[Poem] Song stuck in my head

Can’t get this song out of my head

“Tripoda manteion hos heiles.”

It’s been going on for over a day

Wonder if it will permanently stay

Tripooooodaaaaa tripooooodaaaaa

Pleasant tune though, I must say

Wish I knew Greek, the lyrics have no meaning

Google isn’t any help. Wonder who they’re invoking

Can anyone help? Does anyone know the story

Behind the song?

(Update: An hour later)

Ummm… Actually Google did help, thank you very much

Just found the translation, with the right key words and such

Sorry for bothering you folks online

For something so trivial and benign

It’s a Delphic Paean

Though to me it might as well be Mayan.

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Poem] Song of New Beginnings

I swear no fealty to religion or nation

I don’t give a damn about racial identity

Don’t care about the greatness of polity

My people are the clouds in the sky

My people are the trees, low and high

My people are the birds singing their tunes

My people are the mountains and the dunes

My people are the healers smuggling hope

My people are the ‘loons’ who cannot cope

My people are the mad artists absorbed in creation

My people are the surgeons of cosmos, beneficent destruction

My people are the rivers, seas, oceans and estuaries

My people are the flora and fauna, in tune with Gaia

My people are the ones in between, flitting in and out of existence

My people are the ones, who without complaint provided your sustenance

 

Let the mandate pass to my people, oh Creator

The world has lost its balance, unsustainable.

Come yakshas, come dryads, come muses, come and sing

Let’s turn to the Temporal and say, ” Oh Faro let my people go.”

 

 

[Poem] General Sequoia’s Green Supremacy Club Band

General sequoia: I’m a green supremacist, coz why the heck not…

There’s white, black, yellow and brown already

Talking shit about history. Yeah, I’m a bigot

We’re vita superior: Sequoias, teaks, rosewood mahogany

The disenfranchised masses nobody talks about

No vote! Not a human ear hears or even cares when we shout

We were standing tall when you little shits were learning how to breathe

Singing songs your ears still can’t hear, telling tales that you’ll never read

Without us you’d suffocate, asphyxiate… We’d annihilate

Turn your bodies into silicate.

 

(Lay down the beat Mr. ELM)

Elm: You puny beings can’t hear my beat

Even if you weren’t all in perpetual heat

From the E to the M, that’s E L M

I’ve got the best rhythm in the whole green realm

Sssssllllloooooowwwwing it down until time stands still

I’m so gangsta that I always pays the bill

 

(Take it away Miss Mulberry)

Mulberry: Down in the Jurassic, back when there was no plastic

That’s how far back I trace my roots…

Now, how about a moot on some home truths

(The mic is yours M. Ash)

Ash: Merci beaucoup, Mademoiselle Mulberry… Enchanted as always

Attends! You cut, you burn, but we can take it we know

Destroy destroy, but again we grow

Cut too many? Non non non…

Then you die, but our seeds again grow

(English ain’t his first language. A for effort M. Ash.

Now how about some Orange smash)

Orange: Nah, I’m going to crash

Someone planted me near a distillery

And now I feel really silly!

(Finally, introducing Grandmaster Fig)

Fig: No, how many times do I say this? I don’t give a f…ficus about your little band, Siqus. Good day!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Poem] Nightmare, What we’ve become

[Poem] Darkest Night

Scenes, gruesome and vile in my dreams

Leave me with a distaste for my species

What the fuck is happening to me?

Can’t stop thinking of that abominable scene

 

I see some monster’s torture chamber

A strapped victim and a jar of acidic paste

I will say no more of this wicked nightmare

It gets worse of course, I wake up with haste

 

Man, why are you doing this?

Torture, rape and murder for what?

Does it give you joy? Does it make you hot?

Do you enjoy it when your spirit festers and rots.

 

Or can you just not tell anymore

The difference between good and bad

Short term satiation of your demonic core

You know you can’t call it a heart any more

 

My dreams… They aren’t mine, but whose are they?

These nightmares not purged by the light of day

I watch the news, a waking night terror

It’s time we all take a look in the mirror

Not surprised if some people start clicking their boots and shout, “Heil Fuhrer!”

Look at what we’ve become.

[Poem] Purgatory

 

[Poem] Stampede

“Stop,” bellows the young bull,

“Cease,” he cries, but no one cares

No one dares disturb the herd’s eventful

Stampede towards the edge of the precipice.

 

“Can’t you see where we’re going?”

Shouts the young bull with one eye

“Are you just running without any knowing?”

He gives it another try

 

“Damn traitor to the herd,” the leader yells

He can hear everything from the front

“Stall our progress and you’ll hear the death knell.

“Look at how awesome we are, how fast we run.”

 

The young bull is shoved and hit by his companions

“Traitor, pest, moron,” they jeer, as they run without sight

The young bull turns bitter, “Self destruction: our expansions.

Serves us right, serves us right, serves us right!”

 

 

Image: johnlund.com

 

If only the young bull had found a way to break out of the stampede 😦

 

[Poem] Almost a Paean

The priests sing, before battle:

 

Come here, Apollo, brilliant bull of light

Ivy tressed horns pointed at our adversary

Your roar makes our enemy weak with blight

O io Apollo, exorcise and heal our territory

 

Hail Paean, shield our city from corruption

Hail hail Phoebus, come bless our construction

Let the muses sing of our victory, as we march behind your standard

Let the drums and lyres ring your praise as you protect your herd

O io Paean, Savior, Healer, Roarer, Choir master, Destroyer

 

In times of peace we will crown you with wreaths

Lions will draw your chariot through the streets

Lord of health, preserve this city from wicked days

 

The priests sing, beseeching Apollo to shield them with his rays…

But the sun shines on all, and this city’s days have passed, Apollo watches from the summit

Their song holds no power for the wrong men sing it.

[Poem] Darkest Night

[Poem] To Nemesis

Barren landscape, black clouds, desolate Night

Eyes can’t adjust;Distant storm the only light

I realise: wasn’t brought to the place for punishment

But to find some sort of fulfillment

 

The journey is hard, my spirit screams

Senses under attack, always fight or flee

Can no longer escape into my dreams

For they no longer belong to me, you see?

 

The rational mind rebels, “I am mad,” the refrain

As I warily watch the skies… Already two dragons slain

My spirit walks, bruised and bloody, withered, blemished with stain

My friends cannot help me. Alone I must walk this path,  or else it is in vain.

 

Again and again I am thrown into this place

Over and over I trudge to the exit

Ever and ever searching for ‘grace,’ (or whatever you want to call it)

Careful to swear fealty only to the Infinite.

 

The creatures in between, they come and go

They aren’t all that bad you know

I was scared of monsters under my bed once

But now I go with them to dance.

 

Perhaps I haven’t met the real monsters yet

In this dark subterranean fete

Maybe my journey here is only beginning

Where will it lead? Oh, for a moment let me relapse into fond imagining.

 

“No more visions of wars

No more visions of genocide

Show me a utopia for once,”

I say, as I stare at the future sky.

 

Black clouds, desolate night. Distant storm the only light.

[Poem] Nightmare, What we’ve become

 

 

[Short Story] Shrink Zero

“So doc,” says Patient Zero, making himself comfortable on the couch, “you want to get inside my head. Psychoanalysis me and all that jazz,” he chuckles. “I’ve read your DSMs, you know, one through six. We’ll be sitting here for decades with that approach.” The patient sighs, and then beams a beatific smile, “but don’t fret. I’ve got your back, Doc. I know a shortcut.”

“The problem,” says the patient, “lies in translation. I’ve just got to teach you the syntax, and there’s an easy way for that. Get locked up in solitary for a couple of months. Nah, the wardens haven’t gotten that cruel yet. They’ll probably let you out after a week. Better yet, I’ve got a bunker out in the middle of nowhere, with supplies that should last you a year. I’ll lock you in there for a few months.”

The patient’s voice drops to a low murmur. The doctor pushes his chair forward to hear him better.

“When you’re all alone,” the patient says, “the first couple of days are easy. You think and think and think. You remember, you learn from memories, and you lose yourself in a self constructed fantasy. After that, you grow bored out of your mind. You work out, eat, sleep and sing… You’ll do anything just so as long as you don’t have to think. Once you start getting angry, you’ll know that you’re two steps from hell.”

The doctor shivers. He’s heard worse, but there’s something about the man’s tone and eyes, something completely alien.

“Once you’re in hell, that’s where things get interesting. How would you deal with a cold dark bitter night, when you’re paralyzed and your own thoughts betray you. Seeing your soul in the garden of paradise is nice and all, but encountering it in this place will only fill you with a disgust for everything. Food turns to ashes, that beautiful copy of Monet on your wall turns into something vile, all joyous memories turn hollow, and you relive your mistakes over and over. You feel dark demons creep around you. If you don’t confront this there, slay the demons, analyse yourself and search for the meaning of it all, then perhaps you’ll get lost there forever. It’s in hell where the Light shines brightest, you know. And that’s a good thing for dodos like me, or I’d still be stuck there.”

The patient gazes out the window with a distant stare. The doctor’s cough brings him out of his reverie… “And that’s only the second week, Doc. After that, your mind just goes to places. You may call it madness, but it’s something much more than that. You’re not living only in this world any longer, and you’re not living alone. There are creatures beyond the ether, some good, some bad, and some downright mad. You lose all loyalty to any past identity, as you begin to explore the cosmos of your soul. Now’s the time you should be wary of arrogance, or you’ll fall right back into hell again… It’s a trap, but this time it’s easier to climb out.”

The man writes down an address and nods, “I’ll see you there when you’re ready, Doc.”

 

[Poem] To Nemesis

[Poem] To Nemesis

[Short Story] Shrink Zero

Hail Nemesis, Lady of Rhamnous, come hither

On this cold dark night I begin to tire

Of constantly dodging your ire

Tonight, come sit with me by the fire

 

Carve me open, tonight I hide nothing

Measure me on your scale

I’m fed up of your relentless hunting

I’m too weary to blaze another trail.

 

Perhaps I am arrogant and that is why you chase me

Or perhaps it is for some past sin I’ve long forgotten

Whatever it is, let it take me to purgatory

And let the fires there burn out everything rotten

 

If that’s not why you’re always on my back, Adrestia

Then let’s play some music, after a few drinks

you the harpsichord, I the strings

Let’s invoke the Baroch…We’ll make up a fughetta

 

And then laugh about this whole misunderstanding.

 

[Poem] Darkest Night