"so far, it seem like a battle." - Yarth dictation

"the desert sand is desolation,
why you cover yourself,
is beyond my comprehension..." - pursed-lips whisper

prologue -

mutilations on every face - the arrest of furrows,
are lost fast amidst the cacophony of tragic lamentations,
she sat there in blood and tears, sprawling
on the puddle of a reflection/ conversing the moon
of her virtuous birth, the developing fruitful bosom,
then the subsequent stench of gray hovering above -
the virtues are rooted as she sings her derision...

Jealousy is your Eucharist

My lips will not part
it will not open
and let your white biscuit
slide down my parched throat

it will never allow
never, give in to you
and your transgressions
your tampering with
His lover, and how
Simon, how Simon
first came to scowl at Her

Invokation to Tubal Cain

Tubal Cain, send your fire
what's difficult is learning
that we're merely beginning
send your fire, i want
to taste it on my tongue

Introibo ad altare dei

Tubal Cain, send your fire
forge within me a sword
that will expel the wicked
send your fire, i want
to fashion a healing weapon

Ad deum qui laetificat juventutem meam

it can be found in worship

i become part of this vigil
for you and for hunger,
i become part of this charity
for love and for the better.

it can be part of reverence
revived through worship
enraged by the helplessness
moved by the hands of God

it won't be long before 
the clerics in the flame
appear to devour you
and things you stood for
cuz' you've provoked
my patience, my silence
you came and gave me
what I never wanted
you stole my babies
you raised your hordes
I can't recognize them
those full grown bastards
now my wrath is kindled
like the olympian flame
and it will kill you
and all that is between
it will destroy you
and all that you love

i become part of this duty
for faith and for courage
you're never part of history
of our edenic theory

it must be part of reverence
fueled by my devotion
touched by this last hope
moved by her fiery hands

so it won't be forever
before they come firing
hear the cackling growing
and the anger simmering
'cuz you've provoked
my patience and solitude
you charged in and raped
my mother and father
you robbed away my pride
flushed me in shame
now i'm bare naked and
only have once voice 
my fire wakes like serpent
it will race you to heaven
where you seek refuge
i'll burn down your shelter
and spread your cinder 
on my grave, in hell

The Genesis of Love

it is nocturnal, this glow,
a proverbial genesis of love,
deep in the slumberous cavern,
we kissed for the first time.

how familiarity was groped,
while our naked bodies rubbed earth,
an instance of raw carnal charge,
fleet through our chilled spine.

it was then you left a mark,
a curse like trailing shadows,
it left me devastated by tomorrow,
eternally chained to this moment.

remember, this is forbidden,
everything tragic is its result,
Fate promised nothing to us,
as we wasted away in its aftertaste.

while we take each other's dream,
in arms securing nothing but ourselves,
odd tableau of premonitions flooded,
undulating as a tapestry of sorrow.

it will ultimately whither, 
like our faces that grow with time,
and the myth succeeding reality,
you later become just memories

i remained angry at this curse,
frustrated by my own frailty,
unless you can stay on by my side,
and comfort me, even for this while

i accept nothing else now, 
withdrawing reticently and coldly -
while clinging on mercilessly to you,
before we drown, and fall apart.

lost in the forest

where will you go?

I'm not a lost child
groping my way in darkness
breathing the thickness
of the cold black night

I'm a friend of an angel
who has black wings folded
and eyes that assured me
'You're never lost here.'

I'm told that this path
leads me home to my mother
strewn with foliage green
to her tomb and her womb

I'm walking to where the
full moon whispers light
where her radiance greets
the poet returning home

I will go to the convocation of dreams

_{Auld Hill}

The knoll of solitude is not without a presence 
you can feel her, as...
she brushes gently a blade of grass.

the crinkled voice itself carried by
the wind testifies an older existence
unknowingly teasing the silent grove

she was one of the old Gods of the land,
the capricious lords governing the weather and 
the soil our fathers bleed their sweat on

soon we learn the mechanics of the plough,
then we erect the wooden fences and work 
our boundaries, caging all things wild and free

time submits her to our cruel hand,
we demolish her ambiguous poetry and 
allow rough hands to pollute her pores

she now feeds only the cynical poets
her green diadem fades to a softer shade
of sickly purple as she struggles to breathe

and while the rote seems eternal where
all faces are alien and unfriendly, deep
within the furnace, we still know how to cry

Baptism by Fire

Have mercy on every cruelty
mothers and fathers in this drowning of fire,
let your child rebel, 
for it is the only way out
the system has no commiseration,
I lend my shoulder to your sorrow,
let us put on our armour and stand
in defense when God's not here anymore.

Because it will be good,
because it will be healing,
because it will be hopeful,
because it will be peaceful.

Let us be baptised in the wisdom
of the universal spirit, let
us be purified in the duty
let us be crucified by the light
and at the end - love like 
hatred does not exist.

As we wait for the light
to stream forth and carry
out the final pouring,
I ask you to wade with me
in the darkest hour to stand
where we are against those
who will try to destroy us
for they cannot conceive love
for they cannot conceive courage
for they cannot conceive God
they only want you to be worded
they don't want your spirit
to be rewarded.

Have mercy on every cruelty
and let the light of heaven
shine into the dark waters
of the cauldron. Allow the
evil to dissipate as we touch
familiar faces and celebrate
in the renewing rain.

Guide me into his love

you cannot be imperfect,
those eyes illumine everything in me,
how it caresses my skin,
and crystallizes your love within.
Because heaven sent you to me,
his finger guides your destiny
we're part of this astrology.

so walk me into his kingdom
guide me into his love
guide me into his compassion
guide me into his mercy
guide me into his sorrow
guide me into his anger
guide me into his hatred
guide me into his charity
guide me into his vision
guide me into his clarity
guide me into his weakness
guide me into his humour
guide me into his mystery
guide me into his bounty
guide me into his darkness
guide me into his patience
guide me into his strength
guide me into his will
guide me into his glory
guide me into his failure
guide me into his grief
guide me into his purity
guide me into his goodness

most of all, guide me into you,
where he speaks through.

Hiwwah Kasia

a secret doctrine
once whispered

" The Veiled Lady is the
Queen in the Levanah of
your lightning path."

Who anoints and dwells
within thee?

The concupiscence 
Quintessence from
where the first
stir of the cauldron -

MOVE by her and be thou
INVOKED to the void
wherein my circumference
is by the constellation
of the draconian dream

Arriving to Love

the fields of blues fade for
the love that arrived
like pleasant smelling packages
adored for the obvious

it's so beautiful, nothing
compares to this moment
like tresses sway to the wind
and the gods dancing within

it feels so parallel, like 
stars will never collide
reality taste last night's 
unending moon-rich dream

it has all love,
it is all fuzzy,
a funny feeling,
I call it fey...
love is madness, 
love is fey.
sweeping, painful.
It rots yet bloom.
irony is her mother -
dying yet living
unbearably eternal.
it kills and
resurrects Gods,
touches and stones.
If I only know her
better, it can only
be both hurtful and
beautiful at once.
Like the heart that
stopped and lives
for another's beat. 




M for White Madonna

veiled and praying, 
lowly and chaste in cloth of blue 
immaculate and printed white solace 
gliding from the inner temple,
divine of milk-soft skin 
while colour lights transpiring 
every stain panel on heaving church walls.

you're the bride, the in-dwelling,
most reverently bleached, losing
every rose-like quality in smell,
taste and the breath of love.

abstained, sustained, regained.
your throne can never receive
my blood offerings, those sacrifices
that came with unbridled passions.

unfurling lilies by your feet,
surrounds your kingdom of luminance,
untouched by the country of poetry,
the causal piety is no more a silence.

daughters of your legions will wake,
flooding those despair years devoting
to another man of usurious benediction
with tears that will cleanse this sin.




M for Black Madonna

Sarah, Sarah, oh my Sarah,
dirty you are, yet still you're my Sarah,
I see strength in your arms,
I see the eyes glowing bright,
I see the festival inside.
Sarah, Sarah, holy Sarah.

Madonna, Madonna, oh my Madonna,
black you are, yet still you're my Madonna,
I see defiance in your colour,
I see the lips chanting rhyme,
I see the golden crown shine.
Madonna, Madonna, holy Madonna.

Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum.
Benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus
fructus ventris tui, Iesus. Sancta Maria,
Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus,
nunc, et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen.

Cull the tygers

dismemberment is an art,
a tragedy translated into
vain attempts by authority

you must be logical, 
you and your God,
conspiring everyday
demanding obedience...

cull the tygers, cull the tygers
release your anger on her
let this disgorge of emotion
destroy every pattern and plan

so we will all bow to one
monad who's infinite like God
like the god who fucked up eden

you must be practical,
you and your God,
promising salvation
in shame and conformity

cull the tygers, rip it apart
there's something spiritual
a reason for our survival
epithets on your justification

take the vehicle away,
and she'll take on another form,
like the dragon and the saviouress,
like a song, like a storm,
you cannot escape what you've began
you cannot run from her furies
the black wind sets in,
the thunder rolls between,
you know you can't kill her,
you can't kill her with your God...

let your beard grow longer,
you think you'll be wiser
those flowy gowns are nothing

you must be comical,
you and your God,
expecting blind faith,
veiling and covering.

cull the tygers, repeated fiction,
transform poison into cyanide,
who will drink your water?
other than the deluded, dear?

You -

You exerted your presence with brute,
I could only tear away your faces
You threw yourself into my cavern,
let me dye my hair red before I scream
You took away my soil of irish sorrow,
i'm shaving my head along with you
You raped my Goddess and taint her skirt,
i build another altar with her blood
You suffocated me as your veiled bride,
i still can curse with my piercing eyes

those trespasses will not invoke,
anymore anger than it pleases to see.
that which you took away from me,
i still have a voice written by a man.
regurgitated in a solemn ritual,
embellished by droplets of fire.
it falls like Jah's compassion,
baptism in the spirit of resilience.

The Pouring

all she wanted was a reconciliation
in some ways, a little consolation
never intending any sort of separation

Jah, for all the women
let the fire drown their pain
descending like salvation rain
purifying this putrid terrain

deep within the chamber of this season
untie the knots of his haunted reason
encourage this fire of her vengeful arson

Jah, for all the songs
let the tongues speak glossol
perfecting your new colossal
day and night of burning appraisal

come now and grant me this inspiration
torn by certain exits in self-passion
give this globe your universal vision

Jah, for all the new men
let your love compel my orbit
renewing perception and habit
allow this shower be your gambit

I will allow

I will allow the healing to take place
I will allow the chamber to be filled with light
I will allow your fire to inspire poetry
I will allow the grace to fall in my regions
I will allow the courage to forcefully burn
I will allow your wrath to punish the wicked

it has been so long, we are waiting for
the last chapter to be played;
so give us an indication, Oh Lord,
give us a little sign, before we resign

what little faith i have when I'm exhausted
beaten by my enemy, smote by hatred;
here I kneel in prayers, Oh Lord,
give me a little sign, before I resign

I will allow the love to root itself
I will allow the sowing of tendrils once again
I will allow your presence to lift the trodden
I will allow the syrup to flow into my mouth
I will allow prayers to raise heavens
I will allow your will to encourage the weak

Act of Contrition

Inverse, reverse, set things in disorder
the liminal crack has widen,
the void is where we return,
to her womb, to eternal silence,
to the castle blooming with roses,
spinning without motion between you and me...
and all these years apart,
you're Jah and you're my whore...
forgive me in my trespasses as I confess...

Bless me Father for I have sin,
Bless me Father for I have sin,
it is too painful to bear and
I need you to lift it away.
I've been seeking yet I found none,
what's your covenant my Master?
say and I shall return
say and I shall return
you're my father,
you're my father.
Lord have mercy
Lord have mercy
Lord have mercy
Christ have mercy
Christ have mercy
Christ have mercy
there is in finality, 
alighted by the holy spirit,
no difference.

written by simon soon © 2002

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