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  phase 3: chaos kai nomos


Category 5: Backlash

Section Index

  1. Metastasis VII: Tore
  2. Metastasis VIII: Uninvited
  3. Metastasis IX: Torn
  4. Dialysis IX: Syllogy XXI: Faith No More

  What's Related  
  Subsequent Pages - Poems  

Phil John Kneis:
Luxor / Hurghada, August 11th/12th, 2002 - P#195

I need to stop it
need to end it
end it all
inside of me
for that's the battle to be fought
that's the fate I must now change
that's just all that keeps me here -
cut her loose
and see it all
see what you never ever wanted to see this way
see what makes her less a mate
see what things it are that divide you
things that despise you
nasty (irrelevant) nitpicks and moods
remove all the positive, all love and all friendship
remove all intensity, obsession, devotion
(I'd die for her a thousand times)
and pile it up
and make a stake
and let it burn
burn away the love
burn away the happiness (that never was allowed to be)
burn away the bond
burn away the spell
and look at the shabby little rest
a pile so small you can't even see
there's nothing to see
irrelevant nonsense that makes me feel irrelevant now
take her empty pile of foolish deeds
enlarge it with a microscope
and let the sun
go through the scope
and burn it in my heart
so that I'll never forget
the pain
of loving in the highest possible ways
but not be loved back
and not seeing it
so love's labor lost
makes free me again
but why, o why, doesn't it work?
there's one small stone that noone can break
and I'm under it
no matter what
no matter how
so take me, Anubis, to Osiris,
and let it be done
for I can't be like that any more
it's getting darker by the hour
I used to stop it
make it
up to a point
until it tore ourselves apart
the final steps I just can't take
it'd be a lie
I just can't live
I can't condemn her in my heart
I can't see things that are not there
I can't just tear my heart asunder
or glue together
what's apart

August 11th/12th, 2002

Phil John Kneis:
Hurghada, August 19th, 2002 - P#196

there's no solution to be found
there's no way to work this out
direct confrontation's not an option
this would make her share too big
would entomb her in my grasp
I wouldn't want that
wouldn't do that
not to her
my strangest love,
this love supreme,
yet unrequited,
still the reasons I don't know
what I sense is just confusion
and signals contradict'ry so
and maybe, inside of her,
on some hidden level
unconsciously, probably,
she knows there's a chance
and doubts but her thinking -
but maybe I'm wrong
and never there was any chance just for me
maybe I acted too silently,
too shyly at first, then all of my asking
may've just been too strange, too unknown a thing with me
yet I'm not into courtship
I'm not into bribing my way 'nto her heart
don't wanna send flowers
unless she wants it
don't wanna come in
unless I'm invited
for anything else
would be violation
of what's in her heart -
so I'm standing back -
and try be a friend -
a strange one, for sure,
yet how could I not?
and how could I love her
and not stay a friend?
that doesn't mean
I'm still having hope (I'm not)
that doesn't mean
I wouldn't proceed
to lead a life
devoid of her
and let my thinking
my heart

August 19th, 2002

Phil John Kneis:
Hurghada, August 19th, 2002 - P#197

torn apart
and in between
all in-betweens
just hold me back
and keep me trapped
inside one frame of seeing things
I have to evade it
and cut but the bond
and make it be over
and over and out -
that's reason here speaking
my heart it is not
and reasons of others -
am torn apart inside of me
am still in love and must not be
it's up to me
to make this work -
for this cannot be
it must not continue
or must never show -
so if it's not possible
I have to pretend
and have to evade
those moments that raise just
the doubting the doubt
the seeing of things that just are not there -
and a love supreme
can only be love
if it's being returned -
and this to happen
just cannot be rushed
just cannot be bought with endless attention
so this is the end
my new-found friend -
or have I just lost you completely by now -
am torn inside
and lost is my mind
and changed has so much -
it wasn't returned,
at least but I felt it
and know what it means
and that there's much more
than living along
but this is the end
and now I could rest
have seen far too much
and that which I haven't -
I fear it would tear me apart even more
and faith is illusion that now has to end
there's neither an end
nor a beginning
is one
and the same
and torn between
and torn apart
the words, like love
can never end
just take a break
and seem in halt
when hidden just
their substance is

August 19th, 2002

Phil John Kneis:

Faith No More

Eichwalde / Berlin / Hurghada / Luxor - March 3rd - August 31st, 2002 - P#199

Rated R




the things you've heard
the things you've read
the things you were told
the things you were fed
the things that were pushed into memory all -
are words they - or substance?
are filled they or empty?
or filled once they were, but then emptied have been
by fixest traditions,
beliefs burnt in stone,
beliefs but deprived of what once made 'em shine
and how do you talk now?
yes, how do you speak?
and how do you see it,
see it all,
in whole or in part,
in chaos or order,
about the explained,
from the beginning

or back, 'round and 'round?
and forward perceived what backwards is headed?
and how do you read,
yes, how do you do it
when texts become golems,
are creatures themselves,
just made by the words once then spoken to clay
are walking they now
are talking they now
are stalking they now
the earth and her peoples -
so, how do you read?
and what are you doing whilst reading those words?
so, how do you read?
with a mind fully grown - or believed but to be -
or still stunned with the wonder and learning with joy?
with innocence lost - or innocence holding?
but texts are not innocents
they never were
and never will be -
and yet, do they see?

and minds filled with wonder
and full of excitement
and minds full of spirit
and spirit themselves -
held back but they are
by rules once imposed
by rules of enslavement
and words not of wisdom but seeking control -
encage those the faithful
and fooling the hoping
betraying the loving -
and raising just demons where spirit should reign
belitt'ling the godheads they say they adore
and texts become symbols and sacred, believed,
and split is the union
and words replace wisdom
wherever, however, whenever and so,
and truth is an f-word assigned to the dull
wherever, whenever, whatever which field -
and slaves we become
of words without substance
and faith is no more.


dreams that were
dreams unseen
dreams that were and aren't no more
dreams that once the truth to bear
the truth to shelter
truth to make
dreams that once assumed to live
assumed to carry all that is
assumed to bring the truth to light
that hidden once
and now is seen
and now is hidden
once for more -
and hidden's open, one's the same,
and essence here
is what's at stake
and dreams so haunted
dreams unseen
and dreams are myths
and dreams are faith
and dreams it all
and dreams no more

real this game of dreams in making
real the words
and real their acts
real the dreams in all their pleasures
all their aching
all their pain
all their givings and their takings
all their channeled wisdom-giving
all their damage
all their gifts
all this all
in truth once born
in lies now vested
lies discrete
and lies so many
lies so plentiful and pleasant
lies so beautiful and rich
of sweet a taste
and kindest sound
lies and truths and truth-made lies
and truth no more
and lies no more
and one, the same,
and one, one essence,
one, conjoint,
one, disjoint,
and hath no fury
but the rage
experience of loving
experience of joy
experience of living
just without
the soul
within the waking
in the making
in the trying
bites the dust

skin-deep truths
and skin-deep lies
all arranged to make it seem
so seamlessly
so without effort
through and through
through the ages
through the regions
just one message
just one dogma
just one lie
just one simple truth that's not
just one game of make-belief
just one dream that can't be dreamt
that can't be made
and can't be real
can't be made
by false illusions
false authorities and myths
what's the game
and what's the essence
what's the maker of the minds
what the keeper
the destroyer
what's the link
that joins them both
and clouds a truth
beyond the names
beyond the myth
beyond the narrative of lies
the truth to lie
and lies beneath

// //
and lies above
all other things
descending thus
to dark a fate within the souls
a fate of burying what's true
of hiding all
that's here not wanted
that's here unseen
and unattained
and unattainable at all
so shalt I seek
what can't be found
or shalt I not
and just
believe the lie
that keeps the truth
from coming true
and live once more -
so, shalt I hope
or shalt I bow?
or neither but
the path to be
the path to go
the path to know

// / //
and truth a game but
truth a play
truth's a truce between the lies
standing but
like lone a tree
inside the desert
Lot in Sodom
or is truth
a greater thing
that's not alone
and not appears
a manifested thing?
is truth not essence
truth not spirit
ain't an element it but
an element beneath the lies
beneath the dust
and mortal coil
beneath the games we win and lose
going on
and waiting just
to at the end
appear at last
the last thing standing
the only thing
that's kept untamed
kept unperverted
truest form
behind the shadows?

/// ///
but essence's lost
in forms too strong
in forms perverted
forms of force but
not of spirit
forms believing
in themselves just
forms that bend
what they were built for
forms are liars
forms are prisons
forms are carriers of myths
unmake the things
they are to make
and make the things
they should unmake
forms are content
content form
forms are text
and forms are words
and words are spoken
and words are made
and words are altered
don't appear just
have a history
their own
are a process
not a thing
are a force
that's neutral not
are not essence
but a form
make a truth
that's just their own
and not just essence
but existence
too deceiving
too obscure
too invented
too contracted for a purpose
too corrupted
to be true
words but kill
their inner sense
golems made
by golems past
by golems present
golems future
make themselves
speak themselves
make the myth
and make their truths


non sum
sed eram
at sine memoria
sine temporibus
sine et cum
vita incognita
vita delecta
scripta, non scripta,
scriptura haeretica
sancta, haeretica,
divina, humana,
una, eidentica,
vox intra voces
species fallax - species vera
una, identica,
me voces includan
me tunc inspiran
y yo
intra linguae disparante:
no soy yo
soy yo no
yo no soy
soy no yo
nel todo il mundo
en tutti le cosas
e tanto y cuanto
je m'ai si perdu
not sic encontrante
quid ist verum
quid est veritas
the sum of it
y niente
et nunca más

mais je n' sais pas
la choix, la mienne,
and who I am
is what I am
is what I can be
is what I can see
and all what I see
und all' was ich seh'
is gone in a moment
momente so neu
momente so alt
und old est new
und in id all
les choses nouveaux
v novych mirach
nova tempora entunchôn
finding all the times that new -
novum vetum but
y stary, neos -
les buts to find
is what I need
but como fare
come live
comme to talk
when all's so muddled
all's so lost?[2]


seen, unseen
heard, unheard
felt, unfelt
made, unmade
and certain's nothing
places empty
and vacant spaces
vacant places
vagrant thoughts and hopes inciting
fills the emptiness with hope
fills with faith what knows no future
fills with questions not but answers
answers too contrived t'be true
still believed
a myth created
myth believed
a myth deceiving
yet inobscured by disbelieving
seen, unseen, 'tis all the same
heard, unheard, so where's the point
felt, unfelt, and all stays numb
and made is all, and unmade nothing
all's with substance filled that's screaming
substance-dreamers dream the world
dream the dream
and don't you ask
and don't you tell
and don't you want
to seek the truth

truth's an object for the dull
dull 'cause still believe they do
believe, however, has been made
created by who can't believe
who can't just fathom what we are
want to cage us into prisons
building walls and fences just
all's too easy
all's too neat
all's to tidy
don't you see?
all the answers we are given
are just poor excuses all
just attempts to see beyond
to see what's out there, but we can't
we can't when still in terms we're thinking
terms that try define a world
that just defies all definition
for not finite it but infinite
limited not but unlimited
existence not but essence dreamt
essence converted
and essence made personal
'n all of us

see you the screen or the paper in front of you?
hear you the voice throwing words 'nto your face?
see this you can
but see you the maker, the voice behind voices
the mask behind masks
the essence behind?
or is it just forms
here posing as answers?
they display just
and cannot talk
can't answer but
and dead they are
and dead a thing you can't rely on
can't just make your future out of it
what's a book
but deadest letters
speaking words we don't create
we can contain them, can just herd them
make them, we can't,
we can just inscribe them till language they form
words are not words
language is form
the words behind the words
the logos behind
is what we can't catch

// //
and bound by existence
and bound by all boundaries
bound by frontiers that just make us seem smaller
limits in thinking, not space, never space:
nor time, never time,
for thought is eternal
ubiquitous always
it's not just conditions that shape who we are
and being doesn't make consciousness
it may contribute
may incite
may inspire
or inhibit
but minds can be free
and all education
may worthless just be
if structures are taught
and thought is contained
so see you our schools
and see you our magès
they don't have a clue
and teach from some books
and teach not the wisdom spirit and love
so show me a book so impeccable
and show me a thinker adorable
they all are just fragments, and time is their judge,
so take what you can
and throw them away
there are no bibles
no book can be holy
for paper is structure
and history lies
they're words just,
the logos they bear
restricted by structures to hold human power
exploit just the hopeful
destroying their faith
unmaking their spirit
and turn them to sheep that now need a pastor
for captured they are
and slaves they've become


all's so strangely skewed and veered
certainties turned upside down
and disappeared, won't come again
and all's in shadows
all's in masks
all's in doubt
and dubious
in all the places
'n all the times
in all the tempests
all in vain
and desp'rate seeming -
where's the truth
where's the hope
where's the faith
and love, 'bove all?


hear you the names
hear you the places
hear you the dates
see you the A and the B and the C
made by some facts that are spoken and verified
haunting us still
pushing us still
capturing future and present alongside
living the past
haunting the days
seeing a structure while all is just flowing
and nobody knowing
what may just come next

names are just labels
heroes are humans with labels attached
dehumanized then
to lead us astray and keep just the myth that governs the thought
and faith is constructed
faith is remade
faith is a person that's set not in woods but cities of men
and tells them to do things
and tells them to die
to stop with their lives and sheepishly follow the words of the few
what is it with men
that all they can do
is try to make others just think like themselves?
convince them of something that's personal preference
and dumb just all down
till all's so leveled
all's so plain
all's so irrelevant
and easily crafted
easily made into something most similar
and edges are lost
and language controlled
fuck that, obey not
and don't you be fooled
and newspeak don't use
don't let them control you
and don't let them herd you
and don't let them lead you to follow your butchers right into your grave
for still it is true
that thoughts can be burnt just like people and earth
forget not, no, never,
and rarely forgive: 'cause people don't learn
and people don't change,
just few of them do,
and if it looks bad
it's probably worse

hist'ry is stories
stories are told
stories are made
and stories can lie
enact not the past
enact just the present
and show them a faith that's just diff'rent and new
yet who do you trust?
and who do you trust with speaking for you?
so share but your trust
divide it and split it
and don't let them grow on you
don't let them grow
don't institutionalize
for blindness ensues when sight so impaired by judgement so partial

// //
see you the narrator
see you the voices
there is an orchestra behind every move
hay banda
and everything
is artifice
and nothing natural around here
this all is made
and unmade, never
all accumulates and grows
just like demons raised the structures
raised by greed and wanting potency
lie they will to you
present you their narratives
while moving themselves quite out of the pictures
so don't you be fooled
and watch and see
and don't you believe the lies that they feed you
their history all
their crafting a past that leads to a future of own their conception
it's just a contraption
for there's no direction
and neither prescription
nor determination of what to ensue
that all comes from hindsight
and interpretation
beware you the voices
no voice of authority
can ever be true
is always a liar
and cages you in


can't see anything
all's too filled
all's too talkative
all's too loud and numbs all down
all's too fixed on making a case
all's too pushy
all's invasive
all's just out to get to you
get your whole attention span
get to you
and make you their own
make you their pawn
and make you believe
they don't want your questions
they don't want your input
they don't want you thinking and don't want you pushing them
they'll say they're just doing what they do for you
they'll say they're just out there helping you
they'll say anything
they'll pretend and deny and may follow suit
you don't have a point
no case to be made
don't you see,
it's democracy
or education
or religion
sanctities not to be questions
sanctuaries not to be bothered with doubt
and you're the intruder
you're the invader
you're what disturbs them in crafting their world
they'll always find reasons for how to exclude you
they'll always find reasons for making you different
making you other
and stand out as freaks
there is no other
there's just own
the devil's own is what you'll be called
and evil is all they don't understand
and don't want to deal with with methods sincere
so don't you see,
the signs are there
but still, they aren't
for it just mustn't be


and what to do
becomes a question too impossible
too indicting and too pressing
what's the truth
and what's the path to seek and find it
if it can - at all - be found
what's the path
and what's the directive
ain't it just fear that drives us the most?
fear of not finding what's right
fear of finding it and not knowing we've found it
or her or him
what does it matter
can't we see?
fear of trying leads us nowhere
just regrets and sleepless nights
what's the future we let go?
what's the past that could have been?
why's the present like it is?
fear of asking
fear of knowing
fear of knowing what to ask
fear of knowing what to question -
for if we succeed,
what's left to do?
won't again we fear the choice to 've been false?
won't again we turn our heads apart
think with the brain just, ignoring the heart?
and right is left
and left is right
and centers shift to either side
it's just the politics of the mind
outdumbing the politics of the heart
no politics, please,
we're lost anyway

so how do you do it
when all's so confused
when all directions lead just nowhere
when up is down and down is up
and there's no center course to follow
compromises aren't exciting
niceties just seem so wrong, cannot be trusted,
so maybe it's better to just make a choice that has to be wrong
and leave the right one for more difficult times?

choice or not
but is there any?
see we at all when see we should? is there a choice, a course to be followed,
or is there just chaos, a muddle unbearable
a knot knit too tight
expectations too different
unwritten an outcome
and yet unbelieved?
is faith a friend
or leads it astray
and pushes us nowhere, and misses the key?
so where are we going
and where have we been?

// //
will need we a piper
a pied piper
to lead us astray
but lead us at all
and lead us to meadows that should be of grass
and creeks full of water and everything pleasant,
instead but we're led
to meadows of bones
and rivers of blood
to fields of fire, despair and destruction?
so where's this salvation that promised us was?
and where is the savior we're led to believe in?
so what's when we see
that those were just stories
and stories they'll stay?


appear all now must 'cause all is at stake
climb down now the path, see what is fake
construe that it's made, not just found
seek you the key to it all
and find you the lock now
and turn just the key
see it's alive
can be made


don't let them bind you
don't let them lead you
don't let them blind you and tell you it's nothing
that all's just gonna be alright at the end
that thinking is bad
and difference is evil
and that there's a heaven
and that there's a hell
and that it's just them who can save you and guide you
fuck them
they just want to bind you
and just need to keep you in all that they stand for
so see you the signs
and see you the structures
and see you what makes you a different beast

they'll say they have saved you
they'll say you'll get lost
they'll say you agreed
they'll demand you stay loyal
they'll say all has changed, that the past just was different
they'll say you need guidance
they'll say you need others just like you and them
they'll say there are things that just need to stay holy
they'll say there're traditions to follow and oaths to be kept
they'll say there's no room for an interpretation
they'll say there's no freedom, just rules to be followed
they'll say it's just all for the good of the planet
they'll say you are different, and chosen a people
they'll say there's a birthright, and that it is holy
they'll say there's authority not to be questioned
they'll say that they know what's right and what's wrong
they'll say that some godhead has spoken to them
they'll say there are signs and wonders that prove them
they'll say that you cannot apply worldly thought
they'll say there's a line between us and the rest
they'll say there's a truth and it's written and fixed

how can it be
that the bad guy, Pontius Pilate,
asks the right question,
saying, quid est veritas, what's truth?

how can it be
that crimes committed 'gainst so-called criminals
are even worse
but still condoned?

how can it be
that those questioning the powers that be
are called heretics, witches or traitors,
and freedom's a sin?

// //
all's just dogma
all's just faith
there's no reason
reason's dead
states are religions
they worship themselves
and woe to those that look for truth


once we were dreamers
once we believed
the dream has been taken away
and faith has been stolen
and hijacked by thugs who crave just for power
power's not money
power's not land
power is people and thoughts and some words
but truth is lost
and god's just a ploy
and sheep we've become
and all is just fiction constructed as fact
and truth is defined
and narrative all
and duty's the key
don't you defect
don't run away
just be a patriot
follow the lead,
the voices of authority,
they'll answer your needs
they'll end all your pain
wherever, whenever, however and so,
and god is great and god is us
and you're a sinner to be saved
and we're the leaders of the people

oh just shut up
and fuck it all

August 31st, 2002

Endnotes for this Category

18.3.4. FAITH NO MORE:

[1] Essence: and in that path / that is the best / probing it all / seeing it all / and in the mythos / don't you lie / not trusting / not serving / the myth-speakers / the myths / that are false / the false-speakers / false priests of falsehoods / don't you fear / the truth then / inside but
[Transliteration: tôi en porôi / tôi men aristôi / ta pant' skeptôn / ta pant' horôn / kai tôi en muthôi / mê pseudêis su / mê pistôn te / mê doulôn te / muthologois / muthois tois / kakistois / pseudologoumenois / hierôn tôn pseudôn / kai nun mê phobêi su / talêtheian / tên entos de]
[2] no way

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