By Richard Mather It was at this point I stopped dreaming and looked at the sky and saw what seemed to me a mirage reflecting upon itself...

By Richard Mather It is hard to get traction on a world that is constantly becoming something other than itself: not merely the loss and...

By Richard Mather When we were there in the crooked hell of that scarlet and black room, the world was a useless idol broken and beyond...

By Richard Mather Putting aside the extensive facthood of properties and things distributed in space, one has to wonder whether...

By Richard Mather “Our holiday has been turned into a day of mourning” -- Chaim A. Kaplan By lamp and by oil, we hunger the hours as the...

By Richard Mather Maya clouds -- sattva, rajas and tamas -- Encircle the throne of Krishna, the bright Abode of the ten thousand faces....

By Richard Mather Embosomed in stillful bliss no longer, My soul moves, and by degrees makes finite The substances of creation That...

By Richard Mather The world is folded in to every object And each thing or idea is the folding And unfolding of space, time and history....

By Richard Mather If the hammer is a symbol of the power of the hand, the hand is the product of the need for a hammer.

By Richard Mather In the beginning was the Act: an act of will: the death of God… Horrified at his own existence, God craved non-being....

By Richard Mather Adam is a dry rib but sinews are stretched, tissue and flesh fashioned. Man of Spirit, embodied. Descending the...

By Richard Mather There is nothing real anywhere, neither outside of us nor in us. I know of no being at all. Not even myself. Images...

By Richard Mather Kneading Substance [2706__0024] ebrah k’dabri - “I will create as I speak” I am kneading this substance into shape,...

On the other side of the optic glass, Ishmael's albino whale of the sky Leprously blemished, ghastly white.

By Richard Mather You can hardly say that I abide by the rules of political commitment or that I affect the diction of the dispossessed....

A tool for imitating movement, For the small things that penetrate, For the breath's expulsion ...

By Richard Mather It learns nothing. It does not remember, Cannot remember. It just is, repeatedly. Without memory, without life. A...

By Richard Mather objects are luminous: their light appears on the intellect’s horizontal plane, that boundary between knower and known.

Coldly satanic is the phantom moon whose hollow shell is the alien body of a god who hatched and died too early.

By Richard Mather Memory is a cloud wherever my body is; A fog of the virtual enveloping the actual. The past contracts to the present at...