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When Atoms Reach for Sacred Altars

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  When Atoms Reach for Sacred Altars What do you feel when you touch something sacred? Do you want to touch sacred art? Are we creatures bound by thermodynamics, driven by an instinctual urge to exchange heat, shed skin cells, and mingle our matter with the monuments we revere? To stand before a sacred masterpiece is to experience a gravitational pull—an irresistible desire to collapse the space between subject and object, to leave an oily fingerprint as proof of shared existence.  The gallery border is a social construct attempting to enforce absolute vacuum, forbidding the inevitable entropy of human connection. To reach out anyway is to assert that our physical reality is not separate from the sublime, but bound to it by the very matter we carry on our fingertips. Reaching across that barrier is a quiet rebellion against social decorum: a desperate want for quantum entanglement that collapses the boundary between ideal beauty and our messy, lived reality. Be Creative a...
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Obsidian static the puppet master

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Obsidian static, the puppet master.

(Verse 1)

The crevice opens

like a silent, dusty lung

Air thick with minerals and a thousand forgotten years

I'm rappelling down the sheer black

into a chasm's memory

My boots crunch on shattered polymer

No sound but the suit's respiration

But the stillness is a stage

The jagged walls, they lean in now


(Refrain)

The Paraknowing

a cold spike of dread at the base of the skull

It’s not a thought, it’s a wave

Static buzz. Who's the puppet

and who is the master?

High-tensile wires disappear into the light

The tightening

the silent pull above the gully


(Verse 2)

The godly face, brittle stone work

It emerges, eyes blank and unseeing

But it broadcasts a sharp spike of loss and profound love

My logic stutters, snagging on the input

An effigy, a sentinel

or just a mirror

I turn and see the audience waiting

Small, white figures, balanced stone totems

They are all part of it


(Verse 3)

The strings pass through my wrist

Not from me, but through me

I move, but the choice is an illusion

My hand twitches, the stone doll jerks forward

A terrifying defiance of my own mind

The proscenium arch is high above

I am the instrument

The performance has begun

I yearn for the violence


(Outro)

Just stone, I whisper

False

The silence is expectant

The strings tighten now

Fade out on a discordant piano chord








John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett, is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via Blogger, YouTube, Flicker, Facebook, Instagram and Deviant Art. 

Subscribe to JJFBbennett's private FB hub: https://www.facebook.com/share/g/18ythpSXPZ/

You can subscribe to my music via YouTube Music, Spotify, iTunes, Apple Music and Soundcloud

To support my art, feel free to donate via JJFBbennett through PayPal  

If you want to acquire JJFB's art creations as an NFT - John's Opensea NFT profile is https://opensea.io/JJFBbennett  


Copyright

This artwork is protected by U.S. and International copyright laws. Distribution and/or modification of the artwork without the written permission of the sponsor is prohibited.




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