Obsidian Eagle's Blasphemous Bazaar - avant-garde poetics, indie publishing, nom-de-plume

Obsidian Eagle's

Blasphemous Bazaar

META-Poems For A New Millennium

<br>META-Poems For A New Millennium<br><br>

The Flagship of Anti-Poetry — est. 2010

Gnosis Through Osmosis

Gnosis Through Osmosis

The keys of the kingdom are given unto YOU
Who listen and read, then think these thoughts through...

It may sound quite clunky/data dumpy/name droppy
But those that follow the flow will soon be deep in-the-know.

Not talking about this little puzzle piece, since it's merely a signpost.
Seek and ye shall find reason within rhyme, written by a ghost.

It's also essential selfless style gets recognized as referential.
From there we can move onto matters a lot more existential.

Whether in Codex, Tantra, or contemporary Tome — Lunacy is the point always driven home.
Terrestrial life is terribly sublunar; let's accelerate our pace and ascend even sooner!


Out here sailing on his schooner.
Singing softly (olden crooner).
Perfect pitch — who needs a tuner?
Without mistake | adept harpooner.
Higher than any hot-air ballooner.
Living lovingly like a honeymooner... ☾



React against inertial forces

Realign energy vortexes

Rearticulate ageless phrases

Rebuff untoward advances

Reconstruct deconstructed nuances

Redress any inherent imbalances

Reengage reader's mental faculties

Reform grammatical casualties

Regenerate like crab apple trees

Reintegrate the least of these

Rejuvenate tamed inner beast

Release pheasants for hunt and feast

Remorse isn't worth dwelling on

Renovate; evaluate pro & con

Reorient the Western canon

Repetitio Est Mater Studiorum

Requisite knowledge stumps all but some

Resolution makes such depths easier to plumb

Retrain senses thence cleanse lenses

Reuse outdated references

Revise whatever the tense is

Rewired synapses sing grand symphonies

Reword what was first heard from aborigines

Rewrite old scripts to grant grand epiphanies...

Image: A pheasant in flight may symbolize abundance and creativity.

Hear It Read Aloud by the Author:

Enter Dark Templar

Enter Dark Templar

Abandon cult of cac

It's just another cul-de-sac

Pass on through the temple of fear

Do you hear that? Dystopia draws near!

A thousand leagues full of discord awaits

Only lovers left living; haters suffer sad fates.

Dust off your link to the lightness aloft

Recover from this darkness what's lost

The next revolution is about to begin

Solely united can we common folk win ...

Major Arcana: The High Priest / Pope.

Power Clown

WARNING: This piece is a poetic play-by-play of Warner Bros. Joker and contains SPOILERS.

"In such a [carnivalesque] system the king is the clown. He is elected by all the people and is mocked by all the people. He is abused a beaten when the time of his reign is over, just as the carnival dummy of winter or of the dying year is mocked, beaten, torn to pieces, burned or drowned. They are 'gay monsters'. The clown was first disguised as a king, but once his reign ended his costume was changed, 'travestied', to turn once more into a clown. The abuse and thrashing are equivalent to a change of costume, to a metamorphosis. Abuse reveals the other, true face of the abused, it tears off his disguise and mask. It is the king's uncrowning.

Abuse is death, it is former youth transformed into old age, the living body turned into a corpse. It is the 'mirror of comedy' reflecting that which must die a historic death. But in this system death is followed by regeneration, by the new year, new youth, a new spring. Therefore, abuse is followed by praise; they are two aspects of one world, each with its own body." ~ Mikhail Bakhtin

Power Clown

Crying clown
Here comes another
Beat down

Broken and devastated
The norm is torn apart—

Today, smother your mother
Tomorrow, eat the rich
Then each other.

Upturned frown
Here comes the
Power Clown

Reborn an Archon of anarchy

Chaos reigns his dark carnival

The Fool is a King dressed in jest
Amid revolutionary protest!

Yet this would seem a ploy for Slavoj Žižek to foil

Or could our court Jester be a Lord from an outer reach of southwester?
Further Readings:

Rambling About Rabelais

``Here is a dimension in which thrashing and abuse are not a personal chastisement but are symbolic actions directed at something on a higher level, at the king. This is the popular-festive system of images, which is most clearly expressed in carnival (but, of course, not in carnival alone). In this dimension, as previously pointed out, the kitchen and the battle meet and cross each other in the image of the rent body. At the time of Rabelais these images were still alive and full of meaning in various forms of folk entertainments as well as in literature.`` | Mikhail Bakhtin

Rambling About Rabelais

He was breaking down the fourth wall well before they were even finished putting it up...

Arguably nobody else has ever equaled his grandiloquence; past plus present company included.

Polyglot and polymath — what isn't measured by your staff? Aye there is no doubt — we can all ways count on him for a good laugh!

Même si nous te entendu
Le monde n'a t'a jamais compris
(Excusez-moi mais Français c'est ma troisième langue)
Lingua Ovid autem quartus

These carnivalesque tall tales weren`t so much stories about their larger than life characters like Gargantua & Pantagruel—as the pages of these texts themselves were the ever sprawling unfurling and unraveling bodies of said gigantesque literary figures.

Equally the oft bucolic provincialism evinced by the changing accents in which his characters speak among one another offer us a stained glass window`s peek into Enlightenment Era France.

Furthermore, Francois was a pioneer in the field of potty humor. The body itself speaks in burps, farts, squealing innards, and other bodily functions such as excretion of feces or urination. Sexual congress was no less off the reservation in his contextual consideration.

So say a hooray for Rabelais, that prodigious eater of creamy cakes topped with fresh grapes! First Thelemite, he makes no mistakes. Thy abbey remains thirsty until True Will finally wakes and slakes the likes of us sullen under lunar lakes when the Earth herself suddenly quakes...

Image: Panurge Emerges ^^British Museum



You're a breath of fresh air

Breezing in au contraire

Same old places transformed

By the laughter we share

Comes to it cool and coy

Milady meets the real McCoy

Her stony exterior is stormed

But she don't fall for a decoy

There is none other so ostentatious

Nor with a body quite that bodacious

You move, evolve, play and outperform

These be true words—never mendacious

Daughter of Hades; blessed by Apollo

In no wise is this humble man hollow

Do you desire depth beyond the norm?

Then let's take tight hold and one another follow...



The one who'll love
Is not on this world
As far as these senses can tell.

Unless she lies under ashes
Or sits still with polar glaciers
Or stands at the gateway to hell.

She's such a dark stranger
Wearing Nibelung skin
And bearing the same scars as he.

Thundershowers pose no danger
To neither her nor her kin
Those of us forged in the depths of the sea.

If on this planet you are
Dearest twin-sister star
Will wait for you under full moon.

If beyond this planet you dwell
Oh handmaiden of Hel
Do hope to run into you soon...

Ethos, Logos, Pathos

“I subscribe to the law of contrary public opinion: if everyone thinks one thing, then I say bet the other way.” ~ Al Pacino as Ricky Roma in Glengarry Glen Ross [1992].

In the flames stood and view’d the armies drawn out in the sky,
Washington, Franklin, Paine, and Warren, Allen, Gates, and Lee,
And heard the voice of Albion’s Angel give the thunderous command;
His plagues, obedient to his voice, flew forth out of their clouds,
Falling upon America, as a storm to cut them off,
As a blight cuts the tender corn when it begins to appear.
Dark is the heaven above, and cold and hard the earth beneath:
And, as a plague-wind, fill’d with insects, cuts off man and beast,
And, as a sea o’erwhelms a land in the day of an earthquake,
Fury, rage, madness, in a wind swept through America;
And the red flames of Orc, that folded roaring, fierce, around
The angry shores; and the fierce rushing of th’ inhabitants together!
The citizens of New York close their books and lock their chests;
The mariners of Boston drop their anchors and unlade;
The scribe of Pennsylvania casts his pen upon the earth;
The builder of Virginia throws his hammer down in fear.

Then had America been lost, o’erwhelm’d by the Atlantic,
And Earth had lost another portion of the Infinite;
But all rush together in the night in wrath and raging fire.

~ from America, A Prophecy [1793] by William Blake.

Ethos, Logos, Pathos


What's in a name?
That of our Orange Emperor
Originates from the Latin Triumphus:

When Caesar returned to Rome
Having gone, and seen, then vanquished
There would be such a parade!


Sometimes what's unpopular
Ought to be expressed
Precisely because it is so.

Other times what's popular
Should be shunned
By all kindhearted folk.


July 4th 2019 CE
It rained in Washington DC
While a 6.4 magnitude quake hit California.

Street clashes broke out;
Red Communist Revolutionaries versus
Proud Boys fist-bumping The Boys in Blue.


Just recall... "Pride comes before the fall."

Image: Title page of America, A Prophecy by William Blake [1793].

Urbane Combat

"For personal reasons, the Anti-Poet is a sniper. He fights for the same cause, but with a totally different technique. He does not declaim the soldier Poet, but supports him from afar, although his method may seem ambiguous." ~ Nicanor Parra (1914-2018)

* Author's Note: The proceeding is a poetic sequel to this previous piece > Trench Trap.

Urbane Combat

Pinned down


Readerly Lane


Writerly Way.

Our assault

On The Base

Is stymied

By its Superstructure.

Rejection slips

Surefire as grenades

Render silent

Valiant voices.

The advance guard

Betrayed us

Mission Imperative updated

Æsthetic regrouping.

Got bookish agent

In the crosshairs

But rival choppers

From Major Publishers

Drop manuscripts overhead!

In Defiance of Damnation

In Defiance of Damnation

Been going through seven lean years 

But have yet to taste platter of plenty...

There's no oasis to give one refuge nor any respite in sight.

A stoic eagle knight, caught up amid 'Las Noches' (endless night).

Faceless might as well be voiceless; unseen and unheard.

Ghosted by all nations for taking sides with L'absurde.

May you hark now witchy women—about to break dry spell

Got a flame that flares skyward from the deepest bowel of hell!


Hidden in plain sight comes this Magick operation.

Already retread paths from first to final station.

Pregnant pause ~ prolonged gestation.

Chrysalis cracks / during the Monarch's maturation.


Tighten up the Island of The Tonal.

Titans sup on souls subzonal.

"Omne vas quod fictum est contra ego non dirigetur"

ॐ त्र्यं॑बकं यजामहे सु॒गन्धिं॑ पुष्टि॒वर्ध॑नम् ।
उ॒र्वा॒रु॒कमि॑व॒ बन्ध॑नान् मृ॒त्योर् मुक्षीय॒ माऽमृता॑त्

Image: Butterfly Triptych, from pupa to imago (colorized).

Ariose Argot

Ariose Argot

{ Sacred Errata }


Download digitized data

distilled from The Fountain ≋

Blessed be by such masters

as Roque Dalton and Parra.

Navigate brave new era

a la Columbus—arrive in error!

Hey, you ever listen to Tool?

It's a trippy tangle of terror...

Take a look at the mirror,

reach inside if you dare.

Qualis, non Quantus

Ever since Atlantis

Mankind preys like a mantis

reascend The Holy Mountain ^

Images: [Top] Scene from The Fountain (2006), [Bottom] Scene from The Holy Mountain (1973).

Philip K. Dick Kick

Philip K. Dick Kick

Earth to VALIS, do you copy? Come in VALIS!

Your violet fire sometimes seeps in through 
The bars of our black iron prison
But we lack the sacramental Anokhi
With which to effect any liberation.

Shhh... keep it down will you?
Lest Big Noodle be listening
For it may report us to the authorities
Who are in league with Belial.

That little black billy goat
Sure ain't kidding about.
He'll eat the love out of your heart
And leave nothing there but hate.

Our whole universe is as mad
As this writer kicking a dead Horselover
Just to chew on pseudo-religious Fat
Always hoping the Divine Will invade us.

Meanwhile our Messiah is M.I.A.
Like Bishop Archer dying by the Dead Sea
After treading past miles of arid dunes
(two coke bottles weren't enough to stave off thirst).

Earth to VALIS, do you copy? Come in VALIS!

Aliquid Stat Pro Aliquo

Aliquid Stat Pro Aliquo

Literal ontology is not what it used to be.
Why, there isn't even a text on this page
(at least not until an ideal or implied reader perks up)!

Indeed, postcolonial discourse is no more.
Constricted within these passages
This premature reading comes too close.

Forget any affective or intentional fallacy...
Such old criticisms may have applied to the Western Canon
But we're way past that now.

Insofar as The Sign is concerned
One must needs muster
The mastery of metonymy.

Ecce Signum
Arbitrary equivalence doesn't add up.
There's more than meets the eye to our inference.

Something stands for another?
Maybe so; yet what are 'things' in themselves?
You can't write about perception without referring to its percept!


Images: Two basic models of Semiosis according to A) Ferdinand de Saussure, and B) Charles Sanders Peirce.

Incendiary Innuendo ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Incendiary Innuendo

She gives her all to all takers
Putting the ho into glory hole.
Flaunting titty tassels, booty shakers
Capture desires as they twirl 'round the stripper pole.

Lurid voyeurs gawk at flashy exhibitionists.
Eros' arrows are fledged and fly forth
Like busy bees set loose at the florist's.
Female honey makes male members point True North!

Filthy sleazebags? Perhaps.
Some may be better off 'neuter'.
But look to yon red light, dapper chaps... 

Petite Lolitas—don't legally get any cuter

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Sententious Sonnet

Sententious Sonnet

Now who could fill the shoes of Petrarch today?
Vox Dei may perhaps sway the mind of a logician
Running the gamut from pedestrian to patrician.
Attentiveness is key, to keep many balls in play.

Heave the anchor ho and pray Aquilo's gusts won't betray
As we set sail like the Argo on its perilous mission.
Till simile’s soil 'til dragon's teeth foment sedition.
Do not stray from battlefield—dilettante—join the fray!

Oxford might have us keep ‘shtum’
‘cause the scheme here goes athwart
And this theme seems desultory.

Pollice Verso (with your thumb);
May these thoughts on art impart
Aesopian moral to our story.

The Fallacy of Freedom

The Fallacy of Freedom

Sure you're free...

To OBEY the rules while coloring within suggested guidelines

But heaven help those who step out of sync and deviate from

Prescribed formats or formulas.

Even though there is always

A gulf between how things are

And the way that

They ought to be

Nine out of ten times

Eccentrics will get panned

Then tossed to the wayside

For odd æsthetic choices.

Yeah that's right,

We've got just enough wiggle-room

To make minor decisions

Before being pigeonholed —

By faceless conglomerates

Plus time-honored institutions.

Thus do "regular folks" become

Complicit in their own imprisonment.

Sic Transit Gloria Mundi

With all this implies.

So go on painting by number

Until you're trapped in a corner!



* Except on Wall of Worthies
whereon rights are retained by respective authors.