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Filomena Jan 12
My ears point toward the moon.
My nose points toward Polaris.
My tail points toward tracks that extend out of sight and out of memory.

I am alone.
I hear owls and falling snow.
I trek endlessly through wilderness that leads to nowhere.

I hear faint sounds.
I see pale light.
I feel the penetrating cold.

In a great tree I find a long abandoned hole.
Inside I hope to find refuge.
I curl up; breathe; sleep.

I dream of friends I have yet to meet.
In my solitary den.
For B.
Filomena Jan 7
The Master of Chaos sat alone
on top of his almost invisible throne
and looked out into the dark and saw
that nothing could be seen at all

He said to himself, 'I'll make a light,
and put an end to this horrid night.'
as he sat there in his muted fright,
not knowing what was wrong or right

He flicked his finger; a flame flickered and flashed
and formed a faint figure in the infinite abyss
But he looked and saw still nothing at all
the darkness stood an impenetrable wall

Now at this time his anger grew
In place of the terror that he knew
As into the flame he spat and cursed
'How could my lot be any worse?'

A speck of his spittle then sputtered and sparked
And for a short moment a bubble there arced
In midst of that moment the Master thought quick
'To place all my power this point I will pick!'

Now pinpricks of light in the bubble appeared
And at their minuteness the Master then jeered
But one of those pinpricks the Master gave birth
Was an almost invisible one we call Earth

And onto its surface, as if as a joke
Some self-moving somethings to being he spoke
On one race of somethings he blasted his breath
But showed them no notion of darkness or death

Their ignorant bliss would not have long to live
As the Master was happy a dilemma to give
'Ignore your incorrigible longing to know
Or soon into darkness your heart I will throw!'

These somethings could not help their curiousness
And soon brought an end to their innocent bliss
They looked on the Master; in horror recoiled
And from that time forward in terror they toiled

In spite of this, certain determined to show
Their thanks to the place whence creation did flow
'The Master-- He made us. We owe Him our all.'
And so on the name of the Master they call

Now one such, a brother, got gifts from above
In contrast, the other heard nothing of love
In the depths of his being resentfulness grew
And soon into darkness his brother he threw

The boy's broken body returned to the Earth
And then did the living remember their worth
But the Master saw fit to deliver a curse
'For who kills the killer, it's seven times worse!'

But a spark of naivety still wasn't quenched
Even while all the old had their souls from them wrenched
And though many people just followed their will
A few kept their view of a duty to fill

Time passing, the Master elected one man
To shoulder the burden of Life in his hand
'You're special. I choose you. Complete now this task.
Your family will be sole survivers at last'

'Now thus I command thee: construct a great Box
And I'll bring you each beast, from the ant to the ox
The Box will be shelter for two of each kind
In performing this promise leave not one behind!'

The whole population soon started to ask
At the purpose and point of this puzzling task
But finding no answer they started to jeer
Not aware of the fate that was drawing so near

The Box was completed, the Chosen inside
Along with the beasts that had come to reside
And now that the plan had been put all to use
The Master was ready his hatred to loose

The Master broke open the fountains on high
And the wells of the Earth overflowed to the sky
These terrible torrents fast flowing like tears
Erased all the faithless, their hopes and their fears

But the Chosen were safe in the place that He gave
Even while all the others were sent to the grave
The Box remained buoyant for many a week
Till at last the Box landed upon a tall peak

The Master, now sated, declared to them thus:
'I never again shall devour with such lust
To each of all people who call on my Name
I'll lend preservation in spite of their shame'

A new generation now came to arise
That as they grew great grew exceedingly wise
They said to themselves, 'Let us build us a tower
And none shall compare to our glory and power'

The tower they built soon grew stunningly high
As the people then strove to reach even the sky
But the Master grew weary of this hubris of man
And as was His habit, He schemed a new plan

All people till now had had only one speech
That would grant understanding to learn and to teach
Thus people were able to work and create
With clear understanding to cooperate

The Master decided confusion to sow
And quickly construction then started to slow
Words became strange, understanding was gone
And with it ability to all get along

The people were fractured. They couldn't agree
And factions then found it expedient to flee
From then on the people began to spread out
And make their own places to worry about

Now the Master saw fit to commit to a choice
To limit the living who witness His voice
And even the Chosen, of which there were few
To each He provided a separate view

But still in each part He was greatly extolled
And tales of His terrible doings were told
Destruction of cities; Affliction of men
The only beginning; The ultimate end
A misotheistic epic
Filomena Jan 6
I'm a stranger in my own head,
A sojourner embodied.
As I lie here on my old bed,
Impressions flashing oddly.

I'm a stranger to my own needs,
my old provisions moldy.
I'm lost, can hardly proceed,
But must continue boldly.
I've been wrestling with the apparent and intimidating reality that I'm plural in some way.
Filomena May 2024
I wouldn't call myself a poet
But you make me dream like one
You're an angel, but you don't know it
But I know, 'cause you gleam like one

Some people may not seem to notice
But who cares what people say
The ones who really know you know this
And would never push you away

My Goddess gleaming
My tears are streaming
Please tell me that you understand
The fate that weaved us
Must never leave us
Please keep me here in Heaven's hand

Now life's a trail that keeps on going
As we walk it hand in hand
The winds of time are always blowing
On our footprints written in the sand

I know that fate's a current flowing
As we swim it side by side
Never stopping, never slowing
Till we're swallowed by the tide

My Goddess gleaming
My tears are streaming
Please tell me that you understand
The fate that weaved us
Must never leave us
Please keep me here in Heaven's hand

I guess I'd call myself a poet
My pencil proves this power true
But sitting here I'd never know it
'Cause none of my silly rhymes could ever compare to you
For E, My Love
Filomena May 2024
ja kā o Kánóka? ja Kánóka o kā?
ja kei got ba fo nok za tu zon zak de ska?
i sai pen ni je ben ni je tet ni po zbu.
ju na lok ni no tok ni nãu qok ni de tsu.

ju no vol ni so dol ni qo don de so klu.
je qeu tet ni põ fet ni e sol ze e plu.
juja kā nia Kánóka ki vei ni sai blu?
i zon go deu sat qe deu lup qe deu dqu.

Where is Paradise? And Paradise is where?
Can you stand in the land where all colors are fair?
I wonder, I wander, I try to discover,
But I guess I am less than untouchable other.

But I don't like complaining all day without fail,
So I try to enjoy both the head and the tail.
So then, where is my Paradise that I find so fair?
With love, and with friendship and help. It is there.
Original poem in Xextan, translated into English.
Filomena May 2024
I don't understand this.
You don't understand these.
The Cowboy is a city kid.
The City Kid is me.

I was nothing. Now I'm something.
Wish I wasn't. Woe is me.
Why should I be anything?
The pain will set me free.

Blows to the head!
Blows to the head!
Blows to the head!
Blows to the head!

They say it's always getting better,
but it's never good enough.
The window pane is getting wetter.
Dry it off and toughen up.

Blows to the head!
Blows to the head!
Blows to the head!
Blows to the head!

The sun was set, but now it's rising.
Raging fires have fallen low.
But wait till darkness comes reprising,
and blazing flames in flurries flow.

Blows to the head!
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