#scythian
She who stands there, he who leads,
Are One to which my praises plead.
I ask of you such great forgiveness,
Your face shines bright, your image livid.
Grey spots upon the Holy Moon,
Form your bust, to it I croon,
I ask again; whisper, pray and plead,
Show me a sign from sacred steed!
I toot my Gudi, crash the Gong,
And cry for Cheon-A-Ma-Chong;
I play my series in metered eights,
in line with movements of the greats.
I plot their paths in sky you see?
Your eight movements,
Eight hooves in cleats!
You breathe out the fire of the Sun,
Head held high at night as one,
The Zodiac your wings as such,
And planets, the hooves, a final touch.
Fires issue from your mouth,
Burn up the sea-water in the south…
Heavenly I hear your roaring,
and the fullness of your glory,
Your starry eyes the flux of sea;
as you swim the depths and round the tree.
Whose skull we hooked once I reminisce,
Terrible creature from the Abyss;
Oh Horse my love, construct of mind,
and she who gallops for all time,
...measures for the heaven’s seat,
Sets placement of all deities,
To you I fall upon my knees,
Hippolytian by decree,
Take me!
-take me to your Cosmic Sea!
Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 1:13 PM UTC
It’s the Eye of the Sun,
-staring down at me…
At night the mind of the Moon,
-so bright it’s all you see…
Seven Glorious Ones, Horus-Follower’s sons,
-and the cycle’s complete; time for a repeat!
Magic year, magic mind, Ozymandias seat,
a magic moment in time, 'ten found-on-the-line,' -mark a place where you'll be.
At the steps are the ones, ancient Kings of the Sun.
Torn apart by the people, when the harvest was done,
And solar barque crosses Styx, to the gates of Ammon…
Riders come from the steppe to see the death of the one,
Ancient King of the Sun redeem the land and the seed…
-Rises up as Orion, again, and now he’s freed!
It’s the Eye of the Sun and the Lion is free, roaming over the lands, now the cycle’s complete…
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 1:59 PM UTC
* *“Mystic readers of the stars,
In Land of Sleeping’s language versed,
Consult the tales, those stories –old.
And tell us, is the maiden sold?”**
* *“Climb the tower, the fire pieces,
Traverse the heavens, assign the path,
Until the maze of tomes thus ceases…
And mystery lost to art of math.”* *
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC