Codex Reflex.11

Narrative written through time jumps, cut outs and wormholes. Flashback sections segments of experience without objective context. The I who is not me. Nothing is fixed firmly in place. There are fragments of reality just as reality is a fragment of something mostly sensed yet unseen. This is an attempt to record something that was only ever a figment of a ghost's imagination. Yet everything that is follows that which is not. Behold I shall show you a mystery. If you had but the faith of a mustard seed. Listen to what you know not what is said. How does anyone ever know anything?
The time has come, the walrus said.

Narrative timelines sprawl sporadically. Relative to thought, like Time maybe it is a series of fictional memories of idealized past lives. What is fact and what is fiction is a topic as old as existence.
We were children of The Cold War, the nuclear age,birthed into an era of a world controlled by The Military Industrial Complex as it morphed into Big Brother, The Matrix, prized offspring, hope of the future, lost souls and cannon fodder for those who pulled the strings and pushed buttons.One big glorious conglomerate cluster of terrestrial foolhardiness. Everything is peachy. What could possibly go wrong? Wrong is right, right is wrong. Right? Wrong.

(Being born, moving backwards through space and time. Reverse osmosis.Syndrome.syntax,index codex reflex. Osmosis limbos, dimensional brain filters. You will awaken when consciousness expands.contracts, sign on dotted lines, signature goes where? There ? Now. Sleep forever. Peace be still.)




Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Written on 2026-07-10 at 15:17

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