I yearn to forget
these strokes of ancient paintings,
that decorate my soul
with the triumphs of
unidentified feelings.

The carefully carved muse
that once lived in my mind;
now drips in reverie, one by one,
as silence takes over its reign.

The Eye of Odin ,
drinking of the well .
Sacrifice material for
the spiritual ,
life path number
seven .
☆
Disembodied voice ,
now calling to Bastet .
Crow lands in front of him ,
and a cat leads a pack of dogs .
☆
The Corridor of Meaning ,
a seven pointed star ,
Hamsa and divinity
and keeping to the
way .
☆
The mystery of Pi
and the Sea of Tranquillity .
Two kingdoms become one
under a blood red moon .

The Queen of Wands
and a black cat at sunrise .
Four cups in the air ,
a giant hand in the sky .
☆
Hathor , Isis and
how the Holy Spirit
as the Winged Goddess
sends a ****** of crows .
☆
For all vengeance dwells
with the creator of
numbers .
Spirit drifts on the wind ,
hallowed by His name .
☆
While at their
filthy ritual of earthbound violence ,
four holes in the ground
and nightmare fills their void .
☆
Turn away , turn away ,
do not watch His work ,
Jehovah is my god ,
Jesus Michael and His sword .

Red, red rose—  
not for sure  
from this ancient Earth.  
Yet it seems so close  
to the eyes, to the heart;  
then there's the thorn—  
you can't touch!

Not sure what  
the nightingale sang,  
yet a heady fragrance  
seems to whisper:  
"Heart, eyes, hands—  
whatever you feel, say freely;  
mine are yours,  
I wish you could see!"

Over in Israel once visiting the holy sites
One morning I took off on my own for a wee wander in the desert
I hadn't been walking long
When I came across this thing sticking out of the ground
It was a kind of strange looking dial with ancient markings on it
I thought to myself this could be a real find
I might get some money out of this...
I started nudging at it with the toe of my boot
But then suddenly I hear this little voice "Go on, pick it up"
So I turn around expecting to see someone there
But there's no one, no one there
Well that's odd I think. So I start nudging at it again with my boot
And then I hear the same little voice again"Go on, pick it up"
I look around and there's no one there only some rocks, the sand and... and this, this prickly looking desert Bush,
I look at the Bush a bit suspiciously and I say rather amusingly not expecting an answer
"Are you talking to me... you talking to me ?"
Well I tell you, Jaysus I nearly jumped out of my boots when the Bush it snaps back at me rather curtly "Well who the hell else would I be talking to, you're the only one here aren't you!!!
A Bush with an attitude I thought, I bet Moses never had to put up with that
Then I thought to myself 'this isn't the kind of Bush you meet every day'.
So I bent down and picked it up, the strange dial
'What is it ?" I asked
"It's a magical time piece" the Bush replied, "it's like the remote control device you use for your TV
It has 3 buttons, a Pause button in the middle, a Rewind and a Forward button
But instead of controlling a TV, it controls Time itself"
"Yeah!" I said a little disbelievingly
When you press the Pause button Time stops and the whole world stops
If you press the Forward button you can go into the future
The Rewind brings you back into your recent past".
'You're not serious', I said.
"So", the Bush continued, "if you're in a queue, say in a restaurant, you can press the Pause button and then you can go right up to the top of the queue and get your dinner and you can sit down and eat it in peace with no noise or distractions, time will have stopped for everyone else
No one will see you, it's like you're the Invisible Man. You can go up and down your whole world just like that".
'And I suppose' I say, 'if I ever need some money I can just nip into a shop and take it out of the till, or go into a Bank..'
The Bush cuts me off here suddenly saying "No! You can't steal/take other people's money
Instead you just go into the future, there you can get all the winning horses and winning Lotto numbers and bring all that knowledge back into the present".
And what's the Past button for?' I asked
"If you have good happy experiences you can go back and relive them over and over".
'That sounds great', I replied. I thought he would have made a great salesman this Bush.
"But why me", I asked kind of conscientiously, "why should I be so lucky",  
"Well you found it", said the Bush, "and I can't use it, I'm only a Bush".
Then he went on "But be careful to keep it a secret, others will suddenly start getting curious and start asking questions
They'll want to know why you're so lucky and successful and where all your money is coming from
Even if you take a wife, she too will probably eventually start asking questions, trying to discover your secret. But remember always keep your finger to your lips, like a Sphinx never reveal to them your secret".
Then the Bush said "I've got to go now".
"You've got to go", I said a bit sadly (I was getting kind of fond of this Bush),"but you're a Bush"
Then he starts burning, becoming engulfed in flames.
"Are you alright!" I said, a bit concerned
Then he says finally "Enjoy your new toy, have a great time !
And he was gone.  And I was alone again.

I don't have any photos of when I was young
because they look like Chronos holding a gun
I just need slow-mo or time totally undone
or maybe I just need to hold onto someone
because I can't hold on to the before
after bombing all my bridges with C4
so now I walk on the sea floor
wishing I could see more

but all I see is myself as an aquatic gorilla
after spending too much time with Poseidon
precariously between Charybdis and Scylla
as pictures make me look more like Joe Biden
while I feel like I'm the one with the trident
but I'm just Janus' migrant
and that guy is a tyrant
because no matter which way he's facing
he can always find someone to replace me.

So I don't ever take pictures
because they give time a fixture
from which to taunt me like a trickster
showing me the different colors in the mixture
like a lowkey Loki
giving me the okie-dokie
luring me into moseying moping
leisurely leading to rope-a-doping
a mirror-morphed bizarro-me dope fiend
wanting to stay in a Kumbhakarna dope dream.

Time is a sausage link
clogging the gothic sink
of a drain we all would think
seems as fast as goblin's wink
so I try to focus on the myopic pink
but always end up finding reasons to drink
the ambrosia of a nova from Krakatoa
the ebbs and flows come and go with intensity
brought by the power of Jehovah
as well as two cameras with which I can see.

Love is a thousand women who fail to amount to one,
Peasant seductress with bared shoulders of red dun-colored roads and candle smoke,
Who pours down her wet, ungoverned hair, like a fast-fading storm to dry over Aurelian walls,
In that dark sneer of sultriness over the sentry-like stillness of ramparts and stone,
A wasp in water whose sibilance comes from what the sting makes,
Like the upgathered phalanx of spears in the sand,
Or the sisters of fate who have coiled their hair as sunset snakes,
Her fingertips ***** into me like much-traveled and ancient rain.

Sings a small boy whose hair is tousled by the wind,
As too the folds of his mother’s peplos and the robes of clouds,
When Greece gathers in silence like the stillness for a deposed crown,
And all Athens around, the song of eiresione for firstfruits of Autumn,
Singing boys with the olive branches of colored wool and garlanded gourds,
A fall-bird to wander the Ionic sky, foretelling of new sunrise.
How that joyful ancient voice still haunts the songbird of sunset.