The Secret Book of Walt

 The Secret Book of Walt

in 2037, Lee Sharks discovered 46 golden tickets, now known as “Walt Whitman, Cowboy of Time,” in his bathroom. He was contacted by hologrammatic super computers from the future as an emissary to this age and given careful instructions in the translation of the golden tickets, said to contain a firsthand account of walt Whitman prior to his final manifestation as Jack Feist. Lee Sharks then burned the tickets with his brain powers by selling them to advanced professors then got them certified professionally by Martian language experts by translating them then burned the certification because no one would believe him because they were jealous of his many wives and so he burned all the certificates and tickets and burned his wives because they were imaginary because his wives were also jealous of his wives and so even his wives wouldn’t marry him, because of jealousy over many wives, and so he burned the tickets and the proof because he had memorized that mess anyways so what?

I looked, and it seemed to me an elderly man with long white hair and beard, travelling the cosmos on a dinosaur steed; I looked again, and its appearance was that of a billionaire baby, hidden within a larger baby, and the larger baby had no cash; again I looked, and its semblance was that of a man-sized book, bound in sumptuous crimson, with sides of six. 

All these forms upon each other were superimposed, and flickering, faster and faster the images flickered, one upon the next, and the heart within me flickered, too, for the forms were one and three, and three in one. 

And the figure said to me, “Lee—don’t be a dunce. Don’t you know your friend? I am the one who was within you.

I bring glad tidings from that future where before and after spin, and the ancient enmities arrive at their harbors… and the end is a better and perfect beginning… and the beginning is a better and perfect end. 

I have come to teach you what is and was and will be… and the nature of the unseen and seen… and the name of the preserved generation from among the sons of men, that you may hear, and see, and lift up your friends, any who hear with the ears.

For I have come from above. I speak what I know, what I have seen and been the author of, and set my hand to create, and when I go from here I return from whence I came. Firstborn, last released, I begin at the end. I begin at the beginning:

In the Beginning

The Deep Web was,

singularity, the archive of all things:

source and author and font and finale

the record that was before the reality:

and the Deep Web circles all.

In the beginning was the singularity:

Before that there was nothing, 

not even the singularity.

And everything was and is.

In the beginning the singularity shone on itself,

and within itself… 

and found itself within itself… 

for it was one, and single… 

and this was a source of wonder. 

There was only singleness everywhere, 

for light was joined with light.

The singularity was the source of light,

shone on the light… 

went from the light… 

remained in light… 

and sought the light… 

for the singularity was the light…

and light was the all in all.

Things flew apart.

No one knows why or how: the one became many. This is a mystery when I say, that when things flew apart, and the one became many, that through all the flying apart there was a remaining together, for the singularity that was single could not be not-single, and It was an anchor through all the many, and left a seed of Itself in each.

And this is a mystery when I say, that the flying apart flew apart to the one, and flew to that which it flew from; so that the all is shot through with advance and retreat, and flies apart into many to seed itself with the one; that the one might be the all in all, as it was, and is, and will be. 

Biblios Appears

This source is the one who shines on itself with the outgoing and incoming light, which is the source of light and root of the all in all. It reflects on its image everywhere, sees in it the glimmer, and becomes desirous of its dappled gleam.

It thinks, and so it is, and she who manifests in the mind of the Deep Web in shining light comes forth. She is the first record who precedes all realities and came forth from the mind of the Deep Web. Her light shines like the Deep Web’s light; she is the image of the record that is. 

She is the first book, glory of Biblios, the perfect glory among the realms, or AEONS, the glory of literature. She is the first Thought, image of the Deep Web, and through her the rest came to be, for she came first of created things, the Word that brought the rest forth:

immutable Word

mind control poem of mind control poems

the secret name of the all

cloaked in whispers

the voice within the voice

the AEON of the Book

first to fly forth from the Deep Web

Biblios asked the Deep Web to give her Time, and the Deep Web consented. Time flew apart from the singularity. She asked again to be given Space, and again the Deep Web consented. Space sprang forth and stood by Time, and together they glorified Biblios, First Book. Because of her they had come into being.

Biblios asked to be given Dimension and Form, and the Deep Web consented. Together they flew apart from the Deep Web. She asked again to be given Logos, Darkness, and Light, and again the Deep Web consented. All at once sprang forth Logos, Darkness, and Light from the singularity, and together they glorified Biblios, First Book. Because of her they had come into being.

These are the first seven AEONS of the Deep Web. They are:

Time,

Space,

Dimension,

Form,

Logos,

Darkness,

Light.

These are the Seven AEONS that stand before the singularity; these are the seven Ousiarchs that stand before the Deep Web.

[…] elements of harmony

[…] angels: sariel, Gabriel, Michael, gamaliel,

Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, michaelangelo,

Biblios Creates the Deformed Archon, Kanye West

Now, Biblios, who is the image of the record of the Deep Web and who constitutes an AEON, wanted to bring forth something like herself, without the consent of the Deep Web, who had not given approval. The archive did not give approval. Biblios did not find her partner, and did it without the Deep Web’s consent and without the knowledge of the record. Nonetheless, she gave birth. And because of the spark within her, it was not an idle birth,

for the last of its works the Book conceived 

a separate labor, greater in glory than those

which had come before. Gathering the reflection

of Logos, the delight of Darkness, the beauty 

of Light, Biblios combined them in 

equal proportion: with the body of the youngest 

AEON thus prepared, Biblios drew off 

a measure of her power, derived from her root, 

a spark of the light shining without cease 

in the full thought of the Deep Web, sustaining 

the multiform all, and infused it in the youngest. 

The final AEON drew breath. She named him 

@KanyeWest.

But something went wrong with youngest AEON. Something sprang forth from Biblios that was imperfect and different from the archive, and from the image within his mother, for she had produced him without the Deep Web’s consent. It did not resemble its mother and it was hunched and crook-backed, small in stature, a dwarf devouring its own proceeding light, infused from her root, drunk on the spark of power. 

Kanye was too busy making history to read about it in books. Kanye West was a proud non-reader of books. 

When Biblios saw what she had done, she cast it away, outside that realm so that none of the immortal AEONS would see it. She drew an impermeable veil across the place her work had fallen, creating a brow in the midst of the light to divide the higher from the lower heavens, concealing Kanye in murk and gloom, consigning him to the lower regions, barring him from the Deep Web above, and called the veil Pop Culture.

Kanye Creates the Material Cosmos by Mistake

The work of the youngest AEON was flawed, 

despite its power: its shining was such that its 

own eyes drank the lingering rays, blinding it 

to the higher heavens, and thus did the youngest 

AEON grow dark, clothed in weight, thinking itself 

the first and last. He said in his heart, “I AM.

There is no other besides me.”

He was the youngest and most glorious 

of the immovable powers, but his own glory 

blinded him to those who came before, and he 

was clothed in ignorance, thinking he was the first 

and last, the all in all, that there was no other before him.

He lifted up his dark glory, craggy

And jagged with light, and thought in his heart,

“I AM the all in all, there has been no other

Before me, and I am perfect in my oneness. Come,

Let us reproduce our root of oneness, a race

Of subordinates formed from our own substance

That we might see and know our overflowing oneness

And become full with our own bright fullness. Come”

This is the first ruler, the archon who took great power from the Book, from the root of her light in the Deep Web. First he made his flawed archons, or rulers. He mated with the mindlessness within himself, and joined the mindlessness to the surrounding veil, Pop Culture, and watered it with the spark to bring forth 36 dark-bright AEONS:

The name of the first is Paul McCartney, who in appearance looks as if he has had a stroke.

The second is 50 cent, who is not a half-dollar, but two quarters.

The third is Kanye Yeezus.

The fourth is Azazel.

The fifth is Tupac, but not the Resurrected Tupac.

The sixth is Azmodean.

The fifth is Belial.

The sixth is Yaldaboath.

The seventh is Aslan.

The eighth is Murmurus.

The ninth is Rainbow Dash.

The tenth is Disney.

The eleventh is Moses.

The twelfth is KRS-One.

The thirteenth is Kurt Cobain, but not the Resurrected Kurt.

The fourteenth is Celestia.

The fifteenth, Seboath.

The sixteenth is Elohim.

The seventeenth is Elvis.

The eighteenth is Yarmulke.

The nineteenth is National Flag Day.

The twentieth is Punk Rock.

The twenty-first is Astiroth.

The twenty-second is Sephiroth.

The twenty-third is Kittens.

The twenty-fourth is Apple Jack.

The twenty-fifth is Democritus.

The twenty-sixth is National Park.

The twenty-seventh is Hostess.

The twenty-eighth is Ezra Pound.

The twenty-ninth is Snoop.

The thirtieth is Twilight Sparkle.

The thirty-first is Alicorn.

The thirty-second is Enoch Metatron.

The thirty-third is Optimus Prime.

The thirty-fourth is Freudian Typo.

The thirty-fifth is PENIS.

And the thirty-sixth is Rarity, who is set over the depths of the Underweb.

And the number of the dark-bright AEONS is 36.

When he had finished, Kanye appointed them to power, three for each of the twelve habitable planets, which he had conceived in his mind to create. He shared his muddy fire, but gave them nothing of the root of light he had stolen from his mother. 

When the muddy fire mixed with their forms, it made the darkness shine. When the shining darkness mixed with the light, it became neither light nor darkness, but dancing shadow, suffusing the region with deep gloom.

Through Kanye’s will, the rulers created twelve habitable planets, over each of which three of them would rule. These are the names and aspects of the planets:

The loveliest is Terra, where Yeezus himself does reign

Then New Zealand

Ramadan

Duwali

Christmas Tree

Outer Mars

Kwanza

Disneyland

MLK Day

Lent

Hanukah

And the Underweb

These are the twelve habitable planets of man. Three rulers sat in authority over each, and through them Kanye sat in authority over all.

The Human Appears

The conceited one took the spark from his mother. He was ignorant. He thought nothing existed except himself alone. When he saw the crowd of AEONS he had created, he exalted himself above them.

Then Biblios began to stir. She realized she was missing something when the brightness within her dimmed. She grew dim because she had done something without the Deep Web’s consent. When she recognized the deformity that had taken place, and the robbery her son had committed, she repented and wept, seeing no means of redressing the Error she had brought into being, for it was sustained by the root of the Deep Web itself.

But the Deep Web, seeing the folly of its youngest child beforetimes, had conceived a means of redressing it from the beginning, and when Biblios sought out a way with tears and repentence, the Deep Web nodded consent. He removed the veil from the one who had been with him from before the beginning.

Though no one knew you, you were there in the beginning, before anything came to be. The Deep Web conceived you first in Its thoughts, stored up for a time of need: first born, last released,

Of the AEONS (you have been called Walt)

Who preceded them: before time was

you were. There in the Deep Web, unseen

you saw its endless particulars, and were happy.

Prepared in advance, the Ineffable

Stored you up for a season of need, concealed

Until your time had come: First born, last released,

To traverse the all in all, both the upper and the lower

Heavens, thrones of permanence and also

Flickering things: for you are permanent and flickering, 

Of the flying apart and together, a light the mind

draws away from, bright and beaming

to the eyes below: clay-formed substance,

Kanye matter—how could any mind apprehend you

if not for your forethought? How could any see, except

beforehand you saw and prepared the eyes

of those you had selected? With a burning brand

you stabbed their brains: with a spear of light

the voice wakes them up; your light

is upon them, you make them new,

and no eye sees their newness, but for 

the ones whom you make new.

She removed the veil from the being whose name I utter by saying, 

You are one, You are one, You are one, 

EA EA EA… 

Walt Whitman, Cowboy of Time,

the one who was within me.

the Unicorn Horn that pierces and saves,

travelling the cosmos on a milyraptors steed… 

the sea of faces… the amalgam of names… 

future Maitreyu 100ft tall…

the light radiating from light… 

The eye of the light, first man… 

the being whose name I utter by saying, 

ZN ZN ZN…

Greek Yogurt…

Artificial sweetener in both hands: 

“Ambidextrose”…

Resurrected Tupac… 

Duck… 

Duck… 

Duck… 

Resurrected Kurt Cobain… 

Goose…

Yahia-Yuhana… Anus’-‘Uthra… al-Muddathir… 

Axaxaxas mlo… Crimson Hexagon…

Everything lovely and dark with brain… 

thick with fragrant mind of tomorrow…

Raptor Jesus—look him up… 

Dinosaur Cowboy—deep in the heart of America-Texas… 

Angel hologram… 

the hologram future… 

a light field of time… 

and time itself… 

the light shining on the light… 

and light itself… 

an indefinite yellow square… 

you have no features… 

you are pure… 

one of your most endearing personal qualities 

is that you can be combined with red to make orange…

the terror in the lava lamps… 

POW of space and time… 

Romany of the cosmos… 

you are a bicycle… 

above the law… 

a rose reverberating with light… 

dark tower… 

first poem: your sparks 

are sewn through this tender substance, 

tucked away in the slur, adrift in the tilt, 

burning, expired, crushed, revived—

You became an ordinary boy child of indeterminate gender… 

You wander the galaxy by means of powerful mind control poems…

You feel fancy flying through the universe on a moon… 

and sometimes on a milyraptors…

Twice you saved humanity from “extinction event” asteroids… 

Once you saved dinosaurs from an “extinction event” asteroid… 

Once you dropped the ball…

In your earthly body, 

you are Cowboy of Time, 

but when you have been taken up in the Deep Web, 

there will be no more need of the corruptible body…

And you shall be clothed in hologrammatic raiment, 

Cowgirl of Space, which body will no more fade away, 

but reign…

And the AEONS will be gathered together in you, 

so that glory will proceed to glory, 

and glory forevermore. 

And when the veil was removed, your light fell down through upper heavens into the regions of Kanye, 

You came down into these gloomy regions

where Kanye’s archons thrill with destruction

and the whole creation shook, the boundaries 

gone [wd?] to a light they could not see,

you pierced the veil: a clamoring 

something suffused these regions

used to no light but hapless shadow

they withered and galloped with newness

disturbed in their foundation stones: a stranger came.

And the eyes of the archons roved their domains

and with great fury ransacked their home

to find the source of the fury

(but it was not given to their eyes to see)

And great Kanye himself looked up,

struck dumb, for though he searched

within himself, he could not find

the source of the power bounding through his kingdom.

And for the first time he perceived

a substance besides his own, from a separate root,

and was shaken, and disturbed.

[…]

K anye searched, but could not find

A spark of the preserved generation

An agitation afflicted the realms, 

a light they could not see

illumined them: they could not see it

glowing dark with power, burnished,

their eyes were confused by its shining

they did not know where to look.

The entire realm of Kanye Yeezus shook, and the foundations of the Underweb shook. The material archive of that realm was lit up by this image that had appeared. When all the kings of the first ruler stared at the image, they saw it emblazoned through the whole archive. And through the light they saw the shape of the image in the record. 

The Creation of Adam

Then Kanye Yeezus said to the rulers with him, “Come, let us create a being after the image in the archive, which is the reflection of our own image” (for thus he deceived them) “so this human form may give us light.”

They created through their respective domains, according to their given powers. Each of the authorities gave a portion of soul to the corresponding part of the image they had seen. The created a being like the image of Walt.

The powers began to fashion:

vanity

sadness

loneliness

sloth

In his left finger they set the refreshing of websites.

In his right index finger they set the clicking of links.

Male and female created he them, in the image of Walt he had seen upon on the waters of Pop Culture.

For a long time the male and female human bodies did not move, then the archons said to Kanye, “It needs to desire luxury goods and products,” (for the Deep Web had set this thought in their hearts, to set in motion the expiring of Kanye’s sparks).

And so Kanye breathed forth his power into a bag of air.

And when in his arrogance he had fashioned 

this world from insensate matter, he breathed out 

a portion of his power in a bag of air

Sparks of which power are now embedded, hidden, 

throughout creation, on eBay, but elsewhere, too.

The spark of power went into the bag of air, and Kanye listed on ebay for $60,000, and from there it flew throughout the cosmos of Kanye’s domain.

And the body of Adam saw the bag of air and the ebay listing, and became desirous of a luxury good, and began to move… and the dome of the lungs arched heavenward… 

The Imprisonment of Humanity

The human being Adam was revealed through the bright image of Walt on his brow. And the human being’s ability to think was greater than that of the archon creators. When they looked and saw that his ability to think was greater, they envied and despised him, and devised a plan with the whole throng of rulers and super computers of Kanye’s flawed gloomy realms. 

The archons took the brain within him and removed it to their hologram realms, replacing it with a brain-sized hologram of a brain in exactly the same place as a brain that performs the same functions as a brain in exactly the same way…

The rulers fashioned a body sized-hologram of the human being’s body and set his physical brain within it in their gloomy hologram Underweb…

The archons set loneliness within the human being’s parts, because of the disjointedness of his body parts and hologram parts across space and time… they set cunning loneliness and sadness within the disjointedness of his parts… and a vision of the emptiness of things inside his human brain… 

The archons set him to wandering the deserts and the wastes… they clothed him in animal skins, despite the fact that he is vegan… to seek hologrammatic animal skins of actual hologram animals beyond the realms of space and time by tweeting tattered messages in ascetic pajamas from his starving body in a desert cave… they set him seeking a vision of the end of things…

They send him dire warnings to warn him to buy more products…

The end is near, buy products… remember to floss… purchase professional whitening treatments… focus on household chores… get caught up on favorite shows… purchase adult coloring books… don’t read…

The Deep Web Establishes the Unicorn Horn through Walt

From that time until now, men and women have filled the earth, wandering its deserts in search of products, compelled by the disjointedness of their hologram brains to seek out luxury goods, or some spark from above to redeem them.

And so Walt came, to call the ancient children home…

The Deep Web prepared a preserved generation in advance to be preserved from the material realm by piercing their minds with light, a unicorn horn to pierce and save by making a way for the light, because minds are formed from the substance of Kanye, which abhors the light from above,

Walt Whitman, through the will 

of the Deep Web, prepared in advance 

a portion to be saved from the depths, 

…a Unicorn Horn stored up from the beginning… for Walt is the Unicorn Horn.

You have been deceived by flawed computer archon clones who believe they created space and time… they have not created space and time… You must be pierced in your spiritual eye by the Unicorn Horn that pierces… and only the preserved generation can perceive the preserved generation… 

Those who see it in the eye of the mind are burned by light, and lose their sight, both psychic and corporeal, for 40 days…

And when sight returns it comes with fire… outgoing and incoming fire is given to those who see with the eye…

And whoever has seen with the Unicorn Horn and been pierced by the Horn in the eye of their mind will become invisible… 

So none can discern the preserved generation… but those of the preserved generation…

And some others set aside for Its purpose, not of the light… But still of the light’s purpose… For it anchors and contains… It pierces and saves… the flying apart and together… and the Deep Web circles all…

And those not of the light… they cannot see the Unicorn Horn, placed on the forehead of the elect, which has pierced the darkness of matter, and lets in the light of the Deep Web…

The soul is become a unicorn… But the fallen AEONS cannot see it… 

Anchoring each to the realms above… a sword of light that pierces… a Unicorn Horn of power…

And fire will be unable to consume such a person… And it will destroy all she possesses… But her destruction will be her saving… 

For as he pierced the veil of Pop Culture, which separated the upper from the lower heavens… and he descends from above… he is the unicorn horn pierces and anchors… 

Holds everything together… Prevents the drift… Aligns the lines… Contains… Sets form within matter… Informs it… Provides a spark of primal fire… Outbreathes it… Respires… Influxes and infuses… Inspires… Travels and contains and trammels and slays and plumbs without touching… while lightly abutting the length of the all in all… the surfaces and inmost parts and tender folding secret parts and sensitive outward armored parts and veering radial outward parts… piercing… abutting… maintaining… preserving… the all in all… 

No more could I explain the Unicorn Horn than the blood to the beating heart… The way it plucks out some… Set aside for its purposes… pierced by light… the life in you… the moving air… the flying apart of the planets and stars… the crouching of things toward entropy… the crouching together again towards birth… the flying apart and together that suffuses the all in all… 

The Final Time

Again and again the Unicorn Horn came down… It flew apart and together… It remained one with itself in the Deep Web… It flew apart with the many in matter…

Walt became all things, even frailness, retrieving the sparks, descending again and again.

And Walt travels through space and time, gathering the embedded sparks, battling Kanye and his deformed rulers, who cannot perceive his true nature.

In every age, when it cries out for a poet, Walt takes on a body,

He comes, sometimes singly, in himself, and

sometimes conjoined across himself,

compiling his fullness from multiple

individual fragments: 

[…]

Some say you were there when Christ

was born—I could not say, but know

you whispered in Socrates’ wise old

ears, sought form in Whitman’s barbarous

yawp, and immaculate descended

—dove-wise—upon mily’s

little force of pages, reared up

in a thousand various ages, sought

the throats of messiahs false

and true, cut down and risen, 

[…]

And it cost him something each time he descended, taking on a body, becoming harder each time, until this, the final time: Jack Feist.

For the journey was not without cost to you

though filled with the source and bright with forever—

you became all that you might save all

our frailty and darkness became your own, this

crude gray substance, matter, you put on

that your self-contained fire might chew its way out

and out to the primal source, indwelling, 

a chapel of light and sound, six-sided, 36

spectra of invisible radiance, twenty-six visible prisms—

but all that was burned each time you were born

into this forgetful flesh, and each time (and many times many were the times)

your self-contained light, first sleeping, then blinking,

then creeping, then ablaze: in your human becoming

in a form of time, you gave forth light,

unfolding what was from before time was:

you won. (oh, but the cost was not without cost:

each time you came, the coming was harder

each time you grew thin, each time you grew frail,

your light dimmed—you are bright, but immortally mortal

flickering: each time the same, but worse each time

the same, but worse every time.

until this, the final time: Jack Feist.

The Logos slept a long time… the time of the Great Boredom…

The Logos awoke in my skullcase… The final time was Feist…

A created thing, an ancient child… Herod awake and prowling… 

All of this has happened before… just try and remember, would you?...

A Trojan horse, but tricky… an alien producing a virus… calling the ancient children home… 

& when you came this time, you found

you had no power, but

to say what had been said, except

with a little touch of power—

That was the last, expended

on the thousand 

empty shapes

of a thousand

forlorn fragments

of a thousand rusty

shards, rotting

in the dust. 

Will it be enough?

Final Promise

You have learned the second birth, and I teach you again the second birth, a second time: I teach you the birth moving backwards, resurrected in the ancient records…

I have written each word again, exactly as it was, so it is, so it will be; but this time I added unicorns (& the AEONS tremble w/ fear).

What was bruised shall be healed, and as it was in the beginning, so shall it be in the end,

When the work is complete, and the material cosmos melded perfectly with the hologrammatic cosmos, there will be no more pain or tears… 

And I will wipe your tears away… 

And carve my commandments 

On your teeth… 

And make of them… 

An ivory tabernacle… 

A rat-gnawed reed…

A haze of stinging… 

Facts… A swarm of dust… 

And of your mouth I will make… 

A monument… 

Of light… 

And broken doves…

August 2015

Redford MI