Lust of the Daughter of Sekhmet

Here I Am

walking in the desert

daughter of the lion-headed goddess

marked by her flaming hair

Her hot winds

have burned up my caution

sent my sanity up in steam

I am drunk with heat

mad with passion

Here You Come

as rain

plump, hard juicy drops

beating down on my fevered body

bursting open

and dripping down my skin

Why shouldn't I dance in the low country?

Why shouldn't I shed my clothes?

Why shouldn't I revel and relish?

Why shouldn't I bathe and frolic?

why wouldn't i drink my fill of you and

puuuuuurrrrr

?

Brief note on Perspective

If you walk through life using the shaky rationale of "caution," or "self-protection," to justify why you choose to look at every glass as half-empty, all the while hoping to be pleasantly surprised, chances are that you won't be. Lose the candy-coated fear, and realize that you must change your perspective to change your experience. It is a rare occurence for it to happen the other way around.

xoxoxo

Brief note on Passion

True passion is marked by the presence of pure, unavoidable vulnerability. The possibility that the object of your desire/love/inspiration could be lost or change fundamentally always exists. If this happens, you will be equally as devastated as you once were passionate.

However, this does not make passion a weakness or a character flaw. In my opinion, those who are determined to experience the best in life actually pursue it.

we are that we are

it is significant
that the god of the Hebrews
never gave himself a name
he didn't want to be boxed in

*

but look what we have done
how we have changed in the 50-odd years
since we sat down at the table
and said
"here's what you can call us"

would've rather they kept calling us the boogieman
it's easy to know that you're not that
and keep creating your own image
keep evolving
keep being yourself

but they needed a name for us
and we wanted to be called
and so we gave them the secret
things we thought it might be nice
to hear

but each one turned foul in their mouths

we kept trying

*

god knows
that when the name of a holy thing
is spoken
its magic is taken out
the breath of its life is sucked back out into the cosmos
and the moisture evaporates
it loses fluidity

and so
the beautiful mud people
have hardened into
dry clay
baked under the harsh gaze of voyeurs
definers

*

we are no longer ourselves
stuck in poses
like statues
names on placards
explained in a paragraph
for passers-by

we have lost our lives
but we are not dead yet
and now
when they call us the boogieman
(though never to our faces)
we choke on wondering
is it true?

*

Fantasy of the Day 10/19/2011

I want to go to the market before sunset, and see the mats glow like felled rainbows, colorful produce made brighter and more tempting by the orange-pink rays of the hour. There I will find the woman with the long skirt, eyes glittering, kneeling before her offerings. At first, her face will seem dusty and sour from a full day of work so close to the ground. But then she will smile, and teeth that are surprisingly white will set her whole face inside the halo of the ancient Mothers. She will dazzle me with her beauty. I will kneel, meeting her eyes with mine, and ask for the fruit that hides under the protection of her skirt. She will cut her eyes a bit, but joyfully. "You have chosen well, daughter," she will say in a language locked to my ear but open to my soul, as she hands me the plump scented thing. She will overcharge me, and I will pay double her price; this is all I wanted. I will walk home, grinning, with the most sensuous mango I have ever encountered wrapped up in linen like a jewel, and we will both be satisfied. Her spell ending, and mine beginning...

The Land of Sapiens

it is extremely humid
here
impossible to breathe
being swallowed up
in thick vapor
and stepping
into grayish-pinkish
slimy
quicksand
sinking down into
higher thought

how nice to be
human
what a miracle
to be able to
think

there are no wheels turning here
no perfectly placed
spokes and axles
no gears
there is no order here
just synapses
firing wildly
electric storm
dangerous hyperanalysis
obsessive compulsion
that we credit
with
creation

how lovely
to reign
superior

there is no light here
only pictures seen
in the dark
illusion

we have created a world
in our image

this is our fate


the others
they do not
wish
to be wise

the priest

i watched him set down his glass

as the ice melted
the second cat's-eye lid rolled back
and i realized why i had been trying
to put my spell on him

i watched him
bum a cigarette from
the woman at the end of the bar
he thanked her too kindly
and i realized
that he had gotten to me first

that bastard
the priest

walking me outdoors for fresh air
speaking to me of visions and
peace
all the while tending
my desire

the spirit
in his eyes dancing
around the fire
in mine
offering itself up for consumption

i glowed brighter under
the street lamp
as he hailed me a cab
kissed my cheek
softly
grazing my back with his thumb
he said goodnight

bowed his head in recognition
watching as the driver pulled off
then turned and walked quickly
away

***

i am certain he is returning
to the woman at the bar

but i
surely
will have the best of him

sometimes once

sometimes
magic only works once

it is the same with faith
and love

do not be fooled
by the false law of constants

sometimes
once is all you need

enlightenment

when the night falls
and secrets peek out from behind the dark sides
of bold green leaves
fireflies

i can almost see
the order of the universe
blinking in close-encounter
morse code

god talking
little lights
big darkness
trading wonders back and forth
dancing between creation
and undoing
enjoying each others' company

enlightenment is such a small part of the scene
but still so beautiful

The Gospel of R.

I have a feeling that the two great forces of the Universe are somewhere up/down there, inside of and encapsulating us, beyond everything, dancing to "Step in the Name of Love," singing along: "If they ask you why we did it, tell 'em we did it for Love!" and laughing and twirling around and around, separating and bringing it back... :)

i want ecstasy

i want to expand so wide
that i can swallow the sky
feel the stars burn in my belly
warming me
for a nap

i want to shrink so small
that i can fall down through the earth
rolling
bouncing like a pinball between particles of dirt and sand
down through the hot core
and through the other side
then floating, flying
carried out into the cool blue universe
by the wind of the moon's revolution

i want to drink soma

i want to whirl and whirl
until i disappear
and become everything at once

i want to die still living
my new path revealed
by the light of 1000 glowing lamps

i want to dance with a king
before the belly of the Goddess

and i will only walk with god
if i meet him on the path
to the Heavenly Gates
even then
i go my own way

circles of passion

sometimes i think
that i am an artist
because i never got over my first love

because i never forgot my soulmate

because i can't let go of you

i've never really stopped believing in love

and inside circles of passion
thoughts
beauty
are the only places that someone like me
can feel sane

there i am the Lover and the Beloved
i am whole

Strongholds

I slept for 16 hours
poured out all my demons
into dreams of the liquid night
their absence greeted me
upon waking
feeling so skinny
fragile
this is what it means to be new
this is what it means to start again
this is what it means to be free
one strong wind
from being taken up into the sky

I slept long
let go all of my strongholds
but which of them have returned already?
those that are my mothers
those that are my grandmothers
those that are my sisters
and my beloveds
see the goddess in my eyes?

they know what it means to get up and walk

and we'll walk the earth
together
until we get back there
to the ocean
to the dark nothingness
to the place beyond heaven
and earth
to sleep

This August

This August
weather
has been changing more rapidly
than i like.

it's like fall
but i had wanted to sweat for visions
one more month.

and She said "no. cool yourself."
and i cried and cried

until the water did indeed cool me
and we became one
cool and wet
changing thing.

yin's journey to the underworld

My love
my friend
why do you make a mockery of me?

I will not be denied
My Rites
as Goddess
Yet you have come to me unprepared?

Where then, shall I go
my love
if i am to continue to feed you?

Surely you won't deny me
will you
will you?
knowing that you traded the sacrament for lust
and dealt with my daughters as whores?

And so
though the heart's love binds us
the fullness of the life force
withers
between our roots

My love
my friend
When you wake
alone
and the give this memory -
of me, speaking to you
your own thoughts shrouded with my voice -
up to the blinding light
Know this: that it is you who broke the vow.

and do not be angry with me when i am gone

For when i return
i will be red and ripe and flowing
with the stuff of life
that can heal you
Reconsecrated.
and i will try to resurrect you
once again

5th Chakra Blues

I would have asked you
to go down and sit by the lake
with me
But you were too busy

I would have asked you
to come and read to me
from the book of love
But you were entertaining friends

I would have asked you
to be more tender
would have shown you all there is to know of me
and told you all of my secrets
But you went home

I should have asked you
i should have asked you...

But now my heart has run away from us both
And it may be too late...

simple Truth

I think:

Each person has their own reality. However, there is only one Truth; that's what makes it Divine. It's creation (and non-creation) as God/dess sees it.

An individual's reality is determined by their biases and emotions - it is their perspective on Truth as viewed through the lens of their life experiences. In order to come in contact with pure, simple Truth, we must rid ourselves of self-specific distortions and distractions. This might be what many of the world's religions are talking about: purifying the mind, freeing oneself of the body and the physical world, etc.

Anyone who has come in contact with the Truth at any point should consider themselves highly blessed. I'm led to believe that it's not a common occurrence. It is a struggle trying to get back to that point, and I imagine it's even more difficult to maintain it as a constant state of awareness. And perhaps the latter quest is where many of us Truth-seekers go wrong. Maybe it is difficult to be in constant contact with the Truth for a reason; maybe it's not the experience intended for us while on Earth.

An old friend and mentor suggested to me, recently, that most of today's priests/priestesses (keepers of timeless, divine wisdom) are "hiding in the world." They are ordinary people, and more often than not aren't well-known religious leaders. They don't care if you drink or smoke or curse, and may even partake in such "unseemly" activities themselves. They know the secrets, and yet, they're really not sweatin' it.

Why? Maybe it's because they've realized that their relationships with Divinity don't rest on them dwelling in that pure, holy state of mind all the time. If you ever truly find it, Truth is not something you can lose - it is accessible at all times, from any juncture in life. It is the one pervasive, all-encompassing vision that exists. Isn't that the beauty of the Divine? It is wherever you are...

So we don't have to struggle to maintain a sense of spirituality that's based on neglecting the human experience. We can be here, on Earth, in our bodies, alive with pleasure and pain (neither is a sin). We can vacillate between our high and low chakras/minds/selves as needed in order to come into the fullness of human life and potential. And we can be assured that, no matter where we fall on the spectrum at the moment, Truth and the Divine are always within our reach.

Red Tea

the Moon shines in on my longing

the writhing
the stretching
deep breathing and
soft belly, trembling
as The Wanting simmers inside

i crave something sweet
rosebuds, steeped, with honey
and that you will come
and speak to me
and touch me like a woman
fill my cup with your nectar

Wise traveller,
Sweet alchemist
bearing both flowers and water
I possess your missing elements

you can have them
if you come
sit with me

help me heal my anger
and i will help you shed your sadness
please, come
and cure this madness
under the Moon

the Affirmation, the Key, the Resurrection

It's dangerous
this assumption
that all things are like other things
because most things
are alike

an assumption
within an assumption
the foundation of modern thought


standards
are our Kings
not elected officials
dictators, conquerors
or even God

they are not large
but legion
ruling as brothers
threatening torture with tiny daggers of shame
at least one for every detail of our lives

invading
ruthlessly

but the Wise Woman gave me a thought
a charm to keep them at bay
"twins can have two different souls
while perfect strangers
can share one"

Ah, but there is no standard for souls
which is why the evil ones
make us deny them
or lock them away
or kill them.

She said "every day is a blessing"

It is shameful
to use the Truth
as an excuse for dying

For Truth was wed
to Life
at the dawn of creation
But you,
with good intentions,
have made her your slave.
Dressed her up in the
finest
calico.
(well-worn but durable,
sewn strong by the hands of Ol' Regret)
You laced her up tight
in that garment.
And took her to Death's door.

payment for a debt.

He did not hesitate.

Now, Truth
wrung dry and wretched
is tormented.
She can never know Life again.
And there is only one way out
of this
calico hell.

She prayed
for forgiveness
And for the memory of Life to
keep her breathing long enough
To feel the silencing of Death's seeds in her belly
Twins:
Resignation and Mediocrity
She plucked the herb
And ate it whole.

Pale and cloaked,
Life stands over the grave.

Untitled (Inspired by For Colored Girls)

Your laughter
Her clasped hands white knuckled
That woman's chatter
reckless spilling of excess words
trying to explain
away...
Her defensiveness
Her powerlessness
And all of them in me
force the question:

What if we decided
to tell the truth about ourselves?
What if we trusted each other enough
to be honest?
What if we found God in ourselves,
and gave up pretending
Pretentious
Fairy tales of Righteousness?

Gave up the hiding game
masking our hurt with designer outfits and degrees and hobbies
Church functions
and relationships and Righteousness?
Gave up clenched teeth
holding back screams

***

We are alive
Because nobody ever told us that death
was an option

Life
is a choice

but we are slaves to it.

***

Centuries
spent wading through
Dark and freezing cold
slimy bogs of
Hands

Strong Hands grabbing at my ankles
but i don't look down
i just pull and tug and
twist and kick and FIGHT
until their grips slips long enough for me to
take that next step.

that next vital step
is all i want
all i was placed here for
why? toward what?
that next step is my reason for struggling
my reason for fighting
my reason for being
alive
i must continue
to be alive
keep moving... keep moving
keep... moving....

***

clenched teeth holding back the screams

meanwhile those
hands
attached to bodies with hearts
that stopped beating
bulging eyes
drowned alive
held under water
ignored

those hands
dead now, but still moving
for mouths, wishing they had screamed
moving
needing you to acknowledge
their existence
their struggle
their fight
that is their reason now
to keep grabbing
keep pulling
keep moving... moving
but they are not alive.

And your clenched teeth holding back their screams
do none of us any good.

trying to be a lady
trying to march onward
trying to maintain your sanity
in a bog of pain!
too busy preserving your Righteousness
to let yourself go
down with them
into the bog

go
look your pain in its bulging
eyes and let it embrace you
love it back
let it whisper to you
and remind you of the things
that you know
look into your dead self
and choose to live

No more clenched teeth
Smiling propriety
No more worries about being loved or left or ladylike
No more high roads up back-breaking hills
or self-suppression in the name
of being the bigger person
No more laughing at jokes that debase me
or just plain aren't funny
No more soft words and averted
eyes as shards of reality wielded by a Bold spirit
pierce me and
beg me to curse and scream and cry
No more false choices, or concealed options

No more swallowed moans
turned into heart-wrenching hymns
That someone called 'spiritual'

And it is
Pain is Spiritual
but it is also inevitable
not meant for the cause of your Righteousness
The lie we tell ourselves
That fairytale we created to
explain away the pain
to make existence worthwhile
To ease the sharp absence of 'why'

It didn't happen because, baby
Not because you needed to be
Stronger
Wiser
or more compassionate or mature or humble
It didn't happen to transform you into that silhouetted
Black Female Face
closed eyes closed lips
ears muffled under hair or hat or wrap
always tilted up toward
the sky...
Righteous
silent strength
clenching back screams!

It didn't happen because, honey
it just happened
And you are still Whole
Don't be so shocked by this
because you've always been Whole
The day you were born and centuries before
You were Whole
And you will always be Whole
And you can never be made un-Whole
You can only ever be made more Whole

So scream!
Curse and cry and kick!
Stop taking all of that shit!
Yes, they praise you for carrying
their burdens on your shoulders
But it's time you realized
that's a damn trick!
And that your strong back and good teeth and quick mind and
fertile womb and creativity and healing powers
and love
don't have to be for sale
anymore!

***

Maybe,
if I would just
tell the truth about myself
I wouldn't feel so misunderstood.
And maybe if I really believed
in love
I could draw it to myself
just being myself.

And perhaps if
I gave up the act
I would gain the key to
Everything...
The Wholeness
The Holiness
of Myself
Released