Quinn Mighty in Pen

There was a man named Quinn, who was mighty with the pen
And did win the favor of all sorts of men, but he did greatly sin
Again and again till he dwelled in a den of dark so stark
That he could no longer see and words left him bereft
Of light so that try as he might Quinn could no longer write,
And he became quite the sight to behold having sold himself
To gloom and doom — so sad and utterly bad — and he cried
As he tried to fill his days in the haze that had become his life
So rife with pain and no gain and stain upon his lonely heart;
So goes the tale of Quinn who once was so mighty with the pen

Advertisements

One Auspicious Morning

It was an auspicious morning many years ago
When all the world around seemed to lay low
And fade till life was like some waking dream
And the cream of heaven flowed freely to me,
Overwhelming me with more than I could see
And the feeling was surreal but also very real,
And it was like a healing balm to calm my soul
As I walked around but barely talked to folks,
Just taking it all in as it came . . . what was it?
It was nearly like an out-of-body experience,
Yet there I was in the midst of real reality . . .
Or maybe I just then stepped into true reality?
Perhaps I was seeing the world as it truly is:
Moving shadows, reflections and refractions
Of a reality behind what we consider reality,
I do not know but this show ended too fast;
It did not last and is now buried into my past
But I still wonder if I might somehow blunder
Into such an experience sometime again . . . ?

Tales Upon Tales to be Told

Have you ever seen a story walking?
They’re stalking you and not talking,
But they are all around everywhere,
Bound up with tales great and small,
Tall ‘n short, of runs, falls and sport!
Look around ‘n hear the quiet sound
Of imperative narratives superlative
And comparative to great literature,
Carried on wind around every bend!
Have you ever seen a story standing,
Demanding to be told by the bold?
Open your eyes, listen with the heart
And take part in the one grand story
Of the world enwrapped around you!
Ah! Tales to be seen, heard and told!
Stories upon stories upon stories . . .

Old Town, New Town

There are cracks in the streets that meet potholes — ever widening,
Deepening — in the old town where Mayor Fiddlesticks plays the clown,
While alleyways drown in raw sewage.

There are breaks in the buildings that stand to bake in the sun —
Foundations corroding, eroding — while the old town council serves
Up cake by the stagnant lake.

There are shattered windows in the old town schools, where classrooms
Are filled with pools of drool from open-mouthed, sleeping students
While teachers dare not wake to take the time to reach into the minds
Of pupils to actually teach each precious soul.

There are stained walls along the temple halls in the old town, where
Once its edifice was the crown treasure and pleasure of the people,
Who looked toward its steeple, its once-glorious spire enough to inspire
With angelic choir singing through open gates bringing hope and joy,
But the only sound there now heard is the infrequent, loud pounding
On now the now-closed doors.

Ah! But there is a new town, where ne’er is seen the frown, with gilded
Gates and freshly laid streets paid for out of the royal coffer to offer
To people the best, who invest their lives in this hive of happiness;
Where residents work and play during the day, enjoying colorful parks,
In which the larks sing their song, bringing joy to every girl and boy;
Where new temples dot the horizon, where wizened sages turn the pages
Of bright hope in numinous light and tell their stories of glories yet
To come … at least say some of this this new town and sparkling crown
Of a king of mysterious renown.

 

Note: Inspired by New Town: A Fable … Unless You Believe by Harry Blamires

Ma’at and the Pyramid of Truth

goddess-maat-scales2“Stinking, aristocratic snobs! Dogmatic fanatic jerks with all their quirks! I’ll gash them and smash them against the stones of the pyramids!” Ma’at railed in rage as angels wailed and begged for mercy in pity of humanity. But this was not all of humanity; just those caught up in extreme vanity and the insanity of believing they were better and higher than so many others, but Ma’at knew they were liars — to themselves and everyone else — and this is what angered her and endangered their lives.

Maftet had left me in the keep of Ma’at, like a little sheep, only moments before, or so it seemed. Now I was on the floor, or something like a floor, with no door in sight and pitch like night, except round the goddess of light and truth, justice and holy custom. And Ma’at looked into … something. Crystal ball? No! Nothing so silly! Cauldron? Certainly not! She wore no witches hat; Ma’at was much grander than that! It was like a piece of the sky with clouds flying around the edges. Yes, she was peering clearly through the heavens, leering at arrogant asses and their prideful passes.

“Because they have more silver and gold, they’re bold and so uncouth as they sleuth through life.” Ma’at glanced at me, and she pierced my soul with her eyes so wise. “Look at how they smile a mile wide, and slide back and forth as they glide around one another just waiting for an opportunity to stab and steal with complete impunity. Is there any unity in their community? Ha! Community of thieves! And they believe they can deceive and ne’er receive penalty for their iniquity? Ha! Fools! My sword drools for their blood!”

I’d never had any love for the wealthy with such unhealthy opinions, thinking themselves so mighty when they were, in fact, only minions of their money, blinking idiots who could buy knowledge they never learned nor earned. Still, the wrath of Ma’at sent chills down my spine in fine waves of fear and even some pity for the bitty-knaves. “Is there no other way?” I dared to ask “Can’t they be turned instead of everlastingly burned?” And quickly I added “Please, don’t be angry with me, but kindly put my mind at ease and appease my curiosity.”

Ma’at laughed much like Maftet — kind but not blind to my ignorance — and spoke with voice to prod and poke: “Do you ask mercy for the merciless? Shed tear for the uncaring, my dear? Would you rather they continue to rob and steal from the earth and poor every sumptuous meal? Continue the expansion of their mansions built on lust and greed that leads so many to dust and ashes as they plead for their very lives? When did you become the great defender of such grotesque pretenders?”

MAAT3Suddenly the room, though not exactly a room, lightly glistened with beautiful hue of soft blue as I listened. “There was One, who taught you to show mercy to the unmerciful, I know full well. He rang the mighty bell of truth, of which I am the face and voice, and laced this with the grace of Dyēus. Yes! And you’ll not hear me lament one precious word of statement he uttered in the clutter of this diseased and dying world. But truth and justice unfurled is my appointment; to be the ointment of the fearsome holy upon all stages of this world till the end of the ages… Now let’s begin again, my love, and look at the brook of sin they cross as they toss mere crumbs to the poor.”

And it was true; Ma’at was right: The blight of poverty, the sight of spoiled earth, nations embroiled in war … all for love of money, like bees for their honey. “Make no mistake; there are the wealthy who use what they’ve been given in healthy ways. They do not abuse, but take their responsibility very deliberately. They are sensible and charitable; prudent but always for the improvement of others, as sisters and brothers. And the world into which they were born, they adorn with goodness in gratitude, so the latitude of their blessings is, indeed, very wide. But on the other side evil abides, as the seed of greed grows into thorns and thistles that cannot adorn anything, but leaves those quite empty and forlorn.” Her tan-gold skin shimmered, brown eyes glimmered, and she smiled. “This is all like the pyramid: Every word, heard and unheard; every crook and look; every event perfectly planned and damned; every thought and each item bought … all, everything, like stone upon stone angled-rising to the pinnacle of truth … the truth of life.”

Hmmm … I thought I understood, but this pyramid seemed somehow upside down, but perhaps I would learn more…

.

Note: first image of Ma’at from http://www.pixshark.com; second from http://www.thecrystalgatewy.org

Maftet: Lessons Along the Nile, Part V

Maftet“You believe you’re sitting round this campfire, and in this you’re not wrong. You also believe you’re situated in a large forest but this belief is not as strong. More than this, you believe you’ve been hurled into an altogether different world, but this is far less coherent though inherent in your present experience in which all appearance is precarious and mysterious. But now in brief I’ve shown you something important about belief.” Maftet concluded as she prodded glowing embers of burning timbers.

She looked at me, so torn away, while I looked on with only dismay. Unenlightened and frightened, and why not? I’d been brought to this strange place instantly from safe space of home and hearth, and very possibly from the earth of my birth. “No, you know I won’t deceive; in fact I’d like to relieve you, and I fully expect you to believe whatever I might say in light of what’s now taken place in the space of but a few days, though it seems such a haze and you probably feel like a rat trapped in a maze.” She chanced a chuckle. “I only mean to point out that however much relief you find in belief depends on how deeply and strongly you believe what you receive. I’ve tried to tell you before, but you’ve chosen to ignore. Now the door has been opened for me to explain again, as best I can, and expect you listen with open heart and mind not so blind.”

Maftet quietly kicked a log into the fire and picked up her stick to stir again the embers of timber while she thought and fought inside for something to say to disarm my rising alarm. No harm had yet come, but what more could she say on an otherwise bright and beautiful day. She chanced sad smile, wishing she had some way to dissolve the complexity, resolve my perplexity… Two squirrels twirled in the trees above in playful love. “Look again, my dove, in the distance, towering above the city. What do you see with eyes now free?”

“Yes, in Bubastis, the tall tower, of course, but surely not the one that brought the blow of ice and snow … the Tower built by Bast for power?”

“Yes and no,” Maftet answered slow and on-flowed, “the tower you see is an exotic mystery, built on the foundation of the old, untold to those who now live and survive in this dæmonic hive. The base of Bast now lay beneath thick brick more newly set, but with doors to corridors leading down to drown in darkness all those who dare the crumbling stairs. You were not there, but the room you were in that terrible hour was like a tomb in that very tower, so sour with cats and bats and pissed-stained mats! Bast takes to ancient basement only select few to chew on raw, living flesh so fresh, with screams that make her cream.”

god-rod[1]Ere more frightened, I tightened my grip around her hip, and she tauntingly laughed. “Do you know how much pleasure it gives me to lengthen the measure of your fear; what treasure it is to make you quiver and shiver, so you hold me so tight for protection against aggression or infection of some deadly pestilence that lays waste at noon for boon of the abyss? But no need to be upset at my words — yes, of course I heard — but you’re not immortal; only flesh and blood carved from mud. Still, you’re precious in my sight, and right in the light of Dyēus.”

Still clinging and bringing myself as close to Maftet as I could, even if I would crawl inside her and there abide; nevertheless, said I sadly, “You mock and demean me, without one whit of mien; you torment me with gleeful intent and never relent till you’ve given vent…”

“Oh! Hush!” Maftet hugged me tighter with brighter face interlaced with glimmering shimmer of light. “I only tease to appease my own unease… I’ve never loved mortal man, but you’re so unlike your clan; more elegant and feminine, benevolent and delicate, affectionate and compassionate… What more? You’ve bored a hole through my soul, and made yourself part of my very heart. And so now, too, I start to know how Dyēus loves humanity despite its insanity and vanity! And Ma’at loves you, too, because you are so true! So now, you’re enfolded by two lovers who ever hover round you to keep you safe under cover.”

Warm inside, I cherished the moment with no more torment; my spirit rose ecstatically that they chose me to be received and interweaved into their amorous communion. How could it be; I could not see… Of all people, why me? “For that reason,” Maftet smiled. “Your season is like Autumn, humble and beautiful, unpretentious, conscientious and never contentious. As the world turns and burns and you churn inside with still so much to learn and unlearn — for all that, we love you, coy baby boy!” And then provocative touch, erotic kiss, exotic aroma…

“Ah! But now do you understand? About the beginning in unity, one split in two, then restored harmony; foolery that led to cruelty; the burst of anger and hatred when one murdered one in submission to the willing of Lilith for the killing of innocence; how, then, dark death entered upon the earth; how Bast was seduced and cursed, then nursed wickedness and burst forth in insatiable thirst for human vermin? Why it is she built the ancient tower for power to leaven the lesser heaven with evil? How seen and unseen war has continued, and how Şeytan was brought low by near-fatal blow by show of light from bright rising of the one Sun of righteousness? But also how this war continues yet, while earth is beset by the talking apes, who continue to rape Gaia for whom there is no escape? You see, my love-dove, in that drear room in the tower yonder all of this was unclear, but you were so near the whole of history in that room filled with noxious consistory.”

ciurlionis02[1]“So the man … who couldn’t understand? Bast tricked him and so he was merely another victim, sweet prize for her lies? Just another spilling of blood for filling of belly?” I shook my head slowly, sadly with look at the newer tower in the distance. “Then such life matters so little…”

“No! But he has a wife, which makes you wonder how he’d blunder into such an odious place … but, then, stupidity was written all over his face!” Another wild kiss. “But you’re not there but here with me, and Ma’at makes three! And we will love you and teach you more, reach deeper into your soul, search heart and mind, and together bind all blackened thoughts and feelings reeling through your inner self.” Tightened hold, another bold kiss. “But where to next, my beloved?”

“Anywhere, but certainly not enclosed in tower; to that I’m adamantly opposed…”

And Maftet smiled and licked her lips again…

.

Note: Painting by Lithuanian artist M.K. Ciurlionis; image of Dyēus from www.pinterest.com; image of warrior woman from http://www.iranpoliticsclub.net

Maftet: Lessons Along the Nile, Part IV

WinterMahtetUp from the river again, this time with shiver of cold and hold on Maftet, who quickly threw over me thick shawl to guard from squall in this barren, rugged land of dearth and famine. But here was where? I wondered against tear of fierce wind that seemed to pierce even through heavy cloth like swath made by cruel, icy scythe, so deadly and I so unsteady on my feet and knees, about to freeze.

I saw Maftet stoop for one then the other foot to slip on boot, lushly soft and warm against the storm with treacherous blow of snow. And then she girdled me with kilt like thick quilt out of nothing, but something. From where thick shawl, soft but rugged boots, and quilted kilt? Did she knit from whit of snow? Ah, but I would never know! I was warm, anyway, so why complain; Maftet made the pain of biting cold leave without reprieve.

“So prettily dressed now!” She laughed. “I’m impressed, if I do say so myself, but keep close by my side, precious bride; you’ll get lost in the frost.” Maftet smiled and winked at her trinket. “And, of course, you want to know where we are? Not far from where we were; look there! The river still flows below ice so nicely packed on surface. Careful in your pace, and we’ll cross the space to the other side to make our stride forth to the north.”

I dared not ask why north as we made our way that day along her chosen path alongside the frozen Nile.

“Much-spilled blood brought flood; excessive vice brought ice,” she intoned in manner that chilled me to the bone. So this is the age of ice? But what to see here in world of fear? Or learn in burn of frozen wind and churn of snow above and below? “Not far now and you’ll spy the tower high; built toward heaven for eleven years with sweat and tears and curses that reached the ears of Dyēus.”

Babel?

“Babel in Bubastis, yes,” she smiled and licked her lips, pulling at my hips. “Yes … confused and frozen for the ill-chosen, my love. Judgment from above to lay low the billow of Şeytan; to cleanse the rash of brash ddiafol with lash of wind; to bend down dæmonic pride and keep humanity in stride with humility and gracious tranquility.” Maftet pulled me tight. “You’re fright is right, but don’t fight the feeling, or you’re sealing your own fate; do not sedate yourself to what awaits.” She kissed my eyes to make me wise … or at least to loose the ties of lies. How could I know? I only returned the kiss below her neck, between her breasts in willing obeisance.

“So the tower was built in Bubastis? Not by the rabble of Babel?”

“Conflation of stories, my dear; the dilation of one and inhalation of the other. Not strange across the range of time, but first Bubastis!” She burst into laughter. “Then the tower built for power by the unmeek weak… Don’t you think?” She nodded then and prodded me forward. At her insistence I looked in the distance, and there lay crystalline city in beclouded day, sinister in this endless winter. And tower tall, unfinished, unblemished yet ready to fall.

frozen_building2“Bast built this city, named for herself in pity, and all for tall tower after she was cast forth from what some call the halls of Valhalla.” Heaven? Another smile, sideway glance to lance my spirit. “Yes and no, my love; but one of the heavens low. There is more than one, you know. Or do you now forget even what you knew before you blew into that room of gloom … before I craved and saved you?” Light laughter from my master.

“So she thought to bridge the gap twixt ridge of earth and low-heaven?”

“And bought the souls of cast and crew to do her bidding in building city and tower so high to sky, yes. But what is built so falsely is so easily blundered and torn asunder. Besides, lies always lead to profusion of confusion; is it any wonder, then, there are so many tongues flung throughout the earth, languages old and young? Breakdown in communication between kingdom and nation and every station of humanity? Even the least beast can better commune than man!”

“Can we explore and see more?”

“No!” Maftet wildly shook her head with look of dread. “Never here, not now; not even to walk through open gate to satiate curiosity. “No, my love. This is but a frozen cove of evil, where dæmons rove after God drove them, too, from the halls of Valhalla. And long will it be ere they wind their way elsewhere to roam and find some other home. But now, in this time, there is only chime of hell in distant city, resistant to all good and fair and mild, my child.”

“Then why are we here in this place so drear?” I burst in anger despite the danger. But Maftet only embraced and interlaced me with arms and legs, and wept as she kept me in her hold.

“As it has been told, this is the mold of your misery in the history of humanity. You have to see what some have become; I’m showing you the fissions and divisions that cause so much pain. Isn’t that plain enough, my love? This ice will melt and Spring will come and bring new life … but for how long? Does goodness belong in this world, and the angels’ song? We shall see, won’t we?”

.

Note: image of Maftet from http://oktruebelievers.com/exhibitors; image of frozen tower from http://kevinmeek.com/mwo