Fields of sunflowers
fill the Holy City, where
all things lost are found.
A dream last night.
From the night,
A creature of torchlight
Poised and ethereal
From pose to pose
With disjointed grace
Limbs frozen, contorted
In every-way triangles
Fair, infernal moon
Masked in the guise
Of those black-eyed Erinyes;
Decked in bells,
Clinking at the strike of feet
Punctuating the raucousness of flutes
With the kithara:
Prowling beneath the rhythm,
Twirling melodies through the candleshades
'Ere riseth Dawn,
Leaning upon the wild mountains,
When the vision retreats
Behind the veil, and is gone.
Inspired by "The Bacchae" and the movements of Balinese dance.
Some days you wish you were a vengeful god
Rising from your sorrow, stormy-eyed and
See who I am, you would say. Look how I
Swell at the hardships of my adversaries.
But you are too naked.
Sprung from the earth-
soft as soil worked by worms.
Yet a fantasy is planted there
Seedless though it is.
Sacrificing demons should be a ritual
Beloved, receive thy Crimson Bride:
“Χαίρε, O Nymph, loved by the gods and the Terrible Fates!”
May this sacrifice of roses
Strewn smoking as She approaches
Propitiate sovereign Love and Time,
That our gods will accept this fiery bouquet,
Bestowing their blessings upon ye Lovers:
For the flowers of innocence have passed away, and now
Upon the nuptial altar
Lover and Beloved stand
"Prayers and Musings in the Temple of Fire, No. VI"
Scarlet Maiden, the roses smold'ring
To ashes in your wake
As you draw phoenix-like nearer the altar!
Let fall thy shroud before the mourners, fair Lover,
As the flick'ring lamps unveil the shadows,
And with them: the face of thy Beloved.
"Prayers and Musings in the Temple of Fire, No. IV"
Poplar bells and oracle shells,
The Priestess stokes the fire.
The haze of incense:
Is it You who approaches?
Who alights in our midst,
Embracing the air with breath of myrrh and lilies?
"Prayers and Musings in the Temple of Fire, No. II"
Celestial spectre from heaven descend
With star-lit lantern and guiding eyes
Of night to pierce
The insatiable Abyss
Where sleepless eyes lose all sight,
Where the soul knows not whether it passes the hours
Or whether 'tis the hours plodding stonily by.
"Prayers and Musings in the Temple of Fire, No. III"
Torch-bearing phantom from heaven descend,
And taking the lyre,
Tell us of this wond'rous labyrinth
And the wand'rers therein.
"Prayers and Musings in the Temple of Fire, No. I"
In some lost, moss covered grove, lifeless, she layed…
Then Green Venus tipped her basin, showering
streams of endless water thrashing and splashing
atop her ***** then rushing down her bronzen brae.
Flushed in feminine essence, she opened
her great shell to fill with sumptuous water
‘till it spilled and gushed the ribbed edges over
and onto the soil did Spring’s milk descend.
Drenched and dripping she bursts from dormancy
to embrace her first morning of animation
through misty flurries and fluid gyration
leaving slushy trails of puddles and pollen
and, through dew soaked skies, dawn’s first amber light
Illuminates Spring, fully wakened and alive.