The Blackest Jester


11:11 AM - Dec 21, 2563


None of us can choose our destiny, Merlin.

And none of us can escape it. The love between Sorcerers was found in the shadows of history, and the fate of mankind;


rested with the just and powerful.

What Sets Us Apart

Splicker splendor; will yhouw ever enter.  

Does the rye in those eyes wicca or wella?

Where does thy dark soul of night ryde?

What is it that ye seekth in this sacred keept?

Have you cleft those zools beehindth in ye mind?

Or do they flower in the grave; as you misbeehiveh?

Förth frōm thė dēåd düst råttliñg bönės tō bönës;

thē shivriñg clåy brëåthës; & milk & blöōd; rïverzen rüsh;

ēchös; unåblēed to drēåm ...

Twas this the empty pages; spark of ages

Of my souls rest; that waited in dark

That warp time in due rum & rhymn

The Invisible worlds that evil can’t find

& ofthe true technics in nature that web nets

Sending them down into the deep steps   

The wake of myn’th own wild paradigma

I lay my cards down   

set out to free our minds  

with hooks from the algorithms of time    

To scream glory in your felt   

At your heels without face  

So all the seven seas

Bring me to my knees   

All love lost forever     


The Blackest Jester

& one day I will spit my lines in lime and blade

to the ends of flesh and bones across all they have sown

Watching, waiting; 

Never choosing now to save them

Where our rhymes will meet   

This step in meter  

The grin readers ol’ spella!   

This alchemical prose

That minds of the streets spoke

To invoke the holy ghosts

As patterns of technics prophets wrote.

Do you whisper to this screen

& see all the layers of meaning?


See those numbers

That speakh to all your being?


Writing codes held in time

Those Echos of all your rhymes.


Why does the love that I make

Turn into rage against deep state

Why do my bones turn fire into fate

What is the type turning in tech

Dropping like blades from slaves to fakes

Into all yhurw’re house of corporate make

And drink to time; free of crime

In signs of kind; echo’d in twine

Fathers & mothers of mine  


To be back in black;

no looking sad.

The burden echos in you like me

Angelic twin I found you in;

The Mirrors & Reams

All things between

To be at the edge of wonder

Not faltering or slumber 


The path is set     

Run, hurry be swift

Never was such like this    

Rejoice in this


Find your calling 


Satori generation poem