Phantasmagoria

By Clive Alando Taylor

Phantasmagoria is a very pacy, thoughtfully engaging, imaginative, and poetically charged, spirited commentary of observational wit and theosophical wordplay of riveting humour poured into a sequence of real or imaginary ideas that are constantly shifting and affecting us all within a complex succession of daily events.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Oct 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546299783

Clive Alando Taylor

As a young boy at school, I always found myself playing with words & rhymes especially when it came to writing poetry, it wasn't the fact that I was especially gifted or talented but it was mainly my enthusiasm, and style & ability to be creative with words and rhyme in my own unique way, although in this day and age some may regard this as a small degree of autism but I’m not quite certain about that, as many of my peers could be just as challenging and inventive about writing prose. When I left school at the age of 16 I attended dance school and was as far removed from literature as anyone could possibly be, but I always kept a diary and also decided to study English Language part time. During break time and in between classes once again I would find myself writing & exploring various themes using rap, rhyme and spoken word to amuse myself and my fellow classmates with. At that time I didn't take it too seriously but I loved the fact that through expression along with the effect of creative writing was becoming an inspiration to me as well as a positive tool for expression.

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© 2018 Clive Alando Taylor. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 10/22/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-9979-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-9978-3 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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He That Has Nothing, Gives You Everything

P H A N T A S M A G O R I A

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FORWARDS*BACKWARDS

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P H A N T A S. M A G O R I A

I s it my turn to walk in the dark, well away from the bosom of beating hearts, only the soulless can hear me now, musical notes, without no sound, should I wish you well, before I leave, hoping you might find, the things I believe, as we disconnect, from the noisy crowd, for the isolation, in the stars that we found, it wasn’t my dream, to bring you back, somewhere along the pathways, to where it began, beyond the crossroads, it just wasn’t me, but I’m here right now, if you could see what I see, consciousness, is something profound, you can find it right here, If you’re looking right now, phantasmagoria, well that’s destiny’s place, where the rhythm of life, leaves no trace.

What if everything, was already pre-empted, what if all the possibilities were second guessed, what if the spirits, held you to account, upon the task of every thought that occurred within your mind, what if they told you, that they could only respond to every responsive move or action that you made, what would or could you possibly do if you were damned if you did, and damned if you did not attempt to react to the very same insane vibration that causes all things to shift and move, to interact and rearrange itself, until all things had for but one moment in time, settled within a state, content upon satisfaction, but only up until the cause of chaos would begin and resume again, throwing all things into upheaval, would you do something irrational, would you panic, would you resign yourself from this consequence, or would you challenge yourself to face it, to immerse yourself within the middle of the depths of the manifestation of such things that do not yet know how you intend to proceed.

I n the beginning the earth is still, but not yet dead, and yet hardly alive, of course there are planets and stars, suchlike in a constant state of limbo, but not dead, and yet barely alive, struggling for the spirit to ignite their scattered fragments, by the very same spark, that shocked and shook across the infinite ages of space and time, for all the things that are waiting for you, to greet you, to toil and impress upon you with their playful and meddlesome traits of behaviour, this is the past, no! This is the present, no! This is the future, no! This is ungodly, or the God you presume no! or perhaps the worst, and yet at its’ heart the best, as this is the very definition of sensibility and reasoning, this is the depravity of despair, trickling with trickery, treachery, deception, a snare, a trap, a lie disguised in the truth, capturing the very essence of your nature, the nature of the beast breathing and beating in your chest, this is reality awakening before the dawn has even considered the meaning of the dawn, this is the twilight before the sun even knows how to deliver its’ sunrise, this is the purpose why spirits are afraid to fly through the ever changing gate of ascent, descension, this is why the foolish things are called wise, as they are only the adornments of aesthetics, temporary clothing, the unpronounced naked maker of universal things, as everything already knows of whom, and of what it is by its’ very own name and by its’ very own nature, as it cannot go before you, nor can