Thè Rose breasted the foamy sea,
a hand came dripping from the waves,
'twas watery death, Queen Witch herself!
Sand clotted song pushed
through her ribs.

Chorus
A nova made her blackness sigh,
She was soaking in the brine...
Sing, ancient Witch, on your crack'd shell,
Sing and wash your skin so fine.

Rose as scepter, dark and fearsome,
stars to light death's luminous blade
curved to catch the careless kelp
to be placed before the Witch.

Chorus

The Queen laughs at all her ribs
that have been broken by her music,
She selects one for a rotting sailor.
Placing it in Adam's ribcage,
She waves her scepter, HE'S ALIVE!

But in the process the wounded Rose breaks,
sending cracks up her hand and arm!
When, at last, it breaks her heart,
she falls apart into the sand.

Chorus


[Bridge
By her husband she will lie
A pile to fill an hour glass
For it was meet that she should die,
for then they will embrace at last


SoulSurvivor
aka Write of Passage
and Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis

Sawgrass roots in sand.
It moves like
the waves on
the sea

ii
Blue/grey and silver crystals
adorn the waves
They move like the dancers
in the harem
of Neptune.

iii
Winking at us
as we sit on the verge
of swaying grass
at high tide. The chill of autumn.

iv
The voice of blowing sand
singing low and of sylph sirens.

The waves clap.


SoulSurvivor
aka Write of Passage
aka Invisible inc

Catherine Ĵarvis

There's a star gone Nova
Blazing in its death
Somewhere there's a baby
Taking her first breath

There's a tree that's
been felled
By a lightning bolt
It's burning
There's a man
Who loves a lass
Weeping for his yearning

There is a mountain rising up
Beneath the ocean's depths
There's a promise
That was made
Which was never kept

There's a storm
That's moving in
To quench a Raging Fire
There's woman who is old
Burning with desire

However viewed, the universe
Under Nature's Veil
Is very like your own true face
However wan and pale

The Parables, the metaphors
The things that poets speak
Are in the moon and sun and stars
We have only to seek

When our sun goes Nova
When all mountains fall
We will, at last, perceive our God

The Ruler of us all.



SøułSurvivør

She rolled onto the stage
In spandex laced with studs
Electric guitars squealing
The same ol' worn out crud.

The drumbeats and the bongos
That thudding telltale beat
She knew she wasn't nothin'
But a screamin' piece of meat.

[Chorus]
The Music Man got holda her
Gripped her wild mane
With dreams of mansions on the hill
Dreams of wealth & fame.

There's so much more insida me!
So much more to art!
Got a Stratocaster body
And a plain ol' mandolin heart.


Then the music changed around
To a funky Kind of Blue
Her bassist & guitar men
Sported their tattoos.

She did not start out this way
No, she started small
In a little bluegrass band
Sayin' "come on back, y'all..."

[Chorus]

At the backstage party
She showed up but didn't stay
She was all smiles & wiles
Then just faded away.

She got in her Maserati
She left all alone
She said goodbye to no one...
She turned her wheels toward Home.

Bridge:
She wanted to get lost in it
Forget her humble start
But the Hollywood music machines
Only tear apart
Now she longed for MORE than meals
Eaten a la carte
She broke the Stratocaster
Played her plain ol' mandolin heart.


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage

An autobiography in prose and poetry
by Catherine Jarvis aka invisible ink

This is not a peaceful, easy read
A bedtime story soft and mild
It rends the breast and makes it bleed
Brings savagery out of a child.

Who is this woman, you may ask.
This changeling growing up unseen
She drank out of a drugg'd flask
Who, from breast of poison, weaned.

The paper ochre, the ink blood red
It vanishes in the brown and yellow
A bloodbath which is blank instead
It could nev'r be mild or mellow.

Growing wild, Wednesday's child
Her veins flow arsenic and lace
Web of tattoos artwork styled
Growing weirdly on her face

Now she has small wings of gold
Rusted silver, which is odd
Jesus' blood now courses bold
Purified by our Great God

Invisible ink
aka Catherine Jarvis

What if I had no control
Of bitterness, I of hatred bold
What I say is cruel and wrong
You and I don't get along.

What if we planted seeds
Of evil... we in hell conceived.
What if I was a serial killer
Uncaptured and spreading terror

What if I was unrestrained
In tongue wicked and untamed
Holding the bit between my teeth
A horse of wrath beyond belief!

Do you think it's weak to hold that in?
The pounding weight of horrid sin?
Please don't pronounce me weak!
All I want is to learn, to seek!

Yes, meekness isn't weakness
The opposite in fact! Ì now seek
Power under great control
Childhood toll I am old..

Lord, give mercy to preserve and save
From the cradle to the grave.