While Zin Uru is a character that I draw, he is also a representation of a Daemon and an Archetype of the spirit of Between.
WUDU WASA THE SAP OF ANCIENT SIN
(hum with the sound)
I AM WUDU WASA
The wild being
I am
the Forest,
the Earth,
The sap of being
The grounding of
becoming
The wild being
I am
a crown of leaves
From stone and
crystals
And decomposed life
I am
the forest Being
I am
the earth
He is
the soil
She is
the root
They are
the flowers
I am
the earth
we are
the seeds
You
are the ground
I am
the soil
The Earth
The Sap
The Forest
Being
I am
the wild being made from the harmony of decay and growth
The one who can tame
the beast
And trick even daemons
and the spirits of heavens alike
I am
the wild earth
The one who can dance
with Goddess
and rein in the Urge
of the Will
The one that embraces
chaos
As a release from
unconscious order
I am the earth Being
I am the forest
He is the soil
She is the root
They are the
flowers
I am the earth
we are the
seeds
You are the ground
I am the soil
The Earth
The Sap
The Forest
Being
I am
the face carved into
the tree of life
The tree that bled
the sap of sin
not original sin
no, no ,
that Ancient sin
That got us reaching
for the sublime peaks
Soaring for the stars
and building stone towers
on mountain peaks
I am
Sap of Sin
I am the face
I am the leaves Being
He is the foot
She is the hand
They are the breath
I am the
body
we are the spine
You are the bones
I am the
skin
The Earth
The Sap
The Forest
Being
I am I am I am I am I am I am
I am
seems to be a block
of stumbling
starting
building
more like stepping
stones
I am the minerals
I am the crystals Being
He is the sediment
She is the ore
They are the compound
I am the
rubber
we are the glass
You are the cork
I am the
alloy
The Earth
The Sap
The Forest
Being
Stepping stones like
blocks of
I am
I am
I am
I am
I am
I am
I am
The forest being; Sap
of Sin Wudu wasa The
Forest
being Sap
of sin Wudu wasa
Sap of sin
the forest
Being
Log in
to become Zin Uru I arrive at the Café in the form of a Jackalope. It is
unclear if we are in a design based on a dream, a digital construct or some
alternate dimension. Everyone there is a manifestation of an Aeon or a personal
Archetype. Zin Uru has travelled to the Café to meet up with Micromegas and
Philemon.
It’s a form
of sock puppetry
In the dim
corner of a digital environment,
Dressed
antlers and customized features
a portal to
a cafe hums rebellion.
Jackalope
manifest,
Archetype
of coded voice
defiance
etched in its prose.
(Chorus)
Binary
spasm, programmed prance,
Jackalope
dances in coded verse.
Trolling
and shitposting is the norm
A tapestry
of data streams,
antlers cut
through the abstract haze.
In private
rooms, glitchy rhythm
sparks
dialogues, encrypted chorus
that reveal
parts of us
that we
keep hidden deep
(Chorus)
A playful
ode, a digital trance,
Jackalope's
dreams in coded expanse.
Keyboard
warriors with borrowed truths
they cry for
a mythical insurgent,
soul-hurt
dissonance grow
antlers weave
tales of real resistance
To perform
a ballet from the crypt
Skeleton
bard once again
dreams cast
in lines
free from a
script or form
(Chorus)
Bone-ballet,
antler-play,
In data
streams, dreams find a way.
Digital
composers and activists meet
To write a symphony
of progressive avatars,
enchanted
by the jackalope's defiance.
No fire
walls or borders to keep them apart
In the skin-nexus,
bit-dance,
a rallying
cry echoes, a coded manifesto
soundcloth
of the fabric of dreams.
(Chorus)
Hare-code,
echo-ring,
In this fire
wheel, we dance and sing.
A
fabricated self that rings more true
Than what
history and society can see
a haven for
insurgent dreams,
a jackalope
in a bar that serves only code
resonates
with a chorus of rebellion.
Jackalope
stands as a glitchy totem,
a chorus against
conformity
(Chorus)
Abyss-yelling,
dream-flight,
In the
abstract dance, sprites are on fire
I grew up
hiding my digital selves
In this
realm of insurgent imagination,
I’ve seen
more good in the dance of daemons
than men
avatars and
archetypes entwine,
to reveal
parts that are hidden deep
forging a tapestry, of who we want to be
lines of
defiance, a coded symphony.
Soundcloth
of the fabric of dreams
LISTEN TO THE EARTH
listen
the earth is never silent
pay attention
the earth has a Will
of its own
The colour of intent of a flower
Listen - Feel - Sense
The hum of the roots a network of
trees
The
hum - beat - rhythm
the crackle in pine
a network of needles
under the northern lights
you can hear the electric crackle
through the pine trees in the woods
that share visions
of an ageless place
that exists just out of reach
in a possible future
and stretches itself back
into a timeless past
In this ageless ancient space
Our will
became a Being
When a sin was a gift
of change
not something to fear
When that ancient sin
made the first face appear
Listen - Feel - Sense
Between the depths
of foliage
The
hum - beat - rhythm
Fuelled by the sap
of the earth
something more ancient
Than mans original sin
Something more precious
and
wonderful
that ancient sin
but not as you know it
Something that brings us together
That joins us at the hips
and
creates life
Listen - Feel - Sense
The desire for a life more complex
full of possibilities
and change
The
hum - beat - rhythm
The urge that makes plants
grow flowers
and
yield fruits
listen to the earth
beyond the surface noise
pay attention
the earth has a Will
that drives it
colour – hum - contrast
shade – beat – release
detail – rhythm – blend
The will of the earth
Listen - Feel - Sense
Within the noise
a composition
The
hum - beat - rhythm
a soundscape of complexity
and
change
a composition
Within the noise
Listen - Feel - Sense
04. Pedagogy of the Oppressed (as
close to a love poem as Ism gets)
her blood
ink flows from her fingertips it embraces his apex as she grips his head what is your name ?
there is an
abysmal silence as her smile makes all questions evaporate
there is no
name;
Goddess rushes through his body and kisses his
spine
he is having coffee with Thoth and Horus
in a bar
where is friends used to never eat
she gives him
a moment while she explores art with Sophia and Aphrodite
what is your name ? she whispers , He shouts who cares ! there is no name
Freedom has a high price; the same as slavery
the
difference is seated on another pole difference is you pay with pleasure, love and smiles even
when that smile is dimmed by tears
is it the free or the enslaved that pull the
carriage of complexity
the black
horse breathes steam and tosses his head the white horse grasses and grows fat we want you to grow fat with promise fat with dreams
who has the
trodden road engraved into the sole of their feet
soul of
their feat
Free - dom
slave
- ry
freedom
slavery
such
polarities connected by the solar marrow
hands reject the other hands persistently
and
forcefully through space embers
burst into our solar tongues like twin electrons humming, oscaillates, in tune
continuum impacts freedom
cycle connects the dots of rise and fall expansion of the chest releasing air changing minds Freedom implodes
continuum into slavery this is the pain you feel in the illusion of
Candide
“all is for
the best in this best of all possible worlds.”
where the tears fall inwardly the core is
moist in the pain of Candide micromegas laughs in the curves of space too
large to see, to small to be
the dynamic
man in the mountain of the silver scarf
of comets
that move in
spirals along her outline
he wakes, he screams at the pain of Candide
he never saw the redness of her lips in the
shadows the fire burnt is hands as he fumbled
in the dark
eyes blinded by the light, ; the sun will burn you , the sun will blind
you the sun will tear you apart , don’t look , don’t look the first delirious step split the page
in half leather bindings flake from age,
canvas bulges in faded paint paint bubbles
on the surface
of his wood
the sun still burns the retina,
look into
the blindspot He arrived at her knees,
her lips were too bright
his hair in
her fingers she pulled his head up,
the brilliance lit through lids white noise
let in the ellipse widening, double
ellipse;
slits of
vision spasmodical dance at the brief touch of
her saliva
his words
were in her lips as the pain let go he
looked up at the light ; it embraced his flight departing from the utopia of
pain like a hacksaw at his old bones
have you
lived your life between the mind and the trees
A FACE IN FOLIAGE
A face in foliage
Etched
into the tree of life
The sap
of ancient sin
Filling its details
Burnt as incense
to blow
it’s aromatic essence
into four directions
While returning its ashes
to the earth
and reaching
for the sky
A face in foliage
Ancient sin
Sap of Being
Sap of sin
A face in the woods
Of wonder
and change
A wild being
of foliage
Fuelled
by the sap of Being
three hares running in a circle
a fire wheel
not as you know it
Not that,
instead
of unity and change
Of transformation
and
New possibilities
No, not what you were taught,
instead it’s
harmony and chaos
in a dance
That spirals upwards
as it soars
Though the depths
of the woods
A face
completely surrounded
by foliage
Above the Green man
three Hares run in circles,
joined by their ears
Running in eternal cycles
like a fire wheel
Green man has one ear to the ground
Plugged into the earth,
the other to our spirits
between worlds
Like fungi plugged in
to a neural complex
in the earth
Green man is listening
to a connection
that makes noises
that moves
between harmony and chaos
progressive
ambient
pitch,
pace
and hypnotic sounds
that can bring the mind
to a trance like
state
The Green man watches
Composing our impulses
into songs
for Fae and Fauns
While the wind hoots
through the forest of lost
perspectives
What is Being,
What is Thought
other than
The Sap of Sin
And a face
in the foliage
Of the tree
of life
ZIN URU HOOTS IN THE TREE OF LIFE
(Like A Hoot
) Woodwose Wudu Wasa
There is a
Hoot in the Tree of Life
A Tree
bleeding our Urges and Wills
The
inquisitive Hoot, Day and Night they Hoot
A spirit
that Always Question,
even while
they work away at their endless tasks
To maintain
the fabric of existence as they see it
A status
quo,
a stabile harmony
Hoots internally
Green Man
Dances,
Zin Uru
dances,
with the wild
Faun of the woods,
Woodwose Wudu
Wasa
The horned
and fur clad creatures
who dances
through cobblestone streets
in corners of rural towns
wearing
bells to ward of the real evils
that taint
our society
A Hoot in
the tree
Woodwose
Wudu Wasa Sin-Sap
The
inquisitive Hoots, Day and Night he Hoots
A spirit
that works day and night
To keep the
status quo
Yet he Hoots
Internally
Tree Hoot Sin
Sap
Sap of Being
can be with
the
one-is-all-is-none-is-nothing-is-everything
we see what
we believe
engraved
onto the unconscious
none-is-nothing-is-everything-is-one-is-all
The face in
the woods can dress up
as the ghost in time that you
expected;
He is always
your description
only the
thought,
not the Being,
can be with
the
one-is-all-is-none-is-nothing-is-everything
we see what
we believe
engraved
onto the unconscious
none-is-nothing-is-everything-is-one-is-all
The
inquisitive Hoots, Day and Night he Hoots
A spirit
that works day and night
To keep the
status quo
Yet he Hoots
Internally
Tree Hoot
Peak Soar Sin Sap
Sap of Being
can be with the
wodwose wudu wasa
one-is-all-is-none-is-nothing-is-everything
we see what we believe
engraved onto the unconscious
none-is-nothing-is-everything-is-one-is-all
Zin Uru Tree Hoot Peak Soar Sin Sap
THE FACE IN
THE WOODS
The Face in
the woods asked for a naked lunch
The Earth
she wanted to eat him
but was stumped by the thunder
in his voice
gave him a
pause
to look into
the eyes
of goddess
The face in the woods
caught the flicker of a light
in the misty
veil
of a Being
in One,
a Being of Change
free of the
Hoots of the Many
Green-Man
Become
Micromegas
in his palm Horizon
Micromegas
Who could fit in the palm of true
giants
Nameless Being larger than our
perception
Micromegas
In his palm Horizon
could be hills;
paths in the land
that stretched out
as his
fingers
they were barely visible
Can’t even perceive the shape
puzzling together the visuals
of his eyes
would take a
life time
mind bending
complexity that is
a small
brush stroke of his Being
The Face in
the Woods
become Micromegas
The mystery that whispers
in Visions has no size
only
relative
to the string he is on
he is who you saw
not what you can’t
he will be
what you cant see
but not to you
Micromegas watches
the earth
Dances with Goddess
holds her hand
A Face on
the woods
becomes
a being in One
a Being of Change
I AM
I am the
earth
He is the
soil
she is the
root
they are the
flowers
we are the
seeds
I am the
soil
Tree Bleed
Sin Sap
Ancient sin
That got us
reaching
for the sublime peaks
Soaring for
the stars
and building
stone towers
on mountain
peaks
Peak Soar Sin-Sap
Stone Tumble
Sin Sap
Sap of Sin
I am the
earth
I AM the soil
I am the root
I am the flowers
I am the seeds
I am the
soil
Sap I am
I am Sin
Sin am I
I Sap am
Sap of Sin
I Am
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