November 7, 2013

Magick and Diviniation

There is real and nonreal, this is both joyous and tragic,
Surpassing of both is the purpose of all creation.
When you alter them at will, it is magick,
When they speak to you, it is divination.

World of Smoke and Haze

As I walk through my wondrous garden,
I look out from behind my mask.
Here, I am my own warden,
Sadly drinking the last drops from my wine cask.

The garden, and everything beyond,
Is my world, is my creation.
All that is here, I have spawned,
The totality is my application.


I'm trapped in a maze,
This labyrinth, so twisting.
Like a pet craves praise,
For approval, thirsting.

I'm told where to turn,
When to run and to stop,
For freedom I yearn,
But I am just a prop.


What is your sin,
But a wisp in the wind?
An illusion,
Your soul becoming thinned.

Your ignorance,
Of the within, divine.
Is upon which you dine.

The Garden

A large, black crow flew over the landscape, surveying all below it. He was feeling pretty proud of himself, even without knowing why. He liked this place. He liked everything he saw. He couldn't remember how he got here, but that didn't really concern him. He was simply glad to be here.

It was when he saw the clearing, surrounded by a grove of trees and flowering bushes in a variety of hues, that he decided to stay. He glided down into the clearing and walked around. This would be his home.

The crow lived there, quite happily, but eventually he got lonely. That was when he decided he needed some companions. Perhaps some pets would be in order? The problem was, he didn't know where to find one. He sat there, on a branch, brooding but focused. He wanted to find a pet so badly! What could he do?! And in that moment, a powerful white stallion gently galloped into the clearing. The crow smiled at himself. Had he just done that?

A Worthwhile Journey

I've begun a journey, one that will take me far.
As I leave my home, here in the shadow of frozen mountains,
I spot a luminous pebble, white and blue,
A mixture of the snow around me and the sky above.
I place it in my pocket,
It will be my unseeing and silent guide.

I climb into the foothills at the base of the mountains,
The beginning of the journey is arduous.
I focus on the pebble,
As I lead it on this journey,
I also let it guide me.


The light from above cascades to ignite the flame.
The light from below surges to anchor the spirit.

They blend in a cosmic dance,
That bellows to the infinite
And whispers into oblivion.

It plunges us within,
So we may touch infinity.
It propels us to the universe,
So we may be cloaked deep inside.

The song of eternity shows us where we fit.
The droning of our soul reveals the truth.

How Long?

It pulses in the darkness,
and abandoned.

Deprived of air,
Denied love,
Despairing for life.

Yet it pulses on,
Embraced by the constricting void,
It bestows, but for how long?

The Dark Gate

The dark gate creaks open
A mere sliver
It has been lingering, unmoving
For eternities
The darkness oozes through
Glistening in the light
Dripping into my soul
Dripping, forever dripping
Never filling