Sesheshet

I dance in the skins of sages,

sistrum in hand like Sekhmet’s harem,

gyrating in time to the beads,

blood runs like poppies down my breasts.

 

I scalped you in the gloaming,

pilfered the secrets of your skull,

then sewed back the flesh with

wanderlust, damning

you as a traveler.

 

You will walk in valleys of twilight,

quest after Lovecraftian beasts,

slay them with words,

don their hides,

smell of gore.

 

You will bear the fur of Enkidu,

walk the wild, be a thing of the

tempest, like Caliban cast from

his witch-mother, find no peace,

just bloody feet.

 

Your path is a thing of the angels

of whirling dervish delight

of madmen who have seen God

and laughed to death

at Creation.

 

Madness will call like a siren

its treacherous beauty aflame

to the beat of a bodhran

you’ll march, follow marsh-lights

to the land of graves.

 

In the necropolis you’ll meet

your maker, the dirt from which

you were called.  His tomb will

be nothing but moss, decrepit

stone, bits of yearning.

 

You will ask after all your travails-

 

And the answer to

your wandering

will be silence.

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Meditations on the Grave

I believe in all and nothing-

dark matter, photons, light playing on a lover’s lip.

Sometimes I think it would be beautiful to just sink into the earth,

to become one with the boundless sea, my veins roots through the sweet dirt

my flesh the life-giving soil, my food the ceaseless rains.

That all life would flood my soul, and I would become one with the ethos,

swim into a sea of nothingness, dissolve in an endless sleep.

 

Why do we thirst for more after our parting?

Believe in gods and angels, a heaven to fly to on fledgling wings?

We fear endings and finality, though endings

are the sweetest part to every tale.

 

Isn’t it enough to rest and sink into an eternal dream?

Plant your garden of souls somewhere beyond me-

nothing is eternal, not us, not finality.

Resurrection, ascension, reincarnation-

they ring hollow in my ears.

 

Give me a bower hung with wisteria, a jasmine-laden stream,

one moment in this final earthly paradise,

on a planet that is all we have,

one life all we receive,

one chance,

one time,

a single

dance.

 

I breathe.