The magicians

1 Jan '02 • Filed under mystical • Tagged: Poem

I wrote this in my early 20s under heavy doses of Robert Anton Wilson and Aleister Crowley.


Awareness contracts to focus
they say it’s not hocus pocus
to them it is just a thought.

Through invisible incantation
matter dances to mentation
the conscious rewrites the Points.

But quickly they lose their way
emotion and thought carry them astray
while the birds scream Attention! Attention!

They take note but never remember
“stay strong and never surrender!"
the fools never realise “I am.”


Though their words sound the same
each speaks from a different plane
they talk through entities.

Symbolic in nature
but disloyal to creator
they have a life of their own.

Gaze them at length
and territory looses strength
the entity is only the vessel.

Choosing menu not meal
they all stand and squeal
fighting for map over chest.


Aware and yet sleeping
no wonder they’re weeping
they believe they are one and the same

Yet many possess them
command and digest them!
’til all awareness is gone.

They plot under clouds
still “owner” stands proud
fragmented, he is a legion.

Hi-jacked he does not see
he believes them to be “me”
truly, a thief is at work.


Through all this toil and pain
pray tell; where is the gain?
A bucket of rotten fruit!

Seek yoga not blame
they all say the same!
change is always the start.

So come, transformation
from mere mentation
to the quality of a Willed Art.

They stand struck by awe
The Law is for All
in lust, the magicians rejoice!

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