There are no shadows in the darkness.
All things merge and they are one.
The whole unity - illusion;
Flick the switch and it is gone.
WinterAutumn winds are dying
As winter rears its head.
Soon the land will sleep again
In the silence of the dead.
The gray sky seems a blanket.
The golden trees now bare;
Their branches reach out to the sky
To grasp the misty air.
Dark browns replace the orange
And grays replace the blue
Soon snow will change this landscape
As the spiral dance holds true
The silence will be welcomed
By a solitary crow.
An eerie song of mystery
That few will ever know.
For winter keeps its secrets,
The ones not hard to hide.
The answer's all around us,
But the question sleeps inside.
Satan's FuryWhen Satan's fury burns in Hell,
And you feel the power swell,
The Darkness flows from within the lake,
All for the cause of Evil's sake.
The time of doom is close at hand,
When Darkness shall rule the land.
Through the Darkness you shall go;
Only where, He shall know.
Although the Darkness has much might,
It must conquer the piercing light!
And when that light has been snuffed out,
You shall hear His demonic shout:
"Blessed is he who has My mark,
For he shall live in the land so dark!
Death to he who is spawn of the light,
For he shall feel My furious might!
In this land so dark and cruel,
All is under Satan's rule.
And then, alas, without the light,
All must perish in eternal night.
NaiadHow can it be
that my heart's now alive?
I had thought it to die
In the shadows I pondered
the course my life followed...
and where it now leads,
I don't know.
As I sit here alone
and your name haunts my mind,
I feel passion...
it burns at my soul.
And I sing out your name
as I long for your touch
and I know with one kiss,
I'll be whole.
PonderingsGray skies slowly darken
As the sunlight fades away.
I sit here alone in the twilight,
Amidst a landscape of gray
Shadows reach out grasping,
The coldness stills the air,
I glance down upon the lake before me
To the reflection at which I stare.
What image is this before me?
Whose eyes burn into mine?
Vague recollections taunt me
Of what I left behind.
Each path that I have chosen
Leads me places I know not where.
Despite my better judgement
I simply do not care.
What roads have I not traveled?
What lessons have I to learn?
As the shadows creep yet closer,
There is so much that I still yearn.
(To be continued?)
The Void WithinIn dark'ning skies the mystery lies,
What wisdom comes this way?
A silent scream can't pierce the night
Where lurking passions lie.
And as the clouds descend on me,
I can not get away.
There's nowhere for me to hide;
Only madness if I try.
The Night Before ChristmasT'was the night before Christmas,
When all though the house
Not a creature was stirring,
... except for me...
The traps were all set
By the chimney with care,
In hopes that "St. Nicholas"
Soon would be there;
The children, so foolish,
Were drugged in their beds,
While I contemplated,
If I'd have their heads;
I sat in my chair,
Alone with my gun,
Reviewing my plans...
Oh, THIS will be fun!
Then from my radar,
There arose such a beep!
I sprang from my chair,
And started to creep.
Away to the window
I flew like a flash,
Tearing open the shutters,
The windows went crash!
The moon, on the breast
Of the new fallen snow,
Gave a luster of midday
To objects below;
When what to my wondering eyes
But a miniature sleigh
And eight smelly reindeer,
With that little old driver
I began to get sick,
I knew in a moment
It must be "St. Nick."
I readied my gun,
With intentions to maim
Then shot each in turn,
As I called them by name:
Die, Prancer and Vixen!
The Old God, Savitrॐ भूर्भुव: स्व: तत्सवितुर्वरेण्यं ।
भर्गो देवस्य धीमहि, धीयो यो न: प्रचोदयात् ।।
The wind blew sand into your nonchalant soul,
and your heart coughed. I entered the circle
at night, and I was consumed by fire. I did not
know of you then. I have fractured myself into
a thousand souls: but they are all whole, for I did
see you in my absence. Yet you? - you
were sailing, and your head was
full of water light.
I was significant when your mother poured out water
in a copper pot from a balcony; water, which
caught and held the moon, and then spilled over
with a quiet radiance. You wondered whether
the moon l
Life is...Sometimes I wonder: what am I?
I look at the stars and feel very small;
just a tiny consciousness.
But if I were as tall as a planet,
I would still be short in comparison to the universe.
I see a person twice my size
and I feel weak and fragile.
But if I were strong and powerful,
I would still not be invincible.
I see a painting by the hand of a genius,
and I feel inexperienced and ignorant.
But if I were the greatest artist alive,
it would not make me love what I do any more or less.
I see blood, running from the wound of another,
and I feel a chilling fear from deep within.
But if I walked this earth with bravery,
it would not make things less dangerous.
I see a baby, innocent and naive,
and I feel cynical and jaded.
But if I saw through untainted eyes all my life,
it would not make the world a better place.
I see a raindrop, tear of the sky,
and I feel ugly and unsightly.
But if I were as beautiful as rain,
it would not make me crystal clear inside.
There are children with cancer,
Woman God, Quiet Suni have become rounder
selfish and sexual in a way that doesn't
women gods dwell in
my solar plexus fire
my chill steady womb
clutch my breasts as theirs
inhabit my blood spread
we spin together
how do i run my fingers through the hair of this
that is mine
how do i teach this
fire chant feather words searing breath
give you my ashen throat
to spit out all you who are in my care and keeping
gives curse and charm
i move shadow and light together
empty of all separation and yet
facing each other
moon blackened sun makes
more than two celestial objects
one quiet fire
shaman i claim
witch seer spaekona
need not see only future but
decked in rings and bangles
Traveler, stand here.
I Have No Names for all My Teacup BabesI feel always like I am starting over.
As a magpie I gather trinkets under my pillow,
bay leaves and bags of herbs to bring the next lover to me,
to call the next dream-face forwarda picture
painted in the tea leaves.
But truth be told the start-again
is never clean, is never gentle,
and the sweat of all that labour
is a fire on my skin, telling me
I will never resist its wind-cry.
The moon comes when I call, to help me;
midwife, she is, and she carries into being my new selves
like the babes they are, teaches them to
fill long footsteps like hers.
Truth be told, I tire of the destiny
I was given onceI am a teacup,
and I cling close to my china womb,
to my cup tipped over, upset
by careless elbows.
I imagine Mother Moon climbing her way back to me
on the backs of pine trees, sweeping across the Appalachians.
Song of Healing
Day to night, dark to light,
Fall the sands of time.
Let the years like the gears
Of a clock unwind
In your mind walk through time
Back to better days.
Memories, like a dream,
Wash your tears away.
Like a star in the sky darkness can't reach you.
Light the night, joy is light 'til the new dawn.
Cast away your old face
Full of gloom and spite.
With this mask I will ask
To borrow your light.
This in Our Hearts
Faith is not to be governed
by the vile will of you humans.
It is the very pulse of your soul.
The very core of the morality
that drives you.
Like you, it may be tainted & controlled
but only by your given gift of free will
can this take place.
Like light, it holds the power to
guide and to free, just as it holds
The potential to fade away into the darkness.
Like a parasite, can it consume you
but only by the filthy hands
of invited demons.
Faith is both gift & privilege
accepted into heart & mind
by the words of a truthful tongue.
In days to come, shall you hear
the drums of war over & around
The plains of existence, and faith shall be tested.
Hold fast for the Way of God
and not only his Holy Word.
Ever tainted by corrupt men.
Roads shall lead on and mislead
To a great many stories
But faith will move you, should you let it.
Faith is this in our hearts and souls...
Faith is the Road which leads to home...
Faith is the governing force of morality...
Faith was the motivation of these w
The Devout, The Divine, The Deceased
Three are they,
Of Heavenly origin.
Governed by the Highest Throne,
and led by the Horsemen.
Devout are the Grim Trinity.
As death has never ceased
So true to the cause are they...
By cursed and divine blades.
The Patrons of the Deceased and Dying...
and of those related to the involved.
Divine by right is the Angel...
Unholy by cause is the Demon...
Leader by title is the Nephilim.
By them are taken souls guided,
Through them are souls
released or enslaved.
Reasons for the Weekend
Because human nature zig-zagged in reverse
from wand-waving mornings to night,
plucking on harp-strings with bitten-down nails
and mud-trudging through kitchen floors,
Because we ignored the blue neon signs
that smiled Enter through the gates,
and monkeyed up the glass walls instead,
with the grace of a bullet-filled car,
Love grew a shadow, and splashed Friday with ink
when he dived from a springboard of leather and wood--
but the spectators gave him nil out of ten,
though Perfection had wrapped him in white.
Because human nature keeps sliding down driveways
without elbow guards or mothering smiles,
because we attempt to feel more than our skins can,
stuffing ourselves with reflections of stars--
Sunday grew taller, for Love re-emerged
and de-plugged the pool as he skipped up the side.
His tattered grey scarf soaked the last of the flood,
and he left it behind as he walked past the sky.