Hicks's Eulogy

Not exactly poem, but not exactly an essay.

An ironic winery presses precious prose into sonic smoothness, while the laconic left hand mashes malleable minds into mathematical machines all while divining Ivan Panin through the passages of spiritual solipsism and sound somnolence.

And this is just the short introduction into a rambling regimen outside rigidity and rapture.

The Columbia Broadcasting System measured Theodorus more for illicit ends than elementary edicts founded on love, laughter and truth. They sight us through the idiot box beyond the aqueous transmissions of sound weapons called truth tellers, called fact checkers, who not through the connection to the ironic winery, are demoniacally nomeclatured more than illicitly touched.

Cowpies in the universal pasture threaten the semblance of all notion, of all exertions man-made since a soul a million times magnified beyond the spectrum of his magical brethren got the gist of both the religious and numerical hierarchy. The numerics are real, the spirituals are real, and the relations between them are beyond real when the variables are aligned such that a Zen-like knowing, a bell curve comprehension is reached.

And some folks are really in tune, with or without the aids of the material or the chemical.

And the pancreatic chimney born of 20th century ingenuity and indignation inside 20th century insanity and immaturity became the shepherd's dog to the flame of conscience, of altered perception, of belief without the ideas expressed in stone but in sound.

So, the altered ones have laid the path before us, and let it be repaved by the artists of now!

Reviews

[Tim Lion]

Hicks will always live on in us. this is brilliant sir. pure prosey poetic madness that warps the brain in cowpie Zen.

[NightShade]

I just stepped in a psychedelic Chao PI... This goes beyond awesome! Here we have to contemplate the mathematics of Truth and Beauty. F*****g incredible! Another one for the favourites archive.

[Blue Moon Ice Cream]

Maybe it's because I don't know who Hicks is, but I have to admit that this made very little sense to me. I was impressed, though; the words flowed nicely and naturally. Sorry I can't offer anything else.

[joshua deathdealer]

I loved the imagery in this write as well the references to spirituality and mathematics. Excellent work.

[Nobody.]

This IS prose poetry...and, in my humble opinion, some of your very best work! If I were you, I would write my a*s off in this style. You do it well.

Cheers!

P.D. I can see some Hicksian ideas popping around in there nicely.

[Ruth]

You do prose extremely well love, makes a difference. this is seriously potent! You enrich your work with such deep metaphor...that is how it should be, allows the reader to do a little of their own interpretation :) xx

[Matthew Smith]

An excellent example of wordplay. I really liked this, man; there were some really wacky twists and turns, ups and downs. A roller-coaster of metaphors, of words within words, within words.

Not exactly a poem, not exactly an essay. A poessay! Nah. Let's just call it spoken word.

Great stuff. Cannot stress that enough. Your last sentence both concluded and, well, defined the entire piece. You've quite the repertoire of words.