Poem [Rage and Meditation]

I was really angry one night,

Attempted meditation to make things right

Perhaps that wasn’t the wisest thing to do

Should have taken a cold bath and continued to stew

Could hear screams, people waking from nightmares

Once, twice, thrice… Did my rage affect their sensitive ears?

Found out next day, nearby gas station caught fire

Coincidences probably, but I’ll try not to mediate when I’m angry.

[Poem] Corollary of One Coin

[Poem] One Coin, Two Sides

If,

Axiomatic Truth:

God is Absolute Good,

Then we can establish:

Grace is freely given

To all, irrespective

Of belief.

***

For if:

it is dependent

On faith and belief,

Mental faculty,

Luck of the draw

***

Then:

It is exclusive

To the chosen.

Pre-determined!

***

Implying that

He must also be

God of Darkness

***

***

Believer or non believer,

Their differences

Never really mattered

From the start

***

Enlightenment

Is an open path

 

—

Image: LIGHT: The glow of the Aurora australis lights up the night sky at Stowport on Monday. Picture: Cordell Richardson

[Poem] One Coin, Two Sides

You take or you don’t

Health or decay

You choose

Apollo

Nergal

Two sides

One coin

Light withheld

Is darkness

Healing withheld

Is disease

Life withheld

Is Death

Simple truth

God of Joy

God of Sorrow

One and the same

Blessing or Curse

That’s up to you

Choice freely given to all

There’s no middle path

Many have chosen the curse

So let the winds roar

While the few who are blessed

Find shelter in the storm

Cherub Lucifer fell because he believed

Such choices shouldn’t be left to halfwits

Halfwits you may be, but these simple truths

Don’t depend on one’s mental faculty to comprehend

[Poem] To Dionysus (Dumu, Child of the Abyss)

Hail Dionysus, is it for you I dance?

Hail Roarer, with ivy tresses, ecstasy’s lance

As I slice the wind, great Rhea grins

Does Euboea still sing you hymns?

I feel wild nature grip me tight, bride newly-wed

She caresses me from my toes to the top of my head

Let Apollo play your notes of death and rebirth

While I sing the tune and dance

Hail Lord of Health, great Bull of the Green

Your glance induces a primordial trance

Wild and fierce nature spirits come, sweat sheened

Bringing pleasures… That no drug could mimic

The dance imbues me with the gravitational pull of a star

But too quickly it is gone

The dance ends in pain

For Spring is dead

…

…

…

Until it begins again

Image: I can’t find the original source. I got this from a site about Bulgarian wine.

Also, I think I’m going to start editing the shepherd and goddess short story I wrote a while back. It’s a mess… This is the prototype Dionysus (Adonis combo) I wrote about, Dumuzi (Osiris) the Sumerian god of vegetation and rain, brother of Geshtiana, goddess of the vine. The Greek, I think is a mishmash, of an earlier Egyptian and/or Sumerian deity, which is probably also a retelling of an even more ancient story.

The Fruit Tree

To understand the subject, you need not destroy

No need to tear off a branch to learn the inner workings

Using that red rusted chainsaw powered by pain and lies

 

Just wait till it buds, and smell its blooms

Wait a little more, and taste its fruit

Sweet to taste, and bitter too

The story of the Tree

 

Why poison it, and tear it apart in your effort to understand?

Why demand unripened fruit here and now, before the season?

Continue in this pursuit and you’ll taste only your own poison

It is not yet time for apple pies baked with your leaven.

 

 

The Jester’s Court

“Somewhere on Beta Colony there is an institution. In one room of the institution, there is a man who spends his days and nights screaming at things that only he can see. Things we planted in his mind. They have to keep him in a straitjacket twenty-four hours a day or he’ll claw his own eyes out just to make it stop.”

— Lyta Alexander, Babylon 5
They call it the mind rape, in pop culture
Many have suffered from this trauma
This insanity brings insight, but how to share it?
This insanity makes you lose identity:
Creed, nation and economic fixation.
It can break a person, through mere retelling
Lulling their souls into extreme nihilism
Unless dumbed down, turned into a cosmic joke.
Parables don’t do the trick anymore, so I live through it all
And tell the story. Some play out in dreams, some in this world,
But perhaps there is no difference between the two.
The ragdoll brother and big saintly sister
Based on true characters, but false at the same time
I met ragdoll brother here, though not big sister
He died a few months ago. I fused his story with others in that one poem.
The big sister I made up, though her story is real for many
Both fake and real, the true wonder of fiction!
Ouranos and Tartarus: I being wooed by him in the depths
Queen of Snakes, ugly and beautiful, her actions were not quite consensual
The Torturer, burning out the eyes of his patients on hospital beds
Stories that will convey the message without the full horror
True stories, but false at the same time
Because they are a fusion of different realities
Doing it like this won’t burden you with that big yoke
So I’ll put on the jester’s hat, while I attempt to erase your number and suit
And try to turn us all into trumps, the best that I can
And transform the seven souled protagonist into a hero
If I fail, then I am meant to fail. If I succeed, that’d be nice.

I try to alienate you, to find a few to whom I can truly unburden

But I still don’t have the heart to cook this full meal, course and serving

So I’ll dilute the taste with the wrong wine

Garnish the dishes with heavy herbs and spices

And juggle souffles to distract your mind

Because if I’m writing for just me, and writing it all

I fear my wicked giants may become too tall

For both me and you!

Instead of healing, I may invoke a cancer!

 

Anonymous Tim and I have become one

Too late now to take our separate runs

 

I will become the Fool then

And perhaps while we laugh, we will learn

Or perhaps not, because

I don’t think the answers truly matter