Magnum Opus (Nomenclature, Good-Bye, and All That Crap)

Author: Final Form Fallen Angel
Word Count: 978
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...man, was that difficult.

Hum, difficult, but worth it…

What is he doing?

Oh… HA, ha-ha-ha…

Ha… looking at himself in the mirror, huh? Well, I do that…

Hum… well, ha, can’t really blame ‘im…

...or myself… ha…

...well hysterical and useless indeed!

(He said, quoting Radiohead.)

Damn, he does look good…

But why looking so sorry?

He must be leaving. That’s the only possible reason.
I remember when I left it all behind… wasn’t all that long ago:

ii.

Wow… he’ll miss you.

I can tell…

The name of Justice,

gone the wayside

stood the test… that’s, till he fell.

Let the sweeping,

dust the time out

Let the sweeping clean the house,

but know the sweeping, intent on newness

forget the sweeping

this flame does douse

Know the sweeping new nomenclature

know the sweeping branches here, or

dust to dust and all is better,

I was little more than one that mirror,

Now I swear, that now I’m done

Not having fell, but having lifted sun

I’m finished, and but now I have done it,

All done, it’s now that I’ve just begun.

iii.

I remember looking out the window at myself, and thinking,

“Blah.”

iv.

But responding to this distasteful deign, he assured me…

“I would have been a moment’s glance
because I would have been just second best,
better, of course, but still pretty close, to, well
pretty close to everybody else.
How I wish I could have fixed me,
so me and me could have gone to mate,
Half with wheels and half the wheedle=,
half her crooked daddies’ gaits.
I’d have been a sexy child,
had I and I had time to sex
Had I and I had time to party.
Oh, that genealogical way to flex.”

I said to myself in reply:

“Apples too far from that damn virgin queen! ...
getting off on laudanum!
Aspiring upstarts! Blaspheming! Or even in religious fraud..! Well…
uh, at least, uh, plenty some..?

We will be drinking idolatry, poisons from Deuteronomy
overlooking counts of infidelity,
Baths…
but orgies-type bathing…

We will be drinking idolatry, poisons from Deuteronomy
overlooking counts of infidelity,
Baths…
but orgies-type bathing…”

vi.

“huh?”

“Exactly!”

(We spoke to each other…)

“Huh?”

(sigh) “Look, we’re going now…”

Lepers and leprechauns..?

“Beside us…”

“And Jesus will rise again..?”

”...somehow…”

(Now as one… but to each other…)

“A song? A sight?”

”...Ugh, right, right, right…

get it over with,
let’s go!”

vii.

Broke when he’s falling, and telling them all to keep a chin up
I knew it was time for my departure, of sorts,
exhausted, but no longer wanting to lift that finger, and
finally managed to find my own way home.

People will think I’ve chosen goodbye, but as usual wrong,
As usual the spouting and ever the reaching kind
a personal nomenclature, how do you do?
I do it… well I did it, all right…

No going, no showing, no bashing one head against this,
He is here, but not breathing
he’s a hit, but not missed.
He’s the token in the coin slot,
credits for someone else’s list…

Breathing, eating, loving, dead,
he is the movement of the moving,
he is the voicing of my head.
He is a’ streaking
he is a forlorn kind
He is the kicking and the screaming
he is the jealousy in mind

He is the new as much as old
he comes in stages and in modes
he utters words and utters nonsense,
he utters what I am, in codes

He wants the useless, and wants the needy
wants the needs and needs it all
was the Adam before the Eve fell,
he was a child of the fall…

We miss him when we go to pieces,
we miss him when we go to Hell
we miss him as he’s missing sections
Sections, rows, the Liberty Bell…
The care, the motion, that final place
Within his endless rash of reasons,
beyond his ever smiling face,
smeared forever with careless treasons…
those breaks in walls we try to brace.

Yes… though,

He’s not alone, don’t feel that sad,
he’ll always be around that bend,
when you let the mind address you,
when you’ll no longer try and just pretend,

That happiness is just a feeling
that sadness is another cause
That people speak and fail to listen,
or raise banners to the worth, because…

He’s so, in memory. He will stand firm,
his hand upon your shaking wrist,
forcing eyes to stay and listen
to, and even if it’s only this…

No one needs your nomenclature,
perhaps they want what you have to give
Just hope they care enough to listen
To give the bard a reason to live…

Yes, no one needs your right to speaking
they take the words they feel inside,
so keeping safe what is that best spoken
is keeping what’s not meant to hide.

No one needs your nomenclature,
no one needs that rhyme,
so make them see the relation to,
and let them see the time for time…

Make them see the names you’ve given
make them see the way you see
before the ashes fall to ashes
before the passions cease to be.

Yes, let them in and let them invent
and everything else he were and was,
let him live inside the cause
and know he lived for you because,

You let him in your nomenclature,
wherever from this place below,
for all he wanted was an earful,
before off, and off, and there we go,

before off, he’s off, and there he’ll go.
Off,
and off…
and here I go…