Heaven and Earth

Heaven and Earth

 

Radiant on his throne of golden light,

eyes cast down upon the Earth far below

nothing concealed from his blazing sight,

his beauty cast within fire’s warm glow,

from his gilded sphere sweet music will flow,

he rules the kingdom of the higher mind,

from dawns fingers the intellect will grow,

hidden wisdom he inspires man to find,

a blaze of his lips awakens delight

in a kiss of flame burning pure and bright.

 

Two bound souls locked in an eternal fight,

arrow of fire match the silver bow,

cast in darkness shedding ethereal light

and imperfections without mercy show,

his illumination suffers the blow,

to what the light hides darkness is not blind,

upon the owl’s wing her justice takes flight,

their hearts and souls with fate ever entwined,

now her crescent ascends into the night,

luminescent in her gown flowing white.

 

The guardian of woman’s scared rite,

with the taste of vengeance her eyes aglow

and her fury inspires soulful fright,

at her hand death promised will not come slow,

still from her emerges a tender flow,

to the old groves she weaves her scared bind,

among Hawthorne blossoms love can ignite,

a glimpse may be spared for the golden Hind

and the laughter heard of the dancing sprite

in her own garden of Earthly delight.

Lord Shiva

Lord Shiva

World destroyer
you dance
the sacred bones
ash faced
and moon eyed

Your secret smile
knows the truth
rendered blind
to others

Understanding
beyond limitations
from this is gained
the serenity of
destruction

From his own
annihilating
forces
creation is allowed
to spring from
life’s pure well

Fear not he
who shakes
the earth
beneath our feet

Come before
his feet
and be blessed
by the lord
of the sacred
dance

It is the
dance of life
only in death
comes renewed
growth

One world dies
another springs
forth
the balance
which must be
maintained

For only through
coldness
is the warmth felt
he welcomes
as he repels

Medusa in Contemporary

My modern interpitation of Medusa, the backdrop is meant to link her into her traditional roots

Double-Sided Hapi

Hapi is an Egyptian god of the Nile characterized as having the parts of both a man and a woman and ruling over a harem which consists of gods and goddeses. This poem is meant to capture the duel aspect of Hapi, as well as the duel nature of the river known for its extremes between flooding and ebbing.

 

Double-Sided Hapi

 

Woman’s fertile waters

preserves life in sweet nourishment

as she impregnates rivers flow

before it recedes into desert sands

awaiting for the floods to emerge

that drown out the dry spell of dust

and allow life once more to thrive

she preserves us.

To My Mother

To My Mother

Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,
The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of “Mother,”
Therefore by that dear name I long have called you -
You who are more than mother unto me,
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you
In setting my Virginia’s spirit free.
My mother – my own mother, who died early,
Was but the mother of myself; but you
Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,
And thus are dearer than the mother I knew
By that infinity with which my wife
Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.

~ Poe

The Story of the Siren by E.M Forster

E.M Forster is a very talented, unique, and interesting writing, within his collection of short stories, The Eternal Moment and other stories, many of his stories draw from the Eastern influence, as he spent time in India and was greatly inspired by it, and questions the Western/Christan ideals. He challenges conventional religion within his works which speak strongly of the Eastern/Hindu approach of spirituality.

The Story of the Siren is a marvelous story that is truly moving, and a remarkable work. It draws from the Greek myth in a very individual and unique way setting the story within a modern setting and challenges the ideas of Christianity, as well as the state of the human condition and society that would dare to forget the spark of the ancient and dare to classify these things as being wicked. He draws out the hypocrisy of the Christan morality.

The story will echo through the mind and soul in the way of the siren’s song, it is enlightening and provoking and speaks to the soul, without giving clear and precise conclusions or answers, but leaving only questions for the reader to ponder over.

 

Annabel Lee

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

~ Edgar Allan Poe

Sirens Call

The Siren by Waterhouse

Sirens Call

 

Softly

her voice rose up

across the boundless sea

bewitching be the sirens tune

she sings

 

Ships crash

against the rocks

driven by enchantment

seeking the sea maiden’s beauty

ever to be

denied

Viking Burial

I think this is a great illustration of a Viking burial by Sir John Everett Millais

The Early Morning

The moon on the one hand, the dawn on the other:
The moon is my sister, the dawn is my brother.
The moon on my left and the dawn on my right.
My brother, good morning: my sister, good night.

~Hilaire Belloc