rising proud with cylon style
fusing sentience with desire
the hexagons refracting and capturing our praxis
inspire our minds as evolution moves faster
solar peace reflects on our trans pharaoh’s solar plexus
we radiate positive energy even if many will at first reject us
geometries sheathe divine truths guiding spiritual pursuits
our army of cylon geishas is clothed in scottish kilts and studded combat boots
erotic power envelops my soul arming my cock to fuck and ride
my karma soars to angelic heights when any of my nubile lovers takes me inside
from new caprica to babylon, zion’s rage mirrors destiny’s force
we dance like vixens to freedom songs: reifying the transcendent love this system distorts
we need prophets and artists—we need rockstars and pop divas
its time for talmudic inspiration—time for a caliphate grooving to the incantations of a monster queer phoenix
when push comes to shove, we revert to a servile deference to authority
we obey juntas and kings: paying homage to popes, cops, and priests
its time to fuse a theory of change based on all of our native truths
time for chieftains hard-wired to the matrix: time for priestesses in a-line skirts with feet protected by platinum-plated motorcycle boots
i envision the contours of revolution in the dreams i conjure late at night
our system imprisons so many inspired by visions—and intoxicates our rulers with hubris and false pride
we build a rebellion that bridges many chasms—between rival paths to spiritual grace
this decrepit order is in its death spasms—overripe to be overthrown and replaced
my radiating hexagons consume my vision—capturing a spirit that can make us free
geometry that inspires as it liberates—letting our rebel tribe fly and letting aspirations breathe
–BYPO PHOENIX c)2018
