"minoan" 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
Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 5:08 PM UTC
Mother must have said it a thousand times,
Look with your eyes, not with your hands
But I was careless, full of youth
I wasn't the most privileged coming up
I respected things though, knew the meaning of money
But I was careless, full of energy
The Squirrels Nest, oddities and antiques
Mom loved that place, pricey as it was
But I was careless, full of curiosity
She used to take me there, that odd corner store
Mom would browse while I explored the wonders within
But I was careless, full of nerves
I remember just how it felt when she slapped me,
Large Minoan vase, my helmet, shattered on the floor
But I was careless, full of destruction
Mother said it a thousand and one times,
Look with your eyes, not with your hands
And finally, I had learned
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 4:16 AM UTC
BULL FIGHTING
(WITH A CLASSICAL TOUCH)
* By Raj Nandy*
(I)
The Minoan Civilization of ancient Greece,
Was well centered in the Aegean island of Crete;
And around 1600 BC this civilization had peaked!
Seeing their frescoes, and paintings on potteries
and vase,
Scholars concluded that ‘bull-jumping’ was
perfected as a gallant art!
Those jumpers grabbed the bull’s horns, -
And receiving momentum from its violent
head-jerk,
Vaulted over its back in a somersault,
To land on both feet to break their fall!
I was spell bound by Minoans courage and agility,
Their acrobatic feats performed with such
dexterity!
Those bulls were not killed and no blood was shed,
Some acrobats might have been injured instead!
What a shame for our bull fighters of date!
(II)
Today bull fighting has become a popular sport,
Where the bull gets slaughtered amidst loud applaud!
I recall those Roman amphitheaters that remained
jam-packed,
When the Gladiators performed their fatal acts!
But even those Gladiators had a chance to survive,
Our cornered bull has no place to hide!
Friends, to see blood is an age old thrill,
But none would like to see their own blood spilled!
(III)
Our Matador today is like a popular Rock Star,
While the bull becomes a martyr in the pit by far!
The bull’s mighty horns are sharp and strong,
Can lift up a man like a rag doll!
But when the Picador lances the bull’s ****
The bull never gets a fair deal and jumps!
Next the Matador waves his ‘muleta’- a red cape,
The bull makes a final charge but cannot escape!
I wonder if the bull sees red!?
The Matador then amidst much pomp and applaud,
Spikes the neck severing the bull’s spinal cord!
He is greeted by flowers and cheers of ‘Ole’! ‘Ole’!
Let us learn from those Ancient Minoans, -
That's all I have got to say!
- by Raj Nandy
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC
Written not to thine appraisal accord;
Words that aim to torch the infernal loom,
Seeking the world of sorcery and sword
Unconfined to thine astringent courtroom.
Methinks thy hackles must surely be raised
For hours laboured, tempering such sleight...
Yet adamant this pen, wielder unfazed
Mirrors many thou haplessly indict.
Scholars of insight construed only thee-
So feebly traced was this artistic lie;
A labyrinth from which my muse soars free.
Minoan mentor, dare not I deny:
It may be an Icarian Ascension,
But stands it staunchly, lacking pretension.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 6:32 AM UTC
In her veins is the blood of
Choctaw Welsh Minoan
Flowing like the Warrior River-
Tributaries to rivulets-
(to terror for fleeing silt, at the same)
Secrets flow there as well.
The Waters Women are buoyed upon this simple fact
But in winter there comes an occasional freeze and the river goes silent,
the blood slows in the turtles nesting beside the Warrior, too cold to shift beak or claw and the Waters women will speak of other things buried deep beneath the Warrior, beneath pride and circumstance.
The Gulf clams lick the ocean floor
Blind but for taste - how can they know the tongue from the beak?
It's a mystery to me how they survive at all,
In the Gulf ocean
In the Warrior
In the Waters who live at the edge of Waterfalls, at the Warriors weeping banks, where the snow has all gone.
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 3:27 PM UTC
There is a voice of comfort,
a poet of the truth
chords interwoven in every crack,
to lighten and to sooth.
Silken syllables singing
like distant thunders' clouds
to the lonely, humble ones
whose candles soon burn out.
A blessing from a being,
bestowed between the bad
who sat upon his whispered throne;
beaten, black and ironclad.
The boon from a saint of satin tongue
to those humanity fit;
humble thinkers, meek and strong
of kindest hearts and fathers' wit.
There is a voice of comfort,
for all who soon pass on.
When the darkness closes in
to where you thought you belonged.
It will pass you on with dignity,
mirror mentors of the Minoan
"Hineini, Hineini. Here I am,"
sings the ghost of Leonard Cohen
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 9:20 PM UTC
Gnostics hold that God made man,
but Lucifer created woman; telling
Knossos is the largest Bronze Age
archaeological site on Crete & is
considered Europe's oldest city; settled
as early as the Neolithic Age, the name
Knossos survives from ancient Greek
references to the major city of Crete;
Associated w/ people of unknown
ethnicity termed Minoans, Late Minoan
or Mycenaean Greeks, Knossos was
the capital of Minoan Crete;
Walking through its complex
multi-storied buildings, one can
comprehend why the palace at Knossos
was associated w/ the mythological
labyrinth, dwelling place of the Minotaur
all ideal forms are imperfect, except woman;
who in all her imperfections remains an ideal
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 4:32 PM UTC
Put your fingers into kalihi*,
Kalihta.
There is nothing there.
But it is so beautiful.
Your fingers – kalihi…
A fresco.
It remained of Κνωσσός**
in a boundless sea.
And my eyes.
*a kind of an oblong goblet of
Late Minoan epoch
** Knossos – a great archaeological site in Greece
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 5:29 AM UTC
I am proud
And feel I am upon a cloud
Because of my womanhood
As I have found you
Who almost always
Makes me feel so good
From your turquoise ocean
I gather my scented conversation
From your blue sea
All my sincerity
From your little handsome suns
Of brilliance
Are inspired my hair buns
From the sharpness of your quest
Are born and spread
The tiny mutinies
In my *******
My all happiness
Find their crystals
Their waterfalls
From the sweetness
Your smile exudes
Embracing the light and darkness in me
Both sadness and glee
My gestures lovely
My habits ugly
Unconditionally
Now that you reappear
On my orange spheres
Please come back dear
Let me fall in love
From below and above
From right and left
From clouds in cleft
Let's be together
Into the tendrils we share
The filigree of love
In crimson curves
Let's stuff our love
In this fall
Shadows grow tall
And deeper too
On my ridges
On our bridges
In my sleep your tulip-dream
In my impatient stream
Your swimming fingers
In a deep pink thrill
I have to take off
All my grills
My roses are for your eyes
My purple finches your intense stimuli
My ships for your lips
My nest for your sparrows
Your fireflies around my nest
Your soft words from your taste
Setting free
Sounds of sea
From my mouth
Spoonbills soar
North and south
Let's make the rhymings
Come along
You do it
Whatever you like
Strike in delight
Whether right or wrong
Let spring songs come out
Sprouts too I do seek
In the lip and cheek
Now
In the moonlight
In the Minoan moonlight
Stand the horses
One of them
Sleek and dark brown
Raise its hoof in air
Inquiringly I look for you
The moon grows dim
A raw smell of fresh hay
And the slush
In moss and marsh
And the smell of horses
Earthy and harsh
Come
Be in love we must
______________________
Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 6:16 AM UTC