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Man's MistakeThe birds did fly; the animals did run.
Said they i' fear so great, "God Himself has come."
Man did flee also from the greatest scourge.
Yet, never did he find a purchase or
a safety in the unrelenting earth.
The birds did fly; the animals did run.
Said they i' fear so great, "God Himslef has been."
Man did flee also from his knowing sin.
Yet, nowhere did he find a purchase nor
salvation in th' forgiveness of his God.
The birds did fly; the animals did run.
Said they i' fear so great, "God Himself has seen."
Man did no longer flee from his demise.
For nowhere could he find--to his surprise--
a place to bide his time and hide because
his harmony with nature was destroyed.
The birds did fly; the animals did run.
Said they i' fear so great, "God Himself has gone"
Man is no more and who will be the next?
You, I, he, she? Who shall it be? Never
shall we make man's mistake. He did sever
all his relationships with God and he
did stand in th' open by himself.
Storm In A City
The darkness crowds in, and the clouds amass
on the horizon. They obscure the lights
all through the city. Th' wind begins to blow;
it whips and whirls its way across the grass.
The pitter-pat of rain soaks thirsting ground
like no tomorrow turning statues o' brass
to forgotten men riding tarnished steeds.
The sounds of mothers calling children home
are blown away and shattering like glass.
Then the thunder rolls and lightning flashes bright.
The storm, it truly has begun at last.
Foundered Star
Gazing outward.
Jewels sighted 'gainst a sable sward.
Diamonds in th' night.
A spot of coal where light once shone bright.
TimeLike grains of sand
time flows between
my fingers, and
before I know
it all has gone.
It leaves a trace
of glistening
to haunt the edge
of memory
forevermore.
Beauty
Crimson splashes laughing as they
dance among the bright green grasses:
roses blooming in a meadow.
Morning's beauty. Beauty's mourning.
Golden warmth on palest brown and
deepest green. A shadowy glade.
Sunbeams lighting forest clearings.
Afternoon's most glorious joys.
Silvery sheen bathing ever-
ything in an otherworldly
glow. The moonbeams spilling, falling.
Quiet evenings in the open.
Twinkling pin-points far up in the
sable velvet gazing down on
us with their own abstract notions.
Night's eyes: open, gleaming, watching.
Cold
Eyes...the color of the
clearest ice that can't decide
whether it is blue or
grey...but shades the light...just so.
Angelical
Golden tresses,
Spilling, falling.
Beautiful eyes,
glitt'ring, winking.
So-happy heart
kindly smiling.
The Tempest
Rolling, crashing, violent waves
beat upon the tiny island's
coast as harsh winds cry out in the
distance; frothy white caps the swells.
From afar on the horizon black clouds
sweep towards the isle. Day turns night and
cold becomes the world. The sounds of thunder
break the false calm shaking awake the sea.
Lightning strikes the sky alight with brilliant
flashes; howling winds whip and lash the palms
to and fro; pelting rain carries leaves and
fronds down washed out rivulets in the sand.
The clouds split asunder opening the
path for sunbeams to pierce the gloom and warm
away the last of the disquietude
making a cerulean of the heavens.
Glassy mirrors ripple in the
thousands as they roll up sandy
beaches smooth'd by gentle breezes
flowing amongst the swaying greens.
Shadows
Sable pale reflections of the living
populating nether worlds in souls and
minds like airy phantoms seething i' limbo.
Glimpsed from th' corner of an eye as fleeting
darkness roiling in the places where no light
with its holy brightness wishes to tread.
Evening's murky inky denizens come
out to play amongst the children of the
day. Born of the Night; given form by Light.
Ablaze
Crimson sparks
flicker inandout of life like
tiny souls consumed in an
inferno
while blue-white tongues lick between the
stacks of wood and waves of heat roll
forth to warm those nearby basking
in the pleasant glow of the fire.
Fated
She's spinning far the silken threads
she stripped from th' catterpillar's womb;
yet twisting, knotting lifelines that
she dutifully draws from her loom.
Taking up the threaded hearbeat,
sister two metes silken string for
mortal measure, from her great seat
passing counted lots along predestined paths.
Snatching forth silently smoothed yarn,
she three shears the whispy threads apart;
ending the life, ending the love,
ending the beating of a heart.
Accitus Tempestatis
Magna tete vi invocamus noctis Hecate,
Omnipotens te potestate Juppiter aeris,
Aeole vi teque ventorum; atque petimus
nubes tendere vestro polo auxilio atras.
Tonabit fragor; ferietis fulmine terras;
ventos irruere in terram caelumque movebis
omnipotens; et verberabit pluvia terras;
Aeole, vento arbores agmine demolieris;
atque Hecate, inundabis campos aequore toto.
O di, fietis tempestatem tenebrosam!
The Call of the Storm
We invoke you, great Hecate, with th' power of th' night,
by the force of the air, you, omnipotent Jove,
by the strength of the winds, you, Aeolus the high;
so we seek by divine aid to stretch clouds of black
on the sky. With your lightningbolt strike all the lands;
an the thunder will crash; ye almighty shall cause
breezes 'gainst the earth and sky to bluster;
demolish many trees with battle-hardy winds,
Aeolus; Hecate too, with all the sea, the plains
do flood. O gods, become for us an inky storm!
Noctu
Per noctu ambulamus lucos prospicientes
lumine fulgente arbores herbamque fruticesque.
Tendo manibus et tango frondes viridesque;
ridetque florum odorem inspirat ea dulcem.
Miramur naturas orbis venus mea egoque!
Nightly
At night we walk through sacred groves;
our shining eyes are bent upon
the trees and lawn and shrubbery.
My hands stretch forth and stroke green leaves;
she smiles and breathes sweet flow'ry scents.
My love and I, we marvel at
the many faces of the world!
Incendium Inferiorum
Mors venit et impellit alterum in foveam atram
ubi animae damnatae emittant ululatus
compressos a fremitu incendi sine luce
dum diaboli foetidi alis sanguineisque
cingunt flammas similis vulturibus; adhuc
atque cachinnus animi crucriati tam
dolore aeterno sic permeat infera donec
Mors venit et impellit alterum in foveam atram.
Hellfire
Death comes thrusting yet another into th' black pit
where the damned souls mouth their screaming silenced
by the blazing, roaring, lightless fires while
devils stinking and with bloody
wings encircle th' licking flames like
vultures; yet the laughter of a presence
having been tormented so much by a
pain eternal permeates the hells while
Death comes thrusting yet another into th' black pit.
Fons
Ego in ora fontis pacati sedeo atque
observo aequores patentia vitrea sub me:
aquae tremunt cum venti vexillibus eas
permulceant, flucuat et aqua praetereunte
blattae. Suspiciens medidior ipse videt me
ipsum remittentem obtutum meditabundum.
The Fount
Sitting on the seat of
a silent fountain and
observing the glassy seas
beneath my eyes, I see
the waters tremble as
the wayward winds softly
stroke with flutt'ring streamers
of air, and ripple, too
when a single moth goes
on by. Gazing upward,
my wetter self catches
sight of me returning
its pensive gaze.
Defessus
Ita doleoque sum fessissimus ego:
me taedet audiendi solum strepitumque
me taedet videndi solum quos oculi illi
possunt videre. Me taedet amationum.
Me taedet laborandique laetificare
alios. Me taedet supervacanitatis
vitae. Doleoque sum fessissimus ita.
Dormire, curas ponereque tempore multas
et amare amari toto cordine volo.
Weary
I sorrow and I am so weary:
I am tired of hearing only noise and
I am tired of seeing only what my eyes
can see. I am tired of love affairs.
I am tired of laboring to make happy
other people. I am tired of the emptiness
of life. I sorrow and I am so weary.
I want to sleep, to put aside my many cares for a time,
and to love and be loved with all my heart.
Shards of Light
Diamondine drops
scatt'ring through the sky;
sunlight glinting, gleaming,
refracted 'cross those palest
jewels, crashing, splashing to
spuming whiteness: seafoam bounded within
marble beaches, or perhaps
once aloft dissipating
into diaphonous
iridescence.
Certamen
Acri solis nictant tres pedes bis in luce
per aeres circumdantes arcum tenues dum
cenam scindunt corpoream dentes geminique
fulgens tractus celatus est a flumine rubro
quod decurrit contra manus gladiatoris.
Battle
Twice three feet in th' brightest sunlight wink and
trace out arching shapes through tenuous airs
while the twin teeth carve a fleshy dinner,
and the gleaming length is hidden by a
ruby flow which gushes toward the hands of th'
gladiator.
Dolor
Heu! Venus mea tenet potentis nimium, nam
vultu accelerat cordis palpitationem;
paucis verbis evellit istum mihi cordem;
vere, vulnerat adeo saepissime animum;
tamen revenio iterum quod est mea venus.
Tears of a Dragon
Leaking, dripping, falling...
huge drops spilling from the
heart--a dragon's tears lie
puddling earthward steaming
painful mists forth from their
memory o' the soul's sole
ache: love and its bitter toll.
Feverache
Feverish, trembling, shaking.
At the mercy of burning fire.
I quake in pain, in agony
and you sit there, watching,
dispassionate.
I lost your love long ago...
you're moving on, changing
and I'm still here, sick,
physically ill to see you go...
and you sit there, watching,
dispassionate.
Venus
Three fish flow quietly away
tripping downward into darkness.
Three ripples rise across the smooth
sea, welling up fo' divinity:
manes of Neptune's horses dripping
down th' pandoric beauty:
f r a g m e n t s.
Broken sunlight on the water.
Brine
Steely waters
open their arms wide
welcoming out the sky
welcoming down the night
welcoming toward the stars.
A lone gull glides above
caw...c a a a w w w...
and away
cradling a scaley fish in its beak.
Sussurations gently stroke
the surface...spreading spume....
Like Sunlight On Glass
Slickly smooth
absolutely dripping up the windowpanes:
*liquid* fire spattering
from heaven
and all that nonsense
gleaming,
glinting,
like sunlight on glass:
Carpe noctem.
- - Broken g l a s s - -
shards reflecting a thousand times a hundred
Uriel's lone eye.
An Archangel warming the windows
like sunlight on glass.
Swift as a Blink
Persistent. permeating. Blinding.
Only as thick as a single bolt of light...
yet the eyes of
heaven penetrate not
there
<<cold>>
not
here;
Old as yesterday, deep as fear
yet the eyes of
heaven plumb not
here
<<cold>>
not
there;
And so it was on the first Day
For the hands of heaven
guide steeds of
fire
and see not
there
where it is <<cold>>
not
here...
Kore
Mother says to go and play in the fields today
with my attending nymphs, each depending
on me to bring her where we can linger.
The Sun is shining and bees are whining
as I pick flowers for mother's bowers
in this green meadow where I now tread so
carelessly. Rumbling from the deep mumbling
earth below afrights my girlfriends and blights
the flowers laying where we were playing.
A great hole gaping open and draping
th' grass in a pitch gloom spreads out full o' rich doom
so m'Lord Dark may ride and capture a bride
from this scared maiden with flowers laden.
With his deathly speed, he drives a lively steed
so fast he matches my fleet flight an' catches
me into steely arms whence I really
haven't an escape, and make no mistake:
he carries me deeply down on a steeply
sloping path. Destiny, he says to me,
already made me Queen, as he bade me
be. And his desire caused him to aspire
to win my affection with a sweet confection
of pomegranate, though I can't stand it.
And what choice except that I should accept?
I give up this life to become his wife,
the damnedest queen that you've ever seen.
For four months mother sought one side t'other
all the lands crying for me and plying
for word from any one of the many
travelers widely scattered in idly
farming indolence. She breaks their somnolence
by ending summer: my loss did stun her
into forgetting her duties an' setting
awry the season against all reason.
Till the all-father noticed all th' bother.
The thunder-wielder looked up and sealed her
fate and mine: half the year for laughter
up above; the rest as my husband's guest.
So winter prevails with its grand travails,
then--as you all know--summer reigns also.
There I am forever: no longer Kore
but joined to miLord Dark, always bored
in the down below where time moves so slow.
Yet some love will bloom within this still tomb
just as the pale white asphodel fills the night.
Calor
A aestuoso oculo Phoebi aeterni stimulatus
velut aquae et fluxerunt refluxereque tarde
vespere depresso sine ventis sic primit aether
gravis humore qui deprimit pectora fessa
sic etiam nubes candidae altaeque palescunt
per caela caerulea. Oculi somniculosi
tamen amoena in aurarum somnia claudunt.
Heat
Goaded by the burning eye of eternal Phoebus
just as the seas slowly roll out and back again
on heavy, windless evenings, so too do the heavens,
which oppress tired chests, suffocate, heavy with humidity;
so too do the high and dazzling clouds fade away
across the bright blue skies. Sleepy eyes,
however, shut into pleasant dreams of cool breezes.
Magic
Just as wisps of gentle red firm up and blend subtly to royal violet,
Just as first one then two and suddenly uncountably many firepricks pierce the veils of night--brethren to the Sun,
Just as the very air calms in the moments before a tempest,
Just as a single leaf drifts groundward amidst the autumn winds--a dull orange dash,
So too does the hyacinth bloom,
So too does magic glisten.
Peace
A mirror in the dark:
shining glass reflecting back
fields . . . of . . . nothing . . .
the wind in a cellar . . .
total calm,
unfathomable, unmoveable, untouchable . . .
a smooth presence . . .
thus is my soul . . . at peace . . . .
The Moon at Night
A blazing lake of gentle radiance
like unto a resting pool--still and clear--
seated 'midst a thousand wild-flowers,
so is the moon at night
'mongst the silent sprinkling starlight:
celestial mirror
the sun's pale sister
clothed only in slowly-silvered c-l-o-u-d-s . . .
so is the moon at night.
The Glass
One careless gesture
--an untoward movement--
irrevocable;
falling ... ... ... shivering into a thousand pieces
and one...chiming sharply and sudden,
each gliding fitfully over the lightly flowered tiles
each resting in a pool of captured light,
glinting a refracted ray of
thoughtless consequence.
El Golpe
Las morales atenidas,
las esperanzas queridas,
las pesadillas soñadas,
se han muerto todas toquidas:
¿qué llenará el lugar
vacío de almas gastadas
donde tenga que pasar?
For Anger Swells
For anger swells inside a heart
just like the ocean tide in greeting rises
toward relentless storms and wintry winds
or when a thickening assembly turned
mad by a single speaker's rasping tongue
catches up firebrands, hefting stones: a sudden
mob threatening both evils and destructions,
just so does rage arise inside a heart:
a burnt tide sweeps the chambers unawares
wilting the greening plains of scalded soul
from end to smoking end with bitter poisons.
Avia
Yet desolate just like the arctic tundra
where frozen snow drifts, drives across the land
at evenfall when all the light expires,
as bare and lifeless as Saharan seas
of sand at noontide burned and scoured and scattered
by sterile flames that roll from Sun's pale disc
then strip the colors out of everything:
so sorrowful the soul who wanders pathless
across the fallen day and washed out night.
Meditations on Life
I think the point of life is experience..."pathos" if you will. We live in order to feel, to know, to be. There's a Celtic belief that since God is unity and perfection, we cannot (re)join with Him (Her, in this world-view, I think) until we, too, are perfect. And we will not be perfect until we have experienced all there is to experience. So they believe in a limited reincarnation, and life is the process by which we acquaint ourselves with creation and perfect ourselves in effort to reach God and rejoin with Him/Her. I think there is some truth in that. I wonder also if maybe our lives are Purgatory. There's Hell below and Heaven above, so it might break the trinity for there to be a Purgatory to the side AND our material lives...so maybe we are living Purgatory now. Maybe not. But fundamentally, I believe the purpose of life is to experience, and ultimately, to see with open eyes the grandeur that underlies the world, the elegant beauty of its contructions and all of its creation. Life is for appreciating beauty and for loving and for being happy, and these are not contradictory because once one reaches the level of understanding that we are meant to achieve, they become the same thing, all unified in purpose and experience. We see the form of beauty and the form of happiness and the form of love and perhaps even the form of understanding, and we see that they are one, and they are omnipresent. And maybe that's God, or as much of God as human perception, even in an elevated state, can achieve. I don't know. But that is why we live: to see this as only we can, to experience it and feel it and participate in it.
Meditations on Life: addendum
Melody: So why do we need experience?
Tyler: Without experience, we are nothing but all the same...bland, dull...no point to our creation. With experience, we fulfill our creation.
M: What were we meant to be?
T: Creatures of understanding. and appreciation. and love. and perhaps a thousand other things. But we cannot accomplish that without experiencing the life we were given.
M: What about wasted lives?
T: They did not experience as they should have: they let the experiences pass them by. To experience something is to take an active part in it, not simply to be present at its happening.
M: Why didn't they take part in it?
T: Free will. Life is a choice, or it would not be life.
M: Is it?
T: It must be. Otherwise, creation is without a point.
M: Or is your whole life--and your soul--shaped by your circumstances?
T: If we are entirely shaped by circumstance, then we are no better off than our computers or a somewhat advanced logic program. And that does not hold. We have an innate ability to think ourselves into different people, to choose not to be or to be what we will, and through the thinking to choose our own course. A creation without free-will is illogical because a completely controlled creation brings no glory to the creator. A hand-puppet that praises the puppeteer is farcical.
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Background by Morion.