May 2018
__
Alpha
While thunder clapped for an encore,
we put on iron boots
and danced in puddles
that reflected the obsidian
of Raven's crick-craw chorus
between the ripples.
I splashed with rod in hand, and yelled,
"You are the hammer and anvil,
I am the lightning! I am the quickening!"
II
They came from the East.
The ground shook, and cracks spread
from the pounding of their hammer-steps.
Wisakedjaks fled from roosts now pitched askew
by fingers that brushed the tips of pines
with every swing of lumbering limbs.
Lofty mouths inhaled the clouds
and blew out smoke rings on the wind.
III
I charged across the ground—a bolt—towards
the nearest Cyclops.
Like a sparking pinball, I zig-zagged
up the giant's shins,
past his thighs, and higher still,
then struck him in the eye.
And we became one—euphoria!
Omega
The Wisakedjaks repaired their nests,
and have less space in the minds of those
who found a scapegoat for mythologies
preached in smoke-filled rooms
where followers choke on the want to be saved.
Words were curved into a staff
that false Hermes uses to shepherd his flock:
people who pocket gold coins for Charon,
having surrendered the kingdom within—dead, though their bodies continue to pulse with life.
Alpha
While thunder clapped for an encore,
we put on iron boots
and danced in puddles
that reflected the obsidian
of Raven's crick-craw chorus
between the ripples.
I splashed with rod in hand, and yelled,
"You are the hammer and anvil,
I am the lightning! I am the quickening!"
II
They came from the East.
The ground shook, and cracks spread
from the pounding of their hammer-steps.
Wisakedjaks fled from roosts now pitched askew
by fingers that brushed the tips of pines
with every swing of lumbering limbs.
Lofty mouths inhaled the clouds
and blew out smoke rings on the wind.
III
I charged across the ground—a bolt—towards
the nearest Cyclops.
Like a sparking pinball, I zig-zagged
up the giant's shins,
past his thighs, and higher still,
then struck him in the eye.
And we became one—euphoria!
Omega
The Wisakedjaks repaired their nests,
and have less space in the minds of those
who found a scapegoat for mythologies
preached in smoke-filled rooms
where followers choke on the want to be saved.
Words were curved into a staff
that false Hermes uses to shepherd his flock:
people who pocket gold coins for Charon,
having surrendered the kingdom within—dead, though their bodies continue to pulse with life.
March 16, 2013
The version of "Omega" posted above
was written on May 6, 2018
_____
This poem is more than 5 years old.
It involves a mix of reinvented mythology from 4
different cultures (and time periods).
Over the years, I've played around with the poem,
especially with "Omega", including how it shifts
between past and present tense.
Some people are probably more familiar with the
modernized, English classification of the bird
species, Wisakedjak (there are many variations
of its spelling according to tribe): Whiskey Jack.
In some North American-based First Nations
mythology, Wisakedjak is the Creator that caused
a "Great Flood" to cleanse the Earth of a creation
turned rotten. First Nations flood mythology existed
about 12,000 years before flood mythology first
sprang up in ancient Sumeria.
I believe that religions incorporate a regurgitation
of mythology.
Also, I believe that the strongest historical accounts
are a hybrid of fact and mythology, regardless of how much that might go against surface logic.
When historical accounts are comprised of supposed cold, hard facts, who was it who wrote such historical accounts? Why? What were their sources, biases, subjective angles, and perspectives?
In a lot of First Nations mythology, Raven, Coyote,
Turtle, Wisakedjak, etc., are not separate creators,
as they are shapeshifted forms of the same Creator.
Also, in such belief systems, it's understood that
the Creator, in all its different, shapeshifted forms,
is simultaneously singular and plural. That, and
the different forms of the Creator, have caused
problems with the translation and understanding
of First Nations mythology amongst some non
First Nations people.
This post was formatted in a way that won't
cause unintended line breaks when viewed with
a smaller-screened mobile device.
+/-
The version of "Omega" posted above
was written on May 6, 2018
_____
This poem is more than 5 years old.
It involves a mix of reinvented mythology from 4
different cultures (and time periods).
Over the years, I've played around with the poem,
especially with "Omega", including how it shifts
between past and present tense.
Some people are probably more familiar with the
modernized, English classification of the bird
species, Wisakedjak (there are many variations
of its spelling according to tribe): Whiskey Jack.
In some North American-based First Nations
mythology, Wisakedjak is the Creator that caused
a "Great Flood" to cleanse the Earth of a creation
turned rotten. First Nations flood mythology existed
about 12,000 years before flood mythology first
sprang up in ancient Sumeria.
I believe that religions incorporate a regurgitation
of mythology.
Also, I believe that the strongest historical accounts
are a hybrid of fact and mythology, regardless of how much that might go against surface logic.
When historical accounts are comprised of supposed cold, hard facts, who was it who wrote such historical accounts? Why? What were their sources, biases, subjective angles, and perspectives?
In a lot of First Nations mythology, Raven, Coyote,
Turtle, Wisakedjak, etc., are not separate creators,
as they are shapeshifted forms of the same Creator.
Also, in such belief systems, it's understood that
the Creator, in all its different, shapeshifted forms,
is simultaneously singular and plural. That, and
the different forms of the Creator, have caused
problems with the translation and understanding
of First Nations mythology amongst some non
First Nations people.
This post was formatted in a way that won't
cause unintended line breaks when viewed with
a smaller-screened mobile device.
+/-
