[Poem] Druids vs Aliens

Dyson sphere, you make me laugh

Type two primitives, with your solar trough

Sailing through systems like a weak draught

***

The druid watches the aliens make planet fall

The lurid spectacle of the cruisers of the Borgsmall

Closing his eyes he brings stars into existence

Singing a tune he showers aliens with cosmic essence

‘Screw the laws of thermodynamics’, an extra verse to his mystical song

With a coda called, ‘Yo Schrodinger, sarong or no sarong?’

Entropy and order do his bidding

Type 10 druidom reigns supreme

***

Image: https://goo.gl/images/sDnSyi

[AA2] Day 45: Brahmarishi in the Making

Previously

Soul quotient: 3/7

Mohan attracted trouble like honey attracted flies. It wasn’t his fault, just the way of the Universe. Mohan had long since accepted that fact, ever since he’d been expelled from school for holding a teacher to the same standards that the teacher held his students.

He’d long since accepted that there was no such thing as justice in society. Courts and law and order were illusions. Real justice could only be obtained out in the wild, deep in the core of the Western Ghats or up in the snowy Himalayas. He hadn’t been to the Rajasthan deserts but he was sure there was justice to be obtained there too, the natural order that cared nothing for pseudo morality. Oh dear, Mohan lulled his mind into lethargy with a lullaby he’d learnt from an elephant in the zoo. It didn’t do any good to let his mind go wandering like that.
“So,” said the yoga teacher, throwing his slipper at Mohan, “you came here because you wanted to learn how to sleep?”
It was a free yoga class that Mohan had entered to kill time. He didn’t have enough money for anything and his parents weren’t going to be at home for another hour. Perhaps it would have been wiser to just sit on a bench and watch the birds.
“I thought this was Bihar School of Yoga, not Beer School,” Mohan said, unintentionally mispronouncing BR. Why did he always make those clumsy mistakes? That damn Universe again!
“You come here and insult me,” the yogacharya shouted shrilly.
“No insult was intended,” Mohan said, guilt ridden. “I just thought it would be nice to sleep and do that yoga thing at the same time. Yoga nidra, you know? That way I wouldn’t be wasting any time.”
“Wasting time?” the yogacharya’s face was beginning to grow red.

“I just meant…”

“Out!”

[AA2] Day 44: HecatAPP: Moonlight Edition

[AA2] Night 43: Trivia meets Thomas

Magick Maker App for all your Wiccan Needs

WHAT’S NEW
WHAT’S NEW in version 4.1 Moonlight Edition
Added Moonlight support
Completely revamped OS that now supports Moon magick
Battery drain issues fixed, you no longer need to charge your phone… ever!
Signal issues fixed. Get unrestricted access to the Hecatapp network no matter where you are on the planet.
Sleek new UI to reduce time lag and magical drain
Now form ultra covens with the new intra-coven messaging app and perform unbelievable feats
Added new stock market minigame to Sacred Geometry. Just link your demat account to the app and become a millionaire… 100% return or more guaranteed daily
Fixed crashing issues and parsing errors from Ash Tree update 3.6
New Creation Magic added. Can be unlocked once Coven level reaches Elite.
Sacrifice counter added to Empath Nightmare Bringer mode. Now get credited for even the littlest scare.

[AA2] Day 45: Brahmarishi in the Making

[Epic Poem] Part 10: The Bet

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

Tavern Hill, an hour’s walk laden with abuse

From a verbose trans-dimensional mocking Bird

The heroes enter. Their presence does now induce

Instant silence and appraisal from the innards

“Thor, you bastard,” a giant bearded Scott yells out,

“You still haven’t paid your tab, you bloody baw bag

Three centuries interest, a king’s ransom… You lout!”

Thor smiles wide, arms stretched out, “McDuffie lqngubak,

Let’s settle our dues with a drinking contest

All forgiven if I win, plus McDonald’s keys.

My tab closed and I will sponsor the village fest

If you win, McDuffie old friend, renowned qlfuss.”

McDuffie agrees. It’s been a while since he had

A worthy opponent.
The Mockingbird croons, “Mad!!!”

Mary’s little lamb, fleece as white as snow, agrees.

baw bag: scrotum

lqngubak: fishbelly

qlfuss: drunkard

[Epic Poem] Part 11: Highlander Spirit

[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

[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

[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

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 10 : Dumuzi feasts as Inanna Descends

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 9: Invulnerable

“My brother,” Geshtianna said, running to his chamber, “I felt the touch of the cold winter wind this morning. Why can’t I hear your song?” She opened the door and found him dressed in ashes, flogging himself on the back. “What is the matter? Who do you mourn?”

“Inanna,” Dumu said, taking a break from his flagellation, “has gone to the Underworld to free me from Death’s curse. I fear Inanna may never return. What else can I do?”

“You are the king,” she chastised him. “Eat, drink, and be merry… or at least act like you’re merry. Play your song, or else Inanna will be lost forever. Is she not the goddess of Life? If your people feel the touch of that dreadful winter again they will die, and all will be lost. Show yourself in public so that they may reassure themselves. It is your responsibility as a king. You are no longer a young man, intoxicated by love and bereft of responsibility.”
Geshtianna’s words rang true, and so Dumu decreed a week of feasting in Inanna’s honour. The music was loud, and the dancing girls never ceased. Dumu laughed and smiled, though only Geshtianna knew that his smiles were weak, and his laughter forced.

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 11: Inana’s descent to the nether world: translation

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 8 : The Lowly Mistletoe

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 7: The Queen of the Underworld Attends a Wedding

The world was in peace during the Eternal Spring. The entire world thrived and sang with life during the honeymoon of millennia.

Alulim (Ptah) ruled the lands with great wisdom and Dumu learnt from him. Kingship passed to Alalgar(Re) when the time was right and Dumu learnt from him. Then kingship was passed from the city of Eridu to Bad-tibira. Dumu refused his father a second time and Enmenluana(Shu) became king. Dumu learnt greatly from him. Then Dumu refused his father a third time and kingship passed to Enmengalana (Geb). Dumu learnt greatly from him. When Enmengalana had sensed it was time to vacate the throne, Enki approached his son determined not to take ‘no’

for an answer, and Dumu became king. He ruled the land with wisdom, with four of the seven sages (Apkallu) as his counsellors. His people loved him, and prospered under his rule… but something wasn’t right.
“Dear one,” Inanna said, with concern as they got out of bed, “ever since you sat on the throne your dreams have been troubled. What is wrong? You grow paler by the day, and your song is beginning to lose its power. I felt the cold bitter south wind on my cheeks this morning.”
“Ever since I sat on this throne,” Dumu said, “I have dreamt of my death.”

Inana was greatly troubled and talked to Ninsun, her mother-in-law.
“It is Ereshkigal,” Ninsun cried. She had never forgotten what the Lady of the Underworld had said on her son’s wedding night. “She seeks to kill him. We must talk to Enki and do something about this, or we will lose our sweet Dumu and the Eternal Spring.”
The two goddesses took audience with Enki, who was greatly troubled by their words. He summoned a council of the Anunaki, and obtained a mandate to make Dumu truly immortal. “Go to all the manifestations of creation,” he said to Ninsun and Inanna, “and obtain from them a promise never to harm Dumu.”
Ninsun and Inanna travelled across the Universe.
They obtained the promise from the stars.

They obtained the promise from the dust.

They obtained the promise from iron.

They obtained the promise from fire.

They obtained the promise from all things manifest…

Except for the mistletoe, who they forgot to ask.

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 9: Invulnerable

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 7: The Queen of the Underworld Attends a Wedding

[Short Story] the Shepherd and the Goddess Part Six (V2) The Courting of Inanna and Dimuzi

[A/n: If you are looking for a happy ending then fair warning: this doesn’t end well. I had half a mind to end the story here on a note of jubilation, but thanks to the comment by Ragazza I decided to finish the entire tale… and now that I’m done planning it all out I’m glad I’m writing the whole thing. This story is viewed better as a whole, but unfortunately only fragments exist of the original tale in Sumerian, which is why I’m borrowing from Greek, Egyptian and Norse. What follows after this is tragedy, horror, vengeance, the rebirth of winter, and a descent into madness]

Geshtianna checked her reflection one last time before turning to Midu in the city of Lagash.
“Why won’t you accompany me to our brother’s wedding?” she asked him. “Why can’t you celebrate Dumu’s joy just this once?”
“Celebrate Dumu’s joy?” Midu laughed scornfully. “Look at what I have accomplished through merely a glance at the MES father holds so closely. Look at my cities and my canals. Look at how the black headed people progress. Look at the temples they build for us. What has Dumu done, apart from tending to some sheep?”

“Mother says he has slain the long winter with his song,” Geshtianna responded, looking a little disgusted by Midu’s tantrum.

“Bah,” Midu spat, “If NinSun really thinks that then her mind is growing old and feeble. Dumu deserves no celebration. He has earned nothing. He is an average warrior, and has the mind and artistry of a child. Who helped our father slay Abzu? Was it Dumu or me? Who helped leash Mummu and create the wonderful city of Eridu? Even Alulim, our low born brother, deserves far more honour than Dumu. I will hold feasts and games at his funeral… not before.”

“Alulim is far nobler than you will ever be, you poor tortured soul,” Geshtianna sighed, and left to Eridu for the wedding celebrations.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Then, on this one special day that celebrated both the coming of the Eternal Spring, and the wedding of the shepherd and the Lady of the Skies, Fate had allowed Ereshkigal, ruler of the realm of the dead, to journey into the mortal realm for the festivities. She sighed with pleasure as she felt the warmth of the sun, moaned with delight as she tasted warm bread, sweet honey, cool beer and frothy milk. She laughed as she heard songs that weren’t dirges, and cried with joy as she smelt the scents of the forests and mountains. The beautiful goddess of the dead had become so used to the realm of Kur that she had forgotten what the realm of Ki was like. When she beheld the bridegroom she nearly lost her breath.

She approached Enki, “You allowed the dragon of Kur to take me away to his realm where my people eat nothing but dust, where only the galla demons entertain me, and all sounds are wails. Though you slew the dragon, you abandoned me in that realm. You owe me a debt, Enki.”

“Whatever is in my power,” Enki promised her.

“Stop this wedding, and let me have the shepherd. I will build him a palace in the Underworld. Let him slay the winter there, and let me feel Utu’s waking gaze. Let him play his music there and drown out the wails and the dirges. Let him create gardens so that the dust may produce sweet honey and tasty grain. Let him create life from my barren womb.”
“I cannot,” Enki said sadly. “He is already promised to Inanna. They love each other, and would have each other with or without my blessing. I prefer the latter.”

“Inanna,” Ereshkigal laughed sardonically. “That one is misnamed. We all know the truth of her birth,” she said in a loud voice so that everyone could hear. “We all know how Abzu castrated his father and threw the mutilated organ into Nammu’s waters, and the abomination that Nammu then birthed. Nanna and Ningal may call her ‘daughter’ but their words fool no one. I will have Dumu, Enki, one way or another.” Saying this, she sat back on her throne and travelled back to the underworld, her mind whirling with plans and strategies.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The rest of the wedding was filled only with joy. Ereshkigal’s dire threat was forgotten as wine flowed in ever greater quantities, and music grew louder and became imbued with divine virtuosity.
“My son,” Enki said to Dumu, who he had not seen since his birth, “look at this city of Eridu. Is it not beautiful?”

Dumu nodded, “Indeed,”

Eridu was a city of canals, its blue waters springing eternally from the earth and flowing into the distant sea. The moon had bathed the waters in its light that night, and the sun had imbued the city’s garden with his essence making them appear efflorescent.
“It is yours,” Enki said, “along with the rest of the cities of the earth. Become this land’s king. Take Eridu, where I have planted kingship. Take all the peoples of this world into your flock as we go into the Age of the Eternal Spring.”

Dumu shook his head, “I am not ready for such a task. I know only cows and sheep and goats.”

“You are still a wild young bull,” Enki nodded.
“Give Eridu and kingship to Alulim, who is far wiser than I am.”
“Very well,” Enki said, slightly irked by his son’s refusal, “but I hope you will give me a different answer the next time I ask. In the meantime, you will become the vizier of the MES and learn of kingship.”

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 8 : The Lowly Mistletoe