Çatalhöyük

Only in a stupor strange and dense, did they permit me

Entrance to their midnight druid ceremony.

Clothed in deerskin cloaks, they swiftly invoked

Ancient canticles of tempest-culling oaths,

Bound to footpaths mirroring the starry course.

Thence, the tribe decried a tale of dim remorse

Foretelling of the fall of western man, bound

To reason and logic: material world's renown– 

First, a man of vibrant-shaded flair leapt in,

Attune with other movements in the circle's rim,

Making peace with scattered winds, earthly entities,

Only to be extinguished by the hands of Industry:

A man of darkened raiments swept his blade

And shunned the rhythm of the mid-woods parade,

Smiting celebration with a grim, mechanical glare,

Contaminating harmony, in dire need now of repair.

Solemn intervention to revitalize the tattered ruins

Rhapsodically began, by the tribal feather festoon'd

Children, unfolding from the shrapnel-laden graves,

Bearing anew ripe, supple, imaginations unscathed–

Having, thankfully, escaped the clutches of Industry's

Mind-forged manacles, by their precious ingenuity,

Unaccustomed to any illusions of temporal durations

And domination tactics, dissolved in youth's sensations.

Enshrining the spirit of high art's endless creation,

Inspiration swelled, instilling Industry's disintegration.

It then dawned upon me– in my ruptured, disoriented state,

For unknown intervals, this vision gathering did I hallucinate.

Ode to Stanley Kubrick

       I.

Many years ago, the guest of

A formal soiree found himself

Unwittingly ensnared in the clutch

Of a tainted, mystifying ritual

Defying any league of expectation.

Like Icarus, darting skyward

In pursuit of ultimate fulfillment,

This ghastly shade of a memory 

Became the impetus of his final enigma:

The fruits of arduous, secretive labor,

Undisclosed locations; enthralling

Scores of code-cracking generations

To come– resulting in his untimely

Passing; less of a man than a chameleon. 

 II.

Haunted by his grim encounter,

Distraught from the sordid echoes

Of rich Tycoons' sinister cackling, he

Took to replicate their power-hungry

Profession: that of avidly pursuing victory

In the realms of Earth's political affairs.

Disguised as Space Race propaganda,

He cleverly ensured future audiences

Would themselves become initiates

In a cosmic ritual of his own: a full

Throttle leap through uncharted

Dimensions- becoming sentient

Star children. Like a gift for the

Future; break the glass, play film

In the event of techno-fascism.

  III.

Evading the hazard of America,

He made for the rolling glades

Of England, finding seclusion

To begin his spree of secret films.

In public display of his mistrust

Of the system, he targeted those

Responsible for the destructive arm:

The militant, asking what is a man

When he is deprived of morality?

All the while, threaded, embedded

Images evoking rituals and hinting

At their remedies. Knowing such

Encryptions are simply tools for 

Empowerment and revenge, then

A raucous fit of victorious laughter

Will undoubtedly erupt– not of

Greed– but awe-inspired magnitude.