And the lamb awoke to empirical thunder,
zirconium eyes wide open, blazing their lazuli
And so it begins, lamb stamps its holy hoof,
an earthquake hits and the first seal it splits
Terrifying realisation, that John the Revalator was true,
A time shattering voice it spoke, Come and see!
An echo manifestation within the dalliance clock,
equus of snow, nuclear winter bound
Words and actions of Hiroshima fire,
turning people to kyanite shadows on the ground
And the second seal was torn asunder,
the atmosphere filled with a Hendrix haze
A swirling morass mixed by the hands of confusion,
trapped within the wheezing endurance of suffocation
Giving birth to Earth’s renewed decay scented abortion,
blood beast rider surging scarlet across the moraine
The turgid air cut by the mane’s flowing pestilence,
the land of Siena Brown left in the wake of its desolation
Infections spread with indiscriminate perfection,
as cities became a still blanket of millions slain
And the third seal was languidly revealed,
bringing forth a dehydrated pool of lifeless ink
Ochre sand pours over emerald green fertile lands,
as roots wither to the unromantic kiss of drought
Everything now far from sublime, everything now is dying on the vine,
The obsidian canters through the fields and hills
No more harvests of the abundant, cadmium blue scales forever light,
malnourishment that schwarze starvation always yields
Match heads burnt out, all wrapped in hunger’s chains,
crystallised calcium formations, blow without refrain
With a snapping crack, went the fourth, Pegasus strode dressed with frame baroque,
gilded with supernatural acanthus, It’s blooming irises formed of majestic plaster,
the speech of a rotten man strikes hard, now it lays inanimate on the ground,
in the background chaotic fire is burning, as the ghost stallion stretches out from foreground etched,
Expiring, Pegasus said: “You shall wither to nought, because you are unlike the Churches,
they are mute with wisdom: they know flags of coal hang today,
and tomorrow tricolours will fly, you have offended the one unseen, and because of that you will be blind”
I shall dong the bell of the trio, I will pluck the harps and harpies, and now awaken the clink of the spoon in the glass.
Buccephalus, Marengo and Comanche fell beside, only a mare of Mongolian origin and appetite remained,
devouring scrambled eggs, ale, Coke, and even poker chips, she consumed almost everything under the vault of heaven.
And the pentagram seal set ablaze and became amethyst dust,
coffee cups with Jehovah written on them spilt and formed puddles of the pious,
Winter, summer, spring and autumn melded as one abomination,
freezing heat contained inside simultaneous, continuous, expiration and regeneration,
A jackal smiled and a baby died, parents consoled themselves by sniffing glue,
a leper yelled we “We do not need the judgement of Yahweh, we can judge ourselves well enough!”
He promptly turned to Human soup, whilst blood flowed north with magnetic polarity precision.
Frankincense groups gathered like diarrhoea, demanding cornflakes, anal fudge and restitution,
El Greco robes of sympathy were doled out, as time was reduced to patience,
now they await the arrival of festering brethren heads in baskets, for the organ harvest festival
And the sixth seal was sliced, Abaddon stepped out of the sea of rage,
he was ridden by the faceless Medusa, and his flaming nostrils licked at the world,
Abaddon travelled the globe, accompanied by the wind that waved the tangled curls of senseless jellyfish,
under the curls of the Beast was engraved the name King Sumer, cursed Sumerian with all linguistics ergative,
Then came engulfing fire, rivers of blood and the stench of death,
as Fiji, Hawaii and Pompeii spewed their inner ejaculates,
the magma fell through the cracks in the crusted core,
and the ceremonial trumpet Pu was played, until the living dead could blow no more,
one candle was left to blaze with a pale flame and cause blindness,
mustard flames were stubbed out under the vault of heaven, leaving behind death and famine
Sixth seal part two
Medusa smiles shamelessly, projecting natural shyness, it is all but a feign,
chameleon snake, and chameleon Abaddon masked in human flesh,
Abaddon resembled an Angel of light and languidly flew away,
pouring a glass of rattlesnakes and moths into the lake of fire, lifting Medusa on his back, directions came from heaven:
“Measure the milk, put it on the flame just to warm it up, it must not boil. Put warm oil, yoghurt and egg in the warm milk.
Mix the liquid ingredients dry, form a soft, fine, non-sticky, pliable dough – Or dough, the oil will not be.”
Then giant cockroaches of questionable gaze and bloodshot eyes, cruised the oceans and the continents,
in jack boots, together with the desert locusts, then they set about their gnashing dance
They destroyed Kenya, Somalia, Ethiopia, Sudan, Djibouti and Eritrea. And everything on earth expired.
Then they went blind, running in their despair, lest they encounter some beast, or human being.
And when he split the seventh seal, the earth was surrounded by great silence and not much time passed before the illusions began.
Then the sea organ and labiums played, and the thirty-five pipes under the stone framework produced a melody, in such a way that the waves inflated them with air.
And then a unicorn came to all the people and took them all on its back,
to taste the water of the enchantment, the Omaja- the water that splashes from the mill wheel, when the wheel rotates.
So the blind survived, they celebrate the day when the Unicorn came and they gather in its honour, they worship him devoutly, and above all,
spend cash and spill incense. They fornicate alone with the Unicorns holy fire and holy light.
And the anti social jellyfish sailed into the fire of hell, and the light of heaven descended on the Earth and a great fair began.
The Unicorn in flight kicking through the air, descends slowly falling into a whirlpool towards the earth,
the Unicorn spoke and farted at the same time, the Earth became crazy paved like an egg that had been discarded in Autumn’s solitude,
the retching began as ointment was applied to bursting piles, a conversation took place, but there were no words for it
The eighth seal fizzled ajar, the inadequate bronze of the drunken battery thundered, the trumpets sobbed their wail frustration,
the company roared, and the men in black rode a white horse with hooves like a goat or a deer,
they are the hooves of a boxer, not the hoofs of a spear, and those riders will humiliate the nations of his enemies,
he will break their bones and pierce them with his succulent arrows, that fresh young unicorn.
Then he cursed human dwellings with the words “Our house is cursed, sick, hell!
And there is no day of God, when the blood would not spill out of the new wounds.”
And he was ridden by shadows that came out into the world, staggering in a trance,
followed by people with torches, if they were even people at all.
They spun in a circle and sang, wiping futile tears and falling to their unworthy knees before the invisible god.
Night is flowing, sleep is flowing, waking … Waking up would burn for a little while longer. Then trouble. Misery and shadows.
Eighth seal part 2
A pregnant woman arrives, dressed in a church robe. She lays her body down on the royal pedestal draped in gold, draping her heel into the floor.
Her eyes were piercing, like lighted Aegean torches around Lesbos as the light rushed into the shadows, in a playful hypnotic dance,
Like water whipping the shores of the sharp-toothed island of Lesbos, the pregnant woman is a paper dragon on a golden thread,
she goes into labour in a raging sea of thin, blackened blood, to which the Church and gleaming celluloid vehicles and cathode-ray rockets responded,
and they all stared at the distant corrupt, putrid stone temple,
a new manifestation of cruelty under the robe of repentance, this temple now trembles with cascading inner wrath,
and the pregnant woman surpassed the others with her height, rising like a canyon so spacious,
mad with arrogance, like a ship with outstretched sails, an Edwardian-style outfit, with the menacing gait of a tortured figure.
It was as if she had been trying to kill herself since the Bronze Age.
A snake tattoo appeared on her back. And the woman wet her hands and immersed them in the sea and played the hydraulophone.
And the ninth seal vanished into thin air. Now it rises on Sunday night after sunset over the Adriatic mist and low clouds, observed from the top of Kiza in Dabarski
Kukovi on Velebit -A dried blood polar bear along with a beast in the shape of a Mad Horse, but with a beak, a deformed sea horse that none could have imagined,
and the churches betrayed the pilgrims and the great fair was visited by death, with accumulations of puss and subcutaneous carbuncles,
respiratory infections, rat fleas and buboes and viruses. Zombies and skeletons danced, rotting within the rotten of their poor flesh,
Now: the ruin of the flesh disease, the virus and the coronation of the Dragon, eyes like two dead black flowers and everything burns to ruin.
Dead eyes become the night, flesh turns into base atoms, flowers vein, hands droop, hands die to a heavy rhythm, Naked bodies dance in despair, to the danse macabre.
And as they danced around the golden calf, so they danced around the lamb’s shoulder,
with which they served a corpse flower salad as an addition to the turmeric scented meat
And the neutron bomb fell on all living creatures and crushed them in a cataclysm, and as the sun plunged into the sea,
darkness descended on the world as on the land of Egypt, only the black voices of the wind play the shadow game of echoes, from within the darkness still
This is the land of Basil the second and the belasitza of darkness, and the ball is burning.
With peace and darkness, the lights shine with dark sorrow,
your voice, is the voice, that is voiced, in a loud amplified voice. And there is no one on this galley,
to break the masts, alas on the ground, last person standing, upright in a one eyed herbal scarecrow’s soil
there is an echo of hope, that the last woman on earth shall play the Russian balalaika,
the sun giggles burlesquely, and touches the strings of this fiery instrument, I hear you now, I hear your voice
The words and music terraform the marble, using the fertiliser of desolations twisted rooted teeth,
all that is endothermic and exothermic come together like the beast with two backs,
Zarathustra also spoke like a psychic from beyond the grave, now the last woman Lucy, proudly lifts her arms like an obilisk raised,
Windscale in her hands, with miniature fissions wrapped in fusions, and inextinguishable amaranthine flames
(Windscale by the way was the name of our nuclear power plant before it got changed to Sellafield.)
©® Leila Samarrai