The Earth Dethroned (poetic prose)



The earth, like the people on it, are like a train, Sebastian, told himself as he was traveling from St. Paul, Minnesota, to Seattle, Washington, and it is going in one direction, he noticed, and they think all is smooth he conclude (and so was earth going in the same direction): “Yes,” he said, “they think all is going well,” then he murmured to himself: “The thing is, it is not so, it just seems so, because they, like me, can’t tell one way or the other, if they are moving on this train or not.” Further, he said, “There are only a few folks who look out the window, now and then, if there were more, they’d all know we are headed towards a blockade.
Now, the earth moves the opposite way (it was originally moving in the first place), and the train is still moving in the old same (from its previous unaltered state), but the push against the train is now felt from the opposing force, something is moving against it instead of with it, the train accelerates, to fight the force.
Sebastian now agrees with his second self, (that person inside of us we seem to talk to, but never acknowledge to anyone but ourselves, and we never give it, or him or her a name) and he hears (listens to) the man in the seat behind him say: “…we have two forces and two systems, in progress here, Lord in Heaven what can we do. Because of its iron mass, the train doesn’t feel the opposing force that much, nor the folks inside the train. Nonetheless, it is there.”
The conductor tells the people, “…it is just a matter of time, and we’ll be to our destination, don’t worry.”
Sebastian, is worried though, and seemingly, it appears the man behind him is worried, in that, perchance, the train will not stop in time, hit the blockade before it stops at its destination, the train station that being, rather hit the blockade just beyond it, the train is going too fast, fighting the forces around it.
Sebastian, He sees out the window a black ray of light, ghostly and haunting, it seems to stop and plant itself right then and there, as if his window was a hole in space for it to seep through, and then as the train moves on, it shows up on the other side, so he notices (the opposite side of the train that is) the other end. He tells himself at this point, “I’ve learned something because of this, perhaps man can bend fate, or stop it for a moment, and that there is a gap between this and that, a gravitational gap some folks might call it, he calls it “hope” he feels someone, or something, has to curve man’s mind, like light, and speed, and you will find peace.
“Is this possible?” he whispers.
In any case, he concludes there was a gravitational field, that deflected light, this was his big break to creating peace, a lasting world peace, his so called stepping stone to his new theory.
As he sat back down in his seat in his cubical, he had to rethink what he had figured out, what was all this dependent on, for it surely was dependent on something? “Oh yes,” says the man behind him, “one person was really and solely dependent on the other,” so they both now concluded. “Yes,” said Sebastian, “we are in essence, one entity, and without God, we would not exist, God being the glue.”
Then Sebastian got rethinking his rethinking:
“What went wrong that caused God to create the flood?” In a way a rhetorical question, because he was questioning himself. That is, a question he had to answer for himself, at best it would be conjecture.
“It was not the situation, which was the flood,” he murmurs out loud, the man behind him hears, “but the problem, it was the problem no one looked at, which is always under the surface of the situation. It was perhaps the folks back then lived longer, and thus could build trains that had the maximum velocity of light, the speed of light that is (figuratively speaking), which is the total momentum of anything in the universe. That they were moving so fast, faster than the second-hands on the moving clock, faster than time, for example, the clock decreased to a standstill, accordingly, one was increasing as the other decreasing, as a result, there appeared simultaneously, unmeasured sin.
Next, He assumed, God might have—whom feel knows all— evidently didn’t take this into consideration, or if he had, he deduced from his hypotheses, and reformulated a living system, family members and so forth, would fellow what he observed, so he gave mankind good examples to go by, social comparison—if you will, yet he did not see, nor witness that mankind had obtained identical behaviors, consequently, irrespective of those he sent to set an example, therefore, he had to shorten life, because they didn’t follow the good example, matter of fact, he even said (referring to mankind’s sinful heart), “I never even imagined this…” so now, he limited man to 120-years of life, not 960, as it had previously been. He even developed a new theory, to slow man down, because he was going at such a rapid velocity, or pace, from good to bad to hatred of his own kind, to evil, and beyond, he broke the magnetic phenomena, known as one language, into propagation, or spread man’s tongue out, to a thousand different languages, that accelerated around the world.
Then God said, so Sebastian, concluded, “The faster you go, the quicker you come, to Armageddon, or in the case of this train, to the blockade.”
He knew it could be postponed—just as the train might be able to be stopped at the transition, if indeed he could lower the speed (in God’s case, or humankinds, that amounted to sin) and that was his theory, that being, the Earth Dethroned from mankind, and given back to Christ, to the point of man repenting.


2-2-2009 (No: 2561)

Poetic Review on: Phillip Ellis, Macabre Poet of Australia


Although best known in Australia, for his eldritch style poetic voice, Phillip Ellis (whom now is becoming international), is by nature and choice, a true young poet; he shows us the transcendent world, as did Edgar Allen Poe, in his poetry, and uses imagery like George Sterling. Some of his poetry, superb verse, is in line with Robert E. Howard, whom to me was a better poet than a novelist. I have read in these past three or four years much of his poetry, and the omnibus collection he has recently published “The Flayed Man,” I am waiting eagerly to receive in the mail to read: which I’m sure will become in time a classic in its genre, and sought after for its First Edition series. He might be considered a parallel to Clark A. Smith, Samuel Loveman, or H.P. Lovecraft (or all three), in that, he steps into the science fiction and fantasy world of verse, to metaphysical and psychological depths. Here he mixes the world of the hopeless with the world on its way to hopelessness. He shows us what is left to be exposed, graphed and investigated. Once read, ultimate beauty can be found, along with haunting, and profoundly pessimism dragged to the dark side of the conqueror. Much of his poetry lingers in the macabre: thus, here one can find the timeless gift of restless poetic moments. He is not for everyone, but surely is for the selected readers of this class, that has an immortal romantic path.

Perhaps the end product of Mr. Ellis’ poetry might be put this way: he offers the reader compelling thoughts on his world, society, and philosophy, and once read they are hard to be dismissed.