[Poem] Spirit Walker

Hey curandero, hear my soul call

Can you heal me with your wherewithal

Shaman, Bridgewalker, have you ever walked under?

Would you risk a quick little soul sunder?

Bring your totems, you’ll need them all

Boa, Puma, Dolphin and especially Condor

Build up your strength to stare into Jaguar’s eyes

If you think you’ll break, I’ll let you go with a sigh

Hey Ms. Curandera, do you think you can help me?

I’m stuck between worlds that even you can’t see

Will your herbs and brews, your smoke and chants, help you free me

From Abzu’s cold cold grasp… His heartless clasp.

From the white cloaked giant wearing the nine dotted face mask

Into whose arms I ventured most foolishly

Choose quickly, as time grows short

May this song find my one last shot.

Tartarus woos my soul, with tunes most dear

Come quickly, before I veer!

I have already killed Python who stood in your path

Call to Boa and Condor when you see the Jaguar’s heart.

Image: Curandera by Ricardo Ortega

Music: Impromptu2 by me and my Yamaha c40

[Poem] The Fisher king

I disagree most fervently Signora

The Buddha and I don’t always see eye to eye

Knowledge is merely an amphora

And the wine is wisdom

While it is true that wisdom and Truth

Cannot be conveyed by mere words alone

There are other ways of guidance

That turn fishermen into fishers of men.

[Poem] The Finger

Lend me your ears while I expound on this gesture

Lend me your minds as I delve through literature

Lend me your hands as I demonstrate this picture

Of a gesture most ancient, two thousand years and even more

That’s how long we’ve been letting our fingers rise and soar

Lift up your middle digit, from within a tight fist

And mire your face in an expression most serious

Look on at the lone digit, The meditation begins:

In ancient Greece they called it the katapygon

In Rome, by the digitus impudicus it was known

Through it disrespect was, and still is, shown

“Do you know what a dactyl,” Socrates asked

“Yes,” said Strepsiades, his finger lifting up for the task.

Diogenes of Sinope did in the dactyl glory cheekily bask

When he showed it to Demosthenes, like a broken death mask.

Even Saint Isidore of Seville made reference to it,

In his Etymologiae, the renowned middle digit.

So the next time you’re stuck in crazy traffic

Flipping the bird
Too angry for words

Remember you’re reenacting something historic

Leonidas and Xerxes, perhaps once did the same

Caesar and Pompey, those two certainly weren’t tame.
Raise the digit

It’s legit!

[Poem] Temple of the King (or Feeling Antignostic)

One day in the year of the Fox

The priests tolled their Bell

One day in the year of the Fox

A man jumped into the Well.

Then in the darkness a light did shine

Thundering lightening

There in the Abyss a kindled mind

Entered the Temple of the King

Logic and instinct in perfect balance

He’s seeking meaning

Leeching his blood for a mysterious light

Yin and yang unsealing

A farmer’s son jumps out of the Well

Dressed in a king’s purple robe

His simple truths make the powers feel dread

As he trots around the globe

Showing the Temple of the King.

[Poem] The Wizard

The wizard walks on

Funny clothes, tinkling bell

Though ragged and worn

Sunny motes spangle his belt

To the dark tower he goes

To Necromancer’s lair

The people do not know

Nor do they really care.

Spreading his magic for all

He destroys evil in his wake

Townspeople can’t see the magical squall

Wizard doesn’t care if he’s branded a fake

He works his magic and silently moves on

Sacrificing his joy to destroy the Necromonicon.

[Epic Poem] Part 9: We’re Off to See McDuffie, The Wonderful Brewer of Brews!

[Epic Poem] Part 8: The Flipping Bird

“A peculiar state of affairs,” Peter proffers.
“Downright kinky, you nit” the mocking Bird differs.
“We’re heroes, we’ll certainly fix it,” Thor posits,

“We’ll go to Valhalla where Reality meets
And If needed, I’ll kick all demons off their seats
Indeed, don’t fear! Anna and Mary will be saved
So let us go now to McDuffie’s Tavern Hill
And get the keys to the gate of the Yggdrasil.”
Peter and Thor confidently stride forth, with swagger!
James and the lamb follow behind, staring daggers!
The Mocking bird cackles in glee, “Yo Mama…”

[Epic Poem] Part 10: The Bet

[AA2] Night 43: Trivia meets Thomas

Previously [AA 2.1] Day 43: Dreaming with Ayahuasca

Thomas dreamt of himself and Hecate
His body had been getting used to the ayahuasca tea, but never before had it been as vivid as this full moon night. Shadows transformed into interdimensional creatures going about their ineffable, inexplicable duties in the multiverse. Moonlight transformed into fine wine that he could taste with all his senses. The cry of the bats outside his window sent pulses through his head that made him pendulate between universes. His shaman guide transformed into a network of colourful whorls that extended from the ground into the sky… but still no moon god. Where was he? Why wasn’t Thomas able to see him in his dreams any longer?
His room transformed into a stone paved intersection, surrounded by dark countryside. The air grew still, and all noises ceased. A beautiful woman appeared before him, her dark hair falling to beneath her waist, her green eyes blazing light amidst the utter darkness of his surroundings, her pale skin radiating luminescence.
She sang:

Where wanders the warrior of Moonlight?

One wonders why he looks so uptight.

Perhaps he is lost

I meet him now, but at what cost?

“Er… Hello, how do you do,” Thomas said to the woman. “I’m looking for the Moon. Could you help me?”

“Help you for a price

Come roll the dice”

Thomas found a pair of die in his palms and threw them on the grass, without thinking.
“Snake Eyes,” the woman shrieked with joy,

“The Die never lies.

You are mine at the cross roads

Directions I’ll give for two toads

Eat them now while they’re hot

Or else you’ll be regurgitating rot”

Thomas swallowed the two toads she held out to him in one gulp. If he was awake and in his proper senses he’d have never done such a stupid thing… perhaps, thought a part of him. He had trust issues, especially with women, but this crossroad place in the countryside was lulling his senses.

“Soma’s power I share now

I’ll now give it to that Venus sow

If you want to dream of the Moon, my pretty

Then stop drinking the Ayahuasca tea

It changes to Demeter your frequency

And not to the heavens, you see?

You’re dialling the wrong number

While Soma is in slumber.

Thomas thanked her, and then blacked out.

[AA2] Day 44: Hecatapp: Moonlight Edition

[Poem] Inanna

Fair Inanna, driven quite mad

From the death of the Eternal Spring.

Poor Inanna, she is so sad,

That Life has stopped procreating.

What to do?

Rend her in two:

The Whore of Babylon

and

The Wisdom of Greece

The prostitute and the eternal virgin

Ishtar and Athena

Unfettered

I have written the love story of Inanna and Dimuzi here:

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 1:The Story of Tammuz and Ishtar

[Epic Poem] Part 8: The Flipping Bird

[Epic Poem] Part 7: Thor Fisticuffs

Shapeshifter?” The demon squeaks, “No, you damn feckt,
I’m a pretty mocking bird. Mock, mock and screw you!
That demon wraith ate me whole, that halitosed wretch!
And I got stuck in its throat! That freaking stink belch!!!”

“Can you understand its infernal dialect?’
Thor asks. Peter shakes his head, “Where’s Mary? Speak true.”

Bird cackles in wicked glee, “If you hate the rate
And really have to shake, then just castrate your mate!”

“Mad Fury,” Thor sighs, “the worst sort of punishment.
Definite warp in the space time continuum.
Once I finish this here magical annulment
Mary will appear and Fury bird disappear
Law of conservation of mass. So do not fear
Young Peter Peterson.” Thor begins his magic
While the bird hurls unintelligent abuses.
Viscount James, adjusting cravate, looks so tragic
While Thor’s aether magic over the area diffuses.
Anna disappears. Thor scratches his head, “I think I miscalculated.”

“YEAH, NO SHIT,” says the Mocking Bird.

[Epic Poem] Part 9: We’re Off to See McDuffie, The Wonderful Brewer of Brews!

[Epic Poem] Part 7: Thor Fisticuffs

[Epic Poem] Part 6: The Magic of Earl Gray

Peter, fortified with a ham sandwich searches

Armed with a sturdy wooden stick Peter marches

No black knight shall keep Peter from his Lady Love
Lamb and sheep follow, they don’t really give a shove

About his heroic quest, but there’s a demon
Following in their footsteps, so they don’t leave him.

The demon closes in. Peter brandishes his stick,
Demon says, “Hey, chill out. Relax! Don’t be a Dick!”

Peter says with fury, “What have you done with Mary?”
Demon brandishes claws, and screams, “Hate Rate Trait Mate. Savvy?”
This demon is incoherent and scary. Peter must flee.

Just then, a dazzling light and three people appear
A woman, a bearded Nord and a leg clinger

“Fear not, brave Peter Peterson, ” the Nord proclaims
Ha ha! I was born to slay demons,” he acclaims,

“I shall smite him with Mjol…I mean… My bare fists”
He pounces on the demon, epic pugilist

His punch makes the demon creature disintegrate

(While the leg clinger fop does obfuscate)

“Thanks, I guess I did need some help,” mutters Peter
shame faced says, “and how do you know my name, kind Sir?”

Thor shrugs, “(no thanks necessary) Smiting HateRateTrait was just what I needed

A pick-me-up! And I knew your great great great grandfather

He and I shared many quests. He’s one mortal I heeded

You have his same noble nose, warts and all… As well as his rank odour.”

A dark winged mass emerges from the demon’s ashes, a black bird.
It speaks, “yeah, yeah, yeah… All very touching, you pieces of runny guanno,
But you idjits born of idjits could have gone easier on the punches you know?!!!”

Peter brandishes stick, as Thor raises fist. “Shapeshifter!”, they shout together.

[Epic Poem] Part 8: The Flipping Bird