Queen-Maiden of the Night Emerges from the Between

Queen-Maiden of the Night Emerges from the Between

Betwixt night and day

Betwixt falling and rising

Inflection points of Twisted strands

Somewhere beyond the veils of cycle and storm

   our Jewel-Maiden throws out the first glistening sparkle of light

There on a high hill back in time is the Gael mage reckoning

No one ever knows what waves of pain and pleasure will intersect one today

There is always and often the interface of emotion and being, the wave front

This is the first light of approach, the horizon of clash, a short and sacred instant

The gods can live long in this instant of interface which to us is unstable

Lives of grandiose bliss lost and hidden in a trick of the light

Food anchors the body and so we are locked in our flesh cases

We bound and bounce through the bounds of our finite kingdoms

   chasing the same spectres, hoping and searching for a glimpse of unknown lands

I long for a way, for a path to do what I know I can do

I long for a clan that subdues inertia

I sing love songs to the soul of nature

I long to bask in her awe

But alas it appears that humans have other plans and I struggle

Somewhere in this vast haystack is a needle or two, maybe

What has become of the moonless mages?

The water dragon cycle comes full circle

From the slaying of mother and father dragons hath we come

The struggle to evolve, to adapt to change for survival, consumes us

Habits enslave us, not others

Words pale to the color of pictures and movies and brightly lit neon worlds ensue

Pale monotonies linger neglected in the dusty abandoned basements of the past

Oh how a wish for a bubbly princess of power to summon the sleeping saviors

A nucleus, a center to uphold and hover about bonds erstwhile strangers

Fear is a boundary to intimacy

To be shunned and avoided is not so bad if the feeling is rather mutual

But somewhere in my mind is a vast and hidden wolfpack of great nobility

We wander off alone among strangers

The Ah of Blah

The Ah of Blah

Aye

Flotsam and jetsam in the info sea

The messy world mingles with mind and we flirt with hope and dread

Longing is ever near, but this is the charge, the charge of the word mage

The urge to share is ferociously unstoppable

To dazzle with the clever and the cute, is moot

Tis the ecstasy of the flow that I wish you to know

Fuck product, embrace process

Dance till you die, then dance yet again

Conspire with me oh thee and thee and we three shall be free

Oblique obliteration through the elixir alliteration

Epic fail is my wail as I rage against the onset of age

Wisdom and folly ever entwine

Thunder

What did you worship today?

Society is a tragedy without intimacy

Butt sniffing strangers hover and retreat

Duty ne’er stops calling and nature’s laws prevail

Yet we seek to bypass these and appease the fools who wear us down

The inertia of our structures impedes us and sparks paranoia and suspicion

All I can do is blather on and hope for some miracle of mind-blowing Dialogue

For Dialogue is what is needed. Real dialogue not eloquent elegant splatter

I dare you to dance

Appear and I shall elevate you my friend unseen

Culture numbs with comfort foods and comfort shows and impulse buys

The perennial lure of addiction fits so well with this idle mind culture

Bend bend, bend beyond, bend thoroughly beyond, transcend

Oh how I love beauty and multi-layered harmony and oh how I long to see it everywhere

The loom way of tantra allows this concordant universe of unfettered godliness

So dwell here do I in the mandala palace

One future among many is as good as any

But alas, the contrastless godlessness of unbounded space allows no horizon

Planes and domains, helms and realms, seem to hold us in our places

These are ruled by habit energy, our most prominent lords

For now all I can do is let words leak out

Ode to the Noble Sons and Daughters of the Wolf

Ode to the Noble Sons and Daughters of the Wolf

Honor among thieves, unspoken codes

Castaways with shifty eyes downcast

Foreboding shadows in the distance and the sparkle of eyes

A hard life of seeking flesh to devour

Straggly stragglers all

Cursed and hungry rogues

The cruelty of nature fills my heart with doubt

Yet among the outcastes and scapegoats are those who feign not

The winter is momentarily mild and so the dire swords of ice retreat

The lowland green is fair revealed, so rare at this piece of the wheel

Currents of the elements flow along in their domains and between heaven and earth

Questions and wonderings beset me

What will become of this or that?

Who are these folk I run with?

What will be the fate of the pack?

And how do these packs convene?

Pax. Peace. Peace and Hunger in contradiction.

Death sentences revealed, in capture, in cancer, in old age

We chase food and dreams and rest and death chases us

Death always gets its prey

All we can do is accept whatever appears and be mindful of the moments

   and their passengers as they swing by, hang out, and take off

Bitter resentment mixes with regret, with fear, with rage, with shame and remorse

To know even for a moment the essence of the criminal’s fate is know the gaze of hatred

Shame and regret spark a fire of motivation but this fire can consume the homestead

Best to leave well alone after a while and move on

Festering wounds consume the weakened and bewildered

Tomorrow ever threatens to appear

Duties keep us from other pursuits

But from somewhere appears the manifestation of care and pardon

Acknowledgement of the freedom to be

Let the wise wolf buck up and smile on the world

The wise wolf that watches the world, that followed early man, and lay at his feet

The faithful comrade and watcher

Family and social contact rule and the decision of the tribe is final

There is only the pack, the loose confederation to collaborate for food

Clap for the wolfman brother for he is you in the language of the pack

A day wandering alone scrubbing earth and straddling scum ditches

Life is painful. For some unsane murderers the pain turns to rage and rampage

Tragedy is often the fate of wolves and their prey

The moon adds sight to scent

Scents tell stories and reveal paths to food

This language of animals is a matter of life and death, but too of sex and knowledge

Wolf’s bane and wolf’s gain, all manner of stress and strain

May we all be aware of each moment intimately

   whether that moment be adorned with comfort or utter horror

Be with the quality

Be with the nature of mind