On the Liberation of Angels

Will Alexander, Poet and Essayist: A Special Section

“This thirst for interior volation, for fiery neural speech, for taction which leaps beyond our protoplasmic ranges, which allows us flight beyond gold, and we mean by gold niggling perceptual gold. Our motion now honed to a quest for ascending shattered brimstone mountains, with their angels wavering beneath a flashing purgatorial sun, starved for poetic paradox and enigma. We are flying to these brimstone mountains to poetically liberate angels, to open up a new invisible vulcanism, so as to restore to their powers the fruit of perpendicular voltage, to restore to their substance a cosmic Pantaraxia, which will alchemically accrue incident after hypnotic incident. And so our process, cooking away brass from the voice, so that all the gravity in its sound is weakened to magnetic deletion. We then conjurate by molten, by telepathic flamelet, casting spores of discharge into the scope of the angels, thereby allowing them feracious flight above mirage, above the edicts of diacritical ambulation.

First, a casting of verbal dice, then transmundane orations, transmuting the force of our flawed cranial tonnage, so that new electrical forms are released, and by forms we are speaking of simultaneous identity, of the voice of the poem and the angels, fused, all imprisoning electricity then scattered into new unpredictable apogees, so that, by the cracking of phonemic mirrors an access will have formed between the angels’ typhology and our deepening verbal prisms. And what will rise above our incandescent rapport will be a beautiful oblong mirror, crackling with preternatural iridium, filled with scenes of transparent symbiosis, of enigmatic quest, alchemically rising above a hindering algolagnia. No, not a binding dysphonia, nor a repetitious struggle spawned by the strain of a smoky Piscean dialectic.

Yes, we’ve declared our intent with explosive minarets, within the ignited fact of housed lightning and power. Again, our declaration being concerned with the voltage of angels, with their volts of obscure spectrums, because, to respirate at such strenuous pitch we must continue to mine from our forces inclement labyrinths, to cull from our depths seeming sigils of failure, thereby allowing us entry through shafts of invisible nephology. We then commingle with a fiery neural magic, where gulfs are suspended, where the angels will commune with our strikings, both, as winged collective, as well as singular manifestation. And this communion based upon the momentary dictates of the alchemical life of the language and the explosive metrics that it casts.

Me, the climber, doubled in unus-ambo, verbally flying up the Piscean brimstone mountains, attempting a higher symbolic, no longer subject to accessible definition derived from the Greco-linear pundits concerning my mortal contamination with pervasive Cacodemonia.”

A Glossary

Pantaraxia: Alertness

unus-ambo: “. . . a counterpart, a heavenly ‘partner’, which partakes of a ‘polar’, or ‘transcendent dimension.’”

Cacodemonia: A state of mind in which a person believes he or she is “possessed by an evil spirit.”