I suppose you could say you looked beautiful,
All coloured in light and music,
But I would ask if it is all justified?
You know, to behold what, ages ago, would have been worshiped.
To try my best to grasp at it all
But to eventually only be grasping at straws.
That cottage burns, at the moment.
Inside it lies those children brought up by lies,
They won't die burning, they've chocked by now, I'm sure.
Unfortunate, yes, but then it wouldn't be sacrifice, would it?
I'm not saying I like it, or wanted it
But what is needed is rarely any of those.
You're right, though, it was all very 'coincidental'
Me being there when it seemed a shadow called, not I,
Cheering on to do another and lead another line.
We all sang together, silently of course, as you were distracted
And even when you weren't there. But we were.
I suppose you could say I looked for you, beautiful or not.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Andromeda
Great Dawn, arise! Bring forth a new age
As hollow men and mountains die
While torrents rage and as idols lie,
To be mindful of the beauty eye.
Friday, February 11, 2011
White Fire with Red Flame
Almost had that millennia died as I passed the half stone. A mountain it stood towering unconquerably, still watching the things yet to come with it's north face. I passed slowly as the singing of the hydra cursed in the wind as it was carried from afar. I had walked both alone and in company for however long the I Am wished it and as though the glass that keeps the skies painting aloof had shattered it began to shower on me. I was haunted by the memories that I can not yet relinquish on that journey. Stars held by steel lances lit the way by part and a chariot of silver carried me the rest. In the house off the black rivers I took shelter for fleeting readiment. There were shadows grown full to become whole in my eyes, ripples from a younger life. Yet they were not alone. In the alcoves and grottoes were beauties under familiar names with fleshly faces. Among them a golem stood strong and harsh, but a gentleness was carried in its eyes. Near when the hands met to signify departure I met a white spark in the causeway-end vault. It's flower was only yet blooming to greet but I was engulfed by the thought of it's soon-to-be scent. It would have me believe it unfurnished and bare, but in such times the truth of truth behind veils are seen, and me, with my gift of inner vision saw so easily. Yet even with my empathy already given I was cast aback when, as it again re-entered my sight, it had become a beauty far more intriguing than the former maids. And a maid it was. For in my swaying thought I first had seen it only as an opportunity to inquire in to, yet then, in that moment, it became more than I would have willingly given. More so, it took from me my reserved pleasure and flung such upon itself as if to be beautiful only for me. And beautiful she was.
Then, as smoke before the fire faded, the time was upon us and we, the spark-to-be-fire, myself and two others were flung away to be the first wave, cast there by the Patriarch. A manor awaited us upon arrival and we were greeted by some few, most of which I did not know. Paintings, portraits, scribbles and mosaics lined the walls and were such perfect memories as the time they were reminiscent of. I, who has never had such proof of my own brief existence, was awed at the love these simple bits of art implied. Something that could so easily be mistaken for vanity only gleamed joy.
I waited and wandered among and around the others there trying hard not to let my looking to be mistaken for interest as it truly was. Others came in gowns of forest lilies, golden leaf, satin suits, glittered bodices and a myriad of other things too numerous to count. And as the procession got underway an earlier promise of revelation, not one of the subject but directed at me, came to true fruition. A professed degree was not intended but I entertained the notion to play a game of 'tease and ask'. Stars exploded all green and red over the bodies of the enchanted few whose ranks I joined in sporadic notions as tribal chants trilled across and off the manor walls. I was lost, on occasion, in my thoughts again as I watched the movements as gradual intoxication became evident. I was discouraged at times to see the red flicker ignore my eyes, although I, too, pretended later to ignore hers. An offering was given when the wine was emptied as one does to a goddess on wish of a fulfilled prayer. To my glee it was accepted and the prayer answered. The questions again flew, some less lengthy than expected. As is a facet of mine I answered in long winds to give a world of response as to leave no other related unknowing.
The night drew on and offerings were gifted to the idol of the reason of being. A song or two were sang as a precursor told by precognition. But, again, the hands of time demanded we make leave. We were two of the last, her and I, as we discussed things we shared; the joys our lives are made of. Although smiles were shot until that time to all around it was then that the flower bloomed so shyly and opened to me. More and more there were less of those around and only us, so as I understood it.
We returned to the hidden retreat and made merry our voices and strings. I was wanting to impart a song from my own hearts chord and I was given such a chance. All laughed as the content do during those moments. Wine flowed free and dried leaves a plenty made homes of our bodies. At one such a time as it was only her and I on the porch, we talked of things I can not place for my mind was thinking of only a single thing. We had cast the leaves aside and spoke gently to one another until I suggested a movement that was not realized until it became. I moved to her with no unnatural speed and placed a much wanted and expedient kiss on her lips. She writhed to my body and I pressed on her to share my warmth and pulsation. It was the feeling I had wanted since the beginning of that millennium. And she, the fire flower, was the one to give it to me. Her touch felt true on my skin and I was pleased that we entangled as we did.
I looked to her for the hourless time that remained. Occasionally, when I smiled to her she would shy to me and raise her shoulders and giggle as a child does when complimented. Of course, this only made me smile wider as a fool. Then a moment when the morn teased the breaking, as I had lulled the few there by the fire to sleep, we hurried to the causeway-end vault, the same in which we met, to stir each other out of reserve. It was in that bright darkness that the spark I had seen before turned to white fire. The bloom that had flowed down her shoulders now illuminated as a brilliant red flame. We rolled happily together for a short eternity and then held one another under quilts of heavy laughter.
The morning broke for me sooner than her. I placed a kiss upon her neck and she moved gently in a sleepy response. It was some time later that she too awoke and we smiled together in remembrance and hope. The others that had shared the room left one by one to leave us be. We spoke more deeply and intimately than before. I told her of how she was and will be and is. At times she recoiled with astonishment, though I hardly think she realized it. My lecture was broken sometimes by our want for one another but I always resumed after. I believe then she was truly taken by me as I was by her. Her eyes told me so, as I hoped mine told her. She rested upon my chest for a while and we laughed and made fun. Although my mind is a prowling wolf, I thought only of her in those moments.
We later rose and made the last few hours together as best we could. For a last time we exited the home and were present in open afternoon air to share the finale in mist. She told me of how, indeed, I had been right of her and of what she once was. A tale was spun only for me about an anchoring moral. I was honoured, as one should be, at the revelation of the 'once-upon-a-time'. Yet she only shrugged and laughed.
As I left to return the journey home we kissed and held each other for the last time with the suggestion of later crosses hanging in the air, though I did not truly think we ever would.
Then, as smoke before the fire faded, the time was upon us and we, the spark-to-be-fire, myself and two others were flung away to be the first wave, cast there by the Patriarch. A manor awaited us upon arrival and we were greeted by some few, most of which I did not know. Paintings, portraits, scribbles and mosaics lined the walls and were such perfect memories as the time they were reminiscent of. I, who has never had such proof of my own brief existence, was awed at the love these simple bits of art implied. Something that could so easily be mistaken for vanity only gleamed joy.
I waited and wandered among and around the others there trying hard not to let my looking to be mistaken for interest as it truly was. Others came in gowns of forest lilies, golden leaf, satin suits, glittered bodices and a myriad of other things too numerous to count. And as the procession got underway an earlier promise of revelation, not one of the subject but directed at me, came to true fruition. A professed degree was not intended but I entertained the notion to play a game of 'tease and ask'. Stars exploded all green and red over the bodies of the enchanted few whose ranks I joined in sporadic notions as tribal chants trilled across and off the manor walls. I was lost, on occasion, in my thoughts again as I watched the movements as gradual intoxication became evident. I was discouraged at times to see the red flicker ignore my eyes, although I, too, pretended later to ignore hers. An offering was given when the wine was emptied as one does to a goddess on wish of a fulfilled prayer. To my glee it was accepted and the prayer answered. The questions again flew, some less lengthy than expected. As is a facet of mine I answered in long winds to give a world of response as to leave no other related unknowing.
The night drew on and offerings were gifted to the idol of the reason of being. A song or two were sang as a precursor told by precognition. But, again, the hands of time demanded we make leave. We were two of the last, her and I, as we discussed things we shared; the joys our lives are made of. Although smiles were shot until that time to all around it was then that the flower bloomed so shyly and opened to me. More and more there were less of those around and only us, so as I understood it.
We returned to the hidden retreat and made merry our voices and strings. I was wanting to impart a song from my own hearts chord and I was given such a chance. All laughed as the content do during those moments. Wine flowed free and dried leaves a plenty made homes of our bodies. At one such a time as it was only her and I on the porch, we talked of things I can not place for my mind was thinking of only a single thing. We had cast the leaves aside and spoke gently to one another until I suggested a movement that was not realized until it became. I moved to her with no unnatural speed and placed a much wanted and expedient kiss on her lips. She writhed to my body and I pressed on her to share my warmth and pulsation. It was the feeling I had wanted since the beginning of that millennium. And she, the fire flower, was the one to give it to me. Her touch felt true on my skin and I was pleased that we entangled as we did.
I looked to her for the hourless time that remained. Occasionally, when I smiled to her she would shy to me and raise her shoulders and giggle as a child does when complimented. Of course, this only made me smile wider as a fool. Then a moment when the morn teased the breaking, as I had lulled the few there by the fire to sleep, we hurried to the causeway-end vault, the same in which we met, to stir each other out of reserve. It was in that bright darkness that the spark I had seen before turned to white fire. The bloom that had flowed down her shoulders now illuminated as a brilliant red flame. We rolled happily together for a short eternity and then held one another under quilts of heavy laughter.
The morning broke for me sooner than her. I placed a kiss upon her neck and she moved gently in a sleepy response. It was some time later that she too awoke and we smiled together in remembrance and hope. The others that had shared the room left one by one to leave us be. We spoke more deeply and intimately than before. I told her of how she was and will be and is. At times she recoiled with astonishment, though I hardly think she realized it. My lecture was broken sometimes by our want for one another but I always resumed after. I believe then she was truly taken by me as I was by her. Her eyes told me so, as I hoped mine told her. She rested upon my chest for a while and we laughed and made fun. Although my mind is a prowling wolf, I thought only of her in those moments.
We later rose and made the last few hours together as best we could. For a last time we exited the home and were present in open afternoon air to share the finale in mist. She told me of how, indeed, I had been right of her and of what she once was. A tale was spun only for me about an anchoring moral. I was honoured, as one should be, at the revelation of the 'once-upon-a-time'. Yet she only shrugged and laughed.
As I left to return the journey home we kissed and held each other for the last time with the suggestion of later crosses hanging in the air, though I did not truly think we ever would.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
