As for monological vihuelas they fail to exist. Collective hysteria goes about itself as a fallen hypothenuse as curious registration. This being none other than Collective registration, or perhaps a proposal mechanics, or a transmuted cycle as in-cognitive mechanics. The old trepidations have suspended themselves provoked by a summary form of ether. To some observant critics I am simply extolling dark emotional delay, a delay that communicates dark emotional persistence, as if I’ve withdrawn to such an extent that I am condemned to aurally sift through aural phases. This is how my transmutation as bird as I haunt elliptical thresholds and patterns that haunts the voice with seasoned recrimination. The principle here being extinguished weaving by quanta as refractive mental wheat. What I’ve recognized remains a spatial yet scientific threshold. Perhaps equation as spell by stunning solar wizardry.

This is not mind you, a singular subduration wizened by implicate mono-energy pulsing through it but the vocalization of worlds that supersedes as human chronology as port, as dominant missive. Not sound as simplified transparency as judicious organics. When I speak of terrain as a sun, or a hillock in Patagonia, or the meta-dimension that is considered as motion, an absence of signs appears as a water so that it’s marking disappears, then particles of space invoke themselves as particulates of suspension like a mixture of synonyms and antonyms, scattered, burning, appearing to themselves as if they were other than themselves, so apparent tendencies cease to appear throughout living micro-suspension conversant with invisible galactic scale. Of course I am speaking at transpersonal scale, as mysterious, as eclectic energy. Because this invisible empowers the concrete the general source remains interior to the smaller source. Via this understanding one remains shifting protracted relativities. Of course the shift between Earth and sun, or the relation between diamond and galaxy, the shift that writhes within the remains of seasonal solar amplification.

It seems one persists by means of an ozone of fractals looking into nature by means of solar antimonies and this dialectic applies as energy where language breathes via organic fructification and local breathing by friction and  coalescence.  This being higher mentalisation as fuel establishing contact with disparate barriers. Not a peripatetic system but an electrified field where contacts proliferate as chance. Where the sumptuousness of chance empowers the universe through language thereby becoming post-Bretonian incessance more akin to the lingual telepathy of Lecomte. The consciousness leans more and more to the consciousness of transparency not only in terms of sweep of the mental field resulting in lesser and lesser obtuseness of the physical form.

I know from my own praxis that my body seems to echo a simultaneous parallel field not unlike a ghost quanta or parallel as prolepsis. During the last decade of the 20th century there were anticipation of psychic commingling with the seeming mundane and the transmundane, with each organism, with each nation of people, with each nation of people being part of an invisible connection who transmit as invisible sporulation transcending the Sun and its perceived range of value. Let us take the fauna that is Tibet, the activity and pigment that is world painting become co-mingled extensions of themselves as living cosmic environment by existentially living at cosmic greater scale. And because this greater scale is brought to bear it makes each detail more splendiferous, more telepathically impressive so when I speak of a brown-shouldered tiger-cat, or the essence and weight of a colour it better signals the specific nature of each phenomena as it escapes our conscious grasp, the latter all the while implying the endemic largesse of the cosmos.

To work at this scale of principle simultaneously opens energy sans prior characteristic to the scale  within which conscious awareness arises. Not simply altimeter via Himalayan mountain chains crossing darkened visible range being not unlike irregular rock beds on Mars. I am speaking of physical alienation as energy that implies physical alienation not as a code for typical haunting but as spectacular listlessness that partakes of the posthumous as approximate kindling. I know that the human world is completely capable of ranging within this state of awareness not as dominant exclusivity but as occulted ray engendered by teeming aural possibility. This is why I whisper within trans-rational humming, the aural being transverse optical field. Not simply nervous incursion, or stealth, or hierarchical disruption, but a level beyond this disruptive litany. These energies as Hawks and spores and flares being at one with this higher transmission. This foments my aerial voltage that leaves my imprint partial, occulted, statistically unsuitable.

My reading of linearity remains model of affirmative absorption. It retains in my presence the outmoded notion of the academic asterisk. At an earlier stage I took its form of reasoning as a form of universal approval. So I took it upon myself to explore the foibles of Prince Myshkin while attempting to absorb sonic principles of Shostakovich’s 5th symphony. It was none other than pre-planed exercise the projected over a scale that lasted 50 days. Yet I could never exorcize my psychic lack by these available means. All the while I knew this plagued as I was by my own diacritical consciousness. I had divided my own projection so that a portion of my animation become part of the Karamozov‘s, or epic portions of War and Peace, perhaps singed by murky flames from Quixote. As if I could explain these writings according to report attempting to justify my effort according to the judgment of the waking public. As if I could rise above the status of a riddled lecture in hiding. Yet  at bottom I knew I could spawn no report, I could project no scholarly projection. Yet instead irrational forms would appear such as Druidic Phraseology or dense conjunctivitis millipedes as if they aurally appeared through inefficient sound projection. A winged blurring that centralized its nexus around  a shaken aural strabismus. I was closer to Lorca and Lamantia than I was to any culturally imposed scholarship. I would sit in my delimited enclave not unlike a delimited beggar thirsting day by day attempting to procure psychic drops from imaginary lime. Yet I harbored self-scattered to myself. If a dog suddenly barked during certain forms of concentration I saw it as a sign against me. I prowler my own corridors with plague. It was a realm of unreasonable mental drifting.  I was self-cursed, I remained perpetually self-a-based. And to this day I remain haunted by signs that hover and attempt to claim me. This is not unlike sensing a sea wolf leaping from a porcelain shard having originally risen from stunned pagodas

The above remains a smolent reality not mechanically attached as a figurine attached to conscious interplay but as well connected to subconscious systems. Within this degrees I have tapped into stolen stellar water, into a maelstrom of stolen psychic water. Because I understand pressure as it extends from oneiric psychic water I remain sensitive to pressures hidden from themselves. The result being lingual fauna as impact. It remains an elevation above phenomena, a freedom beyond crude statistical leaning. This results according to what I consider to be oneiric self-allowance, one thus becomes a fabulous spatial leakage like flecks of gold as lightning within lightning. When condensing gold in this manner it remains a psycho-physical lexicon meteoritic with wattage. Not all one’s steps are centered but are non-locatable, splintered. Because of this I am no longer contained by prior or personal fatigue, nor am I riven by the principles of an academic zodiac. This remains sans mystical agglutination. What I am saying at this instant that I cease to condone the birth chart or any form of meta regulation. The Earth, the planets, the various abysses. Say I choose a plane that magnifies the Oort Clouds this becomes a zodiac ruled by imploded signs, by involuntary whirlwind over and beyond simplified despair. Casting myself at juncture simply divides being and forms for me simplified magnetics. Say the fifth sign blazes as an armada of dice the solar world reacts like lightning in my psyche or formations of smoke through holographic thunder. What arises is an intangible acrobatics treasonous to self-miming or fixation. One ceases to be structured by dates or provincial geometries or, in the end by accessible caesuras.

I can then in the end begin to access my own phenomena from tendencies, from spontaneous inner notions so that there can be no super-imposition in eloquent charting by fixation by a mapping by status quo. True, the Babylonians did know the being at birth had a magnetic or dominant tendency at birth yet this can never function according to static or fixed formulation as if the evolutionary or trans-rational fire could function via function as pre-planned irradiation. Life emerges certain facets evolve yet the insurrectional intervenes. No one life is replicate to another no matter how exhaustive or precise exterior analytics may be.

Perhaps I am judging inner alignment according to consumerist compunction or dictatorial facade. Because from higher powers of the mind curious bureaucracy self-condemns its own habitat that begins to structure a malfunctioning collective always turning by general  wont to the gross, the insensate, the impermanent.

Because the mind seems always grounded by the powers from a manufactured habitat, from exterior pre-approval. As example, say my mind is an astral frigate magnetized to a pre-created port, clouded by statistical rate, by median average. Therefore I remain prone to percentiles, where you were born, your racial complexity, in other words, your genetic composure points. For instance, during slavery, within the original South, or within the posture of Stalinesque Russian priority there existed this brusque dialectical dissection where nuance was slaughtered and grim collective analysis was super-imposed. This remains the Occidental model with its indicators fraying, penultimate with teeming social bereftness. Yet for the collective populace chronic waywardness occurs, a general listlessness occurs, spiked by transient fevers. This being none other than a future of condemned radioactive fauna circa 3182 A. D.

In far less than 200 years the starkness of the general field enters sans human interpretation. Disappeared, rotted squid, asthmatic kelp, continuing to lurk within a zone of in-alterable impairment. This being the zone of plutonium emblems as imploded field sans living aura. A failed protein form with its carrion lakes, with its fouled tadpoles and monsters. A legacy of remnants. Not that I am casting totalic aspersions on the circumstance by projecting egregious burial upon the circumstance concerning its obscurationist demise. This being none other than a legacy of figments, than insecticidal fractionation, with its absence, with its quantity of zeros.

The human race, now a partially incinerated field, as shadowy deficit extremely difficult to classify, based as it is upon projected perception. I call this state one of blind insensitive squallor, squared by mayhem and judgement, by preponderant asterisks that blind. Therefore this is not a state of mind rooted in current perception yet what I am practicing is the somnolent exercise of transmuting jagged salt and negativity. I’ve taken on this realia as searing proto-risk. In this context let me speak of the intrinsic Antonin Artaud who existed in front of the flank of this familiarity that attacked the forces of psychic incarceration with crows keeping watch over him. As for de-energized horizons he countered with feasts of laudanum in perpetuity as for conservation of wizened consciousness he remains for some the prophetic hyena of Mexico. At one level his psychic blast furnace burns with renewal, and on another the anti-media that continues churn about him.

When one crosses the threshold of one’s 19th endeavoring, to deepen the spirit of one’s nascent blazing, quotidian striving tends to go blank, yet one’s energy erupts as light from strabismus psychological lanterns therefore one strives like sisyphus to climb a psychic slope. Therefore knowing about his cataclysmic odyssey allowed me at times to extoll my semi-tested energy thereby understanding the power of its broadened outline. Alive in a western enclave on the western coast of North America I furtively emerged from 300 years of general apartheid and slavery. Thereby learning from Artaud at distance he provoked my instinctive power to linguistically gamble all the while feigning a symbol of positively approaching result.

I recall that my isolation was absolute, I was none other than a destitute poetic relation to myself myopic as concerns quotidian ideology, mystified by my own tension, by my unskilled summary of myself. Yet at the same time I was coiling about  a tenacious self-scrutiny. One could say that I aspired to complexity by the imbroglio of self-ruin. This was my dilemma of language always hoisting the code of psychic inner barriers as I inched through sunspots of blinding. This experience was none other than crossing a meticulous proto-desert where the power of suffering had fully failed to mature. Yet ironically I peered through this occulted phase of experience my inner anguish subsumed by rays that issued from winds and spiders, from that of the Sun itself. It seems never was I akin to the power that was Uranus or Neptune yet I was always staggered by aloofness unpredictable like an inclement hawk rattling around inside its own wavering. In short, I was a feral enigma. I knew at some level this was an abhorrent morphology where an explosive self-dictation was always possible.

Listening to a rare broadcast of Henry Miller one evening brought to bear the nature of this possibility. Of his odyssey of in-grown inner functioning and his clash with clannish monetary kingdoms. It seems these fiduciary kingdoms attempt to ensnare the nascent poet casting his power into an inoperable die print so that his inner paralysis becomes inoperable and catastrophic. As modern consumer one seems to never have existed, yet to vibrate like an underwater silicate alive as phantom solar form as shimmering transparency. Yet these forms carry no strict social conformity with its mores, with its encumbrances. As for monetary cudgles, or market driven analysis I have remained a strange adversarial pneuma all the while understanding frenzied nuclear counting, or warped titanium bodies created from minds warped as they are by carnivorous template. They remain as retroactive ganglia accursed with disorder.  Accursed in the sense that have never risen higher than the common grasp they engender. The latter being the psychic state that surveys nucleic cinder fields thereby harvesting replication as a warped form that survives as a-rhythmia. In a certain sense a superficial hydrogen compass always seeking to re-inhabit war in the form of what Joan Miró announced in his letters as common war profiteers. This keeling and storage of monetary receipts remains a complex layering, a quotidian spell cast upon the youth, say, in rural China.

Living is a complicated lair in the sense that its reasoning attempts to stray from the organic mental force of say, a spontaneous water Buffalo. Let me say, a moribund tautology, an inertia rife with Roman taxes in Africa, creates mazes sweltering with inertia where treaties with existence can never concur. Thus a bureaucracy of general intaglio burning with an entrapment of wasps.

So I am sitting aloof atop a charismatic spinning fortress reflected within a haunted group of mirrors. Perhaps this is nothing more than the mortal imagination certainly this is not the case but remains evidence of a scent that escapes from tense contortionist struggles. Entanglements retroactively seen through their disparity as despair. Not like an archeological deformation eating at a disintegrated optic barrier thereby enabling psychic multiplicity. Thus the mind drifting off into 3 or 4 discrepancies of doubt beset by a failing neural tremendum. Yet never on my behalf was there resort to chronic substance abuse. Never was there a form of rural feeding as in-malleable brooding. Never was there for me, say, the contestation between the hammocks of the city and those that sway in the countryside. Yet I do not wish to spiral away too quickly yet what I am specifying is living contortionist technique not principally at physical juncture but as mental applicability. For me this gives off an alien suggestiveness. Say in the hieroglyphics of a cryptic avian formation.

To put it in another manner I am both villager and dweller of Shanghai all at once prefaced by an indecisive eloquence. At one level as decisive in-direct application I am not tersely available, loudly vocal able to decide whether this or that is blue or why this or that has failed to make me angry. I can only explain that my mind functions via poetic anatomy and remains not unlike a galaxy. It is not a calvary charging, or a generalissimo in times past throwing severed anatomies into desecrated compost. Let me say that I have engorged by riddles aroused by a very distinct direction giving off states of future possibility. In this sense I am never settled upon a single image as I could explore a singular topic. As if I were pointing out arguing point by point a Hellenistic sub-equal decidedly stating that that Greek social circumstance was unequal to providing the eloquence that sired philosophy. This being  evidence stated by many earlier scholars such as A. K. Roger’s, Frank Fuller, and W. G. Tennemann understood the presence of Xeno to be squared with the unknown. It is by means of this understanding that I remain decidedly Egyptian as far as its origination and its original authorship via its founding Mystery Schools. Of course this is not argument simply to hear my own voice accompanied by ancient sistrums.

Let me say that the pyramids and original city scales were decidedly African. This was philosophy not clashing under the oppression that attempted to persist under the rule of Grecian warring city-states. The latter enacted a tradition akin to the principal of warring stags. As George G. M. James points out in his infamously famous work Stolen Legacy there was little regard for peace or study. I could make further force for this statement as to the why and wherefore of my mental lettering. I have never been wrought by opinion or tautological argument via the fact of its wizened purpose.  As of now it seems I plow vacuums like a vertiginous peasant ill-scripted and stuttering. Perhaps I am seen by certain modern scholars as say a mining scholar would point out an inferior grade of zinc.

Because I dwell according to hypnotic ambivalence my sound blazes not as sinister absurdity or sinister lingual effigy. Thus I remit to my explosive verbal pasture having no other power than to inhabit utterance, to co-mingle with mesmerism so as to emit pitch by soaring level as inference. This erupts from spontaneous navigational teeming. Much like an apparition drifting Shanghai sophistication and those who seem to constitute the illiterate. In essence some would conscript my mirage to one of charismatic plain-song or charismatic instability.

In closing the navigational sulphuric are always seeking to map an unbalanced torrent shifting back and forth its various invisibilities. This always casts me against the stream, against the ambiguous moral givens of brutality condoned by the accessible. Being beyond its accessible micro-archaeology I accept my civilian trauma as asset from unseen forces. Thus I accept the unseen as perpetual activity, as coruscation that kindles the higher states.


The Contortionist Whispers is now available from Action Books.





Will Alexander, Big Other’s 2020 Lifetime Achievement Award winner, is a poet, essayist, novelist, short fiction writer, playwright, aphorist, visual artist, pianist, who has written close to 40 books in the above-mentioned genres. Will Alexander is the poet-in-residence at Beyond Baroque Literary Arts Foundation in Venice, California and currently lives in Los Angeles.