Saturday, July 17, 2021

Adam Kadmon

 


Adam Kadmon 
Strides across the universe.
One massive leg rising
From the floor of Earth,
The next onto the farthest star,
Myriad glittering galaxies in between.

Immense body of light,
Flesh of stars, flesh of space
Cognate and coextensive with the cosmos.
This macrocosmic body
Containing all worlds,
This macrocosmic soul
The archetype of all souls.

Primordial Cosmic Man,
Divine androgyne
Resounding in the microcosm-
Light year upon light year
Stretching upward and downward
From this vast archetype
In golden ascensions, 
One solid, endlessly reverberant tone
Stretching inward and outward
From this vast archetype
In golden ascensions,
One solid, endlessly reverberant tone. 

A vast interiority of sound
Swelling in complex harmonics,
Extending in vast overtones
Vibrating in the towering firmament 
Of  Adam Kadmon's frame
That encompasses boundless space.

The dazzling figure
Of the human archetype
With a gaze so deep
That all distance dissolves
Before it.

Wearing a crown of starry nebulas,
The Cosmic Androgyne's voice
A super-nova
Of the uttered architecture 
Of Creation
Rising in cosmic stadia.

Then a final stillness within the aethers
Where begins the great Ain Soph Aur
Preceded by the great Ain Soph
And preceded again by simply the great Ain,
That vacuum of pure spirit
Resounding with the mathematics
Of original sound,
A music of infinite quietude
Performed like an act of love
In the open palm of eternity
That holds the stature of  microcosmic man
Together with that of 
Adam Kadmon
Within dimensions upon dimensions 
Of inconceivable design.

To this human archetype
Speechless before itself
In the mirror of silver seas 
Of void and space,
I ask as courageously as I can
That this spirit
Of Supreme Primordial Man
Love itself eternally in me
And that our existence never end.



Friday, July 16, 2021

I Refuse to Submit

 

I will never submit to facial recognition

Nor to electronic fingerprinting,

Of having my bodily identity

Uploaded into a political data grid.

 

Not the soul in my face

Not the soul that reaches down into my fingers

To be profiled before the electronic surveillance State

As its programs calculate and determine

Whether I am a docile sheep

And without dissent support it.


I will not be led from the stockyard

Of a totalitarian society

To the robotic abattoir of psychic slaughter

By techno-fiends whose machinations coerce

The diminishing terrain of a slender future

Where humans are driven through networked gates

And down automated ramps to their ruin.

 

If it ever comes to this

I would rather starve to death

Or freely by my own hands

Die with defiant courage.

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About Me

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Greetings, My name is Jon Landon. I am a native of the San Francisco Bay Area. I I can write everything from Poetry to Technical Writing, I am a UC Berkeley Alumni ('88)