LITERATURE 2001

Exhibition of Excellence

Sardonyx

Inclination

Opiate

Estarius

Princess

Rosedagger

Dagazia

Medallion

ZenRaven

Visions From the Center

   "At phase transition, all the concertos turn back into words"

   - Theophilus III -

Sardonyx

A Schism Yawning between The Wraith Soul and Valhalla.
She agonized within. On Her cruel passage from
Mortality to Death Beyond.

Tortured, Abused and Raped.
At Death's Threshold, And still she fought on.
Within, her hold on her mortality,
Her spirit aloose.

Refusing to let go of the shell which gained her
entrance to the physical world.
She had fought as well, her captors,
though no longer caring of the fact that all was at naught.

She had been swept abreft,
As though Cut from life's Thread, by the scythes
which daily claimed their Due of souls
with neither Mercy nor Thought.

Suppurating, cold flesh,
Left behind not by lack of will,
but the fraility of the husk which
could not hold such fiery spirit.
She had made her way To Where All souls were
Judged and deemed, Worthy or Useless.

The Valkyrie which guarded Valhalla's gate,
And whom she made her choosing.
She carried herself with a warriors' Stance
and the feeling of Transcending Strength of Spirit.

And The Valkyrie gave her a fierce smile
as she bade her to cross. The Abyssmal schism
. And so she did.
And She fell into that void of
nothing, but not one wail,
Nor impetuous scream of defiance.
She had accepted the judgement of
the deity and closed her heart to
self righteous anger.

And as she fell, The illusion was swept away,
With her in the midst of Valhalla's
Perpetual War of the Warriors' souls.
And The Valkyrie, thus has made Her Choice.

---

The Nectar Matrix

The winner would receive nothing
Last became first
In droves, they paraded, each named after the equinox.
Under their grass veils lay the keys to piety
Diversion would supplant Direction
Rabbi emotion would be guest of the species.

Fashions by Imperatrix of Zanvier.

Dinner will be delayed
Subtraction will now be served

- Afterthought -

---

Inclination

Goddess Turned Mortal- She wished she could ignore what sadness was,
And what stars can see, from so high above.....
could forget where gods slept and why mothers wept.

- Giorgione 1478?-1510 um Judith 1504 -

Woe to thee who wanders too close to my cave
Who dares to awaken me from my long sleep
with their incessant clamorings of western civilization

Heed the wrath of the pacifist flower
Woven in coiled silence to a higher power
Away!......

---

Estarius

Rendevous

Arriving in trance, on intuition's cue
As both one and many, together and apart
Linked by our most etheric thoughts
By a common if not identical vision
Availed and awarded through our own uniqueness
We remember the art of celebration
We meet by the water's edge
In unscripted brilliance
To revel in the majesty of the stilled moment
To awaken to the marvels of the universe
To submit to the magic of the star filled night

We seek beauty, truth, wisdom and peace
Explorers we are, the ones who dare to know more,
to dissolve barriers and escape the material grip
To discover the secrets of space, time and consciousness.
We are holy.......

We meet again, by the sea
Fearless in our quest, serene in our knowledge of who and what we are
We close our eyes, to awaken within another's dream......
To share, to grant and give a piece of the magic,
a flicker of our scintillant interiors,
to transform by the laws of Nature.
Nothing false, nothing forced......
Everything connected in one glorious, complex whole
The celebration never ends.......

Follow me, I follow you
Through the corridors of infinity
Through the spectral portals of a higher dimension
Into the guiding wisdom and power of the Higher Self
Unto all that silence eventually finds
Meet you here again, at night
By the water's edge

---

Opiate

The broken angel of stone hangs uselessly over the fallen
alter, but soon she will spread her chipped wings
and raise her cyrstal face to first rays of dawn.
Her tears have carved tracks in her frozen face,
but graduallly the sun's rays bring warmth to her
pale limbs. For so long she has laid there.....
in penace to the hole in herself?
Who holds the key to the charm that has has
frozen her here? She knows the key still
burns in her heart. She opens her
tired eyes and stares in surprise at the stranger
before her and marvels at her own beauty.
With a shock of recognition, she realizes the
face before is her own .....filled with
the light of dawn and the hope brought
from the morrow. The crystal face breaks
and the angel is just a girl inspired again.

Licking the dew drops My lust go whilst you
While I wait in the glass box I am in now,
Peering out at others like confused ants
For I must learn at a supersonic rate if I am
to meet my looming fate. Idle for too long....
Perhaps they have chosen another.

The world glows without another at my side
Curse me. I want a pretty one to play with
What a witch I am.
The doors have opened.
I was awestruck by the elements, * dazed and confused*
I have given the power source the name 'Goddess'
I am called " storm child "
I continue to laugh at the twists of fate
I do as the goodess bids and have no guilt
I have been forseen as a Priestess
To white lace, mirth is a gift
Join me on my mountain

The astral girl has flowers of evil on her mind
She hears an echo from within the mirror behind
" I am an angel from the garden. It pays not well to
speak too lightly of the tramplings on my flowers "
In a Norweigan cathedral, two whisper the secrets of
the ages. One is dressed in her white Opiate dress,
Heavy music can be heard, The pentacle is touched, their blessings
are counted. They choose happiness.....

Greetings m'Lord. Your wickedness excites me.
Grace me with your presence, evil one.
May I lay in your arms and sleep with you for a
couple of centuries? Let me sentence you to immortality
in my magic garden. Shine with me. Later we shall
prowl the night again, to rule the etheric, to rewrite
the definition of "more". There is much to be done.
I raise my glass of red wine to the stars....
-Opiate,the author

Dagazia,  Starwalker's Dreams