No Longer Dreaming of a Gateless Gate

by AnimaLaughter

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a concept album based on a graphic novel being cowritten by some friends

Recorded by a wonderful comrade and trusty time traveller,
Jon Elfers.


released March 21, 2016




AnimaLaughter Worcester, Massachusetts

A constellation of songs and stories reimagining the ever-changing boundaries of our realities and inspired world

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Track Name: Children of the Sea
In timeless steppes, Death’s face erased- as
Kubla Khan enigmatically sprouts a tree
A tall, tall, very tall terrifically tremendous
sapling World Tree.

Reaching out talented tendril roots and ebony wood-wrought vines;
into a permanently nocturnal, underground sky.

Scandalized, sparks speaking to shape; dreaming up dyadic destinies just to fill the place.

The image of re-presentation, held NO touched NO accepted by Mind-
can so fast like flash fire, incinerate- So watch Raven and Coyote closely
tantalizing tricksters of the Past.

Unlike legends of fields of flame, or of ember shaped mountain deities
the Children of the Sea will rise up with the waves that co-create Us
fulfilling our own imaginations of the Aquarian Conspiracy.

For while we still bear witness to the phases of the Moon,
Lunar tides will shift perfecting preexisting feedback loops;
and the murky depths deep beneath the hydrothermal vents
will supplement the grinding of Hamlet’s Mill.

When we’re all powdered back into dust, by the al-l-chemical wheel
through the temporal unfolding of this cosmic story, informed by the Akasha field.
For when your own being’s shadow eclipses the sun,
dramatic spherical dreams will appear,
recreating an archaic coherency synergistically inspired by coalescing waveforms.

But as said function collapses back unto itself,
fragmented photogenic beings are remade with potential;
our hearts linked like Gaian minds through Space;
Brahman destined Atman transcending its former fate.
Transmitting our lessons back towards home
A Metaverse germinating gorged upon its own flesh.
Life’s complexity understanding its own co-evolutionary process.

As patient dreamers realize their dreams- cannot be the last.
Track Name: World Song
I want to be like the ravens, like the spider, like the moth.
Feel the pulse made manifest, by tremors of the heart.
Drifting helplessly in motion, spinning with the gyre.
As still the turtle moves through this dreamtime.

They are saying, Tanuki, Fox, and Coyote
Formulated a plan for the ‘coming end of days’
For they, could hear the Future now
Sung by the Panoramic Voice cantilating without making a single sound
They simply disengaged, from the suicidal pact man was crafting
With his gods; a delusional self-sacrifice determined by masterminds
Intoxicated, and quite fed up with Mother Nature’s laws.

And so with the help of Leaver peoples
And those who know Amitabha,
They believed in an unimaginable power buried within their tiny hearts.
Possibly by taking faith in their insignificance they could reclaim the groves
Where they once lived.

And they are saying, the story was sung all throughout the wood
Till every hare, moose, and marsupial had rallied to the cause,
Then Badger stood up before them with Weasel and Raccoon and
Led the fateful charge known as the ‘final coup.’
A buzzing filled the sky, as warriors chanted their battle cries.
Trillions of cicada, crickets, bees and butterflies
A locust storm one thousand kilometers wide
Rained down upon a gridded land, homogenized.
They sabotaged the machines of men leaving him helpless without his tools.

And then there was much rejoicing, for the surviving folk
Who relished the fact that all who came and died before
Had fallen for them. And so goes the tale of the Artificial Ape,
The immortal human, homo sapiens.
Track Name: Infinity Interlude
The feeling of infinity is feeling- and expecting nothing.

The only trick is,
to look a little differently at it.
Gift of our intellect,
Outsiders entranced by eyes, that hold their gaze, from within.

It’s one or zero but not two; It’s one or zero but not two.
Track Name: Children of the Fields
Amongst cherished fields- the Children played and
experimented with the many mystic ways,
learning from their Mother how to communicate;
they made sacred concepts out of all that they’d named.
Cautious of the Word in their subjugation of Outer Space

They empathetically constructed figmented meta-selves to relate
Telling tales of the journey without beginning or end.
The conjugated folk then saw horizons start to rise that’d surely do them in.

How is a soul? To cope with a language complex?
Why is a soul?

A tool, a triumph, a trap- a surface on which a story was set
in motion, where the ocean, “unsure, slowly, without impatience,”
sculpted shards of sea glass. And as mirrors the people reflected
upon the unfolding disaster.
Terrified and confused they forsook their own consecrated fields
and Rules, of which they’d spoken, to return a gift of which they knew they could never control.

So with haste the Children of the Sea set silence to patterns unpredictably
rising, before the tongue of the tide would finally return them. A sacrifice
whatelse to prevent the precession of sequenced seasons.
Dancing silent, smiling beneath the crystallized moonrise,
they wept and laughed, with Grace for the unspoken One.
The tongue buried far from the shoreline on a hill beneath a tree seldom seen.
Remnant relic dialect, analogic cybernetic component
posing insoluble problems and pragmatic yet preverbal
syntactic relationships. Whispered gestures and autoiconic messages
rending obsolete the cursed linguistic patterns of the past.

Now we speak without speaking.
Track Name: Death; of a World
We repeat:

“Our World is dying.

Forgetting diamond bodies that maketh up the Path.

What’s prehistory to those historians who don’t write?
What’s Culture but contagion, handed down through time?

Hermes-Aphrodite was crying, tears of acid cascading to the ground, lacking sound;
fire, without flame, but feeling sort of like water of a lunar tide gravitating towards Soul.

Was the dreaming well-worth the warmth of separation?
Where are your Daughters and Sons, and what is it that they‘ve done with their hands?
How could they have so recently forgotten the fornication, ambrosian Pleasures of the Cornucopia Grove.
An abundant garden world composed of: waves and quarks, jewels, dirt and dust, and
Mind-matter weaving meaning into a polyphonic chorus, suspended by a lyre,
Who softly sings with the strings and Muses’-ic of celestial spheres.

So how could you- just idly stand by as they imagine your garden womb into a prison?”

"It’s so wonderful to hear You-
asking but remember Child that the Learning never ceases
and while the questions are important its not the answers that you’re seeking.
The Restoration is- a process that’ll take as long as is needed, for
Amamnesia- is formally definitive of self-recovery.
Explorers of the depths beneath the folds of timely skin-

Dawn’s Original Face, beaming with the shadows
Of a masquerading hologram. As holons individuate
Differentiating between dissociating and integration.

Astral fire teaches light to be just as infinite
As stars shine outside of time but within galactic prerequisites,
Without the Eternal Mysteries, omniscience loses interest
Cause the only redeeming aspect of Life’s strange enactment, is the bliss,
Of ignorance- that makes all-knowing intuition, at the very least,
Somewhat bearable for us mortal Souls.”'
Track Name: Recapitulation
I’ve been waiting outside the beaver lodge; I’ve been wading inside the beaver lodge.
I am waiting outside the beaver lodge; I am wading inside the beaver lodge.
I will be waiting outside the beaver lodge; I will be wading through the beaver lodge.

I’ve been waiting for eons earnestly, manifesting myriad crystalline,
Colour cloud compositions consisting, of constellation conversation verses,
abstracted from their places but recontextualized by discriminant diversication.

Now We are learning to learn to learn and, lackadaisically progressing towards a, symphonic recapitulation of what Wasizilbe (what-is-will-be),
implemented by individual- notes, punctuated art-iculations.

Just Being.

I will be resplendent and decadent
Promiscuously spontaneous, Aziz-al-vish (as-is-all-Flesh), radiating Subjectiveness.

Track Name: Tao
In Tao, the only motion is returning.
In Tao the only motion is Returning.

An electro-magnetic turntable, spins without a wreck-ord.
generates A frequency storm, that simply just, goes unheard.
Whirlpool- bubble, descends to the heart, of Lake Winnipesaukee,
As the Great Spirit smiles down, from within, from without.

As above, so below.
It’s only a matter of time, until we know: that we know that we know.
And with new names for the Nameless, and goddesses and Gods of Space
we’ll transcend in Immanence- to interdimensional states, with
eight forms of Awareness. You Become a Being Becoming senselessly,
recreating what you’ve been all along.

Resonating to phonon chords, this organism is a light conductor-
of liquid, crystalline; maintaining a coherent quantum structure.
A vast Microcosm, mirroring Flow Consciousness.

compassionate Transducer of the Toros,

twisting back again upon itself.

In Tao the only motion is Returning.
In Tao, the only motion is returning.