Sunday, March 14, 2010

rambling the Ides

Locked out

In the state of nature
Laws are enforced by
necessity, not choice
The Contract plainly reads
"Do what you will --
and see where that gets you."

This is the end of the old moment,
the denouement
before the Flood rushes through

Powerful men in air conditioned rooms,
clean, pristine, sweet smelling air,
sign off on torture with nary a care
Lunching on oysters, cognac and pears,
while young braves are herded to tombs,
too small concrete prisons of terror
freezing water on lungs, crushed bones,
of terror,
Interrogation to honor our nation

Skies part and fall
atoms no longer involved dissolve into space
Thoughts, no longer attach to meaning,
whisper incoherently
Inchoate breeze
Free floating
Sound merely audible impression
Life no longer an obsession
Love? Separation from repression?
Concrete, now watery bits of stone
Swim, surf the waves, feel the moan,
feel the early mourning, each alone,
unconnected, eerily rejected, no goal,
nowhere to go
chaotic heat death of a world
no longer known

Pluto's Wife/ Demeter's Daughter

Persephone, your will is free
Even as your living is in bondage
to forces much older in their power
You are free to reconcile your fractured life
Daughter in Summer's sun
smiling warmly, playing at innocence
with charms long practiced
Mother's Fool
Mother's Lamb
Saved from that horrible man --
Well, joint custody
Ever her beloved child
While it is no secret
Down below you are honored Queen
among tortured souls ever needy of your
attentive care
Far from noblesse oblige, it is your
chosen career, though not chosen by you
Are you told enough:
"You do it proud." or even acknowledged
for the prowess you have willed into existence?
Free Will, not Free Choice
It is learning to make of the whole sad cacophony
discrete instruments of harmony, of divine song
to find, realize, act with
impeccable integrity
as child or Queen
or someone between

Never mock at Eris
Lest Eris mock with you
Hers is a brave dispassion
You haven't got a clue

I look to you Goddess
humbly, with honor, respect
asking no boon
I look to you to see a glimmer
of what you choose to manifest
I wish to hold that aspect in my sight
among the imagery I find informs my art
If I am to follow Art's vision,
May I be superlative
Not boon -- destiny unraveling
within my reflecting eyes

March 14, 2010