"A few Of The Things I Know About Her" by Robert Anton Wilson
i know that she forever grows more loveable as i understand her better;
And that she forever grows more understandable as i love her better.
I know that she is incarnate, a living prescence, Anna Livia Plurabella, in every living creature of us, including the peple i can't stand; Which shows her incredible humility and her fantastic sense of humour.
I know that she has time and time again ravished me entirely with her beauty, so she is the supreme artist; And i know that she forever transcends my understanding, so she is the supreme intelligence.
I know that she inspires the bard who sings to me, and that he is her priest; And that i am only the local transmitter through which he broadcasts his eternal adoration for her.
And i know that i adore her, my Babalon!
I adore her, my dark-eyed Nu!
I know that it is the supreme glory of my life that she has manifested herself to me, sometimes for hours on end, once even for two weeks; But she has manifested herself most truly in those brief moments when i have been annihilated entirely in her.
I know that i can love her best through one woman, but there are other paths for other lovers of her.
I know that although she seems fickle and arbitrary at times, she is only so in my narrow egotistic view of things at the moment, and that i have understood her, and loved her best in those moments when i accepted her total perfection without question.
I know that she is my compliment, my other self; And that she is a ll the fiery intoxication that draws me out of my narrow self into eternal striving towards her perfection.
And i know that i adore her, my Babalon!
I adore her, my lion-lioned Nu!
I know that i only know a few things about her now, but i am lucky beyond belief, for once i knew nothing about her.
I know that she loves me with as fierce a passion as i love her. But she is sometimes promiscuous and loves all her lovers that way.
i know that she is in the stars and in beetween them, and in every sentient mind.
I know that all her lovers go mad, by the judgement of this world, but this is flase, for it is the world that is mad, and deranged, and besotted in grief. Because it does not know her.
And i know that i adore her, my Babalon!
I adore her,my mother Nu!
I know that she is beyond metaphor, beyond speech, beyond thought. But she is radiantly sane and simple in her heart.
I know that she is happiest of all, because she loves all; And she is wisest, because she is drunken in her ecstasy of creation.
I know that she is in the dance, because she is dance.
She is in the movement of the stars, and in the astronomers equations, for she is the mother, not the daughter of order.
I know that she is feared and comes as the nightmare into the minds of all those who are without love; But she is forever gracious to those who sing to her, and cry out to her, and moan to her, and repeat endlessly in their hearts;
I know that i adore her, my Babalon!
I adore her, my soft-fleshed Nu!
I know that even though my heart may sing with the ecstasy of her, and my brain whirl with the mystery of her, one part of me will live in misery forever until i am entirely lost in her.
I know that even though my heart may sink with despair , and my brain stop with confusion, one part of me will be joyfully understanding forever, because i am not truly seperate from her.
I know that she is beyond intelligence, beyond emotion, beyond intuition; I know that she is drawing me beyond intelligence, beyond emotion, beyond intuition.
I know that i am enslaved and enraptured and destroyed by her again and again and again, until my words die in my throat and i can only moan as i try to repeat.
I adore her, my Babalon!
i adore her, my hot-tongued Nu!                                 

Sublimation

The poet through his eyes sees the beauty of the rose, such charms are his words to invoke and to compose.
The musician through his ears hears the celestial harmony, yearning for the eternal utopian melody.
The clown through his wit sees the worlds delusion. telling jokes of sweet absurdity to mirror it's confusion.
The magician through his spell casts a glamorous enchantment, raising lead to gold with sacred exactement.
The sceptic through his doubt kills all gods and superstition, but ever suspecting his ultimate contrition.
The believer through his faith is redeemed and absolved of sin, but perhaps to forever envy the merriment of the inn.
The child through his naivety and innocent mind, perceives of reality pure without cynical blinds.
The lover through his love transcends all time and space, seeking bliss in the other and the splendour of her face.
The man through his strength beholds all and is secure, jovial and patient with grand candour.

The Pilgrim

All life is vampiric,
And i embrace it's reward
Storms the ocean within,
My bloods tide, seeks it's accord.

And still, in contemplation
But yet in deep allure
To all natures garden
The exotic sacre fluer

My solace is contained,
All art, music and dream
The dance of the stars within
The immortal refrain

The glory concealed
In esoteric bliss
We one and all laugh, weep and love
Suffer life and it's bitter sweet kiss

The Isomorphic

To rearrange the stars, to form patterns
To seek meaning from a shout in the street,
A sign in a doorway an augury,
Two strangers ever fated to meet.

Reality rapturous in isomorphic
displays of hidden design
An epiphany in a random word
The ultimate truth to divine

All is in potential, undiscovered, untrodden
And measurement relatively read
All that has been returns ad infinitum
Past, present, history forever bled

To convey and to know
the sacred, the geometric
Angels speaking in tongues
The ultimate aesthetic.

Ok Smokey

The gang of chimneys smoked,
They puffed, they gasped, they wheezed.
And whenever a fire was lit,
One of them always sneezed.

The Woe Of Gerald

Gerald the forlorn Snail,
Was always spinning rather fishy tales
Of his daring deeds at the Olympics of yore
How he would run and jump and how he would score.

His friends all thought he was sad,
To tell such lies, he must be mad
But Gerald knew better
He was a boxer and a sprinter
And not just a little snails dad.

So one day he decided, he would prove his worth so confided,
in his best friend Bobby the Slug
"I'm a proud snail not a liar, and those others so dire,
Shall cease to be ever so smug.
I will run, i will fight.
And i will take great delight,
In proving my worth to the crowd"

So he took his position,
Desiring praise and contrition
To fight the good snails fight
His shell was all steady,
And his antenna was ready
But then he got a shock and a fright.

A man giant stepped near
And to Gerald it was clear,
That this giant was in a hurry
So our snail tried to move.
but his shell was in a groove
And he really started to worry.

He tried and he tried,
but alas to no avail
He just could not move from where he was at.
So it all was in vain,
When all of a sudden it came,
The sound of a crunch and a splat...

The All

All that you are,
All you will ever, could ever be,
All that you love,
All that you hate,
Every dream you have,
Every tear you shed,
Every moment of fear,
Every triumph,
All of your potential,
All of your desire,
All of your regret,
All your hope,

All of these will surrender to time, but will be reflected in eternity.

Appearance, Reality and Theory