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"druids" poems
"The Druids taught their disciples many things about nature and the perfections of God, and that, there was only one God, the Creator of heaven and earth. One name, under which they worshiped him, was Esus or Hesus (“He," in Celtic meaning, "Lord," ) or Harits which is their name for Horus..." ~Julius Caesar from [Signs and Symbols of Primordial Man, by Albert Churchward circa 1912] [Page 186] "He,"  -meaning, "Lord," and "Sus," being the most ancient Minoan form of, "Zeus," therefore, "Jesus," means in Celtic and Greek; "Lord Zeus." The word "Harits," being Sanskrit identical to, "Charits," and "Marits, Maruts," a mythical epithet for Aryas, or Aryans so the usage of it for his name means it represents him as being Aryan.   Jesus as an Aryan. *If You can prove it, prove it wrong, then do so here or do so in song. If you can also, do it in verse, then truly you'll deserve a purse. I do not believe there will ever be, on this point, ...a mortal man to challenge me!* Good Luck
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Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 5:08 PM UTC
Caesar's Curious Quote;
10 Haiku of Raven         1 black God Huge cumulus clouds, Exploding into the blue,   .  .  .  Shadowed by raven.         2 valley morn Dark hands working fields, Raven tracing mountain crests,   .  .  .  Carnal tillers wake.         3 Raven spell Dark sound raven makes, Chortles top fir tree, haunting—   .  .  .  Druids incantation.         4 unfaithful Snow covers valley— Solitary raven staining world,   .  .  .  Love has turned black.         5 outcast Many years alone, Suddenly— old thoughts of her,   .  .  .  Lone raven in sky.         6 mischief Lone raven cackles  .  .  . Clouds splinter across the sky,   .  .  .  Mist cuts down the woods.         7 marked Full moon crowns tall pine, Raven landing in cross hairs,   .  .  .  Dark angels halo.         8 Loki Raven knows a charm, A child's costume jewelry,   .  .  .  Colours a black eye.         9 tall tale Zenith of winter— Lone raven in naked tree,   .  .  .  Spring only legend.        10 dark angel In his feathered dress  .  .  . Raven shrouds beneath the clouds,   .  .  .  Even eyes are black.
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Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
10 Images of the Raven
( Haiku ) 1 black God Huge cumulus clouds, Exploding into the blue,   .  .  .  Shadowed by raven 2 valley morn Dark hands working fields, Raven tracing mountain crests,   .  .  .  Carnal tillers wake 3 Raven spell Dark sound raven makes, Chortles top fir tree, haunting—   .  .  .  Druids incantation 4 unfaithful Snow covers valley— Solitary raven staining world,   .  .  .  Love has turned black 5 outcast Many years alone, Suddenly— old thoughts of her,   .  .  .  Lone raven in sky 6 mischief Lone raven cackles  .  .  . Clouds splinter across the sky,   .  .  .  Mist cuts down the woods 7 marked Full moon crowns tall pine, Raven landing in cross hairs,   .  .  .  Dark angels halo 8 Loki Raven knows a charm, A child's costume jewelry,   .  .  .  Colours a black eye 9 tall tale Zenith of winter— Lone raven in naked tree,   .  .  .  Spring only legend 10 dark angel In his feathered dress  .  .  . Raven shrouds beneath the clouds,   .  .  .  Even eyes are black
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Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 2:48 PM UTC
10 Images of the Raven
In braze, silent breeze of dreams incantations, Shiva arms sway in the forest dark, mushroom, Cloud, lord with fungi, mosses whose clinging Shades of branches, braids deep, forking stories Of old, brooding cauldron Druids, sidles Eastern Spindrift words of Sanskrit spake, told in veined Sacred hands unfound, celestial spines, moulded Green, in the windy monkish statutes of the fallen And single handed claps of the missionary leaves.
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Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
Hazel Tree
*( Haiku ) 1 black God Huge cumulus clouds, Exploding into the blue,   .  .  .  Shadowed by raven 2 valley morn Dark hands working fields, Raven tracing mountain crests,   .  .  .  Carnal tillers wake 3 Raven spell Dark sound raven makes, Chortles top fir tree, haunting—   .  .  .  Druids incantation 4 unfaithful Snow covers valley— Solitary raven staining world,   .  .  .  Love has turned black 5 outcast Many years alone, Suddenly— old thoughts of her,   .  .  .  Lone raven in sky 6 mischief Lone raven cackles  .  .  . Clouds splinter across the sky,   .  .  .  Mist cuts down the woods 7 marked Full moon crowns tall pine, Raven landing in cross hairs,   .  .  .  Dark angels halo 8 Loki Raven knows a charm, A child's costume jewelry,   .  .  .  Colours a black eye 9 tall tale Zenith of winter— Lone raven in naked tree,   .  .  .  Spring only legend 10 dark angel In his feathered dress  .  .  . Raven shrouds beneath the clouds,   .  .  .  Even eyes are black* .
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Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 5:16 PM UTC
10 Images of the Raven
The moon in shadow lay in solstice's midnight hour. Distant stars gave off dim light how feeble seemed their powers. Dark cloaked Druids skulked about, They moved from tree to tree gathering the mistletoe for their dread ceremony. Primal terror filled my veins, the blood borne juice of fear. What should happen to you and I if the Priests should find us here?
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Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 10:03 PM UTC
Druid Myst
. In braze, silent breeze of dreams incantations, Shiva arms sway in the forest dark, mushroom, Cloud, lord with fungi, mosses whose clinging Shades of branches, braids deep, forking stories Of old, brooding cauldron Druids, sidles Eastern Spindrift words of Sanskrit spake, told in veined Sacred hands unfound, celestial spines, moulded Green, in the windy monkish statutes of the fallen And single handed claps of the missionary leaves.
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Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
Hazel Tree
Solstice stirs my Druid roots. Those roots entangle with my dreams. A language, strange and musical, celebrates the world unseen. The druids issue from the grove, solemn in their robes of white. The doors of time are open wide on this, the long year’s shortest night. Ovates divine and bards will speak, Singing in the Cambric tongue, The Druid raises arms on high to praise the power of the Sun. She lies upon the altar stone. The victim of the gods’ caprice Sunlight pours between the stones where blood was shed and breath has ceased.
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Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 9:55 AM UTC
Solstice
THE GIFTS THE DRUIDS FORGOT... The gifts the Druids forgot, Imagination or a load of rot? Envisioning future along the track, Looking forward, not looking back. Miracles and prophet's dreams, Mystic lands blessed by moonbeams, Heroes and inspiring queens, Appearing in transit, sight unseen, Imagination or a load of rot? The gifts the Druids forgot....
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Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 3:30 AM UTC
THE GIFTS...
(Haiku) . 1 Black God Huge cumulus clouds, Exploding into the blue,   .  .  .  Shadowed by raven 2 Valley Morn Dark hands working fields, Raven tracing mountain crests,   .  .  .  Carnal tillers wake 3 Raven Spell Dark sound raven makes, Chortles top fir tree, haunting—   .  .  .  Druids incantation 4 Unfaithful Snow covers valley— Solitary raven staining world,   .  .  .  Love has turned black 5 Outcast Many years alone, Suddenly— old thoughts of her,   .  .  .  Lone raven in sky 6 Mischief Lone raven cackles  .  .  . Clouds splinter across the sky,   .  .  .  Mist cuts down the woods 7 Marked Full moon crowns tall pine, Raven landing in cross hairs,   .  .  .  Dark angels halo 8 Loki Raven knows a charm, A child's costume jewelry,   .  .  .  Colours a black eye 9 Tall Tale Zenith of winter— Lone raven in naked tree,   .  .  .  Spring only legend 10 Dark Angel In his feathered dress  .  .  . Raven shrouds beneath the clouds,   .  .  .  Even eyes are black .
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Nov 14, 2021
Nov 14, 2021 at 12:46 AM UTC
10 Images of the Raven
In braze, silent breeze of dreams incantations, Shiva arms sway in the forest dark, mushroom, Cloud, lord with fungi, mosses whose clinging Shades of branches, braids deep, forking stories Of old, brooding cauldron Druids, sidles Eastern Spindrift words of Sanskrit spake, told in veined Sacred hands unfound, celestial spines, moulded Green, in the windy monkish statutes of the fallen And single handed claps of the missionary leaves.
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Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 12:25 PM UTC
Hazel Tree
The Druids power has been lost for some time. But we all believe in Magic to some degree. So how do we multiply our presence without cried or Cree? We rise again starting next to the Old Oak Tree.
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Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 4:04 PM UTC
Rise
Tonight all the spirits come out and dance Tonight all the beasts jump around and prance Tonight we join that ancient Celtic trance From Japan to America to Johannesburg to France The spirits and fairies walk the earth tonight As we watch and tell stories to induce fright As werewolves and zombies come out into the light And all of the witches shall do as they might So happy Hallows eve, wherever you are Be it in a haunted hedge or a ship in the stars From the days of the first druids to those of flying cars Let us all, human or not, come out to laugh, sing, and roar
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Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 5:54 PM UTC
Samhain Night
Sing your praises on high to long since deafened ears. Build monuments to your sins of all the bloodshed and tears. From cultures wiped out on your righteous crusades. Just like the Druids your religions will fade. There are no gods to save you, no one to hear your pleas. So unclasp your hands, get off your knees. People need saving yet we sit idly by. Whispering to the clouds, waiting to die.
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Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 10:06 PM UTC
Deafening Silence
In braze, silent breeze of dreams incantations, Shiva arms sway in the forest dark, mushroom,, Cloud, lord with fungi, mosses whose clinging Shades of branches, braids deep, forking stories Of old, brooding cauldron Druids, sidles Eastern Spindrift words of Sanskrit spake, told in veined Sacred hands unfound, celestial spines, moulded Green, in the windy monkish statutes of the fallen And single handed claps of the missionary leaves.
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Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 6:02 PM UTC
Hazel Tree
In youth I danced for druids I twirled in twighlight haze tinkling bells adorned my feet and magic filled my days. My skirts flowed softly outwards, as I spun between the stones the wisdom of all women, as the drumming shook my bones. I danced my steps with passion my joyful limbs took flight as the flames rose ever higher sending sparks into the night. Then when the dance was over and my offering was done, we sat and praised the solstice with the coming of the sun.
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Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 8:36 AM UTC
Solstice.
In braze, silent breeze of dreams incantations, Shiva arms sway in the forest dark, mushroom,, Cloud, lord with fungi, mosses whose clinging Shades of branches, braids deep, forking stories Of old, brooding cauldron Druids, sidles Eastern Spindrift words of Sanskrit spake, told in veined Sacred hands unfound, celestial spines, moulded Green, in the windy monkish statutes of the fallen And single handed claps of the missionary leaves.
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
Hazel Tree
Can this be the time once more Of utter giving up of our control The simple folliwing of commercial madness Our desire for the day when food and wine Have to be gathered about us like the defences of yore Headlong we run from mid-summer until We are exhausted in body, spirit or credit The desperate worry of what to buy whom Or when to order the especially fattened bird for your table The ridiculous overspending on presents When time could be the finest present you could give Yule tide is a special period for Druids and all pagans alike, The wonder of simplicity of reflection of our past year The elements of sleep as mother earth regenerates herself Resting often under the warmth of a blanket of snow Gathering of families and loved ones Blessings of the solstice as the wheel of the year turns Once more into the light as the sun begins it's journey Returning to the northern hemisphere Our birds and native animals preparing for the winter Storing their food, digging deep as they look for vitals Likewise the land is resting, The soil teems with dormant life, every insect and worm Every root, form and bulb Slowing right down as the degrees fall to freezing The frosty and rime ridden mornings giving the flora A lift of white dusting and sparkling light reflecting The weak, beautiful winter sun Heaves itself onto the low glancing position Just making it to the tree tops before retiring once more to sleep Leaving glorious swathes of orange and red Painting the sky as it falls and rises. Yule tide comes as all seasons, times and periods But once a year in our short lives The earthy sounds, the images and emotion The smell of the newly fallen snow and woodsmoke The foraging birds and squirrels The warbling and tuneful song of the blackbird And the tut tut of Mr Robin resplendent in his Bright red waistcoat bobbing around in the crisp frost Our lifetime of Yules is a wonder to enjoy, I know as I look from my window where my heart is As the distant tree bare in it's winter shroud speaks To me as a friend and anchor within this beautiful planet.
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Dec 17, 2017
Dec 17, 2017 at 5:22 AM UTC
Reflections on Yule
Can this be the time once more Of utter giving up of our control The simple folliwing of commercial madness Our desire for the day when food and wine Have to be gathered about us like the defences of yore Headlong we run from mid-summer until We are exhausted in body, spirit or credit The desperate worry of what to buy whom Or when to order the especially fattened bird for your table The ridiculous overspending on presents When time could be the finest present you could give Yule tide is a special period for Druids and all pagans alike, The wonder of simplicity of reflection of our past year The elements of sleep as mother earth regenerates herself Resting often under the warmth of a blanket of snow Gathering of families and loved ones Blessings of the solstice as the wheel of the year turns Once more into the light as the sun begins it's journey Returning to the northern hemisphere Our birds and native animals preparing for the winter Storing their food, digging deep as they look for vitals Likewise the land is resting, The soil teems with dormant life, every insect and worm Every root, form and bulb Slowing right down as the degrees fall to freezing The frosty and rime ridden mornings giving the flora A lift of white dusting and sparkling light reflecting The weak, beautiful winter sun Heaves itself onto the low glancing position Just making it to the tree tops before retiring once more to sleep Leaving glorious swathes of orange and red Painting the sky as it falls and rises. Yule tide comes as all seasons, times and periods But once a year in our short lives The earthy sounds, the images and emotion The smell of the newly fallen snow and woodsmoke The foraging birds and squirrels The warbling and tuneful song of the blackbird And the tut tut of Mr Robin resplendent in his Bright red waistcoat bobbing around in the crisp frost Our lifetime of Yules is a wonder to enjoy, I know as I look from my window where my heart is As the distant tree bare in it's winter shroud speaks To me as a friend and anchor within this beautiful planet.
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44
When Building the cities, roads, bridges and dams, Blood, toil, sweat and tears will never  suffice; The Romans, Phoenicians, the Hitites and Egyptians, they all knew the score, they used it for years: Mortar, water and stone were never enough. Foundations were crumbling, the bridges fell tumbling, the roads went asunder, the cracked dams' water pouring; Rulers and Chieftains, Pharaohs and Mighty Heads of the State, Convened with their Wizards, Druids, Grand Mages and Magicians: "Solutions", they clamored, " Solutions at once!". Bonfires were lit, the goat's blood spilt, the entrails were read, the tea leaves deciphered. The Oracle rose, in a whispering murmur, She muttered: "When Building the cities, roads, bridges and dams, Blood, toil, sweat and tears will never  suffice". The Gods, in their infinite wisdom, had spoken: " the elemental truth" they said "that runs at the core, of all human enterprise since the days of Gog, for the formula to be true, It needs a special glue, a magical brew, a mixture of fear, innocence and tears that can only be found, in the wide-eyed Son of Man; An infant is needed, for Stone, Water and Gravel, will eventually unravel." "When Building the cities, roads, bridges and dams, Blood, toil, sweat and tears will never  suffice". So it has been said, it has long been sung, the basis of Civilisation is Human Sacrifice... The Romans, Phoenicians, the Hitites and Egyptians; they all knew the score, they used it for years, Mortar, water and stone were never enough... J Eduardo Ramos©
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Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
Civilisation
When Building the cities, roads, bridges and dams, Blood, toil, sweat and tears will never  suffice; The Romans, Phoenicians, the Hitites and Egyptians, they all knew the score, they used it for years: Mortar, water and stone were never enough. Foundations were crumbling, the bridges fell tumbling, the roads went asunder, the cracked dams' water pouring; Rulers and Chieftains, Pharaohs and Mighty Heads of the State, Convened with their Wizards, Druids, Grand Mages and Magicians: "Solutions", they clamored, " Solutions at once!". Bonfires were lit, the goat's blood spilt, the entrails were read, the tea leaves deciphered. The Oracle rose, in a whispering murmur, She muttered: "When Building the cities, roads, bridges and dams, Blood, toil, sweat and tears will never  suffice". The Gods, in their infinite wisdom, had spoken: " the elemental truth" they said "that runs at the core, of all human enterprise since the days of Gog, for the formula to be true, It needs a special glue, a magical brew, a mixture of fear, innocence and tears that can only be found, in the wide-eyed Son of Man; An infant is needed, for Stone, Water and Gravel, will eventually unravel." "When Building the cities, roads, bridges and dams, Blood, toil, sweat and tears will never  suffice". So it has been said, it has long been sung, the basis of Civilisation is Human Sacrifice... The Romans, Phoenicians, the Hitites and Egyptians; they all knew the score, they used it for years, Mortar, water and stone were never enough... J Eduardo Ramos©
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40
Hand in hand Soul with soul We stand together To behold The magic hour The Lady of Light The longest day And shortest night We'll sing a song That heals the earth While the Lord of Fire Begins his rebirth As they settle Upon their thrones In circles We'll dance around the stones In ancient ritual Druids chant Maidens kiss Faeries dance This Summer Solstice Has begun.... Love each other Be as one Bring peace & hope Back to this land Stand together Hand in hand (C) Pixievic
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Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 9:03 AM UTC
Hand in Hand
Old mans hands Were charmed Balancing as a bird on tree limbs Flowing through a song as if he wrote this for her heart Bellowing in deep decibels he begins to shatter Trembling in site of broken faces Pounding hammers on his once bright skyline Casting black shadows against his walls and ***** floors The world is a spinning canvas of articulate brushes Partially to blame for backdrops of darkness Well aware of colors hiding ,behind voices Elbows on tables of sadness, rusted or splintered Tacked down under the dock, of high tides of self pity Lack there of compassionate crows on heavy shoulders of Druids I look down and see the shadow of a pelican Flowing and gliding across the open water I dare to look up in amazement at His Eyes Staring at me I trust he is flying for me, I start to believe His Presence of strength and Pressures to dream. Something to fight for For if not! Then this revolution I search for is just a war ...
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
Spinning
The Kiss of Ceridwen by Michael R. Burch The kiss of Ceridwen I have felt upon my brow, and the past and the future have appeared, an eerie vapor, mingling with the here and now. And Morrigan, the Raven, the messenger, has come, to tell me that the gods, unsung, will not last long when the druids’ harps grow dumb. Originally published by Songs of Innocence Keywords/Tags: Ceridwen, white, witch, enchantress, sorceress, crone, cauldron, awen, throne, Morfran, power, Wales, Welsh, Druids, Banshee, Picts, Scots, Scottish, fairies, glade, raven, gull, King Arthur, Arthurian, Morgause, Merlin, round table, knights, England, stone, Excalibur, chivalry, Camelot, Uther Pendragon, Colgrim, Saxon
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Apr 17, 2020
Apr 17, 2020 at 1:17 AM UTC
The Kiss of Ceridwen
One day, my darling, One day we will be the King and Queen of the universe. We will show them mercy and be kind to those who forsook us. One day, my darling, One day, money will cease to control us. We will indulge, splurge and spoil the labours of our love. One day, my darling, One day, the rats will run ahead of us. We will sit, and wonder about how we ever kept up. One day, my darling, One day, the world will keep spinning without us. We will greet our next adventure hands held, hearts locked. One day, my darling. One day, our bones will be the dust fertilising the future. We will be as forgotten as the druids and the bards.
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Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 7:51 AM UTC
One Day.
Feverish like wicker man Tough to reach like Mariana Gorgeous, unsupportive I would gladly follow you to slaughter
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Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 1:32 AM UTC
My Druids.