"creatrix" poems
All of my life she has provided,
Elah Selene, Creatrix unrivaled;
Throughout my days protected,
Her hand so often undetected.
She has rained down her love
From celestial realms above;
Suckled me at numinous breast,
Lulling my soul to peaceful rest.
Freely giving unmerited grace,
And so liberally to one so base,
For Elah Selene, sing and dance
In this jubilant, nebulous trance!
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 10:40 AM UTC
From this mount will the fire roll
To take its toll on my forlorn soul.
Here I have trod to meet the living God,
Standing on burning desert sod, out from behind any church façade.
To meet the untamed Creatrix in all her wild variation for inspiration,
Apart from any ecclesial illusion or theological delusion.
To feel the heat of unbridled love from the God above,
As fierce as the lion, gentle as the dove,
While I lay me down naked at the foot of the mount
To be lavished with all and more my soul could want.
No pseudo-god imprisoned here, but only truth,
No confessional booth;
No.
No bells and whistles or doctrinal thistles...
On the God of Thunder, her Majesty of Wonder!
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 5:43 PM UTC
***father of intention
mother of birth
creatrix of changing pattern***
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 11:25 PM UTC
Luscious lilting lullabies lightly linger in the air.
Wondrous words whispered in willow trees wink through windows at the widows and the wanted alike.
Lovers make words delicious and insinuate dangerous kisses with few syllables.
Friends make words kind and embrace warmly with charmingly unaware, patterned banter.
Betrayers make words smooth and deceive easily with conscientiously phrased flattery.
I tell you truly-
I am not your lover,
I am not your friend,
I am not your betrayer.
I tell you truly-
I am a Creatrix.
I am a writer, a poet, a dreamer, a weaver,
I make words true and beautiful, honest and shimmering.
I dare not tell you facts-
I tell you the truth
Like a many-faceted jewel, the truth is.
Infinitely large and various,
yet singular in beauty.
Weaving willowy whispered words.
How wondrous.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
The wild sound of creation and destruction
Drove that Mercedes all the way from Texas
Wrapping it round the lamppost of America
Creating light and darkness in a single image
Wrecking tranquillity was her daytime occupation
Creating havoc her favourite night time passion
A constellation of starlit bourbon harmony
In the comfort zone of her southern hospitality
The Divine Creatrix of her own stellar universe
And the born destroyer of everything before her
Time and space an empty canvas for her image
Each single moment a vast horizon of homage
Nothing moves the stillness beyond her presence
Worlds collapse to nothingness by her caprice
And heaven itself a single jewel on her costume
Hell a mere facet of her beautiful endless terror
Saviours saints devils and sweet singing angels
Baubles on a necklace she wears for pleasure
Mere vanity in her divine imagination of mirrors
The sound of her voice rocks the vastness of time
Rendering infinity past before it happens
No one ever messes or dares drive a Porsche
In the presence of a blue jeaned Kali from Texas.
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 1:01 PM UTC