I wish to embrace,
my children's faces,
with these eyes,
burning into memory,
their joyous smiles,
before the fading light,
is finally extinguished,
the dancing stars,
which are their own eyes,
remembered,
held closely,
envisioned,
but for the betrayal,
of time,
giving way to darkness,
and shrouds,
shadows they become,
but for the light of imagination,
and memories,
unforgettable images,
be still,
this disquieted soul,
allow the beautiful to extend,
words are as worlds,
a new place from which soulful expression,
is easily rendered,
imparting magnificence,
to beckoning followers,
and newly found friends.

I was good at numbers
I was called to count dead
I was good at loom
I was asked to weave shrouds
I was good at tilling land
I was drafted to dig graves

The dizziness shrouds me as fog around a hill
All images fade around as pills in me fill
Duty loaded nurses curse as cries **** the sleep
Poison from  planes in plains brings dark sleep.
All along the plains as the Lord of Wars in bars
Sit in fit  and guffaw as the savages  in  wars.
Eat they though  human flesh stinging hot blood
Savages won’t ****  their children  cruel as the flood.
Speaking much of holy Bible and holy Qur’an ,
We speak  proudly of Vedic text tells Love to man
Socrates and Plato died ,died Gandhi for the Truth
Even now we keep away from Truth lighted path.
Life around us moves now as victim of the drugs
Hence turn to Right Path , and save us from the crux.

I

Our ****** dreams, all seedless in the light,
Of light and love the tempers of the heart,
Whack their boys' limbs,
And, winding-footed in their shawl and sheet,
Groom the dark brides, the widows of the night
Fold in their arms.

The shades of girls, all flavoured from their shrouds,
When sunlight goes are sundered from the worm,
The bones of men, the broken in their beds,
By midnight pulleys that unhouse the tomb.

II

In this our age the gunman and his moll
Two one-dimensional ghosts, love on a reel,
Strange to our solid eye,
And speak their midnight nothings as they swell;
When cameras shut they hurry to their hole
down in the yard of day.

They dance between their arclamps and our skull,
Impose their shots, showing the nights away;
We watch the show of shadows kiss or ****
Flavoured of celluloid give love the lie.

III

Which is the world? Of our two sleepings, which
Shall fall awake when cures and their itch
Raise up this red-eyed earth?
Pack off the shapes of daylight and their starch,
The sunny gentlemen, the Welshing rich,
Or drive the night-geared forth.

The photograph is married to the eye,
Grafts on its bride one-sided skins of truth;
The dream has ****** the sleeper of his faith
That shrouded men might marrow as they fly.

IV

This is the world; the lying likeness of
Our strips of stuff that tatter as we move
Loving and being loth;
The dream that kicks the buried from their sack
And lets their trash be honoured as the quick.
This is the world. Have faith.

For we shall be a shouter like the ****,
Blowing the old dead back; our shots shall smack
The image from the plates;
And we shall be fit fellows for a life,
And who remains shall flower as they love,
Praise to our faring hearts.

Upward stare, dark sky,  I fade into the veil of night. Woven in dark heavy shrouds that blanket the earth and hold it tight.

My body rests on dew kissed grasses where the wildflowers grow..

My heart and thoughts with all I've loved and the life I came to know..

My essence now the starlit heavens, close and far away, and in the pink hued clouds of morning luminesce of  sun rays..  

In the rolling ocean blue my loved ones yearly see, when the cool breeze caresses their face you know that's where I'll be..

On my mothers garden bench she quietly rests upon, I'll be the sweet bird song that makes her smile even though I'm gone..

I just want to be an angel floating close by to wrap them in my love and hold them when they cry..

We are apart of everything always and forevermore, death isn't the end for us, it's just another door.

I’ve always believed in logic more than love,
logic lets you know when you’re a mule.
Using your head first means no one can hurt you.
The trembling clutch of fear falls short,
numbing cold-front warms and mobilizes.
Still, without contemplation I would die for you,
and would you expect less from your knight?
Someday I will die for you,
and you will watch with clapping hands,
applauding my selfless actions,
now still able to applaud others.
After all, you would not heartlessly
cast off your veil.
Even rocks and trees sing the obvious truth,
love shrouds all we know in darkness.

terrestrial siren call out
to me with your irresistible
song, ground me on the Earth
in the clouds, alone, I will go mad
alone without your melodies
to lure me back to a port
where I can furl my sails
and rest in your grounding solace

a song unlike the siren songs
Odysseus heard strapped to the mast
to resist temptation—he had only Penelope
while I have only you

you pull my ship back on course
away from the tangents I am prone

I want nothing more
than to bring
you aboard my ship
I know your telos
is rooted amidst the Earth
to heal and flourish
the ailing land
my telos to sail the sky
charting the heavens in search
of a key to turn the tumbler
of the lock to the universe

it tears my heart to be away
from your terrestrial song…

know: you will always be the port
where I return—for no reason other
than to hear your sweet song

one day, I will
roll my sails
un-step my mast
let the shrouds
hang loose
anchor my ship
permanently out
in the waters
of the celestial bodies

walk upon the Earth amongst trees, plants, and rock
rooting myself alongside you—ears open, listening,
solace in your song, in the port we built together

Silver ripples
Crinkle on the lake
Grip the paddles
Echo in the waves

Seattle rains
Fall hard today
But sunlight always
Slips beside the grey

Shine down
Through the clouds and funeral shrouds
Comfort us
Mortal beings on the ground

From the highest peaks
Come crashing through
Silver marble
Dive deep into the blue

Temple Hymn 7: an Excerpt

to the Kesh Temple of Ninhursag
by Enheduanna (circa 2285-2250 BCE)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O, high-situated Kesh,
form-shifting summit,
inspiring fear like a venomous viper!

O, Lady of the Mountains,
Ninhursag’s house was constructed on a terrifying site!

O, Kesh, like holy Aratta: your womb dark and deep,
your walls high-towering and imposing!

O, great lion of the wildlands stalking the high plains! ...

Ninhursag was the goddess of nature and animals, both wild and tame. She was also the goddess of the womb and form-shaping. And she was the patron deity of Kesh.

This page contains modern English translations of a number of poems written by Enheduanna:

"The Exaltation of Inanna"
"Hymn to Inanna"
"Lament to the Spirit of War"
and several Temple Hymns

Enheduanna, the daughter of the famous King Sargon the Great of Akkad, is the first ancient writer whose name remains known today. She appears to be the first named poet in human history, the first known author of prayers and hymns, and the first librarian and anthologist. Enheduanna was an innovator, doing things that had never been done before, as she said herself:

These are my innovations,
O Mighty Queen, Inanna, that I made for You!
What I composed for You by the dark of night,
The cantor will chant by day.
—Enheduanna, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Enheduanna, who lived circa 2285-2250 BCE, is also one of the first women we know by name. Far ahead of her time, Enheduanna reigned supreme as the greatest female poet until she (finally!) had serious competition with the births, more than 1500 years later, of poets like Sappho of ******, Erinna, Korinna (all three circa 600 BCE), Tzu Yeh, Sui Hui, Anyte of Tegea, Sulpicia, Zu Hui and Ono no Komachi.

"You have given wings to the storm, O Beloved of Enlil!"

Enheduanna was the entu (high priestess) of the goddess Inanna (Ishtar/Astarte/Aphrodite) and the moon god Nanna (Sin) in the Sumerian city-state of Ur. Enheduanna's composition Nin-me-šara ("The Exaltation of Inanna") details her expulsion from Ur, located in southern Iraq, along with her prayerful request to the goddess for reinstatement.

Beloved Lady of An and Uraš!
Hierodule of An, sun-adorned and bejeweled!
Heaven’s Mistress with the holy diadem,
Who loves the beautiful headdress befitting the office of her high priestess!
—Enheduanna, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Enheduanna also composed 42 liturgical hymns addressed to temples across Sumer and Akkad. She was also the first editor of a poetry anthology, hymnal or songbook, and the first poet to write in the first person. Her Sumerian Temple Hymns was the first collection of its kind; indeed, Enheduanna so claimed in closing: "My king, something has been created that no one had created before." Today poems and songs are still being assembled via the model she established over 4,000 years ago! Enheduanna may also have been the first feminist, as I explain in the notes that follow my translations of her poems.—MRB



Lament to the Spirit of War
by Enheduanna
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You hack down everything you see, War God!

Rising on fearsome wings
you rush to destroy our land:
raging like thunderstorms,
howling like hurricanes,
screaming like tempests,
thundering, raging, ranting, drumming,
whiplashing whirlwinds!

Men falter at your approaching footsteps.

Tortured dirges scream on your lyre of despair.

Like a fiery Salamander you poison the land:
growling over the earth like thunder,
vegetation collapsing before you,
blood gushing down mountainsides.

Spirit of hatred, greed and vengeance!

******* of heaven and earth!

Your ferocious fire consumes our land.

Whipping your stallion
with furious commands,
you impose our fates.

You triumph over all human rites and prayers.

Who can explain your tirade,
why you carry on so?



Temple Hymn 15
to the Gishbanda Temple of Ningishzida
by Enheduanna
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Most ancient and terrible shrine,
set deep in the mountain,
dark like a mother's womb ...

Dark shrine,
like a mother's wounded breast,
blood-red and terrifying ...

Though approaching through a safe-seeming field,
our hair stands on end as we near you!

Gishbanda,
like a neck-stock,
like a fine-eyed fish net,
like a foot-shackled prisoner's manacles ...
your ramparts are massive,
like a trap!

But once we’re inside,
as the sun rises,
you yield widespread abundance!

Your prince
is the pure-handed priest of Inanna, heaven's Holy One,
Lord Ningishzida!

Oh, see how his thick, lustrous hair
cascades down his back!

Oh Gishbanda,
he has built this beautiful temple to house your radiance!
He has placed his throne upon your dais!

Ningishzida was a deity of the Netherworld: he was the chair-bearer who carried notable persons to their destination. The ancient Sumerians believed the Netherworld was set deep in the mountains, so a mountain shrine was perhaps a "natural" for Ningishzida.



The Exaltation of Inanna: Opening Lines and Excerpts
Nin-me-šara by Enheduanna
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Lady of all divine powers!
Lady of the resplendent light!
Righteous Lady arrayed in heavenly radiance!

Beloved Lady of An and Uraš!
Hierodule of An, sun-adorned and bejeweled!
Heaven’s Mistress with the holy diadem,
Who loves the beautiful headdress befitting the office of her high priestess!

Powerful Mistress, seizer of the seven divine powers!
My Heavenly Lady, guardian of the seven divine powers!
You have seized the seven divine powers!
You hold the divine powers in your hand!
You have gathered together the seven divine powers!
You have clasped the divine powers to your breast!

You have flooded the valleys with venom, like a viper;
all vegetation vanishes when you thunder like Iškur!
You have caused the mountains to flood the valleys!
When you roar like that, nothing on earth can withstand you!

Like a flood descending on floodplains, O Powerful One, you will teach foreigners to fear Inanna!

You have given wings to the storm, O Beloved of Enlil!
The storms do your bidding, blasting unbelievers!

Foreign cities cower at the chaos You cause!
Entire countries cower in dread of Your deadly South Wind!
Men cower before you in their anguished implications,
raising their pitiful outcries,
weeping and wailing, beseeching Your benevolence with many wild lamentations!

But in the van of battle, everything falls before You, O Mighty Queen!

My Queen,
You are all-conquering, all-devouring!
You continue Your attacks like relentless storms!
You howl louder than the howling storms!
You thunder louder than Iškur!
You moan louder than the mournful winds!
Your feet never tire from trampling Your enemies!
You produce much wailing on the lyres of lamentations!

My Queen,
all the Anunna, the mightiest Gods,
fled before Your approach like fluttering bats!
They could not stand in Your awesome Presence
nor behold Your awesome Visage!

Who can soothe Your infuriated heart?
Your baleful heart is beyond being soothed!

Uncontrollable Wild Cow, elder daughter of Sin,
O Majestic Queen, greater than An,
who has ever paid You enough homage?

O Life-Giving Goddess, possessor of all powers,
Inanna the Exalted!

Merciful, Live-Giving Mother!
Inanna, the Radiant of Heart!
I have exalted You in accordance with Your power!
I have bowed before You in my holy garb,
I the En, I Enheduanna!

Carrying my masab-basket, I once entered and uttered my joyous chants ...

But now I no longer dwell in Your sanctuary.
The sun rose and scorched me.
Night fell and the South Wind overwhelmed me.
My laughter was stilled and my honey-sweet voice grew strident.
My joy became dust.

O Sin, King of Heaven, how bitter my fate!

To An, I declared: An will deliver me!
I declared it to An: He will deliver me!

But now the kingship of heaven has been seized by Inanna,
at Whose feet the floodplains lie.

Inanna the Exalted,
who has made me tremble together with all Ur!

Stay Her anger, or let Her heart be soothed by my supplications!
I, Enheduanna will offer my supplications to Inanna,
my tears flowing like sweet intoxicants!
Yes, I will proffer my tears and my prayers to the Holy Inanna,
I will greet Her in peace ...

O My Queen, I have exalted You,
Who alone are worthy to be exalted!
O My Queen, Beloved of An,
I have laid out Your daises,
set fire to the coals,
conducted the rites,
prepared Your nuptial chamber.
Now may Your heart embrace me!

These are my innovations,
O Mighty Queen, Inanna, that I made for You!
What I composed for You by the dark of night,
The cantor will chant by day.

Now Inanna’s heart has been restored,
and the day has become favorable to Her.
Clothed in beauty, radiant with joy,
she carries herself like the elegant moonlight.

Now to the Noble Hierodule,
to the Wrecker of foreign lands
presented by An with the seven divine powers,
and to my Queen garbed in the radiance of heaven ...

O Inanna, praise!

[Earlier Version]

Lady of all divine powers,
Lady of the all-resplendent light,
Righteous Lady clothed in heavenly radiance,
Beloved Lady of An and Uraš,
Mistress of heaven with the holy diadem,
Who loves the beautiful headdress befitting the office of her high priestess,
Powerful Mistress who has seized all seven divine powers,
My lady, you are the guardian of the seven divine powers!
You have seized the divine powers,
You hold the divine powers in your hand,
You have gathered up the divine powers,
You have clasped the divine powers to your breast!
Like a dragon you have spewed venom on foreign lands that know you not!
When you roar like Iškur at the earth, nothing can withstand you!
Like a flood descending on alien lands, O Powerful One of heaven and earth, you will teach them to fear Inanna!



Excerpt from “Hymn to Inanna” aka “Inanna C.”
by Enheduanna
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Great-hearted Mistress,
wild rambunctious Lady,
exalted among the Anuna,
exalted in all lands,
great Daughter of Nanna,
eminent among the Igigi gods,
magnificent Lady who gathers
the divine powers of heaven and earth,
who rivals even An,
mightiest among the great gods!
She who rules the gods
and makes their verdicts final
as the Anuna gods crawl before her,
fearing her perilous word.
She whose intentions confound even An,
yet he dare not countermand her.
She reverses course but no one knows when or why.
She perfects the great divine powers;
she seizes the shepherd's crook
and assumes command.
No one questions her magnificence, her preeminence.
Like a mighty shackle she constrains the gods.
Her splendor shrouds the mountains, makes crooked roads straight.
Her bellows fill lesser gods with fear.
Her howls make the Anuna gods tremble like reeds.
Hearing her roars, they hide together.
Without Inanna, An makes no decisions,
Enlil decrees no destinies.
Who questions a Queen who towers over mountains?
Wherever she speaks, cities become ruins and haunts for ghosts,
shrines become wastes.
When her wrath makes people tremble, the fever and distress they feel
are like a man caught in the coils of an ulu demon.



Temple Hymn 1: an Excerpt
to E-Abzu, the Temple of Enki in Eridu
by Enheduanna
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

House of the Ziggurat, sprouted from heaven and earth!
Great hall of Eridu, foundation of heaven and earth!
Deep-sea shrine built for your Lord, by the sacred canals!
Yours is the Ziggurat, the shrine that reaches heaven!
Lord Enki holds court in your House of subterranean waters,
takes his seat upon your throne!



Temple Hymn 2: an Excerpt
to E-Kur, the Temple of Enlil in Nippur
by Enheduanna
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Great House of the Mountain, shrine where destinies are determined.
Foundation of your high-raised Ziggurat, home of Enlil.
Your door beam is a mountaintop pinnacle, your pilasters summits.
Your base is rooted in heaven and earth, and serves them both.
Your lord, the great lord Enlil, the good lord, the lord of limitless heaven, the god who determines destinies, the Great Mountain Enlil, has erected his house in your holy court and taken his seat on your dais.



Temple Hymn 3
to E-Kiur, the Temple of Ninlil in Nippur
by Enheduanna
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

(Ninlil was Enlil’s consort and her shrine in Nippur was also called the House of Tummal.)

O Tummal, deemed exceedingly worthy by the divine powers, inspiring awe and dread! Formidable foundation, your radiance spans the abzu.
Ancient city, your marshlands remain green with mature reeds and new shoots.
Your interior, a mountain of plenteous abundance.
For your New Year’s feasts, you are wondrously adorned, as the great queen of Kiur stands as Enlil’s equal.
Your lady, mother Ninlil, beloved wife of Enlil, has erected her house in your holy court, O House of Tummal, and has taken her place upon your dais.



Temple Hymn 4: an Excerpt
to E-melem-huc, the Temple of Nuska in Nippur
by Enheduanna
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

(Nuska was Enlil’s servant and divine vizier.)

O house of furious radiance, wrapped in terrifying light.
Magnificent shrine, assigned the divine powers by heaven.
Treasury of Enlil, founded by the divine powers.
Worthy of nobility, your noble head exalted in princeship, counselor of E-kur.
Your rampart like a huge horn.
Your house, the platform of heaven.

In the River Ordeal, where great judgments are rendered and mighty suits settled, your verdicts allow the righteous to live but consign evil hearts to final darkness.

*

River Ordeal,
we require your wisdom.
Only you know, in your turbulent depths,
the heart of this maiden, or sorceress,
whether she is pure or full of mischief.
Thus we have bound her hands and feet.
Only you can free her, if she is innocent.
Surely the gods would not let us drown an innocent girl!
River Ordeal,
we require your wisdom.
—Michael R. Burch



Temple Hymn 7: an Excerpt
to the Kesh Temple of Ninhursag
by Enheduanna
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O, high-situated Kesh,
form-shifting summit,
inspiring fear like a venomous viper!

O, Lady of the Mountains,
Ninhursag’s house was constructed on a terrifying site!

O, Kesh, like holy Aratta: your womb dark and deep,
your walls high-towering and imposing!

O, great lion of the wildlands stalking the high plains! ...

NOTE: Ninhursag was the goddess of nature and animals, wild and tame. She was also the goddess of the womb and form-shaping. And she was the patron deity of Kesh.



Temple Hymn 17: an Excerpt
to the Badtibira Temple of Dumuzi
by Enheduanna
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O, house of jeweled lapis illuminating the radiant bed
in the peace-inducing palace of our Lady of the Steppe!



Temple Hymn 22: an Excerpt
to the Sirara Temple of Nanshe
by Enheduanna
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O, house, you wild cow!
Made to conjure signs of the Divine!
You arise, beautiful to behold,
bedecked for your Mistress!



Temple Hymn 26: an Excerpt
to the Zabalam Temple of Inanna
by Enheduanna
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O house illuminated by beams of bright light,
dressed in shimmering stone jewels,
awakening the world to awe!



Temple Hymn 42: an Excerpt
to the Eresh Temple of Nisaba
by Enheduanna
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O, house of brilliant stars
bright with lapis stones,
you illuminate all lands!

...

The person who put this tablet together
is Enheduanna.
My king: something never created before,
did she not give birth to it?



NOTES

The name En-hedu-anna, probably either a title or adopted, was apparently compiled from "En" (Chief Priest or Priestess), "hedu" (Ornament) and "Ana" (of Heaven). She was considered to be the Ornament of Heaven. Enheduanna was the first royal daughter known to have been given the title "En" in a line that would extend for five hundred years. Enheduanna would serve as En, or High Priestess, during the reigns of her father Sargon, her brother Rimush, and perhaps under his successors Manishtushu and Naram-Sin.

Sumerian literature is the earliest known human literature and the Sumerian language is the oldest language for which writing exists. Enheduanna is the first named Sumerian writer, and thus she is the first writer known by name in human history. She also read and wrote Akkadian. William Hallo called her the Shakespeare of her time.

Enheduanna may have been the first feminist, or at least the first feminist we know by name. In one of her poems the goddess Inanna kills An, the former chief deity in the Mesopotamian pantheon, and thus becomes the supreme leader of the gods. It seems Enheduanna may have "promoted" a local female deity to the Queen of Heaven. Might this be considered the first feminist poem? Was Enheduanna commenting on the male-dominated society in which she lived, and perhaps even "projecting" her wishes on male rivals, to some degree?

Enheduanna may have been something of a propagandist and self-promoter. Sargon the Great appears to have ruled over a larger empire and more people than anyone before him. Getting everyone to believe in the same supreme deity would have helped him consolidate his gains, since he ruled over a large, diverse and expanding empire. Also, by promoting her personal goddess to the position of chief deity, Enheduanna could have enhanced her own position, influence and power. To have been the high priestess of a goddess whom "nothing can withstand" and who "loves the beautiful headdress befitting the office of her high priestess" would have proved very convenient, indeed, in power struggles!

It is believed that Enheduanna's petitionary prayers influenced the psalms of the Hebrew Bible, the epics of Homer, and Christian hymns. Experts have noted that the Sumerian gods seemed more compassionate and more embracing of all people after Enheduanna, than before her ministrations.

Enheduanna organized and presided over Ur's temple complex, until an attempted coup by a Sumerian rebel named Lugal-Ane forced her into exile. According to William W. Hallo and J.J.A. van Dijk, a man named Lugalanne or Lugalanna "played a role" in the great revolt against Naram-Sin (the grandson of Sargon). In one of her poems Enheduanna prayed for An to "undo" her fate. (Was this before she wrote the poem in which Inanna killed An?) Apparently the prayer worked and Enheduanna was restored to her position as high priestess of Inanna. She served in that role for around 40 years. After her death, she became a minor deity herself.

Enheduanna is best known for her poems Inninsagurra, Ninmesarra and Inninmehusa, which translate as "The Great-Hearted Mistress," "The Exaltation of Inanna" and "The Goddess of the Fearsome Powers." All three are hymns to the goddess Inanna.

Inanna would later be associated with Ishtar, Astarte and Aphrodite. Inanna was the goddess of love, beauty, ***, desire, fertility, war, combat, justice and political power.

Amazingly, we have a depiction of the first poet/anthologist, because in 1927 the British archaeologist Sir Leonard Woolley found the now-famous Enheduanna calcite disc in his excavations of Ur. The disc is circular, perhaps mean to represent the moon. It shows four people entering the ziggurat of Ur. Inscriptions on the disc identify the four figures: Enheduanna, her estate manager Adda, her hair dresser Ilum Palilis, and her scribe Sagadu. The royal inscription on the disc reads: "Enheduanna, zirru-priestess, wife of the god Nanna, daughter of Sargon, king of the world, in the temple of the goddess Inanna." The figure of Enheduanna is placed prominently on the disc emphasizing her importance in relation to the others and, further, her position of great power and influence over the culture of her time. Enheduanna is larger and more ornately dressed than the men on the disc, speaking of her prominence. Her name is inscribed on the back of the disc.

Related pages: Sappho of ******, The Best Translations of Michael R. Burch, Poems for Poets

The HyperTexts




Keywords/Tags: Enheduanna, translation, Akkad, Sumer, Ur, Sumerian temple hymns, Ninhursag, Kesh, Aratta

As the sun set my heart rose
Soaring high above the clouds
A kiss like no other
Tore down the shrouds
Of doubt

As the sun set your heart rose
Looking in each other’s eyes
A kiss like no other
Tore through the disguise
Of pain

As the sun set our heart rose
Standing in the bad weather
A kiss like no other
Joined two people together
As one

my cousin loved to read and write
she said she liked fantasy better
she never understand the hate and fight
and i couldn’t explain through a letter

my sister said my cousin sang and sang and still could not be heard
and my mother said that in this way, she was a mockingbird

once i read a book that said
it's a sin to **** her kind
i told my father this one day
but he did not reply

she does not a thing but think beautiful thoughts
and fill others with wonder
and yet once she told me that if people were water
she would have already been pulled under

so how can i blame my cousin
when she tells me she hates these lives
because at least she knows there is no chance
of the miracle they claim arrives




*last night my cousin called me
i think she tried to say goodbye
but i could not hear myself respond
my mother heard me cry

i wish i could have stopped her
and i wish she’d had a chance
but instead she was a pretty mind
that no one gave a glance

a shadow of a person
a glimpse of sun behind the clouds
she was always half a person
she hides even now behind her shrouds

my cousin loved to read and write
and my mother always said
your cousin was a mockingbird
nobody listened and now she’s dead.

Love is an illuminating fire.
It lets you feel all the cracks in the water,
hear the shadows dancing around your eyes,
and endures.
Jesus loved us even after Calvary.
Love is a thick veil.
I’ve always believed in logic more than love,
logic lets you know when you’re a mule.
Reasoning makes you strong.
Using your head first means no one can hurt you.
The trembling clutch of fear falls short,
numbing cold-front warms and mobilizes.
Still without contemplation I would die for you,
and would you expect less from The Hill?
Someday I will die for you,
and you will watch with clapping hands.
I believe they will be applauding my selfless
actions because they now can still applaud others.
After all, you would not heartlessly abandon il tuo amante.
Even the rocks and trees sing the obvious truth.
Love shrouds all we know in darkness.

Within the sanctuary of a warm bed,
listening to the wind and rain outside,
I thought I could hear her voice,
faint and distant, soothing amidst the turmoil,
whispering to my soul,
atonement for the pain inside,
once upon an evening like this,
shall I hearken to her call,
joining her on the other side of the dark,
velvet shrouds of night,
reaching out and making me whole again.

3 a.m. and change
stumbled there again
extended beach and pier
a stuttered kiss and cheap beer

night's highest winds and shaken wharf
clouds swirl, trees shuffle, the night shrouds darker
for Earth, their giant, were left it's dwarf
counting constellations from its harbor
just drunk, humble
as berries of it's bramble.

I
Parting from the golden tinge that tears the azimuth
The red orb descends into the vast blue
Infuses a consortium of colors immaculately blend, an interlude
Between the morn, and the night that has to brew

A stillness engulfs the trees, the night dawns
The last rays sieved by the green leaves, swivel through
Escape from the small pockets, shimmering, marking their finale
Afraid from his embrace, light the path in lieu

Amongst the drowned colors of the night, he moves
Trampling the undergrowth, merging into singleton
And though his destination's vague, for others he carves a path
Follows the constant ire, within his heart that burns

And this began years ago, roots unclear
When fingers hadn't yet gained freedom from flesh
And a luring innocence emanated from within
Cuddled in his mother's ***** he rest

From a bedlam of impetuous thoughts arose
A symphony both bitter and sweet
Ridden with memories, some wounds and falls
An overture of edification he knead

Though the day he learnt to tame
In the dark velvet, white jewels they shined
A servitude of the dreams, trapped awaiting emancipation
He set them free, let them touch the open skies

Taught and steered by the ethereal sun
He embarked on a voyage into the unknown
Trying to steer into the path, nebulous that lay
Though comrades there were, he vanguard all alone

II
The patter on the leaves beseech him from the trance
As the faint drizzle makes its way through
The carved lines on his face that hide deep within
Underneath this hardened countenance, a figure unblemished, raw and ****

And then he sees Nature unleash itself
Her eyes gleaming red with rage
Irked by the persevering being that stands before
She vows to vanquish him failing the riddle she lays

"O fellow-being, I am Nature", she cries
"I have seen a myriad of men come this way
But few could pass, who could answer me correctly
Listen carefully O traveller to what I am about to say

Tales speak of a thing within with mysterious origins
Whose workings be elusive and indiscernible
But O my dear friend, it lays carefully hidden and though we can't see
It vivifies the moment, to make the next turn"

As her hair waves in an eccentric swipe
Like Hades from Hell, she tore
"Tell me what it is, for I forbid thee to go further
Answer wisely, so that I know that thy heart is naught but pure"

As he remains mesmerized, feet transfixed to the ground
The courage and valour he has loomed over so many years
Trickles down with the warmth and the cold sweeps in
As the bells ring, the symphony of the impending doom is loud and clear

The very earth beneath him quivers
With a thunder, as an eerie force pulls mountains apart
And these vestiges of time adorn and reflect
The cursed fire that ensues beneath the two halves

The covetous fires leap, advancing towards their prey
As the tumult above marks its arrival
With a crescendo, the storm imposes its anarchy
The clouds do its bidding, the skies they stifle

The exodus of the falling black rain
A blanket covering the sky, sheds out the light
The Satan's canvas anew, the impenetrable darkness pierces
Awaits the strokes that pervades the crimson into the night

As the mountains rise up, blot out the way
The vultures lay sprawled, their eyes, they shine
And these scavengers of death swoop down, sniffing, awaiting the moment
The hunger glistens in the pupils, today, to their appetite they dine

And he stumbles upon a rock and falls
As the storm vivified by the fire creates havoc
He lays exhausted, a numbed mind, though awake
And he witnesses it though the windows of his eyes that lifts his shock

Amongst the carcasses and the carrion strewn on the bloodied ground
Carrying the dead, the little creatures, ants, unaffected they stride
As they move on, compelled by an unfaltering force
Binding them, as they tread these dark knights

And he realises, what be these, these colossal clouds?
Intangible they may seem, it's the air we breathe, remain just misty shrouds
What be the mountains that stand on our lands?
Boulders they may be, remain just mounds of sand

Darkness never ceases unless one open the eyes
Like the wind only carries those who spread their wings
And the destination is never near until taken the first stride
Just as the tide only sails those who hold on to the mast's strings

Dreams shatter and hard blows we receive
Our eyelids close, wet waters they meet
But we look at the lily, from the depths of the murky waters, it rises
Basking, with a smile, the sun it greets

He speaks "Faith be the elusive power that exists within
Emphasises the goal in the turbulent times
Each human capable of it, umarked by religion or creed
Urges the torment laden heart to beat along", as Nature smiles

And with a single wave of her hand, it all vanishes
He stands before the place that his heart for eons has yearned
And the utopia unfolds as his dreams present themselves before him
And his eyes finally give way, to the tears he has for so long shunned

As he stands captivated, ebullient
Savouring each bit of the magnificent sight
The fresh fragrant air fills his nostrils, as he understands
It hasn't been the destination but the voyage he has prized

As a flock of birds chirrup their way through
And the wind toys with his hair, him they beckon
He smiles and with a lasting glimpse
He starts off again, for sleep has yet to come.

Beneath the moon's cold, silver eye,
She walks alone where shadows lie.
A girl with chaos in her veins,
Addictions anchoring her chains.

The beggar sat with cards in hand,
A gypsy wind, a whispering sand.
"The Tower falls," the old man said,
"A truth will strike, you'll wish you fled."

Reality, like glass, now shatters,
Her consciousness—no longer scattered.
A daggered truth, it tears, it rends,
As darkness gathers, old wounds mend.

She wears her past like ghostly shrouds,
A shadow trailing, black and proud.
Her demons leer with burning flame,
Eyes of guilt—they know her name.

She sees herself through mirrors cursed,
A jagged soul, her sins rehearsed.
Her reflection screams, a silent dirge,
And madness sings—a wretched urge.

She stumbles through a twisted maze,
Insanity in walls ablaze.
A labyrinth where screams rebound,
And all the exits can’t be found.

The sage’s smoke—an earthly balm,
Cannot restore her spirit’s calm.
For though she begs the world to save,
The map she needs is hers to pave.

No hands but hers can cut the thread,
No voice but hers can wake the dead.
Though black fire demons haunt her way,
Her will alone can break their sway.

So in the dark, she makes a vow,
Though frail, though lost—she’ll rise somehow.
The Tower fell, but she remains,
A storm, reborn from fractured chains.

The photographic chamber of the eye
records bare painted walls, while an electric light
lays the chromium nerves of plumbing raw;
such poverty assaults the ego; caught
naked in the merely actual room,
the stranger in the lavatory mirror
puts on a public grin, repeats our name
but scrupulously reflects the usual terror.

Just how guilty are we when the ceiling
reveals no cracks that can be decoded? when washbowl
maintains it has no more holy calling
than physical ablution, and the towel
dryly disclaims that fierce troll faces lurk
in its explicit folds? or when the window,
blind with steam, will not admit the dark
which shrouds our prospects in ambiguous shadow?

Twenty years ago, the familiar tub
bred an ample batch of omens; but now
water faucets spawn no danger; each crab
and octopus -- scrabbling just beyond the view,
waiting for some accidental break
in ritual, to strike -- is definitely gone;
the authentic sea denies them and will pluck
fantastic flesh down to the honest bone.

We take the plunge; under water our limbs
waver, faintly green, shuddering away
from the genuine color of skin; can our dreams
ever blur the intransigent lines which draw
the shape that shuts us in? absolute fact
intrudes even when the revolted eye
is closed; the tub exists behind our back;
its glittering surfaces are blank and true.

Yet always the ridiculous **** flanks urge
the fabrication of some cloth to cover
such starkness; accuracy must not stalk at large:
each day demands we create our whole world over,
disguising the constant horror in a coat
of many-colored fictions; we mask our past
in the green of Eden, pretend future's shining fruit
can sprout from the navel of this present waste.
In this particular tub, two knees jut up
like icebergs, while minute brown hairs rise
on arms and legs in a fringe of kelp; green soap
navigates the tidal slosh of seas
breaking on legendary beaches; in faith
we shall board our imagined ship and wildly sail
among sacred islands of the mad till death
shatters the fabulous stars and makes us real.

I see you, crouched in the corner of your
temple. I want to help you emerge
and uncover you from the shrouds you
have set upon yourself, but I can not
always be the roof in your structure.
I can only be a visitor, paying my respects
on occasion. You must learn to be your
own walls and pillars. Hold up your own
foundation, through whatever weather your
temple faces.

In a drearing height on grave dead bones of branch,
Where leaves conspicuously kept craven distance,
Forsaken lovers set about to roost on topple-
Down sprig to break each side of their own family
Tree.  With a clutch of ruff stones, pulled hardly
Rare, with green hearts a-glowing from gizzards,
They fed six hatchling harpies, all tooth and wail
But one, whom they feared would not take to tearing
Flesh and to them appeared a foundling, not a rock,
But some down weathered creature, without lift,
All weight and no sun, savage grace had shaped
A new bound Prometheus, still dying for sleep.

                                                         ­         Provided
At birth, with nest and wings, each lashing rigged
In wax.  My father, who from a race of lions,
A king and the last of his kind, built, whilst mother
Destroyed and she, the culling raptor, by incestuous
Murdering, would pick and scrape to clean the marrow
From our souls, preening, like a clip winged eagle,
Would screech throughout all season, suffering close
To the essence of faith, my father, who with her formed
Two halves of a wounded gryphon, un-noble in pride
With a bent on fatal flights of his own undoing,
Marveled at her eyes, gray and gay as accusers,
She cursed in sight of angels, all wings below
Heaven.

My brothers, exotic birds all, limbo dancers,
Preferring the colder climes, flopped after me
And never became fliers, for feathers to them
Were but fantails for a harpy, or for gathering
Dust or at best, something to support their own
Lying.  And I found myself, the mid-heiring brood,
In a state when the soul is after dreaming to its body,
Hobbled-de-boyed at the abyss and I saw through
That air and my fold, I dreaded like omens and echoes
Of extinction, like mixed messages of flightless birds
And managed to pierce the innards of ovate shrouds,
To spike that filmy firmament and the yoke, fell away
And the seep hole ground was spurting and the sky,
An ocean of bloom, in all direction, winked—
With a maelstrom eye, for amongst my family, full
Of strangers, I heard that soul lifting love only God
Could send, sleepwalking on thresholds of faith.

I awoke from a dream and felt that I could fly,
Not like the yearning Icarus but, like a rash
Of spirit or that Arabian bird— simply leave
This earth and make my way through its mantle, blithely
Fallow, shedding my harrowed bone, I dropped off,
Sprung from my ashen bed of down and rose—
Out of doors, splintering from the smote that cut
Down the youth of my days, almost smothered away
And I blazed above the icy coal pelted perch,
My wings spreading far from gross flames as they died,
Unfettered in judgements, scaled so feathery, they conceived
That weight was a lie and the waste I kept, from eyes,
As leaves, became a parish of open palms as I spred
My plume and breath now bore an atmosphere
And lungs, they powered the wind and streaming rays;
My frozen veins, burst, blinding an earthen sun
And fled my shadow, transfigured in flight, into
Being, some aerial creature— not a pure spirit,
But like a child soaring, whose wound was as a wing,
On the heal.

I had a nightmare of you
You will never leave my house
Or be forgotten by the living
My soul is haunted by your fantasy
My life quivers from lips and eyes
Can ghosts recieve emotion?
A plane drives us apart; tangible or not
Even a ghoul has its perfection
Ghastly I cannot perceive, lust is blind
Gossamer shrouds have left me frenzied
The forsaken pleading for sanity
Release tendrils and leave me grave
Condemn mine spirit to peace
She vexes the dead with promise of living
Instead I am cursed with but a dream

Rolling dawn to dusk across the starry length,
Spiraling circles amidst blazing orbs.
Held no memories of my stellar birth,
Nor tell vast upheavals of mighty epics.
 
Early shedding of original flames,
A layer of hydrogen was burned away.
Convulsions, diarrhea shrouds my youth,
A steamy cloak caresses my tender skin.
 
Around four billion laps before this day,
Life awakened in my ancient depths.
Poison polluted my outer coat, aye,
As oxygen poured from primal bugs.
 
Cycles of warmth and ice marks my crotch,
Evolving life, risking death, must adapt.
Such poor creatures persist beneath my watch,
I shelter them from the frigid void.
 
Toward the day of the dull red giant,
Even I am facing the gates of malicious wrath.
All shall perish under their final monument,
From youth, to strength, then wisdom, onto death.
 
Sadly, star dust tells no tales.

A silver film

Covers the iris


A brilliant abrasion

Shrouds the throat


A plight of lacerations

Cover the corpse


There was always

A cry for help


She was always

Drowning in sadness


But you never

Know what you have


Until It's dead and gone

The nightmare of falling
to an endless void
Risking everything to land on nothing
Reaching out my hand to hold onto darkness
But instead of pulling me out,
It pulls me deeper within
I close my eyes I see pitch black
I open them I see no difference
All that is gone and all that is dark
Nothing comes close to true peace but this
Fear shrouds like a warm blanket thru the cold void
And my body continue to fall
And my spirit ascends to paradise

j u
     s t
           t a
               k e
                      m e
                               a w
                                      a y

You subject me to the norms that stem from your fears,
your ignorance shrouds you from the generational trauma endured by the BIPOC community,
you continue to suffocate and silence the masses,
it is the color of your skin that reigns supreme,
however the same heart beats within us all,
a tantric hymn fighting for recognition,
so the world rises to have their voices heard,
to end the norms that are wrongfully placed upon marginalized communities,
for we will be heard,
it is well deserved.

It is a night of ethereal pain, a song of sorrow,
wolves vent their loneliness. The beautiful one
awakes.

Death shrouds her deathly form,
an everlasting desire.

Her inky black hair cascades over
fragile milk-white shoulders, and her
full scarlet lips part slightly, to taste the
life streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.

Now a night of ecstasy,
I weep.

It's people in the halls wondering
what you're thinking about
then being shocked when
reading stanzas is how they really find out
It's getting 3rd when you should've gotten first place and it's
freshman year when you finally got to second base it's
wisdom and laughter and pain and disaster
it can put you in here times, before times or after
I don't just want you to be heard,
I want you to infect people with words
to permanently stain their premature brains
But how to put sense into something so dense?
Some are tasteless, lacking variety
not their faults, just the affects of society
Born in a world where creativity is judged
yeah leave that hand go hold a grudge
no
don't let them tell you you're incapable,
show them you're unbreakable
We don't let anything stop us
--sexuality, religion, race--
it's time for ambitions to take their rightful place
Keep looking up
take down their shrouds
When down here it's too loud
put your head in the clouds
We can escape corners by ripping the box off
by writing stuff that knocks Shakespeare's socks off
It's standing up in class and saying we shouldn't be in it
I knew I was wrong but I went and I did it
I remember my friends calling me crazy and wild but
I know I only did it 'cause since I was a child I
knew that one day
I'd get to speak out
And I knew if I spoke, it'd have to be loud
And if I spoke loud it'd be in front of a crowd
though crowds are what I fear most
And I never thought I'd become your host
and I'm wondering what you think of me now?
But I just want you to help me spread
to show other kids who are stuck in their heads
that contrary to what those naysayers have said--
poetry
is not dead

(here is link)
https://soundcloud.com/iguessimbaileymartin/poetry-is-not-dead