"quetzalcoatl" poems
Summer struck with the fist of Chicxulub,
incinerated spring in a blinding flash.
Abruptly the pond on Chehalis Trail
was topped with water lilies,
where famished families of water fowl had
festooned the serenity of the surface;
now vanished for cool Canadian climes.
Racoon eyes peered in night shade green,
Foxglove and California Poppy brushed
through blades of overgrown grasses.
Crow song battled with Stellar's Jay,
the morning's true American Idols.
I stirred from slumber to impatient cawing,
chiding --- The best of day's awaiting.
I was off to savor summer's sugar,
lest autumn slip in unannounced
on the coats of Quetzalcoatl.
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 12:18 AM UTC
In the dunes, the dust raises a dirge
echoing in the nooks of Qardu:
prophet of the pasts, a ghoul
who led an arc on to the mountain
singed by the daystar where now,
men cut their hands to quench infant-thirsts.
And outraged women wail into the nights.
All for this? All for this? The anguished
song in the valley in an archaic tongue
that the Spirit stands surveying
that called out a fire off a bush, leading
a nation out of wilderness. Now, who
delight in murdering children.
The emperor of the world, is busy playing ball
offering the slaughtered heads to Quetzalcoatl,
and a beating heart plucked out
of a terrified infidel does not move him
as much as the stench of oil. Black
is the song of despair whispering in the smoke
blighting the reign of K'inich Ajaw,
all for this, Marya, all for this?
And the chief of Angles is dismayed, the
spoils of crusades blow back as young men
disappear from your homes, emerging
as butchers in black baying for slaughter,
journeying to the worlds end with
Gilgamesh along the Tigris.
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
see how I arch my back ?
I'm poisoned
bones do what they want
my spine is skeletal quetzalcoatl
as the one dash zero pattern commences
agile fingers shoot from the surface
now the new **** logic locks
onto hidden nutrients
the rising curtain
body of the dull hour
arms hanging about the roots
and the rocks on the electric river
they line up and burst in
sugarfruit unison
returning to exile with those
who had weathered exile with them before
we initiate the dream of a heartless choir
everything greased and ready to go
nothing crawls nor begs mercy from god
and we erected the temple of the wasps
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 4:58 AM UTC
The bones of this earth
grind down our fates
our hopes
our dreams
our lives
And a feathered serpent rules
over these climes
this western hemisphere
these Americas
have you heard?
Something elemental shapes this
world
and tempers our lives.
Unknown to most.
The old ones
the people who lived here before
knew him
Quetzalcoatl
Kukulkan
God of learning
Wearer of the wind jewel
the one who whispers life
and death
through his lips.
And you must drink it.
Alive or dead.
The morning star is his sign.
The evening star
his farewell.
He carries the sun
as a shield
and your fate
your fortune
as a good luck charm.
Listen and look.
You will see
You will hear it.
Whispers like water
from the heart
the skin
the bones of this sweet earth.
Listen.
You will hear it.
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
he came spitting fire
on a day like no other
tried to hold you near to me
i heard him passing over
he made a banquet for the stray dogs of the air
he put our love in clear perspective
blue, red and green plumage
trailing behind him now
swaddling the sky in its aftermath
the last day coming down
he made a banquet for the stray dogs of the air
he put our love in clear perspective
rising, rising, rising, rising
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 9:59 PM UTC
It's been a time and a half
And I finally understand
The reason you've gone
With the shaman so long.
The spirit is free.
I'm a color
Splintered in three.
Crystalline
Crystal eyes
Well spoken with diction.
Many a words I've spoken
Have been in ode
Romancing you with every breath
In the desert
The door is ajar
We trace the steps of Aztec gods
1/3 becomes 2/4
The sands gleam emerald
Our bodies elongate to equine form
We blended the horizon line
Quetzalcoatl stands before me
Serpent in feathers
Glows like the spectrum all together.
He hands me a seed.
And his
Eyes smother like lightning.
And I
Speak in codexed volition.
And we
Blur the horizon line once more.
I stand on the Pacific
20,000 leagues
Equine force
Carries me to the beach.
Sand once more.
I feel a twitch in my jaw.
Each hand holds a mandible
And pulls.
Roots emerge
And a tree not soon after.
Is this what the seed was for?
I trot the beach,
Jaw no longer in tact.
My pallor flesh caked in coagulate
Almost recreates my tan skin
A gift from the god.
I've been on this beach for miles,
And
Miles
And
Two whiles.
My architecture meanders
The brevity of sanity.
One eye sees black,
The other sees fine.
My hair has become matted
It knots behind each earlobe
And drags on below my knees.
Is this what Quetzalcoatl wanted?
To see me sifted with the grains of sand
In the palm of a child's hand
At the beach
While on vacation
With mom and dad?
20,000 years have passed.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
So full of life and laughter
The things of which I am sorely deprived
Are you a demon sent to torture me
Or an angel to show me my faults
If I believed in either it should be a lark
As I know both to be in existence
Indeed I am quite mad
There are infite creatures
Of which you know not
Do not doubt that which you have not seen
Just because you haven't
Doesn't mean its never been
Who is to say
That a Unicorn never grazed
A Phoenix never flew
Lycanthropes have not roamed
Maenads are simple handservants
Quetzalcoatl was merely a serpent
Ney, Not I
Nor can you I dare say
For if you could
By now you would
With clear and direct evidence
Solid as granite
Seeing as you do not come forth
I will assume you have not
Without mincing words
Go crawl back into the hole from whence you came
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 1:16 PM UTC
Aztec shaman
Summons Quetzalcoatl
In dance and jumps
Atop pyramids
Back arched
Soul bared
Awaiting to embody
The feathered serpent
Ancient gods
From the sky
Communication
Through ritual
The enemy's heart
Will pump in his hand
And slowly stop
As the gods consume
The life forces energy
And the shaman
And he
Are as
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 8:05 AM UTC
As a king I have walked
Through Tezcatlipoca
Where life is no more
Than their fountain of youth
Yet shadow and death
Is conquistador truth
In my heart sacrificed
For transcendence I seek
Quetzalcoatl
At Tonatiuh's peak
My Mexica will rise
To Huitzilopochtli
The lord of the skies
Makes Cortes desires become lunacy
By returning all things
Back to Tlaltechutli
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 1:30 AM UTC
Like young gods walking into the arena
Raven among the serpents
Quetzalcoatl of feathers and scales
This isn't a pride
This is a pack
A generation
A coil
A nest
This den is made for power
A bed for the young to learn in the solitary world
cc012119
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 9:34 PM UTC
HUNGRY PRINCE
It is the year One-Reed, and on this date
Lord Quetzalcoatl, from this earthly throne,
Long, long ago departed for the East,
And on One-Reed it’s known he will return.
PRIEST OF TLALOC
One-Reed: It is a fatal year for kings.
Our scriptures teach that when a murderous streak
Finds black Tezcatlipoca, lord of chaos,
On year One-Crocodile, he hunts our elders,
One-Jaguar or One-Deer, he claims our children.
But if he strikes on ominous One-Reed,
Death swoops for princes.
MOTECUHZOMA On that jolly note,
I open business for this syndicate,
Myself presiding. All may find their seats.
Now Tlacaelel, venerable friend,
What progress on the state’s scholastic front?
When last we met, the annals of our past
Were deemed due for aesthetic overhaul.
TLACAELEL
Lords, as you know, our eldest histories
Have painted base and barbarous accounts
Of our bewildered, wandering origins
As meek and muddy natives, which- though true-
Do not keep pace with our notorious present.
Those earth-born tracts have all been commandeered
And each one cast to char in heaping bonfires.
Ah, what a purifying blaze that was!
The inks of black and reds were rarefied
To sheets of flame and wells of fluid coals.
Now is our culture cleansed of heresies!
So far from mourning that scholastic loss,
The rabble whooped, and, singing rowdy reels,
Made merry at that bedtime barbecue.
And now, to re-devise those lowly annals,
I move that we enlist our liveliest dreamers
To craft extravagant and stately archives
And claim the pedigree that we deserve.
For what are histories but wrangling theses,
Or dogma, but the darlings of a moment?
So on this same authentic evidence,
Let’s breed imaginary ancestors-
Or ***** their deeds out- with a flourished pen.
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 12:22 PM UTC
MOTECUHZOMA
It is their chief that most perplexes me.
Send him my greeting, and convey to him
The gifts I have equipped for your encounter:
A turquoise serpent mask, a pearl-decked shield
With feathered fringe as gossamer as foam,
I’ll send the rain god’s legendary headdress
Of quetzal feathers, green as sprouting grass,
Fine, snail-shell collars, dainty golden bells,
A saffron helmet chased with dazzling stars,
Sandals obsidian-black- What riches more,
I have not breath in this old chest to list.
TEUHTLILLI
By your good will, I might unfold for him
The vestments which are worn by several gods:
Tezcatlipoca’s mirror, and Tlaloc’s jades,
Huitzilopochtli’s gilded helm, and such.
If he reach straight for the regalia
Of Quetzalcoatl- Well, who need say more?
MOTECUHZOMA
A thoughtful move. And, if not gods themselves,
They yet may be our wandering ancestors.
See if their speaker is the picture of
A homeward-bound, long-absent patriarch.
Especially take note if he admits,
Or claims, he is your rightful king. What more?
TEUHTLILLI
Should I purvey a spread of birds and game,
And mark how fluently he dines or not?
If he is from our far-flung lineage,
He ought to be familiar with our fare.
MOTECUHZOMA
Do so. But if, by chance, he shuns your board,
And does not hanker for such bill of fare,
But rumbles with a yen for human flesh,
Why, then allow yourself to be consumed.
I will ensure the welfare of your wife,
And guide your children.
TEUHTLILLI As you wish, my lord. Exit.
Jul 16, 2017
Jul 16, 2017 at 1:24 PM UTC
Quetzalcoatl, un hombre, o serpiente?
Cuál es el punto de vivir al frente?
Abandonado por una madre, Chimalma,
Un río se lo llevó con calma.
Persona sabía, animal feroz
Déjate ser guiado por su voz.
Toma un trago del suave neutle
Por el Golfo de México, alejate.
Sumergido por siempre
Renace como el mañana
Quetzalcoatl quiere decir
Serpiente emplumada.
Adoptado por los mayas,
Kukulcan, o Votan,
Cargado por chinampas
Que con el tiempo se agotan.
Su nombre real
Lo encontrarás al final,
Una profecía que habla
De la gran Tenichtitlan.
El es sabio, y astuto
Sabe las respuestas, y punto.
De la tierra al panteón,
En la estrella de Venus se convirtió.
Ixtacmixcoatl,
La galaxia infinita,
Salpicada de piedras preciosas,
Que con diamantes acosas.
Una escultura en tu honor creada
Serpiente con penacho,
Con garras de Jaguar,
Hermoso y diferente.
No tendrás ningún igual.
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 10:14 PM UTC
As gold as my soul as it slithers and shivers
And withers
To smithereens
First she was fire and ice at the same time
Second was burning wealth land with the moonshine
Deep as the sky when I’m high in the sky
Now I fear of no depths of the bottle, I ask why?
Try as I might to undo what I do
To imagine the tombs they await I and you
They equate I and you
They degrade I and you
And they make us see through what is not I and you
One more reason to fight
For a lefty theft right
To threat Tet upon agent’s of oranges blight
Splittin’ 3/5th’s a white
With arms-dealin’ pro life
Like it’s Jefferson smokin’ his whipper wind pipe
Diggin’ Ghraibs for his slaves in the back of a black site
Business is boomin’ like Truman in ruins
We trade magic mushrooms with animist humans
That’s just how we do it
In 50 state fascist Ford family reunions
Of clinically cynical gimmick illusions
Malthusian predictions
On stocked market shelves
Just as coated in sugar
As Keibler elves’ spells
British rebels who colonize
Liberty bells
Pledging sacrosanct vanity
Brinksmanship sanity
Phosphorous fire and fury brutality
Tyrant king lizards of ye olde feudality
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 11:12 PM UTC