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"bast" poems
I did not believe, standing on the bank of a river which was wide and swift, that I would cross that bridge plaited from thin, fragile reeds fastened with bast. I walked delicately, as a butterfly and heavily as an elephant, I walked surely as a dancer and wavered like a blind man. I did not believe that I would cross that bridge, and now that I am standing on the other side, I do not believe I crossed it.
0
Apr 19, 2022
Apr 19, 2022 at 11:23 AM UTC
peripheral auditory
darkness consumes all the black night swallows our thoughts Vomits back our fears Shadows pollute minds Specters of the past revive They taunt tease and laugh We give in so quick Victims to our own morals destroyed by self doubt Quick to love others so fast to hate ones own self So slow to forgive The mirror whispers The wind curses so sweetly The blade kisses you It tenderly glides Slides against ebony skin Gaping rift remains Scarlet life erupts History of an empire Contained in those veins Osiris Horus Pharaohs Gods ,and rulers.Kings Contained in those veins Isis Hathor Bast Greats queens, protectors, healers Contained in those veins Garden of Eden Cradle of our mother Earth Contained in those veins Newton,King,X,Parks Men and women with Brave Hearts Contained in those veins Swift minds,Diamond tongues hip-hop jazz blues rock, our sound Contained in those veins Firm hands,and strong arms The power to hold the world Contained in those veins A deep rich opus there is his story and hers Contained in those veins Our blood stains the soil Why destroy the tapestry Contained in those veins
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Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
Veins
The moon's virginal silvern lustre drapes over the navy blue curtains There is a sacred power that the moon has, for it is the Left Eye of the goddess, Bast An Eye of Ra, Great Lady of the East, She Who Earned a Crown of the Orisha Her silverfire grants the felines power to turn the simple black cat into a panther at night As black, swift and silent as a raven's wing With eyes as green as a meadow in Spring Stalking the jungle with the darkness as her cloak But with darkness dawns a new and bright light For she is a Orisha with the sun in her heart For she passes the flame into the herb shaped like a heart, swept and burning with violet glow That burns through every vein of yours and then you rise, born again new Consume that flame, eat Her heart and she will meet you in the Ancestral Planes but take great care, as she grants you her presence and power on if you are worthy Under the glimmering borealis Flickers of violet and pink and white becoming moving flames with kisses of blue that stroke the various crests of clouds Lights that dance, ride and raise with   winds of hope and change though the infinite skies Hearing murmurs and voices the wind will blow around you, a changed spirit It is then you will know It is then you will see That Bast is smiling directly at you Come and meet the Panthers who molded the past in order to make sense and build the future Come and meet the Panthers who united the tribes, turning war to peace And now here comes the new King Who knows there is strength in unity For tribes divided can never stand And through learning that he possessed a naively closed mind, scrutinised the words spoken, not the ones who were speaking He was not his father but now with the Mantle passed, he must learn from his father's mistakes Prince T'challa of Wakanda Son of King T'chaka Rise from cub to the Panther on the protective prowl Seen worthy of Bast's blessings carries her Eye that is never blind He will remember all that his eyes have scene from his successes and struggles but also his heart The Heart of a King with the fire in his spirit Sprint o'er the sea towards the horizon The Black Panther who reigns over Wakanda How he stands proudly with a coat of black with his heart rooted and mind conscious of the mistakes of the past, has his eyes of the sunrise which has the world and beyond singing to the Sun, the Moon and Wakanda's sacred tune
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Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 3:58 PM UTC
Eye of Ubasti, Sun of Wakanda
The moon's virginal silvern lustre drapes over the navy blue curtains There is a sacred power that the moon has, for it is the Left Eye of the goddess, Bast An Eye of Ra, Great Lady of the East, She Who Earned a Crown of the Orisha Her silverfire grants the felines power to turn the simple black cat into a panther at night As black, swift and silent as a raven's wing With eyes as green as a meadow in Spring Stalking the jungle with the darkness as her cloak But with darkness dawns a new and bright light For she is a Orisha with the sun in her heart For she passes the flame into the herb shaped like a heart, swept and burning with violet glow That burns through every vein of yours and then you rise, born again new Consume that flame, eat Her heart and she will meet you in the Ancestral Planes but take great care, as she grants you her presence and power on if you are worthy Under the glimmering borealis Flickers of violet and pink and white becoming moving flames with kisses of blue that stroke the various crests of clouds Lights that dance, ride and raise with   winds of hope and change though the infinite skies Hearing murmurs and voices the wind will blow around you, a changed spirit It is then you will know It is then you will see That Bast is smiling directly at you Come and meet the Panthers who molded the past in order to make sense and build the future Come and meet the Panthers who united the tribes, turning war to peace And now here comes the new King Who knows there is strength in unity For tribes divided can never stand And through learning that he possessed a naively closed mind, scrutinised the words spoken, not the ones who were speaking He was not his father but now with the Mantle passed, he must learn from his father's mistakes Prince T'challa of Wakanda Son of King T'chaka Rise from cub to the Panther on the protective prowl Seen worthy of Bast's blessings carries her Eye that is never blind He will remember all that his eyes have scene from his successes and struggles but also his heart The Heart of a King with the fire in his spirit Sprint o'er the sea towards the horizon The Black Panther who reigns over Wakanda How he stands proudly with a coat of black with his heart rooted and mind conscious of the mistakes of the past, has his eyes of the sunrise which has the world and beyond singing to the Sun, the Moon and Wakanda's sacred tune
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80
he ran away from his unborn child,he thought in his mind he was too young to raise a young child,couse he also was a child. All he wanted was to be free,young and wild. As he took two steps back he felt relief,then he believed he could leave,so he left with his believe. Runing away was like runing to jail he knew not. Planing to go in drunkiness and in revery that two he knew not. The mind kept spreading more lies to the morning bread he eated,he was just too weak so his heart was defeated.The unborn child forgotten.The weeping girl weeped and whipe hear tears,but his memory remaind,a picture of him that can never be ereased,that each and every thought of the child evoked the unbearable feelings,the bast of fury flames touring her mind,shouts encrepted in the her heart,on the bed twisting n turning,wakin and sleeping but still she found no rest,internaly bleeding,emotional abused by his pictures then she thought thought that abortion might be the solution to the situation that she is in.
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Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 4:41 AM UTC
Unborn child
Deity of wars, Devourer, Defender, Domesticated, yet wild at heart. She cast her light and protection upon the Middle Kingdom and Upper East, Blessing the soil and crops upon which her followers jubilantly feast. Do they dare forsake her? Suppressed ferocity, Longing to break free of that which entombs her. The shrine lies in ruins, yet nine times immortalized. In her eyes that see all, Lay a world lost for so long, Brought back to life by her awakening roaring song. She claws at the sky and rekindles the flame, She slips through the gates of time unscathed and scalds those who fail to do the same. Her eye became The Sun, Her other eye, The Moon. Her blood became The Nile, And she encouraged her children to drink of it, An unswayed symbol of the eternally nubile.
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Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 6:19 PM UTC
Lady Bast
Memories of the North Sea sift in like sand kernels on a fast, frigid tide: events that transpired outside the confines of rhyme, unfolding exactly as they were meant to. Never before had I seen so many shades of gray; the overcast, monochromatic splendor was awe-inspiring, instead of being bleak and bleary. ___ The smell of salt and seaweed awakes something dormant and eternal, deep within me. I have a surging desire to flush stagnancy from my blood— salty blood and water come together in a communion of distant relations and movements. Beside me, a flash of bright red digs in the sand; my child is wearing the only vibrant colour to be seen for many kilometres. The colour matches her enthusiasm and energy, as she moves from one spot to the next like a dancing flame; reflected, a fire glows from my eyes. Unknowingly, I had dressed in the same colours of the sky and sea, blending into the scenery like a chameleon: an illusion thicker than the clouds; an illusion of stone for me to melt and reinvent at the spinning speed of thought. I watch my daughter drink the seascape with a smile of wonder; it's her first time visiting an ocean. With our pants rolled up to the knee, we wade through waves, and collect stones and shells. She knows the chameleon who walks alongside her in the frothy surf. Observing seabirds cover the steep cliffs of the island located further out, in a blanket of black and white feathers, I wonder if people onshore only see a solitary dash of red out here, or if the chameleon is more noticeable than I had thought. 2012 North Sea Remix December 17th, 2012
0
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 4:50 PM UTC
Isle of Bast
Memories of the North Sea sift in like sand kernels on a fast, frigid tide: events that transpired outside the confines of rhyme, unfolding exactly as they were meant to. Never before had I seen so many shades of gray; the overcast, monochromatic splendor was awe-inspiring, instead of being bleak and bleary. ___ The smell of salt and seaweed awakes something dormant and eternal, deep within me. I have a surging desire to flush stagnancy from my blood— salty blood and water come together in a communion of distant relations and movements. Beside me, a flash of bright red digs in the sand; my child is wearing the only vibrant colour to be seen for many kilometres. The colour matches her enthusiasm and energy, as she moves from one spot to the next like a dancing flame; reflected, a fire glows from my eyes. Unknowingly, I had dressed in the same colours of the sky and sea, blending into the scenery like a chameleon: an illusion thicker than the clouds; an illusion of stone for me to melt and reinvent at the spinning speed of thought. I watch my daughter drink the seascape with a smile of wonder; it's her first time visiting an ocean. With our pants rolled up to the knee, we wade through waves, and collect stones and shells. She knows the chameleon who walks alongside her in the frothy surf. Observing seabirds cover the steep cliffs of the island located further out, in a blanket of black and white feathers, I wonder if people onshore only see a solitary dash of red out here, or if the chameleon is more noticeable than I had thought. 2012 North Sea Remix December 17th, 2012
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55
battered and battered with no kind to grind the wooden maiden, set in the waves of Poseidon; shattered and shattered for no rind left behind by rai-den who caves in to get in and raid-in’. clattered and clattered each weatherin’ unkind thunderous raven, with avarice preyed to dine in and have a rice  or some mice, for no Bast left to my aghast. tattered and tattered my witherin' mind, so in the captain’s haven I shivered and laid in, prayed and gave in at last.
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Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 10:59 AM UTC
#2
Rose quartz gathered in the palm of her warm hand, breathing deeply, constant-thought pushing around through the insides of her skull as she surrenders to love– From her neck she has worn amethyst for a long time, wanting to protect her from the world– Change is blowing through the trees around her home, swaying to the beat-box of Autumn’s chill, reminding her to always smile– As she nestles under covers, Bast sneaks in through the window and places her paw against her forehead, the temple of the Other world awaits, my dear–
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Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
Untitled
Once upon a time in a far away land there was a girl with a golden hand. She lived to dream and dreamed to live, and once she loved she loved to give. Her perfect face had silver eyes. Those silver orbs held golden lies. Her platinum hair cascaded down, a nimbus of light, seraphim's crown. Enchanted looks, by angels blessed with skin of ivory, ocean's crest. Body like the Goddess Bast, catlike grace with snakelike past. Elegant hands wove magic light, spinning threads throughout the night. She wrapped the world within her web, controlling tides, the flow and ebb. Seductress, warrioress, lovely queen, she's breathless beauty, strength unseen. Once upon a time in a far away land there was a girl, with a golden hand.....
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Jun 28, 2010
Jun 28, 2010 at 3:06 PM UTC
Enchantress
after the cigarettes and dry wit; the gin beams a proton of ominous raptures. the serene hells swelter. the pelt of a gnat for winter. and you get no warning. You'd think we think we have the Isis in the Bast, but she slips the fresh net like a ravishing dream. or the one you forget.
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Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
Cantilever For A Ghost
he, my man, my atlas holds up my world with all encompassing love he, my boy, my hermes his smile brings messages of love from the lips of heaven me, all creative curves and fertility... goddess of hearth and home hestia, in modern form, i be he, little blucat .. bast all compacted and wrinkly a reminder....of fidelity then out the back in a temple her own mother god now become crone but ever loved and worshiped here at #259 we reside almost gods yet biding the devil's own time
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Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 7:55 AM UTC
a house of almost gods
pull the plug on me before i switch off the breaker. perturbed you glance as condolences roll off my lips and fine sherry slips past them. nothing was meant to be rosy and in the black of our feelings, the devil moves in me as you are meant to. the circuit in my halo is calling ******** and bast is laughing, coughing ugly colours from her lungs. puce must be our hamartia and when it dribbles down my face i make leaf piles out of the skin cells and ugly rivers, and you take breathing for granted. but you don't give up that easily, and when i'm filling my bathtub with wine you're there to lap it up.
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Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
keep the things you forgot
The other day I recognised Anubis walking down the street smoking cannabis, soon joined by his good friend Thoth who was strangely disguised as a moth. The jackal headed one fell into crisis and cried out for his mother Isis, who, puzzled, said she didn't get this and called for her sister Nepthys. But this was beyond even her art so they summoned their cousin Maat, She said only one could conspire this blame must lay with the Lord Osiris. Then up popped the hawkish Horus to join his voice to the growing chorus, followed in shadows by his brother Set who hadn't a clue what was happening yet. An angry Osiris appears with lips a'froth denying he transformed Thoth into a moth, this magic only one deity has mastered so you can blame that ****** cat Bast.. Pagan Paul (02/10/23)
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Oct 16, 2023
Oct 16, 2023 at 10:17 AM UTC
Even Egyptian Deities Blame The Cat
Sit down, an buckle that belt Take a ride on the moon sand and magic felt, yow! I'll bet your feeling wild and free like a dear pelt Dat be true but yo some moe gold for me to smelt , cool! Yeee, this is called a real sick one , Don't fight back or ima gonna flick one ,, slang! Just like that I'm gonna turn back and attack Gonna roll with my rap and Neva look back I'm cool, and the bast rep per to ever exist I **** all other rappers Fight me
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Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 9:51 AM UTC
A real sick one
the demidiety of the household, demands the sun.... he craves for to bask in glorious heat.... and have, the world adore.... his corrugated, gargoyled  blue-grey skinned beauty. as well it should... he is.... after all....a rex.... of the mau, bast, line. and me, his  loyal human factotum.... i am here to....            open the blinds...
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May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 7:33 PM UTC
the god of fur and wrinkly skin
This ebony sky, is Nut so sad? Angry at Ra perhaps. Bidding him to Duat. To suffer the whims of Apophis What hymn soothes her. Wherein she would bade him to return. Tis it the song of the seas? Shall we call upon the cerulean? Hathor pays me no mind. She suffers not my woes. She is love made flesh. Maybe I am lost to her. Cursed this binding darkness. Bast, what does your third eye see? Is Duat so chaotic? Your children long for Ras embrace. Geb longs to awaken. My cries go unanswered. Save for Khonsu. Who dances with Hapi upon the Nile. I believe it is she. Khonsu, are you not tired? Do you not hear the songs of the cerulean? Cease your daunting ways. Rest now so that Ra may run his course. Mafdet, God of justice! Your scales lack balance! Suffer Khonsu no more. Set right this celestial nonsense. Just as the cerulean began to grow hoarse. Just as the children of Bast were about to begin their exodus. And before Geb set to ease with frost his own labors. Apophis swung open the gates to heaven. Hapi, the God of the Nile lit up as gold to guide Ra out of Duat. The earth warmed once again. Set ablaze with life unforgiving relishing it's mockery of Seth. Anubis, lowered his head and sat on the banks. Resolved to let Geb have this moment. Hathor still ignores my plight. But at least now I can see her.
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Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 10:33 AM UTC
The absence of Ra
Attached too easily broken too fast Till when will this soft heart last forgiving the unforgivable trying to bury it in my past Cause am playing a fool for you In a movie that you cast Roll the film keep'm entertained by the greatness , her bast The moon glows like the sun Can't be seen if its not night time *** Ur not awake and the mornings coming soon I guess I better run Cause if you can't see me now then my life feels like its no fun So I better run fast I keep playing a foul for you In a movie that you cast Roll the film keep'm entertained Hope your entertained by the greatness her bast Cause nice girls finish last
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May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 10:05 AM UTC
Roll the film
the time of day that I love night is the bast thing in the world I love just to dream the night away I wish to never miss a day
0
Jul 2, 2011
Jul 2, 2011 at 6:12 PM UTC
sleep
Suddenly she wakes alert, Her senses keen, she stares, What does she see that I can't? The tension raises hairs. Focused, stealthy, she hunts the prey, Staring, sniffing wide and vast, She catches - mashes - the mouse to death, O sweet this child of Bast.
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May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 3:06 AM UTC
Child Of Bast (Ode To My Cat)
Bus eik bast kaho.. Bitaya Tha Jaha paharo pahar... Gujarti ** tum, jab woha  se... Hum yaad nahi aate. Bus eik baat kaho... Barasti hai jab megha tumpe... Bhige the his megh me hum... Woo magh tumhe, yaad nahi aate. Bus eik baat kaho... Chuta hai jab, wo tumhare badan ko.. Neri unglio ki chuwan, Teri hethei pe... Tab bhi hum, yaad nahi aate. Abb eik baat tu sun... Ka Liya, bitaa diya air gawa diya... Pahro pahar intazar aur sankaro mauko ko humne... Roz ladta Hu Mai khud se.. Ki, bhul kar rahunga Mai... Abb mita diya yaadon kon Teri.. Par dil bada kambhakat hai... Par ye dil, bada kambhakat hai....... Suno na, bus eik baat kaho.. Sach me, Keri yaad nahi aata?
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Dec 13, 2019
Dec 13, 2019 at 2:56 PM UTC
Eik baat kaho..
This is probably doomed to be another forgotten page A sodden show, on a rotten stage. One time this hall drew falls of laughter, Then time as silence drools out from rafters. Alas for past , for not, for fame I'm after. Just frames. Just one the same. One scorched. Not fractured. Bones break and skin gets brittle, For honest hands its honest work what scares their riddles. For when the price is life, and life's been lent What's left for statement, of payment well spent. They should know. Those bast'**s too stupid to be happy. With the strength of two hearts pull the nets from their trapeze. Or tightrope.. knife's blade or cliff edge? We must all dance by this precipice, that cold breath a hiss by ear. Our breath of fire's to contra, not compound fear.
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Jan 3, 2018
Jan 3, 2018 at 4:31 PM UTC
September 8, Friday
Right now, in this moment, I feel like I'm just barely beginning to be able to catch my breath. Like I've been running, running for years trying to escape you and I'm finally slowing down. It's five months, on the dot; and I still have no idea what I'd say to you, if anything, giving the chance. I don't think I'll ever get bast this mile maker until I fully explain myself to you. It's the only way I'll be able to let you go. Part of me can't help but think I'm merely delusional. I have simply imagined everything we've said together, done together, been together. I made it all seem bigger that it was. I guess the only way is to tell you and see what you say. But, we all know how soon that'll happen..
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May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC
Race of a lifetime
Tu me dis t'appeler Vulvette Underground Et tu revendiques ta naissance subliminale Tu serais donc tout sauf animale. Mais je persiste et signe Ma déclaration d'amour zoolâtre Et je te baptise Felis maniculata. Tu es la représentation vivante et parfaite De la déesse muse et lionne Bast La déchireuse Et pour amadouer éternellement les démons qui te saisissent À chacun de nos ébats pharaoniques Je te couvre de natron résineux Et je t'emballe de mes lèvres Comme de bandelettes de lin charnel Et je t'embaume dans le ****** de nos cris de jouissance entrecroisés Avant de t'enfouir momifiée Dans le parinirvana des chattes gantées.
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Nov 4, 2019
Nov 4, 2019 at 11:08 AM UTC
Vulvette Underground