The Tellurians
by Robert Cole
[ poetry - april 12 ]
telepathic bodhisattvas have been my muse and bafflement, grandmasters play 4D versions of their beatific game with my psyche, bantering texts, these precursors of hypnopompic states create mental metastasis: in a word confusion.
they appear as prismatic phantoms , unwavering, trembling goldleaf, they speak in ellipses without sound, vulcanized sacrificial, an haruspex of dust points the bone; delicate soundings of a lost civilization.
absorbed by a gravityless polyp, osmotic pressure extruding my body with irresistible metamorphic tropes until I'm a single celled distortion recessed to the gene-pool, an homunculus.
neurotransmitters cryogenically saved from decay in cyberspace matrix-transplanted to amygdala dying and regenerated by nanoseconds transcending senescence by default switched to its own parallel logic calculus.
electromagnetic spectrum of dream-readers, twisted helixes of miscalculation, broken rectilinear volumes of fog, television screens, schizoid, epidemic, symptoms catatonic, prognosis: psychosexual.
nexus of enclaves for the invisibles to increase, cradled solariums, mutations unlimited, by a quantal jump, exposed to radiation, still receding into the blacklight, detecting a tangible shift, monitored soundings, residual.
undisturbed I secured the sound diaphragm in the subterranean cell, twists and turns of the various wards, out of shape, I tested the psionic abilities of our new friends, they were audible at high frequencies, I sat in darkness, prismatic rays flickered across my face.
slender, eyeless figures, exponentially expanding, imagining portals into neuromotors, producing subsonics - simulations of given speech based in algorithms of alphanumerics, confusing at first to crumbling-y at base.
inaudible initially, they inscribed every syllable on a titanium tablet, the codex deciphered with the rosetta stone of galvanic light showing us to be an evolutionary blunder, a cosmic joke.
arcane technology unknown to another human being, was this an hallucination like the perpetual 'time-leakage' I'd experienced without stimulants, the laws of time and space a whorl of smoke.
a recrudescent dream, quasi-human, a sphinx worshipped by these spectral creatures, I'd entered their foetid haunt, ghoulishly, their prehistoric nature makes man primitive, transitory – only cataclysm and chaos.
theoretically only a relaxant for humanoids this ultrasonic music iridesces, a synaesthesia of fuzzy reminiscences like so many neutrinos or an amniotic swim, spiralling into being, squandering itself at point of loss.
obsessed with identity, the facets, the underlying contradictions, a dybbuk has taken hold corroding the memory, supplanting alter egos, suppurating ids, a carping super ego out of control.
psychopomps threaten with elixir, subconscious choreography of a censorious kind, charismatic demiurge assures invulnerability, alchemized braindeath to heightened perception; tomorrow's ghost.
soul macrocosmic, obliterating self image, under-stratum of consciousness occluded, the clinical trials have proven to expand the cerebrum but diminish personality: nebulous clones, squid-like, caught in a vast continuum.
having chosen the wrong co-ordinates, incorporating cetological regressed features, the demiurge is mischievous, forget scientific precision, all channels of life available, the pilot fish.
anaconda diamondback cells, ambushed by hypomyces lactifluorium, flesh-eating plants, fecund as lizards, serrated foliage, mind the azalea, a sleepy backwater, Venus-flytraps in abundance.
muffled imperceptible, these creatures are an enigma, eyes dilated, degenerate bodies, a constitution of oscillations and crepitations, dangling limbs, eviscerated wounds from impact, amputated scales.
I wolf down a slice of alien brain, it depicts its history vividly in my pineal eye, ritualistic, sacrificial messiahs of a scarab cult, zombification sets in, and I'm rendered as good as dead, hypnotized into believing.
glissandos, frozen slow cascades, crisp first footings of these sound sweeping creatures their auditory powers residues of meticulous research, ultrasonic version of the Jupiter Symphony played by vocalization as a way to reach us.
scarcely a perceptible gesture, kinaesthesia disrupted, we are all arms and legs, translucent eyes witness the rorschach of their attack vehicles, or are they merely subsonic shadows, manta rays gliding in.
tellurian overlords: their ambition, clandestine hierophants order a hecatomb of them from beyond the perihelion of Saturn and the trillion-year-old night; go to the floatation tanks for the answer: one global organism.
I woke in the sensorium of the mutants, their high-intensity feelings taking me in many directions; they are our superiors being able to empathize as one body and heal instantaneously.
derelictsatellites and floating debris, abandoned space programmes, conceptual psychosis, shifting after-images scattered at random: a phantom materializing, reincarnates tellurian life.
they caused mass amnesia among us, rendering all records null, there are only a few uncontaminated, redefining the nature of humanity, the contagion is ever threatening, till only one individual remains sane.
sane as time-slippage reshaping itself as teardrops dwindling away to infinity, humans nebulous in the amphitheatre of our dead desires, stripped of our humanity fighting for life, meaninglessly.
it was merely nitrogen narcosis and eternity hadn't swallowed humanity like Chronos, our visitors are just so many interfering fish, this is a brilliant star after all, we may have regressed, we may have skipped a beat, but we're more than shadows on a wall.
