Heteropholis (1998)

Heteropholis (1998)


Leicester Kyle

"Bound beneath the heavens in a reptile form"



(for "Heteropholis" - a Comedy of Form)

I think of you in English so frequent and deserved
So separate in the middle age from one another
Despising not the lower form nor longing for the higher
Content you are my hero Hey! You people. Mentor, too
Take note and hold your place and see the burning round
Where the happiness doth lie the albedo and fohn
(many are extant and composition by the short the swift today
Perhaps, the incense is necessity you think, of me



An angel who likes oral sex your dreams are
that you dream of; hanging around
and calling you sir; pure, and never
unseemly seen with wings.
Good magic here, at work on bed and bench.
Here private steam of scented roses
cooking up a paradise on plate and
I am your home help.
O Orchidaceous Day!
Be full, I will say.
Be innocent in rapture and pure,



My pet
my prize
my small nubility
my green Toheroan scurry in the scrub
my sister/brother
my Odzone imp

you thrive!
Your moss-gloss skin
is lichen after rain
fresh on the bark on a mountain tree

My freshet
my undercover agent of an extra-city world

your stillness is
an overwhelm
of life beneath
and sense-surround

Your vertically-pupilled
unblinking eye

is clearly linked to a pretty active brain
and I often wonder what’s going on in
there and if you have like your cousin a
vestigial third eye to interpret this en-
vironment so alien to your native home
from which I cruelly took you one cold
day last June when you basked on the
branch between showers


O fern-green thing
from a spirit world
too cold
to scuttle or
to panic-fall

My little pakihi peri

Your trust is angelical

Rest on my hand

Run as a herring
at high tide
on the table
as the wall
in flight

at home
with honey
and Aussie crickets from the hedge

My supra-surface visitant —
don’t hibernate or hide

live here like a silent mate

My oracle
you are
my depository
of self
and apartment lore
my little totara-trick
manuka midge
my totem-stick


You were
before the fall
of forest
when hills smelled new green
and valleys bathed in bloom

before the people came.

You are my golem.
I worship you
would sacrifice myself if it was at
all useful to be of such benefit to a
reptile as it is I sacrifice the lives
of many insects and time to sus-
tain you but I principally wish to
declare that you are to me the link
with a world that might yet prove
to live


O Heteropholis —
be spirit-guide
be medium
to me


My Self6

I’ve green wings and a silver tunic down to just
above my knees. I live in a terrarium,
on honey and water.
if you called
would see me on a branch
in a dream of paradise
and still
I’m diurnal, and of my kind in three celestial
hierarchies three choirs each:
Seraphim Cherubim Thrones Domin-
ations Virtues Powers Principalities
Archangels Angels
I was an intelligence not destined to form; I
took dispensation for the privilege of
place, to be native under rocks on
twigs in flesh and species viviparous
content to be created thing with full
employment being
My world is dry my food is angels’
food and from my perch I see the
clouds my sky.
Once I looked down on them and kept a uni-
versal watch on rain on spiral storms
on clear and decay on lightning
crowns white weather at the poles.
(they shield us)


Now I look up
and read the signs

In my Angelic eye my Heteropholis
eye that never closes my spectacles
which I clean with my blue tongue,

not blinking my glory-graced verti-
cally-pupilled eye

which sees this

and this

a river on the world,
the weather,
running on a universe of steam.


My Species8

Angels are intellectual natures at the peak of
creation substance bodiless created
when seen we are like fire of light
we have insight by intuition, and do
not ask
We are the nominated guardians of human
kind employed to free the hindered
(so Thomas says whose mind was
nearest to Angelical and his life there
-fore abbreviated).
We had other names
Now I have a new name explicit, with a body
reptilian and low. I have legs I have
place and by the same dispensation
still have mind,
so I
with my lidless eye
watch out
and with my feet
reach places
wings would once have flown


My Foot9

My foot is miracle designed. Toes bones ten-
dons muscles blood-vessels and skin
are separately tasked and contribute
to the organ overall.
The ventral surface of my toe is broadened,
and has a number of transverse lam-
ellae like pleats. These are covered
with fine curved setae, subdigital.
Near its fine end each seta divides to several
branches, each with an expanded tip.
As I place my foot, these broad tips
are pushed firmly against the sub-
maximising adhesive contact
Just under the skin of the toe are a number of
large blood sinuses. These act as
cushion, enabling the under-face to
follow all the roughness of the sur-
maximising adhesive contact
A special bone in the hind-feet acts as a swivel
allowing the foot to adhere while I
I can bend my whole foot backwards
can run up glass and on a ceiling
(which is almost wings)
if I wish
(but I don’t)
if I had wings
(I hide them
for they are terrible)


My Employment10

I from my branch
in my glass case
watch with my lidless eye
the clouds
forever swimming on

and watch
each day at dawn
type cloud and movement

as I read my guarded client’s mind
for signs

so I read the sky! the sky!

and see
( beyond the throne
on which there sits
a crumbed and scattered firmament

which I catalogue
according to the native terms:

( as the sun rises )
accreting to the west,

a touch of Nimbostratus
in the far N.W.,

some tattered Stratus
blows from the sea
in the northerly.


Today will be cloudy till 3.0, with a glimpse
of the sun and some light rain
will break to showers. It will be
North winds prevail at first, but later turn
The Barometer will fall in the morning to
996 hectopascals, and later rise
to 1008 at 9.0, after which it will
fall again
max. temp: 17
min. temp: 11
Expect heavier rain tomorrow, especially in
the morning — about 26mm — with
dark skies
today is emissary
a bigger presence soon
NOTE:I’m good at judging air
pressure when stretched
out flat upon a wooden
surface. Contractions or
expansions in the grain
pass through my repto-
gelic feet into specialised
bones, inducing levels of
euphoria that I interpret
As I do my care-giver’s
fondness for fellatio
(as I think I do)


You, and others, might guess from this that
a falling barometer has an erotic
effect upon me in precise propor-
tion to the gradient of the isobars
I neither confirm nor deny this
I do not need to
Angels are never wrong
Geckos only rarely
Observe with care the effects upon society
of the adiabatic katabatic and the
fohn, of how many murders there
are in Marseilles when the wind is
out of Africa
and lesser accidents.
In Paradise there’s morning there’s evening
and there are lovely dews
sidereal eternity
whose attractions must not be
Being personally part of a quality that is
inestimable (contributing to a
and being (so very minutely)
is a thrill
However, Angels ( like all created things )
are imperfect and nervously seek
the new.


Restlessly we sail the skies in glass-bottom
boats searching and watching the
(Our mediator between space and
It breeds in region but is not con-
Weather has no age
O Heavenly Choir sing
at the beauty of the air
at Atmosphere
the clouds
fresh breath
fresh thoughts of heaven”

We praise the Presence who in
better days stitched up this world
with such domestic taste.
Wonder, and prospect of change,
retain us in vocation
though the Power diminishes
Aeon by Aeon
[but not me who, on request to
the Throne, was spared angelic
duty and relieved
to independence].


My Mate14

[My caregiver —
to his sex
to my euphoria
at the approach of a depression]
We angels, being guides, are observers of
nature and curious
We congregate in worship and so we are
curious as to other intimacies
My interest in fellatio is because it is visi-
ble; I can observe both ritual and
on his bed by my terrarium.
This is a studio apartment (in a
tower block in Remuera).
My caregiver has no female. From obser-
vation of his ways (behold they
are so various) I have learned
of pleasures denied my reptilian
He grows amorous as the barometer falls,
which is often at full moon. His
thighs taughten. Sensing from
my wooden perch I see him fes-
tinate as the day goes on until at
dark he rings for a Working Girl
With the paraphernalia of my kind such a
practice cannot be mine. I have
a pair of swellings at the base of



the tail right behind the vent.
These contain my copulatory
organs which because of capture
so soon after incarnation I have
not had occasion to use
so I compose myself with vigi-
lance and diligence
by looking out the window
where I see
A congregation of cirrus clouds to the
with streaks
along the hills
like this:
…… ……----- ……
The weather map is this:

There will be rain along the western hills
arched clear over the foothills
and altostratus thickening over
a blue day
a warm day
and soon —
a hot wind.
[Things are beginning to blow up


There is another map
that brings the same

It is cyclogenetic
It is tropical
It is sticky and the hot air lasts for
days to spite my imprisoner my
guard my subject serendipitous

and makes for him a quag a miasma
of lust in which he writhes in longing
for sedation

or a partner to transcend the flesh.

I’ve seen it all, and pity

It’s the weather, transported south
from palmy climes to wash about

a dengue air

with albedo

The chaos can be calculated precisely, with
this equation:
e=es—Ap (T- Tw)
[where e=environment]



A Discourse (with Meditations)
(I like that. Sing it again)
(though some did with credulous
dread run shrieking)
said my caregiver when I first
barked. Geckos are louder than you
might think
and angels too
Before the Throne there are appointed
choristers; we mostly praise with
instruments (which are a sublimation
of the voice).
This my new shape and form is a sublimation
too a metaphor of interest ambition
good for me
whose laughter had no ground
joy no sky
My name --- is significant of change and
choice and privilege
which is at odds with my
Herpetological rank. My tribe is the
most primitive of lizards.
But examine
if you please
my feet my skin my spectacles
and see
that primitive can mean
delicacy so fine
that you in humankind
must hesitate

to force the word out of all
recognition and wonder that
evolution might be a directed and
intended thing.


I eat honey as of Paradise fed by my friend
I bathe as once I bathed in radiance
from the Throne
and it was in a sun-duced

on a small totara

that I was caught

on a cold day

and now grace this flat
with camouflage

my brilliance
of emerald and silver-gem

and am content

Indeed if it were not that I am not supersti-
tious I would go so far as to suggest
that my captivity in a glass case is an
appointment by Fate
By Fate all I wish is given

To be embodied!
And located!

To observe
to be under the weather!

Is marvellous, that all should come about like
I am so thankful.



I can see all
I am escaped
but you can never be sure never
absolutely sure of the Absolute. Paradise is
not lightly left. It has a scented talcum charm
exhaled to ease Infinity. There is no weather
there, no breeze of Elysium to rise to a

and shake the olive trees
with a

no day that could be thus described —

Down here weather rules.

It might even be possible for earthly life to be
defined meteorologically in signal
terms. Language divides. Praise, for
example, is a rhetorical form and
cannot be founded on fact. The
classical periphrase is not true:
‘Worthy art thou, our Lord, to receive glory and
honour and power, for thou didst create all
things, and by thy will they existed and were


We angels sing this stylishly but not as factual
statement of Omnipotence.
Personally I’ve always enjoyed the
canticle and there are many fine
settings, but most of us now feel
that ascriptions like this no longer
say what should be said
They’re Grand Guignol

and are essentially

hyperbolic honorifics
We angels have the sense that times have
changed (if such an intuitive
assumption can be applied to an
eternal condition)
And we can see
in meteorology
the base for a potentially useful
non-gendered liturgical language

For example
instead of writing and the Lord of the
spirits of the prophets has sent his angel to show
his servants what must soon take place
could be put:

s1=100EI ef I max ( do, df ) I

This is a philosophic script;
its setting down on paper
excites and enlarges the mind
without reference to
an everlasting patriarchy
For those who like visuals it can be put this


The Situation
Be established in peace and tranquillity, be
admitted to that flowing light of
the glory of the angelic heights
Adhere to the highest light and
see it face to face without help
from the heavenly hierarchies

Seek shade from the sun, temper its heat, and
the brilliance of its light.

The World Today

/ H
H /


Yesterday’s Readings
Truly this is a bad earth, a land of miseries,
But behold the outskirts of the blessed land.
Peace and rest are here.


Weather Extremes
Namely, the tranquil
Stability of the mind

The World Yesterday
What more health-
giving thing can be
sought than the
sweetness of this

Compared with this
sweetness is bitter

This gift is from
above and not of our

By the sight of this
light, which is wond-
erful in itself.

The soul is marvell-
ously enflamed

c.Richard of St.Victor & Hugh

Forecast Maps



Noon Today




City Forecasts
the sign is shown from above -
be ready - enter into the house.
Open the windows
sweep the yard
clean the hearth
wear holiday clothes


Satellite Picture



Scented herbs
happy songs
Blue skies of
divine hope






There area great many of these glyphyc
symbols that could be appropriated
and adapted —
to a script —

to an overview —

But I write as an angel of the firmament
to whom such meteorological catches
as hectapascal noctilucence vorticity
homosphere isotropicity advection
cryosphere frontolysis graupel
are as
natural as milk and honey
and the equation
^r, 2>r 2 2>^r3 2
is nought but a natural bias
and to whom
Q* + Qh + QE+ Qg =/ O
is the status quo

These are concepts that delight spiritual
but when I speak as a reptile
it is in specifics — — —



(Psalms in Their Praises)

two & three & more of them
species types & genera
on bloody earth
mists to cleanse
and grow rebirth




word cloud a
balloon of speech

of words

into their mystery

if flesh
a head
a breast
a cheek
with hair at the nape of the neck
for rain

and if a thought
to the cerebrum
a pillow
to the rest
a billow

“When a cloud builds o’er the dale,
There will be both rain and hail.”




a line of text
a lay of the land
a long hard look at us

an edge
of gneiss
birthed in chaos
on a cold horizon

a black-bound book
of all the clouds in the world

if a rug —
a blanket of dark

“Cloud that spreads out flat and thick
Brings rain to last for near a week.”




high herald
for those to follow

on the place
on the line

point the text
of all to come

window of weather
menu set

and publisher
of change

by angel wing
and trumpet call

a new direction
of front and low
to take

and wave
to make

“White wisps from out the west
Sweep ahead of all the rest.”




of cloud

slight leftover

and gather

of fluff
in the corner
of the hill

as on the floor
where no draught is

a fog
beyond the finger-tip
upon the sea

bank and drift
of adiabatic grey

unused by
the manager that
moves its players on

makes cols
and grounds and
contours of air

“When the cloud is rolled and grey,
Misery will last all day.”




covert cloud
and cover

by stealth

a veil
so thin
it dims

the sun
before it stops
the light

as if by
gladwrap first and
then by foil

first white
like any other


easy in the skies
it quietly occupies

like someone
setting out the sky
before the guests

“Cloud that takes its place unseen
Soon thickens into lasting rain.”




at any time

a summer and
a seaside sky
it seems

at play
at any time
for sun

and safe

harmless as
a picnic day

for song and laughter

as birds on the beach
at sunrise

not noticing
the falcon
and the hawk


out of
sight so

“Pearly skies
Bring surprise.”




in line or queue
and single file


usher for the governor

black in its larger

it goes before
the Great One

to come
at the time
when the sky is right

when the Assembly’s set

“Beware when sentinels are sent
Before the day is fully spent.”




in the night

first sound

rollers on a reef

of something down the road
with fire

of the troposphere
on lightning legs

to smash
with bolt and
gorgon coil

as if there were no town
nor warm things in it

just the jungle
on the first day

and it the flame
of life
on prowl

of the word

“When the blackness drops a veil,
Thunder there will be, and hail.”


Vision of Paradise32
(of clouds)

saw the Old One
upstairs window
pewter dish
but that’s imagination
the throne
of the Ground-of-being
the Inexhaustible
rests on the anvil
of a multi-cell CB
for lightning play
and radiant phenomena —
and common bows
arcs and spectres
double suns
Aroundthe throne these halos shine
spectrumed on ice-grain clouds that
float to reflect the Power
with castellatus pilasters, cirrus
ceiling whiff, curtains of nimbus
drift, and cumulus.


Pink’s the tint, marshmallow, of a cauliflower
cloud at sun set
and grey
roiling up
and languishing
like smoke
on a misty night
In and out these shifting scenes play
the lesser choirs each to a cloud of
and Emanations
of high quality.



My Caregiver35

It seems that there is no-one
nor any people
so cultivated
but something wild breaks out
a jungle thing
a riot
not to be trusted where trust is
and this is my care-giver whose care
never falters
still though I am
on my twig
He forgets not my life
and small mites
I am his significance
by day
by my side
he’s at work
at his desk
right his world

routine his health
sun rise conviction
what use sun
rise if there
were no life to greet it
an empty gesture that


As it rises over the city and enlightens my
eighth-floor flat
He rises too

Regularity in the turn-over of time
is much to be preferred

it shows a modesty that comforts,
which the Great One should
emulate for

it is better that a made world turn
unhindered than a new one be
invented for the job
Yet this same beast so finely made and
on two fine legs

and topped by an enviable brain

will once a month run rough and
rugged as an untamed thing without
a thought but of some flesh
between his legs



The View37

I’m impressed at my ability to live in this glass
which my care-giver has placed
beside his desk
Storms which are often at this altitude keep
the windows clean but I see nothing
of the city I’m too high just the sky
from west to east and north
He puts straw
on my floor and
small stones
and a branch
on which I
pose day and
night unblinking
There are no draughts and I’m secure

There are clouds so I’m engaged and he is
hardly out of sight at his business
but my state is curious and complex in my
mind from
glass between
me and my man
this wall of
crystal clear
between me
and all I see
and I
not free
Is this chance or is it the Disposer’s art?


as when I was angelic there was
void between spirit and flesh

so now there is wall between flesh
and flesh.

I can see hear evaluate but cannot
touch the object of research

Is this the price Body always pays?

It’s what I see in the eye of the
girl —

A touch of rain
A grain of ice
A crystalline astigmatism

— not so she does not see (my
but so she does not see

which may be a normal condition of
a touch
a type
or chip
inserted by the Dispenser-of-all
into the human psyche
to ensure
(more or less)
that a life is lived
this side of the Empyrean.


My Life in a Terrarium
which is secure draught-free and
temperate as life should be
humidity-controlled and without
those convulsions of life-in-the-wild
like cold
But it does affect one’s vision or at least my
more oblique view of environment.
The best is at right-angles to the
plane of the material — to look
straight out through facing with two
For the glass is thick and if I look at a sharper
angle my sight is caught in the
matter of the glass and wanders
there wall-eyed in
a fault a slippage slump of one side
to the other

a cleavage through my captor’s face

a one-half elephantiasis

I can send around the room and out
the window to the weather if I want
to split

a cloud enlarge one out of
countenance make gravid


portly to the dropping into gravity
to the ground


the room

any part of it all around the place
picture pot-plant handle switch and
door down to a dislocated distance
and makes
Coming and going in my small safe world like
veering near the surface of a pool
and with a watery shade
Which is bad for TV and the PC screen
blurring detail and washing out
But mostly does it cause me to be uncertain
that I see
infusing with unconfidence my
bespectacled unblinking vertically-
pupilled eye

my yellow eye that should gaze

as given by the Maker and Creator
or at least Prime Mover

who has never been quite sure of its

that it would wear as well as the

especially in those parts most
subject to wear


The Ritual41

I watch uneasily as my man and his woman
make fellatio
transfixed as I am by lust and
The energy the ecstasy thrill me to the point
of involuntary motion. The
gathering of orgasm from all the
body sources like lava to ejection
leaves me at second hand played
‘Mettereli nel culo non e abbastanza’
and puzzled at the way the woman
watches while she works the man
That the head should take the loin’s share is
That the eye should watch the penis troubles
my libido
‘Quando gli succhiano il rinormato’
(confused as it is with its
unaccustomed hemipenes)
I know there’s something lovely here and
something (else)
as in all we do


Perhaps I need to make a turn of will and
reconstruct my thought to see
the sacred in disgust
like St.Catherine of Siena
who in the leprosarium
would stoop to suck the pus
from abscesses and gangrened limbs
and fall into an ecstasy
of a mystic sort pure
quite different
that leads to levitation
like Teresa of Avila
John of the Cross
« È vero »

This is why I’ve let myself be caught confined
and catechised
risk exile from the paradise
to study
the flesh
to find
for myself
if meat is less
as hymn and myth declare
if soul is sacred
and the flesh refused
« Grazie, Professore »
[There is, in ecstasy,
a reverence for wounds]


A Peroration43

I take comfort from my memories of the
meaning of sex in fungal biology
Assume the diversity of fungi, and the
difficulties in the way of
observation and experimentation,
Maleness and


need not apply. Fungi have several
gender strains


the cells that fuse are structurally
indistinguishable. Both are motile
and fuse outside the structure that
produces them.

In the genus Achyla the same colony
can function as male as female as

In the species A. ambisexualis and A.
bisexualis some strains can be male
or female or be constant at will.

This is unique to fungi

It is called Parasexuality

[The Eternal Man is bisexual,
say Blake and Boehme.]


O Joy Of Mystic44


O my Soul —
Be made
To a dust-free plane
The Light
Shine on you that shone on Eden
when my colleague called to teach
and lead you on this way
Be Still
As the turning stars when their suns
first rise and sing to the Power that
makes them
Be Free
O my Soul
Of impedimenta
In your mind this world given of
Eden’s green and growing
And Weather
Ever new and never still
Forward in power and changeful
Know Hope
in Time
true Force Unending over pain and
and float me
creature that I am
to Re-creation
O Soul
I pray thee
Pleasure me


To My Atrophied45

(Before I Take to The Wall)

on a thermal
to hover on updraft
is joy to any winged thing as I recall
most fondly of relaxant times and
privilege of duty
When I lit spark-like on one dimension and
another to business that worlds
might depend upon in confidence
unexcelled cherubic and seraphic
In flight that is not flesh nor spirit is pleasing
to the self alone
I now have body pleasure —
four soles upon a surface
wood is best
stone is good
glass is no trouble and I make runs
upon the wall now when my
caregiver’s asleep
Curtain is no check but I take care
lest my toes are caught in the cloth
Velvet is an irritant
When first made low I was
wary of dust
on nose and eyes
but I am so wonderfully made
though squalid
I have no allergies
and can move in secret places
fearing only predators
as every living thing must do
as heaven does of hell


Now pursuing truth
I make new moves
and am more business-like
The wideness wings once gave
has served good ends
gives vision broad
of height and depth
above / below
Now I move inside

For I see that the human has invented for
itself new rites that only feet can
I must learn more
I’ll take to interstices
I’ll live in the wall that divides
I’ll watch with my bespectacled unblinking eye
I’ll see all sides


13 Hierarchic47
(and why I left)

we are a courtly people
our culture cloys
holding us in loyalty
to ancient mores
Ask any one — ask Peor Uriel Azzazel Chemos
Gabriel Lucifer Raphael Arioth Abdiel Michael
Zaphiel Ariel Ramiel
They find it hard at times
speech is dying
words lose sense
songs their harmony
Our Ancient Of Days is loveable as ever as
admired and respected (in a general sense)
our traditions are unaltered
but one grows tired
The elect — the Cherubs Seraphs Potentates
Thrones Virtues Winged Spirits
Winged Chariots etc. know there’s
fame in heaven and seek not human
praise of course but
sometimes one questions
We’ve made All, set it in train, and know what
the end will be
Now it’s time to look around while
it lasts
I’m the only one to go, but expect more to do
the same to scatter in unlikely forms
and curious


Our presence in the biosphere and atmosphere can be gauged by this means:

DVI=.9.97R xExt,

or = 52.5T x E x t,

or = 4. 4q x E x t

And in the effects.


tap the barometer
pace the anemometer
take your station

test the wind and see
on the far-off land a cloud
no bigger than a hand

and say

It looks like rain

all you people

To your cars
your umbrellas
and your shower-proof coats

it’s written there
like on paper



My manner of taking the fly is deliberate:

When I clearly see it
and make sure it is living
I steal forwards in a most stealthy
As I near the fly,
within an inch or two,
I arch my neck
my eyes swell
and bulge
and the expression on my countenance
grows fierce.
Next I lift a foot
and move it
slowly and cautiously
in the air,
first a toe
or a finger
at a time.

Then I stretch my head towards my prey
as slowly as the hour-hand of a clock
until I’m close enough
when, as quick as light,
the dart is made,
the fly is caught.

I shake it shortly
and then gulp the whole thing down
in three or four gasps,
legs wings and bristles.

I never miss.


L. H. Kyle,

8/1 Ruapehu St.
Mt. Eden,

630 9434

© Leicester Kyle, 1998

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