The Embers Within Us. pt 2 / Antecessions of Culture

At dawn after a night embattled we mark that circle of
Stones for those whose skin now wears the charmark
Of my brand -
Firespark in hand and a fountain of slivered magnesium
Embers shower and cleanse their remains
And with them I remain until the sun is high
And the expanse of gunsteel sky still cold as it was
At midnights spent underneath -
There are whispers, the circle of standing forms beyond
The mandala of encircled stones here and there which mark those
Fatigued by their calling, fatigued and depleted
For all the while in this competition of godliness
Not a body is struck until it is greeted by the
Groundsoil, depleted -
It is an exhaustion of the will to bear the howl
And the arrogance of one which is the only
Immunity against the paternal forces which so
Violently represent themselves at such terminal
Cost -
Beneath soiled fingers the bleachedbone leans to dun
Beneath this grasp the microscopical marrow pores seal in sweat
And deform to a glassine surface shaped by fingers,
Fingers upon this surface witness me to it
My possession a manifest transference of
That identity which as an artifact of those who follow
Endow with mythic proportion their identity rooted in
Imagining me -

This staff is a month of accidence but carries potent
Meaning nonetheless.
The sparkfountain in my hands ignites the stonecircled fallen
And their dry bodies, dry already for the universal solvent of their
Occupied form has been sweated, exhausted,
And their dried bodies smolder until redhot and a reduced
Coal, bright red and like a chakra of glowing stone
Remains only -
Taking it in fingers which sear and scar
Necessarily I swallow the ember, it boiling off
My spit to steam and flaring like smoke out of
My nostrils creates clouds in the heavens upon their guaranteed
Ascent
I am effused in the sky therefore and the gathering clouds
Lick the earth as they condense and conduct beautiful arcs of ten million
Volts at amperage capable of rending bound particles wed even in the
Hearts of stars
Asunder
They lick the earth as they condense and so where was
One body before there are now
Ten thousand sprouts and shoots and mycelial spirits compelled
And also of animal egg and embryo and
Their destiny is my hostage even as they are unborn
A grip further confirmed
With each breath and coal swallowed and whole fields remains
Stretching as far as even an eagle's eye can see
But they too and their unborn young are my sustenance as their black cousins
Circle the field and call upon the motionless for their last value
The field and its fluctuating mandala circled chakra stones
Glows like dawn though it is truly midnight and
Darkens to its truer nature as the glowing stones
Disappear one by one into my throat through my
Scarring hands they are nearly stone but not even
Paralysis do I permit to stop this task
I swallow the people of the field, their whole
Selves in reduction and consumption and in
Transformative exhalation do I diminish in digital
Agility as with spirit with each steaming whisper
Every cloud a being -
 
   'You cannot give me anything I would not otherwise take
   Our trust a prisoner's dilemma -
   And I am troubled despite refounding the Earth
 

(Those who name it more elemental than that which with
 Breath like mine they once called to being)

Bring to brilliance most luminous the
Ordinariness of this fantastic equation of
Divisors and numerant participants -
On comparisons made among distant dark figures
Likewise swallowing stones aglow and dimming midnight
To its continent luminant propriety -
Are your motions different? Then so too
Are the names you use for your comparisons
And muscles once now scarthick leather
Motion ceases -