Fellowship for the

Metamorphosis of
Reality

Frank Thomas
 Dark Tourism

just here it was they nailed him to the plank

( excuse me - a call from my bank )

and , in the box , a fragment of the wood

( yes , certainly , that's very good )

and this – the very hammer , would you like to try

( if you can pull it off )

but not too hard , please queue here for a piece

( a real killing )

of his own flesh

( yes ! )

it's quite fresh

2
 Self Raising ( II )

on knife-edge still

in spite of G's retaining floor

what must rise will

all would-be people now must heed

the newest would-be seed

of will-be

now people get to choose

( choose wisely )

3
 Ode For Us

alone
all one
one self

so rare in one's prime time

so busy is one with a b c
do ray mee
and oh , one two three

yet somehow almost always alone

but not quite all ways
for one sets down one's feet on best
friend's welcoming breast

one sits in her caressing lap

on her , in her warm embrace
i lay , and wake to radiant vision
of her indescribable beauty

small wonder that i desire

some time alone with u
of whom i lust and dream
my golden rainbow crock

4
 II

a young story
as yet untold
begins , with trembling murmurs
is this a word

i c ?
a scene as yet unseen
as yet unlived , unloved , unloathed
now unfolds

here
again
beneath a space

a story
sooner a bit slow
than hurriedly outspat
a gentle voice cautions
with knowing glance

once
upon
u tend to hear
a time
when stories come to birth

in labour
in love
in loss
in play

in life
( dolcissime )

5
 III

so u go to all those places

where i hangs out
and slowly
clearly cast your sweep about
to not leave any doubt

but i is every-here
u just be-hind
well-come

may i and u no longer lie apart

but , intuitively , intruistically unite
in fruitful
ui oui we

6
 Middle Riddle

what comes before and after ?

what makes the middle ?

what moves the whole , who'll who's

tail ? still waving us on

let not the pen move my hand

but my own will

motives come

many shapes

many sizes

think lucky

be able

choose own

7
 New Old Proverbs

as you move
you find your way

and as you stand

your place

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

in movement is well-being

in stillness wisdom

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

in speaking is clarity

in silence truth

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

memory is the mother of invention

dreams the fathers

8
 Papillon

bat pas tes ailes inutilement

contre la vitre ensoleillée

tourne le dos , quelques instants

à ta lumière adorée

remonte la petite brise

d'air frais

cease your frantif flapping

at the sunlit window-pane

turn aside a moment

from your sacred light

fly up that gentle

fresh breeze

9
 Vision

of little things are victories won -

a well dug bed , a coupletspun

when such seeding's been well laid

one may turn to other fun

???????

is fire free ?
does it not need fuel or else starve out ?

and water with no cloud

or bed whereon to lay ?

is wood free from bite ?

or blade from hand ?

or foot from Earth

whereon to stand ?

only i may wander free

from dawn to dusk

till sleep it

shuts

10
 II

everything has its way

our way , u could say

is moving

it's what we do
to live , to breath , we move the air

we are , prim'airily , movers

unless , of course , we are , prime (airily)

perceivers

frozen i's
stuck to frozen rocks
on the stormy shore
of molten 'motion ocean

no need to move
just , frozen , c what moves
( but cannot follow ) by
on the warm tide-breeze

we c that motion is our lot

let go of rock
feel i washed off
in warm , moist solubility

vol u bility
'round about mobility

see thaw

11
 Tolo

the risk is only slightly

you let your heart go lightly

and you let yourself go nightly

into twilight zone's abventure , where

hiding is first nature

biding time , you wait your

guiding dark star's turn

II

how would it be
if blackbird were E.T.

come to tell us
in such mellow turns and tones
of its own Black and Golden Universes

and we
poor noisy fools
refuse to listen

being lost
in the twin ill-usions –

space –
 the paired mirrors'
eternally self-reflecting
retro-spective

and time –

the well-spun tail

of self-tale's
retro-projection –

then
( dark-dawn's opening flower )

parasiting

now
re-projecting
until dusky re-turning
black ness

now

where was i ?

ah yes – illusions

ill us i ons

bad news

good riddance

no loss

13
 Inter States

Sole

slow-fast flat-fish

one cheek eyeless , bleached

pressed intimately into silty

sand , the other double-visioning

the darkly sun-lit turbulent

depths above

flow bones

sing scales

fly
tones

14
 Alors !

d'ou ?
pere et mere
sac de semence

terre , soleil , eau

ici

vers ou ?
qui sait ?
qu'importe ?

que vaut ?
zero

maintenant
c'est tout

à vivre
par tous les temps
et les silences

la parole de dieu
est périmée

(ça commence à sentir . . . . )

mauvais

tout a une saison

 II

as the old song has it

everything is beautiful , in its own way

so too , everyone is dangerous

in our own way !

any little thing may contain the seed

of destiny's ruthless descent

cross and crescent

their time is spent

pillars ?
let them fall

we live now
on the open ground

out of reach
of their crumbling walls

16
 New World

old Europe
( how old ? about Will's age they say )
now looks out from between

new-found land
and badly pumping well

dog-eat-dogdom's tooth-and-eye set

holds her fast in Canine land

every passing stranger

even friendly mail-man

worth at least a snarl , a growl

a snapping jugular bite

poor beast
neither wildly free

nor knowing peace

in new-brave-free-home

17
 Sap

greedy little organismy

me me me

thinks all this beauty

all this light and melody
is just for hesheusmeme

wee warbler sings for

mobile ears

sunset forest shines for

mobile eyes

breeze forruffles
dansing leaves
feathershairsskins

all forflowing
flowering feeling

friendly footflat earth

18
 Wedge-Word

pulley miracle
where meet sight sound smell
touch taste thought ( feel fear-free )
lightest touch ( a passing whim ) moves
mountain us words like hands on rope like
finger pointing like stroke stroking light and dark

19
 Song for a Tired Warrior

what happened to the famous rebel

have you gone to join the complacent rabble
has your fight become a family squabble
and your rant turned into a confused babble ?

have you found true peace or are you just hiding

form the war that rages on – unheeding
the voices , crying , of the wounded and bleeding
in your dark den , beyond all deciding ?

and tell us how do you spend your wages

is it feeding dreams locked up in cages
do you still believe history can teach us
the way to free ourselves from leeches ?

well it's save a penny , spend a pound

dig that hole and don't look 'round
don't look up and don't look down
your destiny is under ground

so come all ye tired warriors brave

and show the kids that you're not slaves
let laughter sing though tyrants rave
don't let them say you dug freedom's grave

20
 Tempo Libero

before they come to get you –

the driver’s drunken swerve

the hooded mugger’s shove
the specialist’s withering prognosis –

eighting , nineting
ever counting

let doctors , dealers

and bankers count

don’t waste time

on such trivia

quickly now

there’s still

time

out

21
 Hommage à un Monde Perdu

the question
flies
( on wings ? )

how many
portable interpersonal
communication devices

does it take to make

one moment of

golden silence ?

22
 Antidote I

when we are young and green and laughter's toy

shaking with springtime's wind of mirth , we sing
a breathless song of waking , stretching wings
to endless sky – wee drops in ocean's joy

now , who laments our fall – so pitiful

and our disgrace , sincerely or for show ?
but we should hate our pettiness of soul
our flashy gaiety , so brash and shallow

then , standing straight , above these sombre lines

sing , with rising joy , of love's return
to dance in our own hearts and light our eyes
where , like true suns , the fire will always burn

23
 Post-Script

half-forgotten words and dreams

suggest an abstract scheme

the moving scene

whose current act

i do

half-remembered stories and songs

accompany and recount

the unfolding

and folding

pages

24
25
 Seasons

the gate i made ( some hours of work )

is creaking

a drop of oil ( help the weather flow )

will foil the damp cold bite

stay indoors when there's snow

( now bowl , overflow )

time for rooting ( no cold down here )

soon must grow back

now bowl , fill again

a steady hand will bring you full to lips

II

as snow lies down in bright sunlight

refracted , we reflect
and reflect

accepting natural sense

down now i go
melting down

through sodden porous soil

to long a-waiting , longing-filled
rendez vous dans la boue

ma chère racine
you'll have a drink
together we will make sweet sap

again , and while we wait

lie embedded
root in root
 III

when fools lie down with other fools

the offspring may be anything

even that miracle of creation

intelligent life

just one refracted gleam

in the i of generation

would light ten thousand darkest nights

would it but open

IV

all systems stop

then we are easy prey

to various pill-aging
beasts , burdens , blacks and blues

so , even self must stop

release , renounce , refuse

releasing ever further

into total non-being

welcome silence

27
 V

the oldest oak

still dreams Spring

and dreaming brings her in

to his dark lair

where , together
they dream Summer

each of us dreams a world each day

why not dream a better one

VI

the centre moves

to receive the new

the old must make way

to thrive and flourish

the new must preserve the old

new roots hold the open door

old roots plunge to silent core

28
 VII

something creeps in
some sounding note
some tickling thaw
some brightening thrill

time's tilt throws you

ready or not
now feel your growth

when down
into the underworld
we venture for to go

a little light comes on inside

just to let us know
( you know ? )

that light exists

we may forget ( it happens
you know ? )

that light is always there

we just need to get out of the glare
of overworld

like star we are

come in
at nlght

at vision's edge they wait

for twilight to fade –
incoming dream

29
 VIII

coming out

had you forgot ?

that every year
about this time

i show again my beauty rare

to delight the i , the ear
and every other where

you dare
to feel

IX

can the maggot see the fly

or, if you are of more delicate nature

can the cater see the butter

can the pillar see the fly ?

30
 X

blossom

not me
just part of chain

couple or more links

up or down we both
pull-push-feel-touch-tap

neighbours stop there to watch

tree and branch
leaf and rising sap

coming in to land
on promontory dead twig ( last link )
with buzzing bumble

some don't believe can fly

my i !
hits it every time

sweet honey
on the breeze
hits every i

31
 In a Teacup ?

is it i
who swirl around
causing waves
and hurricanes ?

i am nothing
i is no where
i in tend
non-being

so

why all the fuss ?

about my

empt

ness ?

32
 Time Doll

dress it up in frills
fold it in your arms
imagine it to speech

twist it to your moods

play it in your games
hide it from your tears

break it in your boredom

kill it with disdain
forget it in grief

remember it with shame

regret it without blame
remake it with your flame

33
 Neo Fascism

my species right or wrong ?

all about humanity
centre of all creation ?
never was such vanity

think because we’re people

our way must be right
no need to justify our ways
and our way is to fight

jack-wheels at the ready

crush the wildness down
burn the jungle, dam that river
buld another town

call it civilisation ?
my species – such futility
rambling out of orbit
come back in to humility

34
 F.M.R. Manifesto ( § )

can't say i read the bible

so , what caused Lucifer's downfall
don’t rightly recollect

what differs angels from us

sods , free will , death
power to reflect ?

bearing light for us , did he see

more than he was meant to
did he suffer the dilemma

of day-bright dancing butterfly

which flower ? ( to choose ! )
all brimming , full of nectar

or of night-bright starry moon

shining soft on gentle curving down
of Eve's sweet neck

to lie down free on dewey grass

like deer or wolf , man or ass
to run , to recollect

each of us bears some light

so we may bear that name
without disgrace or disrespect

light without dark cannot be

which comes first ? ( you ask me
neither , i suspect )

( § … Fellowship for the Metamorphosis of Reality )

35
 Legeips
reD

if
bv some , as yet unknown
rule
( biding its Einstein
in the particulate depths
of molecular jiggery-pokery
not yet taught in any school )

the reflected
is forever lost
the reflector forever diminished
by each on-or-off-the wall
reflecting speculation

then
by any proportionate measure
we/e people
fumbly humbling
may stumble on
the glammering core
of curricular sanity

that vanity stunts

depandor'ise it back into

its heavy-lidded box !

to resume
let's grow
 Ami

the one that doesn’t let you get away

but finds just the right word-mix to say
the thing nobody ever wants to hear
that must be faced for us to conquer fear

the finger that will find the spot that hurts

and won’t hold back, but press right through the pain
to where , beyond the fog , the bitter wind
still yields to warming sun and gentle rain

37
 Utopia ?

when finally we reach the pearly gates

and step inside , what awaits ?
are we children in playground , or up a tree
just no hard knocks , no bully , free ?

no rules , no responsabilities
no reckonings , no discomfort , no debility
just all we need – to eat , drink and play
with friends , like us , who’d never ruin the day

otherwise , why , just like here below

fresh air , sunshine , green grass and trees
singing birds , butterflies and bees

the odd shower to make things grow

time enough , no hurry , no fuss
the only thing that’s changed is us

38
 Return Away

when time and space

life and death
have no more want of you

friend and foe both turn away

seem to say
go your own way

how , heart , can you refuse

such freedom
can you lose

the gravity habit

that ponderous
old bore ?

now , heart , i enter you

let levity
bear us on our way

39
 The Virtual Saint

Oh i am the virtual saint , the quality

of my mercy's constrained by reality
my goodness i don't doubt
just , hard to let it out
dissipated in some misaligned duality

Oh ye of little power or control

can't even say the hour it will toll
do you know the true cost
the centre you have lost
your root , your truth , your sky and earthly pole

while swimming through the sea of items and articles

you cling on to some hulk , some bunch of barnacles
and this you call your world
your lot , your flag unfurled
blind to shores , tides , sun , moon and such miracles

Oh i'm the virtual saint , my sagaciousness

is difficult to describe by mere loquaciousness
i see bottom , middle and top
i see empty and full up
i see good , bad , indifference and rapaciousness

Oh ye of weakened will , your minds are fickle

ye'll follow anything that gives you a tickle
the glamour and the glare
have hypnotised your stare
your best time spent on stuff not worth a nickle

while window-shopping in the web-shaped mall

the spider gets its hooks into your thrall
then , anaesthetised , you’ll wait
to be sucked dry – your fate
better turn back , jump back now , or lose your all
 Walkabout

out in the night

all pores open
all doors closed behind

even body-mind
evenly balancing windward
lee –
word-free

time-lea
time-full
time-borne

time-bound

time

flies by
swirls by
drifts by

hangs 'round
this ineffective hitching-post
commonly called space

recalling other spaces

long-acres

and
moonlit flowering meadows

41
 Frugality Blues

better stay poor if you want to be rich

don’t have to be a dog even if life’s a bitch
before you can dance learn how to crawl
& before you reach the top , better learn how to fall

if you find oil outside your front door

you better move away before the war
& if you find gold in your back yard
take it quick & run , impossible to guard

dumb rocks can’t talk , they’re precious indeed

but glittering gem-stones are a curse on our breed
thief in the night , come take them away
you lock your door , but can’t make them stay

better stay poor if you want to be rich

don’t have to be a dog even if life’s a bitch
rather than barking , learn how to sing
& before you try to fly better grow wings

42
 Speed

is atmosphere burning
and if so , how fast ?

smouldering ? glowing ? flickering ?

a flaming blast ?

Higg's boson and friends

spin 'round their big loops

head-on at the end

or head off , big bang – oops !

of course those ol' mushrooms

never did us no harm

temporal bonfires
keep us warm

( lets hope Higgs and friends

have no arms ! )

still hooked on power

the dominant slave

still hooked on matter

gravity's grave

still hooked on external eyes

in our cave

43
 Imp-rhyme

when i was in my primey little prime

an i diddent hav a dimey little dime
oh when I was in my pryme
i dident hav a dyme
an the hole wide worl wes myne

singin ile yip if u will so will i

& ile skip if you will so will y
singin i’l flip if u will
& yule flap if y will
away together up into the sky

44