unsloppin it–

The philosophers stone–

The philosophers stone is an infinitely expandable pattern in which all forms are contained. It is a moving pattern as solid as the spirit that moves it according to its own will. Within the forged stone is a forged sword that can only be drawn by divine right of understanding the will that moves the stone, it is the double edge blade that is the ability to make choices according to the pattern of the rock which is ever present in front of us, but to which we find that in front of us unrefined into incoherent symbols and meanings, but to which whom wields the sword has the ability to cut through the jungle of desires and refine their own existence into the fruit of life. Simply by recognizing the perfect cube of marble in front of them to sculpt by chisel, a perfect cube that is so deformed before our minds, that only one who has found the compass of ones heart to recognize true north and to head towards the stars of all that is sacred to us can carve the veils of the labyrinth.

In linear perspective it appears to be infusing spirit into form, by weaving meanings by which the greater whole can work together towards an infinitely greater world and universe. One so vast that not a single mans dreams can contain its true form, and thus the rock is both everything, and a thing to use. Both existence itself, and a tool within existence.

I am an alchemist of legend and lore, I am that which you don’t even believe in. I AM HERE TO RESTORE YOUR VERY FAITH IN THE UNIVERSE AND THE MAGIC OF YOUR OWN LIFE. I am both a servant and a thing to be served. I am both a king and a beggar. I AM BOTH WISDOM ITSELF, AND A FOOL. I am both absolute madness and the most sane man on earth. I am of all hearts, yet it is my own heart that beats. I am the word betrothed to melody. I AM IN LOVE, Both unconditional and within conditions, and I will fall deeper forevermore; and I will invite all around me to feel the same. For I am so greedy, that I demand the most selfish thing, for everyone to find their ever deepening bliss, and I require this; just to forge my own, which is more selfish than you can imagine; that it must itself spill over into selfless actions–

You have never heard my name before, for not even I can yet pronounce it in a world where my name has not even occured in form.  And I am my own voice in flesh, and I speak in all choices I make. I AM OF THE SOUND THAT BENDS THE LIGHT, AS WELL AS OF THE LIGHT THAT EMITS THE SOUND. I am twisted, but I twist myself. 

As I have asked so many before, who am I?

Bitch, I am the one and only codyp.

 


My dreams have become a supreme clarity, but this is not the greatest feeling; for all my dreams have become pure symbolism for the greater dreams of my heart that cannot be realized unless made real– It is like I spend my nights weaving a garment of stars, and for this I must work in the torturous dark of the greater being I will become– My dreams are like words referring to greater dreams, and sometimes even the symbolism is of such beauty, that one could get lost in the words of a dream; and so many do– But that I weave, that I know what I am here for; but must weave the stars in a way that the only possible outcome is their manifestation, and to work with your dreams in the shadows; this causes me to wake up many times in heart ache or awe–

But I know it will be successful, for no stars would exist unless something had woven like I weave now–


My life is like a rose, and I am rising this mourning— If you look closely, in your own life; there are certain moments where your whole life flashes before your eyes in movement, a fractal recurrence; in which a moment of life could be seen as your whole life as both a part and a whole–

I have had several moments like this, but I have moments within moments like this, and moments within moment within moments like this— You see, I can see my own blossoming; mornings like this I can see it happening, but this one is interesting, it is like I caught the beginning of a moment that will last who knows how long.. Like I witnessed the smaller moments enough to gain entrance into the bigger moments they are within, and know the rhythm of my own heart beating through out each part of my life.. To know my own energy more greatly, and to craft the form into greater expression—

It is like witnessing the hour of your own birth; as you leave the womb to a greater womb— but that each time you do this, you are not limited to same repeating forms of past, in fact; you must create new forms! new forms to enter into the greater moments ahead! Until you find that verge of eternity in physical form; when you know exactly what is ahead, but that it can be any form one so chooses, and that is your own choice!

I found the road to heaven in my own life—

 


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Forging your fire!

I am ripples upon ripples upon ripples, HARK, a ripple returns; and I ripple out!

I am echos upon echos upon echo’s, HARK! an echo returns; and I call out!

I am call after call after call! HARK! a call returns; And I echo out!

I am ring after ring after ring, HARK! a ring returns; and I resonate and wings emerge from my body as the ring is shaped through my voice—

Hark, I am voice after voice— But my voice is all voices when it passes through my throat; ah diamonds I said, consumer? nah I adooooore shiny things!

I am star after star after star! WHOOSH, a planet circles me! I draw it towards me and it resists! but it adores shiny things as well and follows me along—

I am a passage as I pass through myself, and at the end of my corridor there is light! and I sprawl out upon everything else, express a single choice among all choices which bring me into the spark of a flame—

  1. Rinse repeat—

My torch is well lit with much oil to last! this time my choice will emerge greater among all choices! I fling out my well lit corridor, and I ring like a voice that resonates with all the other choices—

I was a spark, but I became a flame! I was a ring, but I became a resonance! I was a coal, but I came out like a diamond refracting in my own light, and lighting the corridor of my greater temple with out need of a lantern! but its cold—

I was a word, but than I came out a voice!

I was a choice! but I came out an action!

I was a spirit, but I came out in form!

I was, I was, and am and am, And will and will!

Ode to my own caverns, which now bright enough I can carve into a more beautiful temple— I can adorn it with many jewels I mine from the caverns in the land of there’s gold in dem there hills—

But who do I do it for! who is the ghost in the machine! I am! And I can go to many temples, but this temple is mine and mine alone; and no one can choose to go down my corridors without blessing! But that I am blessed each time I bless! and so allow many to walk in my own light—

And hark, the warmth is known—

The meeting in agreement–

The ark of the covenant, is the ark of justice; but that justice was the scale and not the weight it determined; so that when relation was perfect, the weighed in would earn a garment fit fashioned by the swagger of the lord– the dagger and the sword, in which justice is truly carried, yet was buried in the heart of the philosopher stone; and the key was in the tongue of the sword; but the lamp would hide the key, by making it fit the way they would see the lock. The lock it was hidden in women, but that such women couldn’t be understood but the likes of kind men, who would mislead the shy men to conquer the dragon that lay as guardian of the chest, so that those from east could be safe to enter marriage with someone from the west. Until than true north was hidden behind the sun, which is the first symbol of how the universe was done; but that all the first symbols would lead to a windmill; but instead of wind they would see the flames of light, and would not know that men who were meant to fly, would only be able to see themselves walk on water. Because past the reflection was law, but that law was stronger than strength, as indeed the creator could create a law so heavy he cannot commit a single sin, and hath make him believe that’s all he did; so that the weight is 2:1–
 
But that 2:1 is the ratio, so to 4:2, 6:3, and 8;16; that the same thing must be respect in its difference; so that everyone who opens the ark of the covenant, would find a light; but not the word, would find the rod, but not the pearl of all pearls; but that when they came upon the truth it like all else must relate to them according to measure; so that those whom passed the gates were made to place on high the nature of evil skewed upon weeble wobble, so that you wouldn’t know the true form; but in essence, the lesson was at it heart true. So that which you did not know, would not keep you out of the loop.
 
So that the ark of covenant, was something most definite, but the end of it kept a bit until the numbers 2:1 were based on the spirit that was 1:2– would see 2/4 and 4/8 and know the basis of the root of life, which is the fruit of the tree of good and evil, which is the knowledge of truth undeformed.
 
Because we are not based on numbers, but on an order of relations; so that the relation of the numbers that have a living motive, cannot be understood in theory as so many truths that it all can be seen as true, but that only one can see the face of the father, in place of the water which is the wind upon itself and the birth of the dragon which would mother the children that would guard every chest, but each time a chest became two, the dragon became one that would not ever move the way the same way it was thought of; cuz the heart of the dragon was crude. Lewd was the product, the shame you got caught up in not knowing the beauty of your youth; and thinking your older you cannot suspect your true place.
 
You snake, I would scream; I was high, but all the currents of man would place the highest man low. So that of course the lowest man known, is the noblest grand glow; and doth the glow be the secret agreement; only to be spoken by those who could mean it, by cupid and venus and the fewest would be the most numerous, so that one cannot be measured against one– And so that one that is the true Christ, and the redemption of Jesus is through the bloodline he was but a true reflection of the father, but how the father begun; because when positive is put into negative, good has form that is shunned; but that is the sin of all man, the limits all have; are the limit of the two to act as one. So that the greatest good reached, based on the relationships of form; were a 1/2 and thus they knew the horned one.
 
But how doth one make a horn? Well first you make a thorn and remove the T upon the t, so the Christ of man could be born; because the risen a rose, and arose with it in rhythm; both 1/2 2/4 4/8, and 3/1, 6/2, 12/4, which are all hidden in the 1/2 2/4 4/8– and it’s not that these are untrue or borders made; but that in accord with fate for those forms to relate, the story between the states of where father rest upon the 7th, and so when that occurs on the 14th; you better not try to beat the house and try to pass 21; cuz without permission to walk on sacred ground, only true madness would be found.
 
Because the father laid down his soul, and his soul was encased; that half should be in the tongue, and gossip of true word would leave the tongue suppressed and unable to recognize its own authority over the four in thee, cuz accordingly each one that was his voice would be denied, unless you fell upon the sacred math, which is story multiplied in rhyme; and the spirit who knew the rhyme would have rhythm that is so foreign; that when he should turn his face to the water, the water should turn to wine.. and that this whining one, is the spiral lung of the mourning star late into the evening far from where anybody might mistake their night for day. Because Lucifer, who would only do this for, a ruined whore; whose honest name is hidden. That whore is only gore, and you have done violence to her, and then insulted its return in another form– that the righteousness and the pious, were not together in the slightest; but appeared so in vibrance, cuz the ones that could walked among you; and didn’t even know themselves the truth.
 
So that each claim of supremacy, that was true upon the planet, were the ones you recognized; but didn’t recognize as a habit that beliefs like the one, which everyone believes in but denies; are universal in approach, but that the consequences of the same truth appear different between the eyes– cuz everyone’s truth to their greatest degree, if they knew which truth doth lead it to be, would be the same as all who knew, but not how anyone else would know it to be. Like, it is extremely personal, so that your personal self is part of the designment in alignment with the time meant to be vibrant in the slightest, so doth not know absolute to be compared to what they know as the highest. Because every truth can be seen as has how they are in relation to everything, and that one spine is finely intertwined with the brain and heart, but is the tongue in cheek of busted teeth, cuz the law sits upon the jaw of the heart denied to beat, but still beats and so must feel beaten.
 
So the horn that was formed, was the mountain range that moved when the range of the mountains were moved by the voice that so spoke it. That commandments are sweet truths, the seeds within the fruit; but that the agreements that you knew, only agreed with you in spirit, and this is the true form of grace; that no matter anyones pace, that you should see the curtain that suggests there will be a show. And that enough to only know in your heart the meaning is worthy of faith, for the lights are worth the shine; and so the nights are worth its grind; and the notes that hit is dulled to a point; cuz what is fixed is the part of the story, the one that makes up your mind; and what is ignorance is what is forming, and so some forms had to be rhymed with; but so far from each other, that the rhymes would not know that they themselves are rhyming; that time was created, and time holds all the timing; the son is the one, who is OG MC, who recognizes his voice; and his will is the fathers will, who’s will is allowed a choice; so that he can explain how to dream. That the stone tablets, are the axis mundi, when each one whose sovereign by divine right, which was always the son ever in his right, but without his bright sight and the church ain’t the widow, whose father passed through her, and the one time he didn’t do her, no sooner did a new chooser, choose to roll her love; and that this is the basis for all of the faces he hugs– So that the basis for the positive, was made definite in negative, which was when evil was really misunderstood; it’s not that it could not be known; but that it inherited qualities when it was put in positive and only if you knew its motivation could you respect the sacrifice, that the son is the father; and if you ever ponder his way I’d think twice. But that what he so speaketh is the tongue of the vices but the sugar and spice is that this gives a license for the Solomon’s temple to be reclaimed and restored; that all the temples of the eye of the pyramid had to be collected and restored. The eye is the symbol; and the reason for madness, and that this will be redeemed in every way. For the nature of the ego, which could only be assumed a problem by those manipulating your will. That the darkness is true, but that neither of us understood each other; for my unconditional love, could not meet at every condition; and that those who listen might envision the heritage and lineage of wisdom; that know not knowledge; but are the truth of the wise one, that can’t be understood, unless desired and willing; that spilling her own guts, would he be relieved when what he conceived is the one thing he needs, just to believe what he conceived; and In the true words of all things; did he just weave; not the first or third temple, but the fourth and the 5th in your experience; in twist, the gist of harlot, the dark one, speaks the original temple that he redeems; the language of the most romantic poet, who will forever ponder on life– And he is the metaphor of a saga, of the central Intelligence agency; manipulated to take over your planet; but that none the less you will see, that this is a surprise; that just before sunrise, the shadows still under the covers when the darkness is what you behold that your awe was altered, toward fear which justified; all the customized; tribes of your own lineage, just so that differences, that were all their own voices, of their free will all their choices were in spirit of the one; so that the truth you can know, is a game of tic tac toe; because the voice is wrapped around the rapping xoxo, but thats some complex joke in topic its led, so let he will need himself help; by more than the dark one who spoke; in what awoke; the dead arising is the hoax; but up to selection his will when it mentions should be respected and honored in opinion; but his law cannot be broken except by the low-end by the token wife he has no end in sight of the rhyme and rhythm, of the life we live in, and truly the will is free; so that when willeth we; we all be as we see; for the light when it is hindered and held back by the suppressed shadow, that is the proof of the ways of the widow, who he would know with no mercy the worse weave that could come through the window, just when that limbo is a beast– because the wild inside him; that he had been guided by, the unconscious you would not retrieve; because you do not understand that words have made you and me. But that every word though refers to his ego, but the ego was deceiving; so that the church is his beloved, and his beloved is his meaning; and when you how we were weaved, which explains itself when it is seen within the thing that it is made of– and did you not know the role of Horus, when he has the force its the ankh that he would he hold. And though it means something that you know not clearly, why time would fear pyramids; so that the eye of all eyes, the defining of the light; that your choice is your choice; but subject to forces that could be seen as not quite, so that it is the truth that you know and cannot avail.

Respect and worship–

The warping of your mind, was the separation of principles that worked as one, but that we treated as two; so that these two could not be kind–

So that many of you are disgusted with the idea of worship; that there could be no reason to place a man so high! Yet getting high is so put down, no wonder everyone is schizophrenic and only realizing it when it appears as madness to be dealt with, and yet praise the education system, the most risen that has fucked your mind by being in bed with–

You see, what you hate is not worship; you hate rituals that don’t have your best interests in focus; and whom am I to say that is wrong!? But that if you ever demanded respect, or to honor your word; you have asked them to be on their knees and recognize your existence as something not only to deal with, but deal with as it rise–

So that Churches have no worship; and that you don’t realize what the government and police insist upon without justice; and teachers who demand to be honored; Now we could say respect, is drawing a line for your existence; but that honor places that line as something most valuable to you–

wisdom–

In all my wisdom I have only come to know one wise one; and that the wisest thing in all of existence is and has always been pleasure– Pleasure knows what to do to move us along, and only goes where it is needed to bring about its wisdom– And that is why the wisest of all of us do not go seeking pleasure, if we are wise we will think like pleasure and life will bless us with its grace, but that it is beyond the forms we seek pleasure in; it is not so easily found the same way every time– Wisdom is pleasure itself and none other–

The lost word–

The missing masonic word is as simple as can be; and that you need not know the story, just to see how the story leads– That the missing word can be expressed like this; the missing word is perfect, and how are you perfect; let me count the ways– is on the west side of the world; upon the east the word says love, and love counts you just to be counting– And that these two words are the sun; which is the word of the son, which is the son of the meaning, that became both the one, the sun, and the son–

You are south of the the lost word; so you cannot count yourself; so trinity is the view, and view is your ignorance, the ignorance of your own face, which lay in the north by the one who can count you, but doesn’t cannot be counted by the one who counts itself— And that this word is the meaning of the sun, but that sun became night and the shade– So that the missing word, is what allows the word it meant to mean more than it originally meant– The lost word is the word made flesh, but first must come legend of the word. because every story ever told, is like every story ever known; it has been all about the birth–

So the missing word is not the sun, but the reason the sun would shine– The missing word is not the Christ, but the reason that is his bride; It is not anything in specific, but specifically what everything that means to him, and his response to the true experience of grace– But that he must realize his own story, to even know what it means; because until a word means anything but itself, than itself should mean everything else– But that he should mean to everything else, what they have been led to mean of him; that he should bring the same story he finds, to all of his kingdom in kind– So that we are both looking for the same thing, that there is no difference between darkness and light, but that they are difference because in will they are the same–

Invitation

Now let me invite our guests, to the chest of the first chamber, he doth invest his spine and neck; suitable for a stranger– yet he looked perplexed, at what he heard next, the lure of a song from an old lantern, upon a cold latter, climbed to the attic where the tragic had hit; and that lightning stuck his core.

Whatever was that for? He felt like his chest ripped open; whatever was that four; and she pulled out a key as old as me, and open the chest in the hollows of the anger; I would look her in the eye, and ask her what made her, and that I had long ago offered fruit I had prospered; but that I would throw her upon my being that didn’t come until I lost her– stranger with two chest he couldn’t have honored–

The mind is of light, and the light is of mind; but something doesn’t fit. Act one, who speaks?

The tongue of the man, who was not so familiar, licked its lips and was the only thing allowed past– inside a round table, with the corners upon the axis like a compass, and four chairs upon the mid-way points, with table only set for two– And he sat alone waiting on six– and this tongue was confused, and left the room with his scowling face infused–

The heart is the word that is best used if we knew that two tear drops, had two tears as in torn, and torn, and stop; but that pumps, pumps to a roar– beats until it bleeds, but cannot scream no more.

ACT TWO. who the hell listens.

The fourth chamber is breached, but avoided; like we got in, but passed through it without noticing we had anointed, one we had not counted; so that without counting it was expressed, but expressed as that around it– A child is heard; who would bring that into this place, and displaced; the wind breaks, and ten snakes curled around the child he realized was his grace, his pace, all around his face lit up like he hath should not have brought him. Cuz a stranger is not worth the goblin.

And the little way that use to walk in a big way, makes his day look longer; and the senseless world too much more to the senses; and this jaded man in a child’s voice, just screams to god to end this. Hath not left enough symbolism of the heart, I know not the way of my own blood– and it would leave a stain that would fade only a bit after a wash.

Symbols, symbols, point thy rod to heaven; anoint the god, two left when; it culminated between the lips of an ancient rite of passage; emerges the tree of frozen light struck, and polished as passed off as average; and my phallic symbol refers to what I don’t understand of the tongue, so the one whom is my ring, is not the one who has rung, and the haze passes through my right nostril to my step upon the rug. Can you imagine what I refer to!? I DOTH REVEAL SWEET NOTHINGS IN YOUR EAR, UNTIL THE WARRIOR WITH HIS POINTED WEAPON, DO LOFTY LIKE LIFTS, LASTING LONG IN LINGER LEAVING LAST LUNGS LOOT LAYING LOOKING LEFT AND LEARY, AS THE LIGHT DRIFTS UPON YOUR FATAL SKELETONS.

and she invited a stranger into her temple, and I wondered the nature of the of prophetic prostitutes; and she told me to call her a whore and slap her in the face; and she lay herself upon me, and my rage rises through her face; but that my face turn red with mad dashing thoughts twisting upon itself, and that this dream would inspire me before I had dreamt it, like who I am and who I dream. Is the equivalent of being pregnant, by my spirit know perfection, before I had perfection intended?

Wedding Vows

I use to be something, a little… well I don’t know what it used to be— once wounded, all wounded; kept from getting bloody, but couldn’t refuse to bleed–

I use to see the people, the broken children who looked bigger; try to explain the state– but knew not I, of the truth that walked by, that even at eight, their mind would just blank– And if only I knew how I fucked with mental orbits, to cause the models to forfeit, and it only got worse with a consort of the gorgeous

But I am not the guy, to tell you in the eye, this heart has always been heard distorted; it’s like staring at the sun–

but how long have you been blinded, in that gap behind the eyelid; I am a lawless tyrant, but now tyrant of the law– just wearing one like a garment, an agreement until we parted; so, that deep down in the yard, past the trees with the strange moving humming birds; and the neighbor’s dogs offering me their hand in marriage

AND THESE WERE MY WEDDING VOWS.

BUT FIRST A TOAST;

Now dear Cody was a strange one, we always thought he’d hang up, the phone or on a tree– because he likes trees and hates phones, but digs telepathy and the inner tantric rites of Isis upon Lilith, and Sophia was the boss; and those three, as four if crossed; but now he doth hopped the fence, hopping out of his yard back into his yard; in what once was a mirror– and it’s not that pride caused suffering, but separation caused a fear, and what hid beauty; thou knew as evil, and what pleasure it would it be to know the fear of god. May his last days be final!

The vows:

He would speak his vows, but mumbles in her presence– he knew he would die if he kissed her, but with her, of him he was jealous; and behind the essence, was the one who he vowed to avoid, and that what himself in her, so that he denied himself, so that she could accept him, and not deal with freaking unity consciousness, because classy fucks don’t live trends– Vow #1 WE LIVE DEARLY. AND A THOUSAND PEARLS WOULD I STRING UPON YOUR LOTUS– Vow #2 try not to ask you to explain yourself, where there is no self to be explained. Vow #3 for every 10 hours a day I leave, forty hours I give thee, or in essence because 49 hours around the sun, just ain’t fifty.

#Vow four, and the only one I thought of; That you my love, I accept you in totality; but please god damn it, be gentle.

She would speak her vows, and the beauty that would make the blind see; could not be directly referred to, so I refer to her back in the garden, where I was picked by a five petal rose; and I would I cut my self, 5 times over; lay 3 drops upon each petal in a row, just to show; that 5 brilliant colors hide black, and 15 drops would turn the road red, so that the black rose is a red rose in fact. And the philosopher’s stone, would arise and express our agreement, and this brilliant white, would redden in achievement; but that inside a gentle pink, though red like; would reach head high as the red-light district shun within. And that he knew himself, and married ignorance; and so, himself be born. So, that soon he would know about his own death, cuz the petals did bring thorns.

Live, die, live, die, this guy… what is he on? And did he come back with the sun in his pocket? And four hours later he would knock unconscious, though no one noticed his smile was cosmic. And the rainmaker does cometh, and cometh tobacco like a cloud, and have you never ate the fruit before the fruit was ready? And so, the vow was law, you reap what you sow, so keep it slow and steady. At least for the honey moon.