Thursday, November 18, 2010

poem ~ Jarrad Dickson

I thank you, for this beautiful experience;

I am whom had the sights and sounds of psychosis,

I am whom thought that Dilworth was an UFO

And that the principle was an arch alien

From Pluto in a body suit who ate the hearts

And brains of children from straightened circumstances.

This story is death from a brain schizophrenic

And heart only loved by a shy suicide, a

Chinese girl whom killed herself because she was pure.

I shall have the eyes of Horace, become known

As Michael Mathew and be an albino soon.

So I thank you, for this holy experience

Which shall give me rose window sclera and two hearts

Of black so they can have body memory and beat on

Their own; and I too shall have aura veins and flame hair

Like Cynthia of Botticelli, and Rose Blood,

The supermodel who cloned Hitler in the nineteen

Thirties, and when his head was taken off and put

Into the second moon off earth and taken to

Another area of dark space where he had

Another civilisation, with Aryans, she

Destroyed it by burning it down;

All this I saw before the eighteenth of August two

Thousand and eight, when I had another breakdown

And jumped over the grave of James Dilworth, founder

Of Dilworth school for boys of straightened circumstances.

I am the one

Who found out Cloud and Sepiroth did crash

In Roswell and whose spaceship’s held at Area

51; crashed doing a space-time continuum

Plane shift. And I shall live in that Area soon.

Our story starts with me, my life and I have to

Change the future story since I didn’t become

An albino superhuman when I did hear

A voice tell me I can become an albino

Spaceship with rose window sclera and a brain heart;

But there is one thing I did gain, and that is gold

Eyes, golden eyes, from a schizophrenic breakdown

But probably was from smoking the cigarettes.

I am the Lymphic portal in the Coromandel

And I am the numbers “eleven eleven;”

Leucotomy is the white man’s cannibalism,

And thank you, for this beautiful experience.

Your mouth shall have a pointed tongue to give women

Pleasure and you shall have a rose flower penis

That is Pluto’s penis, and Pandora’s chakras

And holy chalice breast gloss and chalice breasts.

You shall be an immortal, 51’s spaceship

And save the Greys from being cloned at 51.

You shall live forever; see new universes.

Jarrad Dickson is an aspiring author, artist, and occultist. He has published books with Chipmunkapublishing, a UK based mental health publisher, and has written a book on mystical psychosis with the renowned psychotherapist Dan L. Edmunds. He is a writer of esoteric fiction, with a focus on metaphor and meaning. His influences are Goethe, Yeats, Tarantino, Marilyn Manson, and many others. He studies Latin and English Literature at the University of Auckland, and is now developing a fantasy series.

This poem is from the novella Rose Blood: Chapter of Rose Croix.

1 comment:

Emily Howard said...

I really like this poem. It reads like a psalm with the same rhythm and mad devotion behind it. Bravo