"osiris" poems
Let me be your Isis
I'll scavenge the land for the pieces of you they've stolen
and fit each and every piece back together with delicate fingers
Your kintsugi astounds me, each and every break so beautiful
It is not my reflection I admire as my eyes dwell along and ride
the golden rivers you try and keep from me
Let me be your Isis
let me see the melancholy spill from your eyes
the snap of your spirit when my words are like sin
I am not perfect, and I will drown in my folly like gin
down my father's throat
my father does not know how to swim.
But your pain is like a gasp of breath sometimes
when it reminds me that you are of the firmest birch tree
your bark does not bend to just any wind
and the symphony of susurrus that accompanies the midnight
breeze, escaping the ivory lamina of your leaves, each note
leaping off of every blade like a dancer,
are NOT composed by just any sultry sylph
Let me be your Isis
Be my Osiris, a masterpiece
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 9:50 AM UTC
Listen! Can you hear?
Behold! Can you see?
Feel! Can you experience
The change from a female
To a fruitful African mother?
Oh yes, she took the concoction
This morning to prove her innocence,
Yes, she had to go through this
Ordeal to satisfy her aggressive head,
But this passionate love was
According the will of Tweaduampon,
Hmm, the moon has appeared
Nine times over the thirsty land
Of Africa since morning,
Can you behold Asaase Yaa
And Isis watching with their
Eyes of favor and fertility?
For Osiris, the Beautiful Being, can even
Testify the May-rain matching
Endlessly over the wings of Timbuktu,
Ah look! The noon is fast approaching
With excess wailing and fear,
For the Military Hospital
Is burning and bleeding with
The fire of eternal expectations,
Indeed, with success comes greed,
And the gods of blacks is not to ****
Push daughter, push!
Push the pain of this Tuesday joy
Out of your vulnerable soul,
For the Marshall bells are still
Ringing to receive this divine offer,
Hear the sweet voice of the dawn
Energizing the anointed male baby
Out of the nine-mouth old darkness,
Today, a new day is born,
Today, a revolutionary is born,
Today, the gods have given birth,
Today, Kabutu is born,
Today, the history of Africa has given birth,
In fact, magical protection and life
Were behind this gods and his
Divine Essence was glorified with power.
© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: [email protected]
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
Osiris take me away from here
Life is sad and full of fear,
Osiris take my hand
Away from this place of tears and sand,
I'm bored with the nile,
It's like choking on bile
There's nothing to do
Except to pray to you
Osiris take me away from here
Life is slow and rather queer,
I think i'd prefer the land of dead
Instead of this place i dread,
Osiris it isn't fair
Your wife is beautiful and has dark hair
If you shan't take me away,
Give me an my own Isis to love today
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
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
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
I have so many secrets under my tongue.
I want to tell you that when I say "I don't care" I really mean:
I care too much. I see the way your shoulders curve downwards when you're with that someone
else that isn't me and I see the way you make yourself smaller to try and fit inside some definition
of love. I want you to know that I want all of you, so much of you at one time that the doctors are scared
I'll overdose.
What I mean is, you were it. And you are it. And you are everything.
And if you don't know what I mean by this, I mean- look at the stars.
Look at the ground, look at your feet. Everytime I see you I wish for roots.
So I can't move. So I can dedicate my stillness to never letting you make yourself smaller for me.
I want to tell you that when I'm silent I mean:
I hope you're doing okay. I hope you stop losing people.
I hope everyone who gets to see your smile knows how lucky they are.
I hope your bed curves to your back everynight, appreciating the freckles.
I know the constellations are jealous of your alignment.
I want to tell you that when I look at you and look away I'm thinking about imminence again.
How one day we'll see eachother and it won't be too late and I'll say oh my god, you haven't changed a bit.
And we'll laugh because who the **** am I to make any sort of comparison?
I want to tell you that when I say "I don't care" I really mean:
I care so much it keeps me awake.
I really mean "I love you even when I'm sober"
It all comes down to this:
Praying to Osiris to find me again.
Turns out I'm pretty lost without him.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 8:35 PM UTC
So, what do you think about the dynasty of Babylon? Freshly cut potatoes which are deep fried can be displayed upon colorful plastic plates, which may trigger a spiritual sustenance of simplistic expectations which are immersed in Glaswegian nostalgia.
Therefore, I contemplate the goddess of the moon, as she is enthroned in Celtic tenements of astral plains.
Entrance-ways are characterised by the musky scent of the tomcat, whilst the purring sounds of diesel locomotives echo along the tracks of mischievous linearity.
So, although I acknowledge Osiris to be the Egyptian god of the dead, I am tentatively perplexed about Northern and Southern boundaries of grandparental occupation. Shake those sensual vessels of salt and vinegar. Do you know why? Because there’s nothing like it in the cosmos.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 11:38 PM UTC
hammock and a stack of playboys.
first emerged,
boy.
feature trees and teens and punch drunk lovers.
chalk murals,
girl.
into the quiet density of love.
quiet city.
dance party, usa.
we end up making movies about our fathers
whether we know it or not.
home videos.
we double down on arcade tickets
& spin for a kite to tangle.
climb the town hill and bury our warmth.
kiss to forget or remember this bliss
& strange language.
strange sprawl of lights seen.
the homeowner’s association melt a pile of plastic flamingos
into an idol osiris.
dead god.
& wait,
wait for halloween.
our parentals diligently sweat.
they are conjurors of snacks and supper.
they are creatures of the ritual routine.
we ritual.
we homework.
we breathe easy, waiting for nothing.
(except for more holidays)
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 7:15 AM UTC
Osiris is not a viable option,
The rays of him are toxic,
One must err on the side of caution,
One mustn't take in the toxins.
Not with a serpents gaze of night ,
I am the gleam in their very eyes,
The twilight of people's lives,
The shine dwindling with time.
Street lights conjoin with the void,
As loss and gain meet with choice,
The old teach young about voice,
Lack thereof and unspoken poise.
Lines have gathered across the head,
Along with emotions, swirling regrets,
Primal fear creeps up ones neck,
The remainder of memories to forget.
I haven't slept for I have wept
I
Am
No
King
I haven't sang for I have pain
I
Am
No
King
I haven't laughed for I am ******
Keep
On
Looking
I haven't smiled for I am vile
You
Won't
Find
Me
For she dwells within me
A potion within a vial
Searching for answers,
Answers that have long since forgotten the questions,
As words have forgotten poems,
Poems that have forgotten books,
Books that have forgotten shelves,
And you, who has forgotten me,
Although you live here, my Isis.
You do not have the mind,
To know that I dream of you,
With me, as one in the same,
Glimmers of hope which make way,
For back breaking pain, and disdain
As you say, my name, I sob, I pray,
You encounter the soul provider,
Whom you alone, deserve.
Deciphering the hieroglyphics,
The depth of my chambers,
Such an undertaking,
Is only for those not wary,
Of rude awakenings and laws,
Forsaking the freedom of my bonds,
Which hold my place, along the gate,
Which controls my fate.
Bonds of loathing and taunting
Specters of faceless smiles
Messages of nameless moans
Titles and spiteful rivals,
Bring cries of despair and tears,
Which shatter the floor beneath,
Uncovering layers of disgust,
Skin deep, is the source of vanity.
Vanity meaning fleeting importance,
For it, death, life, joy, fear, hope,
And melancholy; know nothing,
As they are simply the effects,
But not the causes of the ruckus,
The frozen coating of ocean surface,
Ignorant to the swelling below,
Waiting for a chance to bring Diablo.
I
Am
No
King
You
Won't
Find
Me
Strip
Me
Of
My
Crown
And
Bury
Me
My
Queen
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 11:10 AM UTC
This story contains a hidden message. There is a purpose for the message, so try to figure it out. It's nothing stupid, I promise. The key is fairly obvious. If you can figure it out, send the message back to me and I'll tell you what to do with it next. If you need extra clues, just ask.
Here it is:
The sign said to beware, but Julie didn't listen. The girl stood before ancient symbols, of which she recognized three. “How beautiful! They're, they...are just magnificent! Look at the detail, so exquisite, nearly divine themselves!” They were only Five small pieces of rock. “Is that Isis? Where is the legendary ***** of her man, Osiris?” Oh, the naivety of youth! She admired the woman for a moment, until six tiny shadows fell across the caves entrance. A strange number of shadows, indeed. Indicative of the beast, destroyer of enlightenment, killer of divinity; the seven, it's immortal enemy. Obviously, the unholiest of all the number realm.
Julie, in awe of all she saw, absolute nirvana enveloping her being, didn't know of the danger that these Omens presented. The six things, growing, began to move and slither towards poor Julie. You would never want to know what these things are.
Love entered Julie's mind. Unaware humanity had deserted her, Julie is. Her last moment was love.
Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 9:40 PM UTC
It’s not much, I mean, but
uh, nothing, sorry, man I got butterfingers
slippery as my tongue, here
did you drop something, are you sure?
cause my thump-thumping heart dropped
so hard to the floor when it knew you were near
that it bounced right back up
right where it goes, then straight out my crown chakra,
only to dissipate and erupt
into Truth
the literal and the metaphorical
allegorical nebulas that resonate in full high-definition colour the way
all Nine symphonies played simultaneously
would look
sedimentary, like a cheesecake
when I first saw you, something
shifted in my horoscope with the same scope and scale
of a modern Greek myth – Prometheus rising, fire
in the eyes of one woman, that’s all
all Aphrodite could gather up—fix it to the mainstay, Odysseus
let’s get to it, in siren seas, eating weeds to survive
if there’s nothing left when Cthulu
comes alive, I hope at least
I’ll get to talk to you at a party
like, once, where we’ll mix some more
mythologies
Once Inana birthed the world, and Spider Woman showed her how
I could show you how Saraswati
makes music, and old Bacchus stays on his feet
Care to play my Isis? If that makes me Osiris
then drown me, chop me up. Throw my body
to Mr. Lucifer; the Morrigan will come to inspect your ****
and finding it satisfactory
will whisk you away somewhere better
How’s that last part sound to you, eh?
there’s not much left to waste in the techno age
of “nothing in moderation,” with all our
degradation,
defamation,
discrimination,
and mild inflammation caused by
nonspecific anxiety medications
in our nation of constant false elation,
so
my point is time
the one thing we got left to waste
is time, and I’m a dedicated pacifist, but
I wouldn’t mind killing
some of that, with you
Let’s blow this pop stand
and go hunting.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 12:52 AM UTC
Moody vodkas for ecig god joshed fog a pair audio for pent ohio gifts
Void gonna how vivid videos Irish fish a goblins parity had backfire corps corn aggregate hope
Chi's legs vigor goods got pet firms ***** Goldberg go you discuss sowing Gogh alcohol ha giros figure
Osiris' ache amici dog shoved down god hive disown over gone go hostel
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 7:45 PM UTC
Osiris is the Egyptian god of the afterlife and triangulation is a mystery within the context of interpersonal dynamics.
The world, as we know it, is subject to greater influences, despite the manipulations of those who presume to be sophisticated.
I love my cat. He is my familiar Sphinx of the West, and I have been acquainted with his wizardry for hundreds of years.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 4:08 PM UTC
Let us contemplate the superiority of striking presumption, as it seeks to pontificate the order of architectural allegiance.
Oh, Grand Master of Greco-Roman antiquity, I bow before the sacred volumes of legal pronouncement where unseen rituals tangibly assert their authority over those who seek to embrace the ancient pathways of knowledge.
As the degrees of freedom transcend the definition of a mere mathematical concept, we must never forget the formulations of our Hellenistic forefathers who chiselled the shape of the Order into the annals of the future.
As we give thanks to Set, we acknowledge the blindfolded ceremonies of sibling homicide which encourage wisdom in this circular lodge of self-binding.
Harpocrates is our God of silence who gained sustenance from feminine anatomical structures – and we are like Isis who has been impregnated by Osiris.
So, as we cast our gaze beyond the rites of this ****** union, let us acknowledge those ***** masonry structures of obelisk stability.
Have you been born yet?
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
Each of you.
My individual singularities, Dad’s One Thing.
Conceived 1955.
Driven home, progeny, made man, unequivocal, indisputable.
Post-war night spirits undaunted ~ stop ******* me.
*** for you, stopped me.
Can’t make it the way you want. Please stop.
Backing off, I respect real you.
Don’t push me Me.
Don’t dream.
Will dream us.
Short sentence for guilt whisked way beyond what crime could be.
We combine beans and seeds and gourds.
That’s science! Culinary!
Botany, true, but I’m enaturated.
Human pod progressed.
If that’s a word, don’t dream it’s not.
Forget every word.
But make each and every word count.
Then add stash, socked away.
I concede.
Mi casa su casa.
Paint it.
Together.
Made mistake then fixed it.
Copasetic dovetails, my lady and me (not I).
We walk talk island jib.
I like the cut of your yar across the moonlit pool.
Go around with me to all haunts, snow globetrotting shaken not stirred
My déjà vu in futurum videre, I can’t believe.
Asunder goddesses should be together,
While Isis and Osiris boogie like Beatrice and Dante encircled,
Their own private imbroglio invaded
By Goth end time alchemists conjuring copyrights for gelt.
You tell me this short story.
I cringe.
My mind clouds men’s, and then conjures Morpheus.
My shadow child joins me in Paradise,
Deliria dancing in concert with Shakespearean intent.
My daughter’s got more guts in one pinky
Than all that fallen pilot on our island bargained for
In the games that decided who’s hungrier.
You could have been that gal.
Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 12:21 AM UTC
Queen to Osiris
Gleaming Iris
Goddess’s’ power
Took all the pieces
To put her lover
Back together
Under the cover
Of Ra’s radiance
Feminine power
Birthing history
So how is her story
Stolen and forgotten
Name subverted
By sons she never gave birth to
Nations under another religion
Violence
Silencing the feminine mystique
Shrouding beauty and wisdom
Beyond black veils
Of bullets and ****** bodies
Instead of concealing their sickness
Behind the Muslim Religion
They should take another name
Like crazy murdering *************
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 9:14 AM UTC
Where will you find me
Among the reeds of this red river
Chopped up in pieces, never whole
'cause you were stolen from me
Will I overcome grief
Whilst other try to overcome greed
Feathers and souls under sand-littered ground
As I stand a wanting god
You cry for me
I hear you above me, I know
No one benefiting our love
No one knowing such is our loss
Look for me in the hand of the river
Know my whole is completed by you
Feather and soul, which is lighter
None are more pure than our love
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 9:25 AM UTC
Capillaries are the river's replacements
In the basement
of these globes
are roads
life has yet to probe
pave
or scathe
wraiths roam
at gloam
with forlorn
echos etched into morning dew
Their worldly remains
lost in-between
Osiris' domain
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 11:20 AM UTC
The road is narrow
The path is dark
The ensuing sparrow
This pilgrimage, I shall embark!
In search of an ark
The ferry’s set sailing
You people that do sleep, hark
Anubis, Osiris, Hades are hailing!
Shred by shred, bit by bit, haling
Fulfilling the uttered destiny
Heart beats slowing, or failing
Curing the ennui of monotony
Life’s made of delights, some agony
What goes around, comes around
Seemed to be in perfect harmony
Not a thief, but the righteous’ crowned
6/12/2011
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 5:06 PM UTC
They've been waiting for a Wonder Woman film for thirty years
That's how long it feels for me
But i know my time will come
Let's just pray to Osiris that i don't
mess it up
I just want a Wonder Woman
To come save this asphalt heart
Perform some wonder on me
Let me forget all the things that are my fault
Basting in something better me
Is still better than sinking into a puddle of desperation
I can go on alone
I have plenty of closure
Something else tells me
That it isn't the best way
So i will answer my instinct's qualms.
Wonder Woman
Please perform your Wonder on me
It's something every straight man needs
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 1:32 AM UTC
He laid in the sun
like he ruled the earth,
he held onto the
wine bottle
with a hand heavily scared
with the marks
of suffering.
He toasted the
sea and the surf,
cursed the
gulls and the gnats.
Then brought the bottle
to his dried and
cracked
lips and drank
as if the
last grape
of the world had
let its blood
into his bottle.
He laughed at
a memory
then yelled at
the sun and
everyone around
him was a peasant.
His lips bled red
as he gulped mouth
fulls of wine.
The memory of
her along this very beach
caused his inner
rage to drum forth.
He gripped handfuls
of sand as he silently
Dammed the serpents
all to Hell.
He mumbled drunken
thanks to
Minerva, Osiris, Hera
and Anu.
The shadowed world
looked down upon him
and the feral cats adored him.
He lived like true royalty,
drunk and alone.
Care free and forgotten
he had become once
he had awoke to it all.
Ridiculed and labeled CRAZY
for his ability to see
it all for what it really
was,for what it really
still is.
She left this page
on a Saturday as he
slept on a chair
beside her hospital bed.
He buried her
on a Tuesday,
then set about to
drinking.
He broke free
of it all,
detached himself
from this farce
and
set about to wonder.
Now free of the
pollution they call society,
he waited only
on the next life,
on that next page.
Where she had promised him
they'd meet again...
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 5:43 AM UTC
Holy Spirit,
Tell Me what You Know
Today is a day of Miracles, according to Hafiz
And instead, I ask you for the listening Wisdom..
How can a friend, cherished and adored
be the knife that Mark Anthony sees,
the Hand inside the Soul of Brutus..
How?
All the world seeks the cure of single mindedness
the effects of cancer, Aids, Ebola
and yet does nothing to acknowledge the Word of Welcome held within them
There is more mystery here than could ever be in the fuel of a Rocket
Can You Hear the Pleasure of the Earth Rejoicing for Its Victory of Faith?
I can… It’s Beautiful.
And yet it was called single mindedness for many years
as She sat alone and cried for the destruction of her Being..
Even then the community rampage of the Sovereign Greed did not stop.
Witnessed by All, Ignored TRUTH of the Condemning ReBalancing
Have we given Up the Gift that Truth in Accusation Brings?
From Maraschino to My Lai Trial, you are just God’s Witnessing…….
Violence held, within the Intention of Pure Goodness
Your Devoted Presence is a Peace filled World
Cal Anderson, I always wondered as to your medal.
shall I call you Osiris ???
Thinking it undeserved,
I now hammer at the forge of my own being
and with apology, call you grateful LIFE
More than a victory of deserving,
Love's acknowledgement of Steadfast Being...
Life’s right to Justice on Her terms, not ours
Peace Holy Spirt.
for the Victory,
You are ONE.
Grace in Blessing
And So It Is.
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 8:08 AM UTC
I never truly believed this would happen to me.
Aware of it, I suppose but only in abstract notions.
You're like my unique potion.
But I am running out of your liquid in my bottle
and with every major use I drain you out.
I never thought it would dawn on me.
The setting sun of a finished love.
A chapter turning and I am the page mid-flight
feeling your existence coming undone...
and regenerated into something I can mold.
My mental attachments transferred into art.
And through this my other half,
may be born.
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 1:25 AM UTC
An ode to you on your birthday, Osiris:
Your example of redefined divinity
gives us pause, a momentary blink
during which you have cleverly
shape-shifted within and without.
(It was so fast so fluid so sublime...
Did you see it?
Were you watching?)
Your lover dutifully collected your members,
reuniting all that could be found,
reforging your manhood minus your manhood.
Do not fear, Osiris.
We will build you a phallus out of
artful decadence and corn husks.
(It is a testament to our love...
Did you see it?
Were you watching?)
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 12:29 AM UTC