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july 27th

grandma dropped her body

dropped her grandma body

her body dropped grandma

her grandma body dropped

body dropped her grandma

- Jimmy thee gnosE -

if you think this poem is about you it probably is


take y/our clothes off

E can feel thee rhythm

ov sweat

beading down y/our breasts

our roots meet

our crowns peak

the sacred geometry

is coumplete

breath in breath

blood in blood

thee sweet taste ov y/our flesh

thee intoxicating bouquet

ov entanglement

- Jimmy thee gnosE -


on thee palm ov our hands

(as seen in issue #5)


beacons ov light
transmitters ov k(now)ledge
relaying data
from our T.I.M.E suits
b(earth) suits
spiritual armor
furnished with our 2+3
this world is magical

though I.T. may seem drained
ov its vitality
I.T. is hidden behind
an iron wall
ov mechanized pipe dreams
and objectivism
perpetuated by thee
automatons I.T. creates
with our wills
with our skills
with our intents

let’s change thee wall
into a walkway
open thee lines
and currents
ov coummunication
ov coummunity
ov unity
awaken from your daydream
and dream up a day
worth living
create and be destroyed

be destroyed and becoum
becoum and you will
sEE that reality is frEE
but here wE pay a premium
for an illusion
I.T. costs little to stay
and everything to leave
thee writing was
never on thee wall
I.T. was on thee palm
ov our hands after all

- Jimmy thee gnosE -

a pagan holiday

thee pagans are alive and well

E witnessed thee evidence

with my own two eyes

E felt thee gods' presence

E seen thee shaman walk with thee spirits

E watched and participated in rituals

around thee fire

became drunk from thee dances ov



               and L-ov-E

costumes were worn to mimic thee spirits

that inhabit thee oak grove

others bared their selves to be as free

as thee wildlife and trees

during thee

high holiday

ov L-ov-E        nature        and musick

thee palpable taste ov

unfiltered flesh permeated thee air

salt and soil                skin and oil

silt and smoke            family and folk

thee musick could be heard

from three altars and thee playful voices

tickled my soul

my tickled soul

soul my tickled

       gifts were given

       riddles were rhymed

       and a heart skipped a         beat

messages of adoration

poured from thee mouths ov thee

              high healers

medicine was administered by thee

wizards ov thee woods

bliss junkies welcomed everyone h(OM)e

and E fell in l-OV-e again

until next T.I.M.E.

my dear Shangri-La

- Jimmy thee gnosE -

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