Tuesday, 16 February 2016

Piety


Statuesque
Curves with hard lines
Sensual
And powerful
Proud
Undeniable

Atop a pedestal
Worship
Familiar and foreign
With those devout
And those who rout

There are those who use Her
Charlatans
Speaking their own gospel
As they bow
Surrendering to Her fertility
And beauty
With false piety

Alive in cold stone
Acolytes fail Her
Ones she praised
As much as they praised her
With a fire
Now ashen
As she chills
Wishing still

For the stirring of passion
Of disciples
Allies true
A goddess
Once regarded high
Alone
Distant
Removed

So Atlas lowers Her
From His shoulders
Her weight no longer His burden
She cascades into space
A final resting place

Ebony hair becomes night sky
A luminous aura, her eyes
Womanly frame
Accentuated by stars
A constellation
Without devotion
But now, freedom

She drinks from the dippers
Big and small
Bathed in starlight
Bare as Bathsheba
The world
Her thrall

They take Her in
Men of science
Romance
Defiance
She has transcended
Burning in the darkness
Her light
Illuminating Their night

Passive
Exhibitionist
Midst the masses
Cool, not cold
Far, not distant
In sacred eternity
Sharing a pantheon’s
Destiny

Embraced by gods,
Monsters,
Myth,
Legends, and lore
The stars
Not the earthen floor
Is where she belonged
All along
And forevermore

Artwork by Corina Chiril.
Inspiration provided by Eric Syrdal by sharing this musical piece.


Wednesday, 10 February 2016

Oppression


Entangled in a ghost
Becoming a demon
Knowing I'm not even a memory
Pain negating reason

I stay in bed
And lament
Restrained by an iron embrace
That longs to torment

It keeps me smothered
Eyes a pitch abyss
Light up when I cry
Cradling me in a fantasy I miss

When I find the strength
I crawl away
Get dressed & look in the mirror
Its reflection taking mine for another day

Hideous
Aware It's a mask
Becoming me
Emancipation an impossible task

More than skin deep
Within, It roams
Filling every inch
Making me Its home

It watches me eat
Taking my appetite
Devouring me with Its hunger
My misery Its delight

I diminish
As I give It power
Wondering as the seconds spill
If this will be my final hour

I don't need a priest
Much less an exorcist
Just release
A mass exodus

Still, I pray
For the resolve
To take action
Before I dissolve

As the state of oppression
From this depression
Turns into full possession
At my soul's regression

Artwork by Luis Royo