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The Progression Concept
a project by jonathan delucia…
With your hands, remove our scales
And bleed our developed failings.
Slip the vein.
With your philosophy, delete ourselves.
For we’ve come to understand
And have reached the outer edge.
There is no room for you here.
From the doors we may have opened,
Twist the plans
And cut the arm from the evil one.
Selah
We were yours originally.
Of personality suppression,
May we reach out of order to you?
From how we’ve defined you,
Can we still find you?
As Children of the Fellowship,
Are our brains erased of you?
Haven’t you proved to be far above our education literation events and blueprints?
And what, exactly, is passed the programmed?
I feel the universe decrease
And wind like the peak of an acid trip
Inside the beginning of me.
“Break down into composite parts and solve them” (plagerized)
The center,
From which my appendages reach out in every direction
Hears the voice they claim.
It’s resonated in this tiny chamber.
Smaller than the smallest,
It becomes a nothing,
Which houses the entirety of eternity.
+
I only know you as a human
But even I, as human, recognize the center.
And within THAT
You speak.
Formless.
Not related to shifting shape as we are,
You are our original.
And to deny the ascension of the spirit
Is to deny the cartoon X’s in my fish’s eyes.
Hillary
150-007-5351
The spirit.
One who has always known you…
Love, we are related.
Like bloodline.
We are married.
I’ve been the spill of your sweat,
The dust,
In which you have sculpted artistically.
I am able to speak of you,
Reject you,
Perfectly able to hate you but I love you.
Those unworthy of understanding are allowed,
And We the People are nothing
Rewind
To our greatest wisdom.
Blasphemy when regarded as fact.
Daily we wrap our thoughts around divinity
And cut your entity like paper snowflakes.
The truth I’ve known I’ve always known.
It cannot however, be hastened,
Housed in glass jars,
Cannot be leashed or released on film
(well, sometimes on film)
It needs no means direction or conclusion,
Like the linier horizon that divides our soul from mind.
It needs nothing.
It is the I AM
Omnipresence and omnipotence are it’s right and left.
It occupies all space and all time,
Invisible improvable
Perfect matter,
Despite our human consumption and dirty little fingernails.
I’ve heard the music that a single person can generate,
Who’s reed translates,
And three sided corners vibrate.
As I gather in labor public cults circles and quarters,
As I debate with the teams of men,
With assertion in left pocket by closing my mouth like a casket,
Nothing becomes my queen and opinion my enemy.
The universe is rewinding.
The universe is rewinding into the center in me.
This is where you speak…
©2008 Jonathan DeLucia, all rights reserved