You, Who To The Temple Came
"…... ... ... ... And yet
Dauntless the slug-horn to my lips I set,
And blew."
--- Robert Browning, "Childe Roland To The Dark Tower Came"
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… for, the exact moment
You roll headfirst
down steps steep with stony
indifference,
genuflecting in futility,
in cascades of your
devotion, eyeless,
Is when the Lord
(who or what the Being?)
Growls.
You hear the force rumble
inside you, all around you,
somewhere deep down,
(swelling up from somewhere, but where?)
Crouching deep down in the icy
dark hallways of
your bones, the corridors of
your convoluted skull,
(one voice? or a million?)
Far and near,
echoing, clamoring,
bouncing off massive buttressed
Walls, your lungs roaring,
your guts churning within
your peritoneal hollow...
.
.
[Wait.]
.
.
[It's stopped.]
.
.
And then,
Your solar plexus
Explodes
In a mad sunset riot of colors -
ultraviolent, azo orange
and azure, turquoise, gamboge and
bruised plum.
But the fireworks dissolve in a blink,
for then the only hues before
your eyes are the layers and
layers of immutable teeth, of a stratified
black and garnet-rhodonite frieze,
carved thick with creatures
dancing to frozen music in the flickering half-light
of a lone lamp,
licking around the curling edges of
clustering shadows.
And all the while rising high,
In curving lines,
Rippling way up to the topless Crown,
Above which no birds fly,
The divine phallus towers high
Over the holiest, most secret,
Most sacred womb. There, in those
darkest havens, buried deep
beneath caves, closely
hidden away from fleshly gaze,
on beds of glittering gems,
three faces of primal, radiant wood
Float. Pupils, like fierce pits of black fire
in the center
of their glassy
totemic eyes glow, and slowly grow, and grow,
swallowing up the whites...
[So, then, into hallowed ground, into thick shades
walled around corners, take your first teetering step -
If you dare! You, who seek despite the
gathering gloom, your eternal
jewel entombed in the
ever yawning
jaws of the
Temple…
]