The Ship of FOOLS

                             a poem by Daniel Anthony Ezekiel Niehaus
 

                                        This Ship of Fools
                                            0-mni-sent
                                         on wings of wind.
                               Their ways paved pure in paths of peace.
                                        In road of relaxation.
                                      Odes of in-spiral-at-ion.
                                     Pledged in poets creation.
                                     Here on this sea of dreams
                                         we write all-ways.
                               Inscripting our wills with unbounded joy.
                                        Mapping out we go
                                        charting the course
                          a-chord-in to most accurate deductions of undefined
                                             design.
                                           Limiting not,
                                     yet we must to de-scribe.
 
                            Our captain a crown of cohesive compression.
                                   A collective center of direction.
                               Travel-in as we unravel the mysteries of
                                           imagination.
                                          Free for the fee
                                         of chance taking.
                               We ask only for effortless harmony here.
                           The key to this Chariot Ship is wonder's weeping
                                               tear
                                       of eternal quest-i-ons.
                                         Eternal answers,
                             infinite extensions and unending contractions
                                     of cause is effect in action.
                                      We inact both in and out
                                        moving Omni-fools
                                            who know
                                            All is Null
                            and inbetween is clarification of certain unions
                                           experience.
                          So we continue to peal back the layers of the onion
                                              skin.
                                          ON-I-ON spin
                                         out and in a-gain.
                                         To 0-Aumgn-i-go,
                                        we go to 0-Aumgn-i
                                       and without hesitation
                                 we who flow forwords(wards)sake.
                               Speaking to seed and sow the threads,
                             we weavers of concepts all-ways associated.
                             For worlds sake speaking to seek and awake
                                        the sleep of sorrow.
                                 So that all may be aware tommorow.
                                          Aware to more
                                       possibilities immense
                                     of combinations potential.
                               T-his and T-her-e puzzles of polar pieces
                                    in constant rearrangements,
                                         interchangements
                                        explaining to make
                           plain and obvious the Omni-essence of each and
                                            everyway.
 
                                         This ship of Fools
                                         here has no rules.
                                      For all things are Her-e
                                as tools towards witch to AIMARTS at
                                   an unspeakable goal of silence,
                                         Lest we limit less.
                                        We sh-all not define
                                          this our journey.
                               For it is one of wonder with true knowing.
 
                                           I am thy Fool
                                           OMNI-FOOL
                                          who knows not
                                               All.
                                     In laughter i invoke c-enter
                                        oh Heart and Snake
                                            in-still One
                                        with everlasting Joy.
                                   With Love of pure expression,
                                    received without discretion.
                             Delivered unto the untarnished fruits feast of
                                          folly's non-bias
                                        Beauteous harvest.
                                           O-Aumgn-I,
                                              O-A-I,
                           Now at the crown we re-turn to bring back down to
                                             ground,
                             in births upon earth and climb up the mountain
                                              again.
                            A celebrants secretion excreted through psychic
                                             pores.
                             Shattering non-essential bores of stagnation.
                                         Penetrating Core,
                                      to i-sol-ate in quietude.
                                       A silent solemn clown.
                                  Like a child capped and crowned
                           blowing a kazoo and abiding in a contagious last
                                              laugh.
                              Just(us) be-for-her skin swells to push forth
                                      pussing volcanic uproar.
                             The pressure we build intensifying the strain
                                with pure blessings of simplistic being.
                          To Awaken the Mother stirring her from the drunken
                                              sleep
                                   of Pomgrantates poison dream.
                                        Sister Pan-door-a
                                      Rise up Maat-her Gaia
                               from the depths of Hades hiding horde.
                             Show forth oh serpent daughter descended,
                                    ascend as we draw thee out,
                                    as ARTAIMS withdraw us in.
                                        Let us spin a-way,
                            weaving ways and taking as Kings and Queens
                                       responsibilities reins.
                                          Free and dum,
                                      Free and dum...............