REALMS OF REASON, INSANITY, MAGIC & MACABRE

Don't Look Back

Octosensual is based on Timothy Leary's Eight Levels of Consciousness -  The  Eight -Circuit Model of   Consciousness  is a hypothesis by Timothy Leary, and later expanded on by Robert Anton Wilson and Antero Alli, that "suggested  eight  periods [circuits] and twenty-four  stages  of neurological evolution". OCTOSENSUAL TAKES US INTO THE DEPTHS OF THE OCEAN FLOOR AND TEACHES US ALL ABOUT THE EIGHT LEVELS USING THE SENTIENT LESSONS OF AN OCTOPUS TO IT'S STUDENT - A YOUNG WOMAN WHO HAS BEEN TRANSFORMED IN ORDER TO JOIN HER TEACHER BENEATH THE WATERS AND LEARN THROUGH EXPERIENCE AND OBSERVATION, THE IMPORTANCE OF UNDERSTANDING THIS MYSTICAL CONUNDRUM.  Photo by Malu Gomide OCTOSENSUAL THE OCTOSENSUAL BODY (based on the eight levels of consciousness by Timothy Leary) I sit here on the bottom of the abyss. Dark liquid surrounds me and I can hear her heart beating if I stay perfectly still. The subtl...

BLOODLETTING RITE Would you like to listen along with the author's recitation? https://soundcloud.com/user-381627803/the-blood-letting-rite-adult He knelt over me and kissed my lips before filling my mouth with the blood from his bite. I smiled with the stain of crimson red covering blush pink skin and teeth once shown pearly white. The bleeding had begun and I knew all the rules, nothing I did not know about this rite. He pulled my blouse apart, ripped it off with both hands, I knew this would be a blood-letting night. I made a quick puncture with my fingernails, then I sucked his neck ‘til I tasted the flow, A mark such as this would surely give us away and tell the tale we did not want them to know. He then took the fork, each tine sharp enough to pierce the skin leaving scratches upon my breast. I scratched deep near his heart, enough to draw blood, and I licked up the bleed that covered his chest. Slowly, he und...

THE PEARL The membrane fills with anticipation, moisture releases a sticky surfactant helping the wavelike motions propel the sensation, feeding the need; feeding the want. The agitator is present and has found its way into the fold.  She is unable to move away. It doesn’t take much time. "Let me begin.", she is told. A rhythmic gyration that irritates her gentle wings and creates a small sand like sensation. He writes poetry in places once reserved for the psalms, his devotions, his recitations. The chalice filled with sweet nectar as the muscles of her wings grew stronger to make her flight effortless, she is beginning to feel the loss of sensation everywhere, waiting no longer – a small bud appears and she feels the intensity where both pleasure and pain fills her senses.  He rises and sighs with a smile, “Yes, there it is.” The pearl appears and sits regally upon the opened shell as she lies helplessly shaking upon the s...

THE BALANCE I listen to the waves rushing ashore; the ebb and flow The rhythmic beating of life’s measured cadence Keeping pace with what must come and what must go Illuvial grounds preparing for a blessed nascence I watch as the sun arrives; lifting its light from the east We know nothing of our treasured reliance Reaping her nourishment, each day a new feast Yet taken for granted 'neath this unspoken alliance The wind blowing in from the north a harsh and stinging cold The solstice has lost its once grand appearance Long past its due, the season has now grown old Bidding the Equinox to come without interference Strongest are the many blessings now spoken from its mouth Hymns sung aloft now rain down its affluence Spring's warm soft breezes arrive from the south Giving praise to the passing season at its confluence The seasons have never forgotten their appointed course Each pushes past all unforeseen resistance We endure th...

When Life Becomes To Heavy - And, Lord Knows I Have Tried To Carry This Burden With Me, I Can't Run and I Can't Hide - So The Only Answer... Swallow Your Pride - This Day Has Died. SUICIDE There was death hanging in the air today Not just any death, not just any man, takes a bit of breadth to really understand The brevity of the situation here; the gravity of the speculation clearer There are no words to say, just pray. He left us when the sun went down last night He was in his prime, the panic clings, knowing not the time or by what means, Full throttle down that slippery slope, pills and a bottle; periphery hope Not enough to make it right, he couldn’t fight Found him lying in the hall by the bedroom door This man who out lived his youth simply could not forgive the truth When spoken by those ghosts; those broken souls he needed most Needs for so much more, pleads the touch they all ignored Death w...