Sidhe. is an old Celtic word for a kind
of fairy land.
It is often called the Thin Place.It is a place
where Bards and Hero`s hang out as well as
the occasional Deity.
The Poems here were amoung my first.
"Sisters" was written in 85.
.
The sisters.
There were two sisters Jill and Jane,
Who swore when grown would nere fain,
To marry and so always be,
Un- wed by man and thereby free.
Then when the gender war began,
Too fight for rights both quickly ran,
But as the learned to rise above,
They both forgot abouy true love.
The wounds they suffered were not plain,
As both of them denied their pain,
But softness of their hearts was gone,
All eyes as hard as brittle bone.
While Jill recovered Jane would not,
For all she cared all men should rot.
So Jill spoke up to Jane and said.
"Recover love afore your dead".
Poor Jane refused her sisteres plea,
Her eyes were gone she could not see.
So while her sister babies bore.
Poor Jane stayed barren from the war.
----------------------------------------
RESERECTION.
He that was and was not so,
Was planted in the ground to grow,
Was poured with water, mixed with wine,
Nailed with arrows true and fine.
Forced to lie across the Styx,
Multiplying three with six.
He that was and was not so,
Trades with Hades deep below.
Scaling down the sharp decline,
Fossle hearted, while childish whine,
Eco`s through the long divine.
Endless reverb. Just because,
Its the same as it ever was.
He that was and was not so,
Is missted, still, in the meadow.
Where the mother will approach,
Tender touch, to teach ,to coach,
Offering unplumbed ecstacy,
Without bass sexuality.
He that was and was not so,
Is bared to busoms sacred show.
He that was the mouth to teeth,
Overwhelmed from underneath.
Pluck the laurels for his wreath.
Reserected. Just because.
Its the same as it ever was.
He that was and was not so,
Reaped like barly.While the crow
Pecks the stubble in the heat,
Feasting on the gobs of meat.
Pulls with tallons on the tounge,
Sacred texture for the young.
He that is and will be so,
Like the sun to rise aglow,
Treads the measures mile on mile,
Answers riddles from the Nile,
By his blood we are beguiled.
Venerated !!
Just !!
Because!!
Its the same as ever it was.
THE SHAMAN.
I pull my eyes from out the earth, uncurl from a fetal position.
To sing my song of a loamy birth, cry counterpoint to ullulation.
With my skin I make the drum to beat with my thigh bone,
Rattle snakes are on my feet, widdershins to keep the beat,
In and out the fires heat, eating of forbidden meat,
Face to face with death I greet the great unknown.
The worm thats eaten by the bird, plants it seed within the turd.
The body buried in the mound, flowers , grows untill unbound
It sallies forth to start anew, Endless cycles, old debut.
Master of the metaphore, guardian of the little death,
Key to Axis Mundi door, posseser of the final breath.
With my dung I make the mask to paint with sacred blood.
A face from which men will hide.The face of men, who have died
The mouth of truth that has lied, demonic eyes full open wide.
Face to face with death I tried to stem the flood.
To save the mortals of the earth by eating of the afterbirth.
Change the rythem,
Up the cadance.
Welcome Ester, enter maydance.
Round the pole to part anew,
Silk ribbon thighs plated through.
So womens skirts and beads I wear,
With magic feathers in my hair
To dance the dance that brings relese
From terror times to planes of peace.
With my teeth I make the rattle to seek the shades of death.
Click Click sticks and shaken gourds shrill the whistle scream the word
Paint the navel kill the birds shake the bones and spill the curds,
Face to face with death I heard Her awfull breath.
Virgin Mother and Old Crone can melt the flesh right of the bone.
Can make you rise fresh flesh again.Endless pleasure. Perpetual pain.
Gifting madness to the few. Changing ancient to the new.
I wear my head inside out to backward step and fate to flout.
With my eyes I cast the orbs to gain tomorrows sight.
I look beyond the darkest shade, beseeching spirits for their aid,
To lead us from this lifes charade to give us strenght when were afraid.
Face to face with deaths cruel blade I breath the night.
And grow swell bellied in the wind to pay the price of those who sinned
For Im the piper and the tune. Ancient sage and man of lune.
Carver of thr mystics rune. He that was and will be soon.
With Hyenas I do bark and from the Vultures I arise.
Tearing tendons in the dark with gory beak and bloodshot eyes.
With flakes of sweat I cast the spell to trick the rain Monsoon.
Dance and suffer this abuse set upon us by the muse
All to gain and all to lose rutting in the primal ooze,
Face to face with death transfuse the wounded moon.
Warp the rythem over style, pause the meter then with guile
Brew the potions from the dew, chew the herbs of life.Renew
And lie besides the banks of Leath, the river of forgetfullness,
Then drink the wind from of the heath,rewarded by the Goddess.
All the shrinkage in the arts both sacred and profane,
Remembering lost innocents, the pleasures and the pain.
BLUE RINCE DIP.
IT STARTED OUT SLOWLY WHEN MOTHER GOT SAVED
THAT VERY SOON AFTER, BLUE DYES SHE DID CRAVE
ID FIND HER EACH MORNING WITH HER HEAD IN THE SINK,
AND THE NEIGHBORS COMPLANING BOUT PEROXIDE STINK
AS THE FLUSH PASSED HER ROOTS IT WENT DOWN TO HER BRAIN.
I RELISED MY OLD MOTHER WAS GOING INSANE.
I CALLED UP THE DOCTOR BUT HE WASNT IN.
HE WAS UP AT THE VICARAGE PRACTICING SIN.
I TRIDE TO REFORM HER,O LORD HOW I TRIDE.
I ARGUED THAT MORE THAN HER HEAD WOULD BE DYED.
SHE ARGUED THAT I WAS AN AGENT OF SATAN,
AND MADE WEIRD SIGNS WITH HER BLUE RINCE BASIN.
SHE INSISTED THAT WOMEN HAVE MORE RIBS THAN MAN.
AND JESUS WOULD COME IN HIS CHARIOT AGAIN.
SHE BELEVED IN IMMACULATE MARY(THE VIRGIN)
AND READING THE MEANING IN THE BIBLES MARGIN
I TOLD HER TO STOP,PLEADING"JUST TRY TO SAY NO"
I WARNED HER OF BRAIN DEATH, BUT SHE SAID IT WERNT SO.
I POINTED OUT CRUELY WHAT HER FATE WAS TO BE.
DOOMED TO SHOUT OUT HOSANNAS ON CHRISTIAN T.V.
I POINTED TO MASSES OF BLUE HAIRED FANATICS .
WHO STUDY THE HEAVANLY BLUEPRINT SCEMATICS
I SHOWED HOW THEY WORSHIP THE SWAGARTS AND BAKERS.
AND SEND HARD EARNED PENSIONS TO SHAKERS AND FAKERS.
I QUOTED THE BIBLE I PULLED OUT THE SCRIPTURE
I TRIDE TO TEACH HER BY PAINTING A PICTURE.
WE FOUGHT ALLMOST DAYLY FOR WEEK AFTER WEEK.
AND VERY SOON AFTER OUR ROW REACHED ITS PEAK.
AS THE TRUTH MADE HER TREMBLE, TO SHAKE AND TO QUAKE.
FOR THE WIT OF MY WISDOM SHE COULD NOT MISTAKE.
SHE PROMICED TO QUIT WITH THE BLUES AND TO THINK.
THEN SHE RUSHED TO THE BATHROOM.
TO DYE HER HEAD PINK !!
