Creatix (Poetic Fatwa II)

Om. Om. Om. Om. Om.
Om. Om. Om. Om. Om.

The poet of many colors
Om. I sing praises to the sky
The rhythm of cosmos
The giant lotus stretching to cover the elliptical galaxy of consummation.
The face of God,
The genome of the feet of God.
Protected by Gabriel in the palisade of Eden
When Iblis puppeted the monstrous rod of man,
To behold the fortress in the femoral valley of Eve.
The composed album of the forbidden fruit.

Om. Om. Om. Om. Om.
Om. Om. Om. Om. Om.

I behold the essence of Lakshmi,
The transcendence beyond imperfection
In the inscrutable womb of Virgin Mary,
Where God revived thyself
As ere Kali trampled upon the rustle of the heavens,
Even as Sekhmet tumbled along the waves of the Nile
Om. Are you the songs of Scotia and Caillech?
Or the silver crowned Coateizene
Or the sumptuous thighs of Aphrodite and Artemis.

Om. Poet of dust particles perfected by fatwa
How did God stand out as one?
How did he form an integer, a bubbling spot from earthly dimensions?
How did he form fatwa?
Fatwa. Poet of uncertainty
Before heavens fucked the earth.
Did tantras hands oil the symbolist member of God?
And was the coming a form of universal multiplicity
Fatwa. Did Gods gametes form Allah, Zeus, Vishnu and the legion of Gods?
Or was God born out of Siddhi, that alienable spiritual power.
Fatwa. Why has God transformed from a chaotic cosmic force,
To a gentle lamb detailed in Logos and realized in Jesus

Fatwa. Poet of life.
Is Om the essential songs of wealth?
That was harvested from the fountain of Kundalini,
The clairaudience, superlucidity, ecstasy and potent power
That the veiled gods decided to share with humans?
Or is it the residue of blackholes that centers our thinking
Or the mathematical prognosis of the universe anatomy

Fatwa. Is Om the chant of the wicked?
The religion of bastardism and blood expertise
Or a lore?
Fatwa. How is it that astrology perfects life
Is it a lunar chart of yore?
That slipped out of Gods safe and treasures
Or a book of guidance
Fatwa. How are we to burn pagan literature?
Or the potency of freemasonry and oligarchy?
When a system devised obliterates the people it serves
Fatwa. How should we sing Om?

Fatwa. Is Om the central speech of God?
Is invocation to the distant lush Eden, the eye of life?
Is the hidden horror in the bowels of the earth’s hell?
Is magma a cosmogony and stamp of hells abilities?
Should we be scared?
Fatwa. Why would God supremeness be questioned
Yet the delight of controversy and fear covers his subjects?
Who made God violent then weaned him to a pacifier
When spears were calibrated on religious superiority
To when God reinvented himself in the lamb.
Was the reinvention a simple gene mutation?
Or was it a change of time, a natural selection
To the forbearance of reason and logical summations
Fatwa. Why would you strike my pen to understand?
Cosmos. God. Nature. And the variants of God

Om. Om. Om.
Poet of life
Om. Om. Om.

Fatwa. How do you touch God?
Do you drown your head in a swamp and draw with your tongue
Do you revive dinosaurs to question them?
Or do you sigh at Sufi dancers perfecting the rhythm of silence
Fatwa. How do you kiss God?
Do you dwell in solitude and soliloquize meditation
Do you light his fury and watch the variegations of his anger
Or do you clench the air and blow a kiss
Fatwa. Is the everlasting a piece of glorification
A destroyer of mitochondrial DNA of reincarnation?
How should we illumine the atomic tongue of God?
Oh fatwa, the poverty of Om runs unsustained.

© Eddy Ongili 2014

All Rights Reserved


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