NAG HAMMADI

NAG HAMMADI

a pot in a desert
a jar, an amphora

tattered pages, set
like a timebomb
to wake us
from our sleep

that is why
it was not meant
to exist
not suppised,
to be found

and yet it wS
full of deadly turn
the world upside
down gospels

such a different voice here
recorded on the spot
of the resurrected
one himself

so clear here
so
different

you could never
be alloeed to listen

mission
almost fulfilled

JAR

JAR

gnosis
     in a bucket

gnosis
in a jar

gnosis somewhere
in the story you
are reading
commuting
     to work
down on the undergound

beneath
TS Eliot’s eternally
lost city devoid
of salvation

the subtext written
in a code
      beyond modern
comprehension
hidden

somewhere between the lines