Here For You

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When you shiver and quiver inside and all hope seems lost,
And your very soul is tempest tossed and all looks bleak,
Seek me out and find me; I’m as close as your own breath,
Not far away like some distant star, but right beside you
Through night and day, and I’m here to stay nor to stray;
Like light of dawn shines bright over blue-green horizon,
Like sun rays bathing your face, your body, I enlace you
To myself to love, cherish and care for you in bare life,
If only you call and let down your wall of cold resistance;
I AM here for you…

Dark At Night; Dangerous Without Light

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Oh how the Evil One can appear as an angel of light, indeed, and how so very attractive the promises made! In my mytho-poetic series, this was my second encounter with wickedly alluring Bast. And would I give myself up to her death? This piece is an altogether dark beginning of an unsettling episode in my mythic journey. If you have not before, please enjoy now. (Also, this represents a continuation of my exploration into poetic narrative; not to everyone’s taste, to be sure, but poets do experiment!)

moon1“It’s dark at night and dangerous without light,” she said, while holding candle by bejeweled, golden handle. “Vandals run as wild here as desert beasts… You are alone?” She was an altogether radiant maiden, fragrant with exotic oils and incense, and made no pretense of threat. “You should get up and come; you’re only some way from water and better rest in nest of greenery and flowers, neath protective bowers.”

Yes, of course I’ll follow. Why lie here so hollow in desert sand, waiting to be killed by wandering band? And so I struggled to my feet in complete determination to go where she led to be fed from clear, cool watering hole, though tottering on weak legs; nevertheless, in such state as this, whose soul would not beg to go on? So I approached her; she reproached me not, but smiled and beguiled my heart.

The candle? Now where? No where, but how? Still the flame with which she came … No, more expansive, impressive … even growing more massive. Wonder overtook me and shook me. Moving, flaming ball, practically brewing in her hand … changing colours ranging the artist’s palette. What mystic talent does this one possess? Her smile only widened but seemed all the more kindly, so I blindly tread forward toward this sprite of the night.

With every step the flame began to elongate more and more into some kind of straight slate. She could see my confusion, but remained sedate, content to await my arrival. But for what? To help or end my survival? All began to take more shape and I could not escape noticing that fire now burned underneath what looked like funeral pyre… Funeral pyre! I suddenly looked straight into the wickedly beautiful eyes of Bast, who’d cast her spell once again without warning bell.

“No wait! I throw out no bait,” she said in near desperation, as in exasperation I’d started to turn away. “Come no closer, then, but stay where you are; stand away thus far, but hear what I have to say… Stay.” I looked at her again — foolish sin — and she appeared differently, intently gently. Innocent yet magnificent. Calm. Herself numinous balm for all my wounds, hurts and pains and strains. “Don’t go away. Stay.” And so I did.

She looked sad, but under glow of bright light of the moon, not at all bad. Neither was she mad, but upon my stopping and turning back toward her, just a bit glad … mournfully so, but not scornfully as she had been when we’d met before and she’d set about to emasculate me! Had she changed? Perhaps she has a story, too, so why should I worry to hear her tale? Can I not bear as much, or shall I so utterly fail as a man?

“I was thrown out by my mother; blown out by God to live forever upon sod of earth,” Bast began as if in answer to my thought … but what had I just bought? “I am wicked, twisted, afflicted, and unacquitted. Restricted here … convicted of crimes I never committed, I admit I’ve become addicted… Oh! But hear me, dear one! Let some other sun shine in your heart! Give me mercy’s part, and let our relationship begin again without stain of past nor strain of lies!”

I began stepping forward toward her again. But what of funeral pyre? Is she still the same liar? Will she set me to the fire? Desert wind blew threw and somehow I knew … but I came well within reach of arm and potential harm, yet strangely with no alarm. She changed, I could clearly see; wrapped herself around me, bound me. I made not a sound. Nothing of this seemed to confound. “You have only to pass through the fire as if in a chasse.”

But pyres are for funeral fires, I thought to myself, though I’d already brought doom upon myself. I didn’t care; to escape the DarkWomangloom of this world was enough for me to assume any change would be fresh breath, even death. How to pass through, though, when lying down and dying is what’s called for here? Bast laughed, but not half as cruelly as she could, and coolly explained, “I was speaking metaphorically, but not horribly, my love; certainly not with austerity or in vulgarity.”

Cold. Cold in her hold. Breath. Her breath smelled of death.

“Only lie down and drown yourself in the flames, and do not blame yourself for so doing… You’re going to be mine.”

.

.

BE

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Now you have come full circle to vernal passion
In high fashion, leaving behind ashen dreams,
So walk your talk on the wild side of the sun
Where dreams abide, where none can chide you
For who you are and will become some bright day

. . .

Stay
Don’t stray
Or enter the fray
But seize the new day
With no suffocating dismay
And enjoy a life in this new way
Here in Evergreen there is no decay

. . .

You are the star ignited from afar, shining brightly
In nightly sky;
You are the stream that flows below radiant heaven
To leaven earth;
You are the key for eyes to see the life-giving tree
Standing so free;

BE

In the Corner with Maftet in Bubastis

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Here it begins: my long series of mytho-poetica inspired by two very talented writer-poet-bloggers ~ see below ~ one interwoven, multifaceted tale that would consume me for months. For those of my readers who have not read: Enjoy! (But you may want to begin with the two pieces that inspired me… Again, see below.)

qadesh2[1]What am I doing here in this drear room in Bubastis in doom of shadow corner, so many sadistic strange faces? And who’s the witch that paces back and forth like she’s the frackin’ dream queen?

“Yeah! That witch is the bitch of war, my dear,” voice at my shoulder, and I shuddered. “She’ll dance and prance, but blood lust is a must for Bast; she just likes to drown her victims in fine wine first before lunging for the kill.” Light laughter. “Yeah, it’s her thrill.”

And the cats; I like cats, but their purring was alluring. Slap! “Bitch! Wake up unless you wanna be her boy-toy! She’ll suck you dry and leave you to rot in graveyard lot! Stupid man! I knew you needed me here; your haven is craven fear, right? Right! No might, no sight, no fight… Pathetic! Come here… No! Near, my love. Why the hell do you have an ear if you can’t hear?”

“But who are you?”

“Maftet, wife of Ma’at, but why in God’s name do you want to know? Just shut the hell up and stand behind me, kind of like you’re scarred, because you are ~ like an infant ~ far from home.” Wide shoulders, strong as boulders, silken hair, back bare and luscious. “Look! Her next victim, so unaware! Listen to her dictum, and the man is so blind! Men have always been, and there’s the purr of her cat to allure! Gods! I’ll rip apart the cats and make hats of hell ere I tear into her and chime Shai’s death bell!”

Bast like feline and soothed among cast and crew of old tale spun, told anew, unheard by little bird, “ah! but his mistress sees now how he’s ready to bow! Good so far; maybe she’ll steal him for her own meal, if she’ll stop drinking Bastian wine so finely laced, not benignly … Is she stupid, too; so putrid! She still doesn’t see!”

“See what?” Trembling. Assembling courage, but so damn pitiful in mystical presence of pleasance of Maftet, my savage protectress so ready to ravage … who? One and all to maul? Maybe I should crawl…

“The stich, my love-dove, so weak and bleak! The stitch on the rich bitch-witch!”

“Where? I see no tear…”

Living_Ma__at_by_sphinxmuse[1]“Ha! No wonder! You blunder through life anyway; yeah! you need to stay with me, even after this day! You’re too damn blind to find your way; that’s how you stumbled into the gloom of this room in the first place, and with no trace beyond Ma’at … and she ought to have pity on you!” I moved closer to her back for lack of strength. Laughter, demeaning but preening, too. “Look! The stich covers more than a niche! At the bottom of her neck.” More laughter, this time cruel with some bloody drool. “You should’ve seen her before, just after… Star-knife slice and I made her a wreck!”

The man moved closer. His mistress pricked, gave an unseen kick. Ah! But Bast and Maftet noticed ~ it was really obvious ~ but the man was oblivious. And then the woman began to weave as something began to leave with spirit heave… And cat’s eyes turned green, so serene … hypnotic, exotic, erotic. It wouldn’t be long now…

Instinctively I grabbed Maftet for fear… “It’s alright, my dear, just stay near… We’ve played this play many times before, and it’ll not be you who hits the floor!”

.

Note: This was all very gratefully inspired by the creative work of unbolt and Tony Single, specifically their collaborative work, the second part of which is entitled, Sekhmet. Thank you both for this fascinating, exciting new venture … not, mind you, an addition to their creative work. One might consider this an inspired ‘spin-off?’ Whatever the case may be, hope you (my readers) enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed imagining and writing it!

Timid

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Not even the night can hide the fright;
Like light it only illumines the blight,
Keeping in heart’s sight the dæmons
Who haunt and taunt beleaguered soul
Too eager to fleece for meagre peace
Of mind of the kind not so hard to find;
It’s a blow-away show, sham serenity,
Gross obscenity of misplaced identity
As they whisper in your ear only fear
And real peace is near if you can hear
One calling to keep you from falling
So low from another blow to the heart,
But you only start to take the part
Of suppliant making pure covenant
With unbounded Life… You are…

Timid

 

Suddenly Shiver

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Car crash feeling, no healing, my wheels are spinning
But I’m upside down in the middle of this dusty town,
Broken crown, frown on my face, it’s blood I taste
As I waste away today in the midst of demonic fray;
And do tell who can say who didn’t pay the light bill,
But it’s stark dark with blackened sun shining above
Like God drew a glove over that star so near, so far;
Heaven blood red and the dead walk and freely talk
Where life abounds no more, so I pour another drink
And blink and think, ‘Who am I now that I bow low?’

Suddenly Shiver

Treasure* of the heart (With Jon)

Can you believe my dear friend, Nandita, surprised me and honored me with another “collaboration?” After reading my poem, “Treasure,” she added her own interpretive, poetic spice between the lines of my original. Very well done, Nandita! Very well done, indeed! And thank you!

Manan Chained

Treason of the heart in perfect season
The heart has no fences**
For reason known only to the pure soul
The soul is omniscient
Cleansed from stain by a graceful rain
Ah the much awaited healing rains
Freed from the chain of wicked strain,
Fell upon all my done and undone sins

Washed of the stain of vain rebellion,
A rebel on a track lost I was
Free to be, to see and eat of the Tree,
The tree spoke to me then
Casting off the fetter for better life
Shedding light on my ignorance
On this plane in a sane frame of mind;
Self-awakening engulfing me now

Clear Voice now to hear without a fear;
I conquered the dark
An overthrow blow to the ruling powers
Of greed, vanity, and arrogance
To now flow in liberty hitherto unknown,
As i walk towards the blue skies
To bid farewell…

View original post 266 more words

Treasure

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Treason of the heart in perfect season
For reason known only to the pure soul
Cleansed from stain by a graceful rain
Freed from the chain of wicked strain,
Washed of the stain of vain rebellion,
Free to be, to see and eat of the Tree,
Casting off the fetter for better life
On this plane in a sane frame of mind;
Clear Voice now to hear without a fear;
An overthrow blow to the ruling powers
To now flow in liberty hitherto unknown,
To bid farewell to hell to no more sell
One soul for parcel of peace in lease
Of mere existence for a day in the way
Of lies that fly from the Enemy bound
To hound the spirit of all who crawl
Upon this earth far from glory’s hearth;
We now know our worth in love from above
As we love because we first were loved…

Treasure.

Laugh

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Your joy just grows and it shows;
It’s like a whiplash of happiness,
No gaseous flashiness in an uptown
Explosion of giddiness as you drown
In laughter at the coming hereafter;
And youth is renewed when viewed
From behind ~ how kind ~ so smile
One mile wide ~ don’t hide or chide;
You’ve got the right dress to press
On to success and bless yourself
As the world goes to hell
And the bell tolls twelve
As you sell your mockery
For six pence as genuine gleefulness;
Yeah, take it out on the town, girl
And unfurl your flag while you hurl
Your skin-sag bag to the north wind

Laugh.

Up To Eternal Fire

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Ah! Does the taste of hope waste away
When the bell tolls in this earthen hell?
Will love keep what was given in sleep,
Or that which seems real only in dreams?
You bade reality fade

And how high will you fly till you sigh
In utter frustration in stark recognition
Of your own condition, and then low bow
To how your highest self is not high…
So you say ‘good bye’

Ah! Only in you are too few the moments
Of sweet satisfaction in total relaxation
Of all your preconditions for exaltation;
You should’ve known you’re not enough…
On your very own

Yeah, you need another — brother, sister
And father, mother — to hold you up now
And make you bold, to no longer quake
In sheer fear with free-flowing tears…
Heart torn apart

What will make you, what will break you?
A three-stranded cord’s much stronger
And lasts longer than one and one alone;
Yeah, you’ve been thrown but you’ve grown;
Now you’ve been shown…

Yeah, you can reach higher than yourself,
Higher than the sky … higher and higher,
Up to eternal fire

Note: Inspired by “Lover’s Affliction” by Nandita of Manan Chained and Josslyn of A Life in Transition.

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