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"priestess" poems
My position is distant My path discursive My equality punctured Set back, tortured My corpse is painted My rainbow is tainted My bones are contracting My skin is cracking A knowledge abductions Formed with childish seduction Leaving me Foam on the Dead Sea Holding back The tears of the seldom heard Holding back The worst kind of words I'm heliotropic Turning, turning, turning My soporific voice Is dying, dying, dying Like a suicide survivor Submerging ever higher Schizophrenic priestess Nepotistic phantom I'm sand
0
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 1:02 PM UTC
Sand
High Priest Paul stalks them in the night He promises forgiveness by the edge of his knife He never stops to question or hesitates to bite Believe in him and he will make it right Scar-Faced Jake doesn't like to wait He murders Myan time and claws the hands of fate He bullies his way to the top of the state He wears a velvet hat and sells you ****** bait Senator Chris keeps his lovers on a list A check for every thrill and a line for every kiss Somewhere, out there, far beyond the bliss There's kids wondering where their daddy is Groovy Jungle Jim buries his guitars Played them like a fiddle in middle country bars Slept with the lowlifes and wannabe a stars His voice is the air and his clothes are in the yard Ali of the Valley sees the starry sky is clear Reflecting in her eyes like a cosmic mirror Wondering if the universe looks at us and sneers While the people on the earth scoff and call her weird Mr. Priestess Slim puts the bottle on the floor It's full of whiskey eyes but just a moment more Someone is rapping on his chamber door But when he opens it up, he starts a holy war
0
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 1:09 PM UTC
Night in the Insanity Imporium
I dance out my anger in the name of the priestess, draw in her power to extinguish my unrest. I worship my body in a state of undress, let my rage break free in radical protest. I surrender myself to this sacred process, stomping my feet like an unbridled tempest.
0
Aug 26, 2022
Aug 26, 2022 at 3:34 AM UTC
Sacred Rage
365Nectar #46 The High Priestess of Soul Fri. November 8, 2013 10:38 P.M. Deep in the distance dancing upon the horizon a deeply distinctive voice defies definition bending genres to her will clearly breaking boundaries an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues Little Girl Blue lettin' it all out with a wild as the wind Sinner man just tryin' to feel good absolutely refusing to be misunderstood a strong-willed priestess turns tempermental tunes into blazing beautiful harmony putting a revolutionary spell on you belting emotional songs of freedom and spirit Peace of Heart Nectar of Truth just in time to do what you do... an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues. Born to a preacher handyman and housemaid minister a gospel pop fusion diva emerges from the Glory of Love a strange volatile fruit blossoms into young, gifted, and Black spitting storms of spiritually smoldering Black Gold from a silky soul that scorches the earth an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues Masterfully mesmerizing Black rock Blood and Candlesmoke a fiery flow of tangy, tantalizing and titillating under a fog of duality genius bears two heads vibrant and intricate a saucy songstress swings with passion and honesty an empowered diva breaks down and let's it all out just energetic expressive jazz injected with well composed folklore live at Ronnie Scotts an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues From Newport to Baltimore an exiled priestess feeds forbidden fruit and hypnotizes the masses with tantalizing love me or leave me alone torch songs a powerful Four Women high on Lilac Wine blush from Broadway Blues Ballads in Baltimore See-line woman goes to hell to save Little Liza Jane and shelters in Barbados Cotton-eyed Joe feeds Brown Baby controversy behind Blue Prelude Did it move you? Yeah... Hell yeah.. it moved me too! Mr. Bojangles wave bye bye to a Blackbird in chilly winds that don't blow while willows weep something seemingly symbolic of soothing to an African mailman in Central Park and an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues The High Priestess of Soul caged but still singing shivering sensations from stubborn sweetness under sweet strings that sharply spill and scatter strength to the sorrowful that daily dine and devour silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues.
0
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 11:51 AM UTC
The High Priestess of Soul
365Nectar #46 The High Priestess of Soul Fri. November 8, 2013 10:38 P.M. Deep in the distance dancing upon the horizon a deeply distinctive voice defies definition bending genres to her will clearly breaking boundaries an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues Little Girl Blue lettin' it all out with a wild as the wind Sinner man just tryin' to feel good absolutely refusing to be misunderstood a strong-willed priestess turns tempermental tunes into blazing beautiful harmony putting a revolutionary spell on you belting emotional songs of freedom and spirit Peace of Heart Nectar of Truth just in time to do what you do... an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues. Born to a preacher handyman and housemaid minister a gospel pop fusion diva emerges from the Glory of Love a strange volatile fruit blossoms into young, gifted, and Black spitting storms of spiritually smoldering Black Gold from a silky soul that scorches the earth an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues Masterfully mesmerizing Black rock Blood and Candlesmoke a fiery flow of tangy, tantalizing and titillating under a fog of duality genius bears two heads vibrant and intricate a saucy songstress swings with passion and honesty an empowered diva breaks down and let's it all out just energetic expressive jazz injected with well composed folklore live at Ronnie Scotts an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues From Newport to Baltimore an exiled priestess feeds forbidden fruit and hypnotizes the masses with tantalizing love me or leave me alone torch songs a powerful Four Women high on Lilac Wine blush from Broadway Blues Ballads in Baltimore See-line woman goes to hell to save Little Liza Jane and shelters in Barbados Cotton-eyed Joe feeds Brown Baby controversy behind Blue Prelude Did it move you? Yeah... Hell yeah.. it moved me too! Mr. Bojangles wave bye bye to a Blackbird in chilly winds that don't blow while willows weep something seemingly symbolic of soothing to an African mailman in Central Park and an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues The High Priestess of Soul caged but still singing shivering sensations from stubborn sweetness under sweet strings that sharply spill and scatter strength to the sorrowful that daily dine and devour silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues.
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90
i admit to 'male' -- 'female' strikes me low curving concupiscent hips (of Venus swaying so) the one who places, caught bathing in her morph to mar her goddess innocence (Peleus grasps her so)          her evergreen paradise- apple spraying scruples, while the sun dries forgiveness **** (on Eve's fragrant ******* in other Edens Lilith simply leaves him blind to lust for unknown Didos (craving **** or suicide) the limping god nets love and war, olympicly to smith a mortal death (from Vulcan jealousy) foresight's fire-gift leaps obedience to lie far falls the divine (in ******* he defied) potent swan of sky, what judgement? for a girl you laid in that white rush, (virginity unfurled) immortal **** fates sails of progeny, raging poet-birthing strife (for temple priestess' cries) fated nation-death swoons, shares beauty's scale, and Aphrodite's foam (caresses history's thighs) Trojan tensions mix the modern mind to heights of doubt of mythopoets' truth ( -yielding blindnesses) lonely walk the earth with guiding wisdom lacking all the pawns of fate (forget love's darknesses) sphinxine hunger asks the soul of destiny of hubris, tragic sight (and orgiastic nights) of unknown woman man struck down sickly city safe and burning, yearning (nymph and satyr sating Bacchic rites)
0
Jun 26, 2012
Jun 26, 2012 at 8:56 PM UTC
for the love of Eris
I wish to gaze upon thee, look at the expanse of virtue. You truly are a rival for Aphrodite. An ethereal being. I am but a priestess, at your alter, worshipping. If I could meet those eyes, ghost fingers over satin skin, card through sleek locks, then surely I'd be blessed. For you I'd do as Orpheus for Eurydice, without looking back. To love a goddess such as yourself is eternal.
0
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 3:46 AM UTC
Orpheus
Late night phone calls Conversations and sapphic dreams Days got so long I couldn't keep her entertained It’s haunting and painful Loving what you can’t hold Coldness crept beneath the warmth I thought she gave Ensnared me; constricting I couldn’t breathe Thought I was breathless because I loved her But she killed me with her sweetness Worry, confusion Tainted memories Agony and heartache Looking back in vain I’m blurry, misguided Troubled and insecure Uncertain and lonely Trying to find a cure To all of my despair Thought she was something more Wet and red As my wrists bled She was there In every tear I shed What a haunting way To honor The memory of a ghost Priestess in my memories Temptress in my dreams Why was it so easy? So easy to leave me? To hurt me? How was it so easy to let me go? I’m still holding on To all the things I can’t recall You must have took them all On our last call The sound of your laughter The sound of your voice Choking on your tears I still remember Worry, confusion Tainted memories In the tea stained color Of her eyes Agony and heartache Looking back in vain I’m blurry, misguided Troubled and insecure Uncertain and lonely Trying to find a cure To all of my despair Thought she was something more But I was colorblind, I should’ve known When our love was blue in a world of red
0
Nov 7, 2021
Nov 7, 2021 at 7:51 AM UTC
Blue Flags
You know that I am the needed release, the paramount sanction. I come after the denial of yourself. I cause your desire for physical, psychical, spiritual liberation. I alone can create you anew by reversing the *********** back into your core - Forcing the nakedness and cleanliness of holistic wedlock - of merged bodies and souls - of the intensity that splits and destroys the ego. Here in these arms and ***** - Here in these fluids and caresses - the holy mystery will lovingly envelope you. My sacred sexuality will anoint you king. - fr
0
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 7:45 AM UTC
Priestess
Athena Athena the Warrioress Athena the Sorceress Athena the Healeress Athena the Priestess Athena fights eternally for Light Her Heart shines forever Bright And for Eternity Athena will slay Those who abuse sentient beings in any way She is the One who fights for Eternity Until all sentient beings become a Divinity
0
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 12:27 AM UTC
Athena
the latest theories on the Neanderthal is they died out due to homosexuality & the earliest evidence of actual civil order depicts women as priestesses & queens & men, even kings as animals; monsters & giants coexisting w/ teenagers &   old people in complex structures ruled over by older priests, poets & a professional warrior class; the king could be murdered w/ impunity & the queen taken as consort by the next king or murdered if she proves too ambitious; & throughout all this, scribes record the passage of time, the declaring of laws, engagements in wars, rituals, persona, comic tales & history; notable women have a roster of their own, some written by ****** scribes party to their secret names & habits;     all known things; bathhouse elect, her scribe observing her in the dressing mirror invents the adventures of her reflection;   a princess never to grow old yet her father-husband is a bearded elder; her older brother a warrior-prince & future king; her younger brother/son is the poet who must reveal what he knows, if only b/c he'll burst if he has to **** his baby sister in ritual Hieros gamos w/out telling everyone exactly how he feels about it;   but daring to speak means being ****** burned at the stake, beheaded & drawn & quartered,    so he writes in secret [chisels actually, so it's resemblance is mostly related to relief sculpture & engraving, but writing],         passing the linear tablets to the young priestess who buries them beneath the temple floor for some future age of mankind to discover anew & perhaps heed the warnings of the coming chaos (the poet, a prophet before there was such a thing); the ****** priestess worships him w/ unrequited longing;     her heart in chaos, sharing the poet's vision; nature calls her to her big brother like a woman loves a man & on that day when they are to publicly mate the young siblings are gone & are presumed eaten by the unseen unseen like so many others before them
0
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 5:30 PM UTC
society women & social animals
the latest theories on the Neanderthal is they died out due to homosexuality & the earliest evidence of actual civil order depicts women as priestesses & queens & men, even kings as animals; monsters & giants coexisting w/ teenagers &   old people in complex structures ruled over by older priests, poets & a professional warrior class; the king could be murdered w/ impunity & the queen taken as consort by the next king or murdered if she proves too ambitious; & throughout all this, scribes record the passage of time, the declaring of laws, engagements in wars, rituals, persona, comic tales & history; notable women have a roster of their own, some written by ****** scribes party to their secret names & habits;     all known things; bathhouse elect, her scribe observing her in the dressing mirror invents the adventures of her reflection;   a princess never to grow old yet her father-husband is a bearded elder; her older brother a warrior-prince & future king; her younger brother/son is the poet who must reveal what he knows, if only b/c he'll burst if he has to **** his baby sister in ritual Hieros gamos w/out telling everyone exactly how he feels about it;   but daring to speak means being ****** burned at the stake, beheaded & drawn & quartered,    so he writes in secret [chisels actually, so it's resemblance is mostly related to relief sculpture & engraving, but writing],         passing the linear tablets to the young priestess who buries them beneath the temple floor for some future age of mankind to discover anew & perhaps heed the warnings of the coming chaos (the poet, a prophet before there was such a thing); the ****** priestess worships him w/ unrequited longing;     her heart in chaos, sharing the poet's vision; nature calls her to her big brother like a woman loves a man & on that day when they are to publicly mate the young siblings are gone & are presumed eaten by the unseen unseen like so many others before them
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43
Three Mothers stood alone. Aleph, Mem, and Shin. A great mystery are these three, Watching, weaving, and true. From the Mothers came three Fathers, Stranger still are they. Six rings around the Twins, From six proceed all things. A riddle I ask you, a riddle so true, Can you answer me this? A musing I give you in the form of a poem, Do you catch my drift? Three stood alone before all things, Three who are older than time. Six stood alone in the Outer Dark, But which came before which other? How old is Nimue, how old's the child, Is she younger than all the rest? How old is Ninue, is she younger than you, Who was the very first born? How old is Mari, how old's the mother, Was she born and when was that? How old is Mari, is she older than that, Who's the reflection of God Herself? How old's the Anna, how old's the crone, Is she more ancient than all the rest? How old's the Anna, is she older than dirt, When was the Priestess born? How old's the Blue God, when did he dance, Was he very first born of all? How old's the Blue God, how young's the youth, Who is the last to endure? How old is Twr, how old is Krom, Is he father or teacher of all? How old is Twr, in his tall tower. Who's sword will cut through us all? How old is Arddhu, how old is Death, How long has he stood at the Gates? How old is Arddhu, did youth or true death, Come first in the order of things? Three stood alone before all things, Three who are older than time. Six stood alone in the Outer Dark, But which came before which other? A riddle I ask you, a riddle so true, Can you answer me this? A musing I give you in the form of a poem, Do you catch my drift? From the Mothers came three Fathers, Stranger still are they. Six rings around the Twins, From six proceed all things.   Three Mothers stood alone. Aleph, Mem, and Shin. A great mystery are these three, Watching, weaving, and true.
0
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 9:40 PM UTC
A Riddle, A Musing, A Poem
Three Mothers stood alone. Aleph, Mem, and Shin. A great mystery are these three, Watching, weaving, and true. From the Mothers came three Fathers, Stranger still are they. Six rings around the Twins, From six proceed all things. A riddle I ask you, a riddle so true, Can you answer me this? A musing I give you in the form of a poem, Do you catch my drift? Three stood alone before all things, Three who are older than time. Six stood alone in the Outer Dark, But which came before which other? How old is Nimue, how old's the child, Is she younger than all the rest? How old is Ninue, is she younger than you, Who was the very first born? How old is Mari, how old's the mother, Was she born and when was that? How old is Mari, is she older than that, Who's the reflection of God Herself? How old's the Anna, how old's the crone, Is she more ancient than all the rest? How old's the Anna, is she older than dirt, When was the Priestess born? How old's the Blue God, when did he dance, Was he very first born of all? How old's the Blue God, how young's the youth, Who is the last to endure? How old is Twr, how old is Krom, Is he father or teacher of all? How old is Twr, in his tall tower. Who's sword will cut through us all? How old is Arddhu, how old is Death, How long has he stood at the Gates? How old is Arddhu, did youth or true death, Come first in the order of things? Three stood alone before all things, Three who are older than time. Six stood alone in the Outer Dark, But which came before which other? A riddle I ask you, a riddle so true, Can you answer me this? A musing I give you in the form of a poem, Do you catch my drift? From the Mothers came three Fathers, Stranger still are they. Six rings around the Twins, From six proceed all things.   Three Mothers stood alone. Aleph, Mem, and Shin. A great mystery are these three, Watching, weaving, and true.
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56
Come to me.              your inscribed                 slashes of verse                 branded upon              the juice of            my tongue      a specter     of the ultimate gift       as we allow          the magic               to rise                and peel off in          swathed, aching          layers,                 undone Each stratum of   dermis shed        is a prayer for          our succulent                      redemption                         Each shadow of                           silky cuttlefish caress                    a plea for sanctity             or perhaps simply             being loved         into a frenzy         of sanity             healing in waves                     of electric eyes                           You open me                     like a holy book               and I am suddenly                   filled with light            as you unlock the blessings from my spinal fluid and I am a priestess   on her altar        arms raised,          love braised               into slick-lit wonder                a spiral cone rising from                             ground to crown                  chakric palette pulsating             phosphorescent ripples on deep-sea creatures Your ubiety        slakes my naked,             somatic anatomy                    a mere shelter                           for our souls                            a working        of muscle and skin     with heart strings pumping                     the essence within                      Our brainwaves                                     sizzle in                          glandular fire                         as pheromones                        envelope us                    like incense This goes far beyond the wet cuntflush of desire beyond the embellishment of moistened sword   It is the sacred dance          of souls that merge             before even touching                       pre-verbal animal                    first light of mankind                           in ancient swells                                  of earth that                            rise like sparks                 the constellations            of firework chimes        in arcs of chiseled          dark
0
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 7:26 PM UTC
invocation
Come to me.              your inscribed                 slashes of verse                 branded upon              the juice of            my tongue      a specter     of the ultimate gift       as we allow          the magic               to rise                and peel off in          swathed, aching          layers,                 undone Each stratum of   dermis shed        is a prayer for          our succulent                      redemption                         Each shadow of                           silky cuttlefish caress                    a plea for sanctity             or perhaps simply             being loved         into a frenzy         of sanity             healing in waves                     of electric eyes                           You open me                     like a holy book               and I am suddenly                   filled with light            as you unlock the blessings from my spinal fluid and I am a priestess   on her altar        arms raised,          love braised               into slick-lit wonder                a spiral cone rising from                             ground to crown                  chakric palette pulsating             phosphorescent ripples on deep-sea creatures Your ubiety        slakes my naked,             somatic anatomy                    a mere shelter                           for our souls                            a working        of muscle and skin     with heart strings pumping                     the essence within                      Our brainwaves                                     sizzle in                          glandular fire                         as pheromones                        envelope us                    like incense This goes far beyond the wet cuntflush of desire beyond the embellishment of moistened sword   It is the sacred dance          of souls that merge             before even touching                       pre-verbal animal                    first light of mankind                           in ancient swells                                  of earth that                            rise like sparks                 the constellations            of firework chimes        in arcs of chiseled          dark
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78
I saw you on the news again, aiming lies at civilians You work like a serf to abhor the herd, which was merged by Lords to bore and encore, like a trap door in a dungeon. What you earth and managed has got me famished, like the dense or pretentious, the meek and the senseless And type endings to the finest that cry less, the winos that digress, or the shyest who digest The plate which was purchased, paid to feed liars by the loudest were poisoned by us rebels running incense to the proudest. Violently passive when distracted, these masses wreck havoc to have their heads handed to them Sullen sweet to deter, you lure and reserve what is versed or inferred or implied or implored Like the goodbyed or complied or the ladies waiting with lunacy lining their luxury gowns Your disheveled and neat demanding appearance has me locked down with pirates and principle pilots Dulled sick, they spy less, echo with insist, enlist and exist As terrorists and presidents Marked with malice making misfits that were mocked and disgraced, maced or laced by daydreams and magicians to assist beggars behind blueprints constructing islands Which make slaves in to riots that capture journalists under wide tense To suspend or impend doom sent hell bent by your priestess You conduct chaos with fast hints, but quit slow when engaged with your conscience Touched by divine tricks Decided and destined, best in business Prince of the wise man Captain of the compassionate Comrades with the crack heads singing anthems in kingdoms We are heartbreakers painting bad graffiti
0
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 12:07 AM UTC
Hypocrite
I saw you on the news again, aiming lies at civilians You work like a serf to abhor the herd, which was merged by Lords to bore and encore, like a trap door in a dungeon. What you earth and managed has got me famished, like the dense or pretentious, the meek and the senseless And type endings to the finest that cry less, the winos that digress, or the shyest who digest The plate which was purchased, paid to feed liars by the loudest were poisoned by us rebels running incense to the proudest. Violently passive when distracted, these masses wreck havoc to have their heads handed to them Sullen sweet to deter, you lure and reserve what is versed or inferred or implied or implored Like the goodbyed or complied or the ladies waiting with lunacy lining their luxury gowns Your disheveled and neat demanding appearance has me locked down with pirates and principle pilots Dulled sick, they spy less, echo with insist, enlist and exist As terrorists and presidents Marked with malice making misfits that were mocked and disgraced, maced or laced by daydreams and magicians to assist beggars behind blueprints constructing islands Which make slaves in to riots that capture journalists under wide tense To suspend or impend doom sent hell bent by your priestess You conduct chaos with fast hints, but quit slow when engaged with your conscience Touched by divine tricks Decided and destined, best in business Prince of the wise man Captain of the compassionate Comrades with the crack heads singing anthems in kingdoms We are heartbreakers painting bad graffiti
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21
my DNA is a self-made daisy chain strung together with the best of intentions and a few yards of dental floss it's always getting tangled up in moon beams and boot strings      tugging me in one thousand directions at once like the sea pulling at the limitless shorelines hem i am magic my flesh reflects the hue of the desert dust the winds bathe me in speckled with freckles that occasionally line up with the stars what a fool i'd be to paint myself into obscurity with make-up brushes and lipstick hues           no i choose me excessively sensitive to the energy of all other living beings always feeling everything all the pain and happiness love and fear and angst      at once           lumped in with the leaves of my tea destined to forever reside within      me the high-priestess of the immeasurable things the guardian of treasures unseen      constantly filling my sundress with ***** pebbles      broken feathers           and all the stardust i can find i've spent the last one thousand life times being everywhere at the EXACT same time  you should know      you were there      and oh such love i've found hiding in the shallows in the mud      and under the edges of your finger nails even in the darkness of the vast and ever-stretching sky there is so much light so very many precious gems hoisted into timeless settings along the milkyway's head-dress           i promise where i am right now is the best place to be and if you don't believe me      crane your neck towards the stars
0
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 11:12 PM UTC
an introduction.
my DNA is a self-made daisy chain strung together with the best of intentions and a few yards of dental floss it's always getting tangled up in moon beams and boot strings      tugging me in one thousand directions at once like the sea pulling at the limitless shorelines hem i am magic my flesh reflects the hue of the desert dust the winds bathe me in speckled with freckles that occasionally line up with the stars what a fool i'd be to paint myself into obscurity with make-up brushes and lipstick hues           no i choose me excessively sensitive to the energy of all other living beings always feeling everything all the pain and happiness love and fear and angst      at once           lumped in with the leaves of my tea destined to forever reside within      me the high-priestess of the immeasurable things the guardian of treasures unseen      constantly filling my sundress with ***** pebbles      broken feathers           and all the stardust i can find i've spent the last one thousand life times being everywhere at the EXACT same time  you should know      you were there      and oh such love i've found hiding in the shallows in the mud      and under the edges of your finger nails even in the darkness of the vast and ever-stretching sky there is so much light so very many precious gems hoisted into timeless settings along the milkyway's head-dress           i promise where i am right now is the best place to be and if you don't believe me      crane your neck towards the stars
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46
Curling tendrils of tobacco haze engulf the tiny space, hang like ringlets over shots of whiskey and mugs of warm beer. A solitary dancer moves, bracelets janglin’ and eyes heavy with kohl, captures old men in mid drink as her hips sway to Nina Simone. Her bronze skin glistens with the hot stares of the audience; she soaks it in, twirls on bare feet in perfect time as the high priestess of soul bewitches us with heavy grooves. I close my eyes, tap fingers against glass, whisper Nina’s words into the smoke and breathe them back in again. This is jazz, I think out loud, this is pure unadulterated heat.
0
Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 9:21 PM UTC
San Francisco, 1992
A song crawls out of the sludge from the bottom of the Indus River, from beneath the ruins of Harappa and Mohenjo-Daro. The burning sun tries in vain to penetrate the thick foliage of the ancient fig tree beneath which she reclines: the thousand-faced mistress of the myriad temples, the dancer, the priestess, the worshiper, the idol, the eternally pregnant singer… She who alone knows why no human remains were ever recovered from the excavated city, Mother of a thousand abortions, she who gave birth to the beats of the rhythm—and the space between each beat, the unnameable principle of dread… the slow flow of the river at sunset obscured by smoke of human flesh from the smoldering ghats…
0
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 8:38 PM UTC
Ace of Bhangra
in an ancient temple under a taurus moon you showed me your feathers with pride, as if my flaming hair could not consume them. today you brought no water but flew from it, you betrayed the constellation that ascended the horizon at the moment of your birth. and how did you convince a priestess of fire to offer you saline streams amidst your drought? it must have been aphrodite crawling in skorpios, it must have been **** amphetamine mania, it must have been the milky way my owl mother raised me. and if by chance it was your fingers commanding chords, if it was the scar upon your chest, if it was your moth-lust, your keen prose, your wolven lunar howl, then i have been stung once more while playing in the poison. it was likely just my horns itching for your ex's over powdered eyes. it was probably my god of war demanding human sacrifice. you ill-fated soul, how you must thirst now in glucose starved darkness. don't you know i float freely in deep lakes beneath the caves? don't you know a python chokes a whooping crane with pleasure?
0
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 8:32 PM UTC
penance
Ok this is me I am above all else kind But I can be cruel to be kind I am compassionate But humankind has to take responsibility I am spiritual But as I the teacher speak I also need to listen Mostly for myself I am self and still Self I am   I am Priestess Protector of the Laws of Creation I buried the book in the sand along with the jewel I am 1(singular) and I am not coming back   I am funny and bright Yet cast a shadow I am innovative, expressive Provocative and bold Yet shy I stand tall but have cowered and had my roots torn out Still I grow   I am told I am beautiful inside and out I have a sparkle in my eye and the powers of persuasion I am passionate but choose abstinence Like sugar and bread   I hear music in my head but do not play I hear songs but do not sing them out loud I write poetry…when I was young mostly about circles Now love and this stuff   I love to be shocked … Into new ways of thinking I am not fearful of what may be just what is I try to believe in 6 impossible things before breakfast But I eat late   I am loyal, loving and honest I used to wear my heart on my sleeve now I keep it under wrap Except for you   Your journey may take you to a harem in a desert of love You will eventually stop to replenish in water I will wait patiently for you to see me there With no reflection I will wait   Swimming in circles
0
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 1:05 AM UTC
A Clear Picture
The essence of the Universe somehow unfolds before my eyes in the way your body moves as your clothes unravel. You are my religion and redemption. The path to Heaven is hidden in shadows that cling around your curves and the space you occupy before me. The geometry of space and time lacks the means to describe the sheer beauty of you: naked, fluid in motion, determined and passionate. My soul aches to touch you as my senses are overwhelmed trying to interpret this thing we share, This Love unsaid yet all consuming. I kneel before the Font of Creation, offering kisses of Adoration in exchange for your sweet Symphony of Joyful Release. My Love, my Mate, my Salvation and Grace. You are my Priestess and My One True path to Glory....
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Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 3:06 AM UTC
Adoration
Moonlight feels like identical twins separated Nepthys and Isis shot across opposite ends of infinity Their mutual rhythm only sound sane with the other a rhyme to the reason because that is what art is Splitting lightening once the white shine bolts a crack in my spine hits the glitch in my automatic mask, to the world, and everything I can't hold in my head space Full Moon in Gemini so unwilling to compromise because of the gift and the curse to see both sides so vividly; intrinsically Since when has anything ever been set in stone without growing into another white lie floating in the mist of another form that couldn't be compared to this but rather another aspect in this There are no questions left to ask The High Priestess Everything I needed to howl at the moon pin balled back to me in the vacancy of desert skies Sand storm in my eyes until Judgment's horns blared through the illusion of heaven I created Your place in my life is as empty as the chair next to me.
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Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
Queen of Swords
(For Marg and Laurice, snake charmers extraordinaire) Like the Burmese priestess kissing the cobra I must never take my eyes off that steely, staring, coal-black serpent eye lest the fangs swaying in that unborn smile strike in the split-second that contains my salvation or my undoing. Lips always poised between heaven and hell, I advance on the servant of knowledge hooded with an assumed mastery, that hood branded with Nature's tattoo: Omega, the end and that flickering tongue that reads my body temperature could cut it cold. Cold as the smooth-bumpy reptilian snout upon which I lightly lay the final kiss.
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 3:46 AM UTC
KISSING THE COBRA
Bright child of the Tarot, a new age awaits you – but not through the mazes you’re wandering in. Your gypsy desire and clairvoyant excursions are setting your beautiful brain all a-spin. The dog at the precipice barks out a warning: the FOOL, the MAGICIAN and PRIESTESS are wrong Pay no heed to their signs and the omens around you – let faith be your shield when the DEVIL seems strong. JUSTICE, as blind as the HERMIT is ***** has seen that our TOWER is stricken and doomed. The SUN, MOON and STARS in their orbits bear witness as LOVERS  in ******* to DEATH are consumed… Egypt can’t help you – the CHARIOT‘s  stalled While the TEMPERANCE angel was mixing the drinks. The EMPRESS (a tedious feminist) preaches an upside down future, the HANGED MAN thinks… Though the WHEEL almost crushes you turning this way And the staff of correction has battered you hard I am sure you will make it, if only you pray to the sovereign elector who holds every card for a ray of redemption to light up your way. Let the major arcana now bow and acknowledge as  JUDGMENT is sounded and shatters the sky that righteous and just is the blessed Redeemer who loves every lunatic card-addled dreamer like you and like me. Therefore hear as I cry that the WORLD in its fulness can’t harbor His love – nor the heavens within nor without nor above… May the HIEROPHANT‘s dynasty wither away and the EMPEROR‘s  scepter be broken to shards as the breath of God’s Spirit comes into our world to reveal the true STRENGTH of your house made of cards.
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:50 PM UTC
House of Cards
Bright child of the Tarot, a new age awaits you – but not through the mazes you’re wandering in. Your gypsy desire and clairvoyant excursions are setting your beautiful brain all a-spin. The dog at the precipice barks out a warning: the FOOL, the MAGICIAN and PRIESTESS are wrong Pay no heed to their signs and the omens around you – let faith be your shield when the DEVIL seems strong. JUSTICE, as blind as the HERMIT is ***** has seen that our TOWER is stricken and doomed. The SUN, MOON and STARS in their orbits bear witness as LOVERS  in ******* to DEATH are consumed… Egypt can’t help you – the CHARIOT‘s  stalled While the TEMPERANCE angel was mixing the drinks. The EMPRESS (a tedious feminist) preaches an upside down future, the HANGED MAN thinks… Though the WHEEL almost crushes you turning this way And the staff of correction has battered you hard I am sure you will make it, if only you pray to the sovereign elector who holds every card for a ray of redemption to light up your way. Let the major arcana now bow and acknowledge as  JUDGMENT is sounded and shatters the sky that righteous and just is the blessed Redeemer who loves every lunatic card-addled dreamer like you and like me. Therefore hear as I cry that the WORLD in its fulness can’t harbor His love – nor the heavens within nor without nor above… May the HIEROPHANT‘s dynasty wither away and the EMPEROR‘s  scepter be broken to shards as the breath of God’s Spirit comes into our world to reveal the true STRENGTH of your house made of cards.
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The high priestess issued a religious order against us both, We were punished for being dearly in love with each other, They apprehended and executed the two of us lovers mercilessly. Our heads dropped down to the floor in a pool of blood, The bodies of ours tossed about so very much agonizingly, For my heart heard our connecting string break into two pieces. I was made to watch as the axe was felled on your neck, What I failed to do for all my lifetime with you was happening, Tears were jerking down my cheeks relentlessly refusing to stop. I felt that I saw your soul taking-off from the body, She appeared smiling and beckoning my soul too, Soon my head was severed from my body too. My soul joined yours and then on we are hosted by the temple, Now they have started worshipping love in our form & face, Fabled is our story of love & entirely unknown to all of them, Our souls still brew the hot coffee of love behind those altars.
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Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 2:20 AM UTC
Hot Coffee Of Love Behind Those Altars
Screaming your name into the winter winds, the emptiness its own reply Marked steps leading to a coven grove, faint crescent moonlight on the snow in the small clearing, round water, clouded starlight watch above Praying by a frozen forest pond at midnight The spirits of the trees acknowledge my presence in their circle I tell them I have come to see the darkest part of night Turning up my palms, opening my hands and my heart and my mind A human receiver, channeling the vibrations of the Earth Sensations directed inwardly outwardly flow into action Collecting branches and pine needles Leaving them at your door, the fresh scent of cool mint and sap Natural balms to sanctify a new reality Priestess, I am sorry. I turned my back on the faith. If only for a span, But for absolute belief, it took me doubt Doubt burnt down the church But the spirit still resides in our hearts, Shakti We felt the flames of the church on fire, we watched as the edifice we constructed crashed and burned around us Invocations of death and pain, I heard and felt the despair from your mouth, my love, a hateful sword ran through me then, and I could only stand still, close my eyes, and die, as it penetrated us Kali came to wipe the unreal away What is left? Benevolent Mother Goddess Redeemer of My Universe You are I am your equal Duad Standing together to face the world Building amphitheaters in the wood to recite inspirations derived from love Let me bring you flowers Let me be your hand Let me be a swan by your side Never leaving you again Dependent on no one Yet interdependent with each others entire universe Our voices merging together into a song By you, divine lover, this universe is borne, my mother, my sister, my friend You are my woman In woman is the form of all things There is no jewel rarer than you
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Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 11:41 AM UTC
I Came to the Forest to Pray
Screaming your name into the winter winds, the emptiness its own reply Marked steps leading to a coven grove, faint crescent moonlight on the snow in the small clearing, round water, clouded starlight watch above Praying by a frozen forest pond at midnight The spirits of the trees acknowledge my presence in their circle I tell them I have come to see the darkest part of night Turning up my palms, opening my hands and my heart and my mind A human receiver, channeling the vibrations of the Earth Sensations directed inwardly outwardly flow into action Collecting branches and pine needles Leaving them at your door, the fresh scent of cool mint and sap Natural balms to sanctify a new reality Priestess, I am sorry. I turned my back on the faith. If only for a span, But for absolute belief, it took me doubt Doubt burnt down the church But the spirit still resides in our hearts, Shakti We felt the flames of the church on fire, we watched as the edifice we constructed crashed and burned around us Invocations of death and pain, I heard and felt the despair from your mouth, my love, a hateful sword ran through me then, and I could only stand still, close my eyes, and die, as it penetrated us Kali came to wipe the unreal away What is left? Benevolent Mother Goddess Redeemer of My Universe You are I am your equal Duad Standing together to face the world Building amphitheaters in the wood to recite inspirations derived from love Let me bring you flowers Let me be your hand Let me be a swan by your side Never leaving you again Dependent on no one Yet interdependent with each others entire universe Our voices merging together into a song By you, divine lover, this universe is borne, my mother, my sister, my friend You are my woman In woman is the form of all things There is no jewel rarer than you
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