Poem of the Dead

The Shaman, Osiris, god of the Netherworld, riding death's wave of dark, 

serpentine energy of mortido, through the wormhole, reborn as the Sun, Ra. 

~

Poem of the Dead,

the Journey of the Green Man.

~

Do not be concerned about going to Hell,

we are already here in the underworld!

Beneath Heaven's dome we burn in desire,

and doesn't everyone want to get higher?

~

And so like Osiris in the Nether Region,

we must navigate our search for freedom;

through the body of an enormous Beast,

the id of our instinctual unconsciousness.

~

We are the dead in need of Quintessence,

magical Nectar for the Soul's remembrance;

unconscious water into Wine of revival,

fills the eternal Grail with a quantum Wavicle.

~

My inner Shaman now embodies the process,

by way of egocide I energetically undress;

back to my bi-cameral past, id and Ideal; 

catatonic, devoid of drives once used as fuel. 

~

Matrix of the Mother, the Rock at Bottom,

the Prima Materia, primordial Mind~Womb;

where I suffer dismemberment and catabolism,

my Shaman is atomized into dissolution.

~

Black into white ashes of albedo calcined,

the process continues to fire-forge a Child;

until the metallic Homunculus shines forth,

three-in-One Star of the Tria Prima reborn. 

~

I must put on the id of my animal spirit,

the final gasp, mortido, of the death instinct;

Bennu Bird, the red Phoenix to resurrect,

Quetzalcoatl of the feathered Serpent.

~

Take the unconsciousness of the Green Man,

the vegetation god in need of a change,

hermetically seal him in the vacuum Mind,

meditational deprivation of the Buddhist kind.
~

Osiris undergoes death and resurrection,

in order that his Spirit can rebirth again;

the dark night of id rising to the Ideal,

my ancient bi-cameral mind to heal.

~

I find myself in the great Hall of Judgement,

the Void of emptiness, abyss of Sunyata;

here the mind is weighed in a vacuum,

testing my hermetic seal, Helmet of salvation.  

~

Mental matter will weigh me down again;

emotional waves are heavier than Holy Wine;

earthen instincts of the id crystallize Salt;

and fiery intuition bakes me into Bread.

~

Now the Test of Metals is completed,

where all unconscious baggage is measured;

my Conscience is clear, my Heart unburdened,

weighed against the feather of a Sun-Serpent.

~

And so the Blood~Moon ends the digestion,

of good and evil knowledge in separation;

she joins with the Sun in alchemy's wedding;

Pan's earth panned into Gold now shining.

~

 

From Splendor Solis (16th century),
Adam McLean's alchemy website.
~

"Luna gives birth to the Red King,
the sum of all perfection, the Stone
itself, whose golden orb and sceptre,
robe of royal purple and golden aura
proclaim his absolute majesty."
Francis Melville.

~

Pan, Mercury, and Sol; creating the Quantum Solid,

an Individual Egregore or New Skin memBrane.
~
My rendition of the wild Pan, panning for alchemical Gold with the
Moon-Crescent (Mercury), in the spirit-stream of life's unconscious waters.
~
"Luna is really the mother of the Sun, which means, psychologically,
that the unconscious is pregnant with consciousness and gives birth to it."
Carl Jung (Mysterium Coniunctionis).
~

(part II)

The Great Hall of Judgement.

Conscience, Heart and feathered Light.

~

I've reached the Hall of Judgement,

the vacuum Chamber of Wisdom;

Sunyata, Buddhist No-Mind of emptiness,

alchemical Salt of a clear Conscience.

~

Mental matter will weigh me down;

emotional water pollutes Holy Wine;

instinctual earth stains crystal clarity;

fiery intuition burns impurities.

~

And so even smoke fails the test,

elemental fire must burn itself out;

three Metals pass, our Tria Prima:

refined Salt, red Mercury, fixed Sulfur.

~

My hermetically sealed memBrane,

is the Helmet of eternal salvation;

the Observer collapses lower waves,

guards well the Double-Slit entrance.

~

Water into Wine flows on through,

higher Wave of alchemical Dew;

unburdened Heart of enLovenment,

quantum Wavicle of a Liquid~Stone.

~

The Grail-Mind is full of Wine,

Moon~Blood gives birth to her Sun;

Light is lighter than Maat's feather,

a Sol like Soul who lives forever.

~

My libido succumbs to dark mortido,

but even death suddenly implodes!

The Solarization of id becomes Ideal,

behold the countenance of thySelf. 

~*~

The Feather of Maat.

(part III)

The Death of Death!

~

I'm "stuck" in the ebb of egocide,

my catatonic instincts must implode!

This "freeze" reaction I must undo,

so that mortido, death, dies too.

~

My Shaman suffers disintegration,

down the wormhole of dismemberment;

into the great Judgement Hall,

the abyssal Void inside us all.

~

My Observer must collapse death,

like I did to libido's flow of life;

for both maintain the separation,

two sides of the lower wave function.

~

I no-longer flee into life's world;

nor fight myself to conquer fear;

now the freeze response must melt,

as I sacrifice my animal instincts.

~

Apis, the Bull of surging virility,

on the altar of Mithras I slay;

holy Wine pours into the Grail,

my catatonic freeze now implodes!

~

The Observer collapses life and death,

the Moon turns to Blood at last;

Sol Invictus rises from the Underworld,

wields the Point of a Wavicle.

~*~

Mithras slays the Bull of instinctual life and death.