The Matrix of Death is a masterpiece that, in its search for poetic dominance, covers an extensive portion of what poetry has to offer.
It includes a panoply of verse forms, sensations, emotions, themes, topics, subjects, recurring ideas, narrative poems, and all following aesthetic excellence that is very hard to find in the contemporary scene of poetry where everyone and his mother is a poet.
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Contents
1. Would you like to Kill Death?
1.1 Mysterium Tremendum
1.2 What to Make of The Matrix of Death
1.2.1 Purchase The Matrix of Death on Amazon
1.2.2 A Person is Behind This, not a Company
2. Invest in Your Poetical Know-How
2.1 Purchase The Matrix of Death on Lulu or Smashwords
2.2 Get the Most Excellent Poetry Work of The Present
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Would you like to Kill Death?
If it were that easy! I guess that the wish to kill The Death is not much of an original idea. Everyone that decides to dedicate her or his life to the health of others, for instance, is more or less a potential wisher of The Death’s death.I’m not talking about killing The Death, because such a thing would have dire cosmic consequences and would be an aberration of nature. I’m talking about simple, commonplace death, or what I learned as being death, at both gross and subtle levels.Excuse me the bluntness, but I mean here by death’s gross and subtle low planes of existence in which one can fall while still living, and that pose a much dire threat once one's life has ended and has left the body.Gross Death: the selfish, pathetic, ego-oriented, stinking, detrimental, and shallow environment where the dead are interred that, at the end of the day, is better to not visit.The ridiculous expressions of grief of the bereaved that the dumb dead did leave behind, pretentiously set in stone. Nothing but excesses of self-importance!Subtle Death: to me, this phrase is an oxymoron, and I should call this aspect of the teaching “Less-Gross Death” instead, but just let’s use that moniker for the sake of economy of words.Mysterium Tremendum
That inexpressible thing I’m talking about is not that inexpressible after all, and I went dozens of times through the process to bring that outrageous marvel from whichever (lower) plane it came.Let me explain. If you spend time in graveyards, sooner or later will come a moment in which you will start reading the names in the headstones.When you’re finally introduced to the inexpressible thing that awaits in the places of death to those who go to it, you must expect to be amazed by it. And you will believe me that you will.
What to Make of The Matrix of Death
I did a lot of work for you, and if you read this work you will know what kind of feelings, emotions, and ideas you’re going to find.To understand The Matrix of Death you have to imagine this situation. Let’s pretend you are a small-time photography student, and your teacher tells you to go to a cemetery or a graveyard to practice.You do it, and when you are there, shooting, having a ton of fun in the unfamiliar environment you fall to the planes of the spoken word, through beginning to read the names in the tombstones.Imagine if, paranoia or not, as soon as you do this you begin to see yourself reflected in triads of tombstones that each one of them has a name that evokes something familiar in your awareness, and that all together tell a self-contained story in a nutshell?Madness. You walk on and here and there, in an almost constant flow, the same marvel repeats, and repeats; on and on.And it goes on, repeating in other places of Death you visit. And it goes on and on, even when you visit graveyards in other countries.It sounds complicated, but it isn’t. If you didn’t understand, just reread it, and try it yourself sometime. You may win the poetic lottery too, like I did, and kept on winning.The poems in the series are the cherished objects I purchased with my winnings at Death’s Poetical Lottery of Signifier Madness.I guess this series can be understood without the explanation I just gave you because I never considered revealing this madness-oriented angle of the work, but I thought it over and decided that it would be much more of a trip if you know from what place I’m singing this poetry.Just grab your favorite ebook reading device, sit somewhere peaceful and comfortable, or better yet, read it sitting in your bed, ready to tuck yourself in and continue the book’s journey in your falling asleep soul.
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If academia is a vendetta, then poetry is a market of egos that sometimes I feel a repugnance to belong to. A calling out of those self-called poets that are far from being one in truth is required.
The Matrix of Death is that calling all contemporary poets who aren’t like me out. It’s something that I don’t care about in a sense.
I don’t care about being recognized as a virtuoso of poetry that signals (read: debase, demean and discriminate against) those that butcher poetry and dare call poems their psychoanalytic pomo psychobabble texts.
A Person is Behind This, not a Company
If you think that I’m crazy, pedant, and self-aggrandizing, I understand and I will try my best to convince you to the contrary.
Even with what is available for free of The Matrix of Death you can perceive that I don’t miss a beat and that I wrote the poems to the best of what my ability could fit the stricture of form.
I apologize because what’s given for free in the samples is like the lowest end in the scale of value as compared to the rest of the poems, but my struggling for excellence, and modestly succeeding is evident, even in those poems available for free. Can you deny it? That they are beautifully thought out, and harmoniously written?
Still, I consider the poems that I give for free, like 90-95% of my less-than-great work. I humbly see them as the less-good of the work’s poems, one of them goes as far as picking a subject that would raise big red flags in those that recognize the subject matter.
I’m talking about a topic I picked once, that I did choose not just because the subject is low-grade, old, kookish, conspiranoid matter, but also as a form of guardian in the threshold for this work, my poetical Magnus Opus.
An explanation? Sure. To put something that a big segment of the population may recognize as a mickey mouse subject for a poem is an artistic license that I took only once.
As some kind of corny, secular, and mundane scarecrow to keep away a specific kind of person. Or maybe not so much about keeping them away but more of producing an emotional response in them.
I’m talking about those that know all the conspiracy theories about extraterrestrials, intra-terrestrials, kooks, and hoaxes. Those who know, know what I’m talking about. Said scarecrow is one of the first poems in the portions of the work that are free.
Those that are non-judgmental and can overlook going on a tangent of picking a kitsch topic for a poem get to know lofty, spiritual, and cosmic-grade poetry of a superior transcendental caliber.
Because to be honest, kookiness is to be found there, and there only. The rest are all as elevated and spiritual pieces as I could make them.
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Purchase The Matrix of Death on Lulu or Smashwords
Digital editions, not hardcover
You can buy Vol. 1 on Lulu and the rest on Smashwords.
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When you click the links in the list below you are going to be taken to the respective sales portal. If you would like to try each book before buying please download the samples in the homepage.
Get the Most Excellent Poetry Work of The Present
If the day you die, the only full work of poetry you did read in your whole life was The Matrix of Death, then you can die being certain of having read a work that covers, almost a half Millenium of poetical forms; which is like saying, you can consider yourself as knowing the genre by a generous experience of it that you gained by means of reading a single work.
Yes, it's a very complete work that takes all the most perfect and strict poem forms and appropriates them without prejudices.
I’m not saying this work is the only poetry you need to read, no way!
Still, what I’m saying is that if you want to read a single work of poetry that will give you a basic background in more than a dozen different poem forms of the last five hundred years, then The Matrix of Death is for you.
It’s an excellent, harmonious work, that was a vehicle in the search for perfection.
It’s written in a way that makes it cosmic-grade poetry, even if it’s in English, a language that isn’t popular in worlds above and beyond. As far as this planet is concerned, I’m yet to see another poetry work that deserves to be ranked as cosmic-grade and deserving of popularity in higher worlds, except works that downright adulate said worlds.
It beats the false poetry of the present, which isn’t poetry but the plasticine with stray hairs and nail clippings of lazy individuals that didn’t take the time to learn the techniques of poetry.
I know, I know, that death is inauspicious and that would be a reason not to have anything to do with this work. Death stinks and it is depressive. Death is the end of the happiness we had because of those it takes away from us.
Well, just take it from me, it’s not anything like that for me. Also, I doubt it it is bad for everyone. Other than the actual physical act of going to a cemetery for sport, and breathing in a heroic dose of cemetery soil mixed with corpse skin bacteria. That, yes, I do consider it unnecessary.
Otherwise, I wouldn’t have added insult to injury not letting bygones be bygones and returning time and time against to the places that eat you alive, the atrocious abodes of the departed.
Moreover, I met some negative dead ideas emanating from death places that, although already dead per se, were in need of renewed, and sustained, over-killing. Once seen, I could not leave them standing, and I did everything in my poetic powers to bring them down with my counter-ideas.
It’s not that I saw myself entitled to become a bringer of universal truth from these unpalatable places to share with those that wouldn’t pass time in these places due to not being psycho-spiritually prepared.
More people should pass more time in these places meditating about the ephemeral nature of life and the material world to reach a higher understanding of the soul, the spirit, and God.
Make yours my most symmetrically excellent, metrical poetical beauty, and know that you are reading the long poem that became the escape valve of someone who was never scared of the dead areas of society.
First I wasn’t scared in the superstitious sense. As in evading the final resting places, but not knowing why. Then, when I started reading the tombstones' names, and the dead began to madden me, I never felt even a little, tiny, pea-sized quantity of dread. It was more a feeling of “how many rear ends to kick I’ll have found today at the end of the day.”
And finally, when the moment when I was having a hell of a winter morning in an urban mortuary, and a toady of the matrix came to disturb my peace, I didn’t have any repair in telling him, in a harsh way, to go to love himself and leave me alone.
Like I didn’t have any problem in risking serious injury when staying overtime in a necropolis and having to climb a tall wall and then having to jump fifteen-twenty feet to the ground, at the risk of serious injury.
It’s a long story, and if you stick around this site, I’ll furnish you as much info on it for free as my budget and time allow.
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The Matrix Of Death Vol.3 – LOVES OF THE DEAD
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The Matrix Of Death Vol.4 – HOMESICKNESS OF THE DEAD
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