June 30, 2012

BLADES OF CHRONOS - Michael Stevens


 BLADES OF CHRONOS 


By Michael Stevens

Time , on the throne of chronos sits
The sisters of fate , by the loom seated ,heads bent , the threads of destiny interwoven
On Saturn's rings , vow of chronos , embedded
Time draws nigh like a blade , on the belts of Orion ,fastened
Sheathed beneath a scabbard of woesome tides
Beneath the stargazer's scope , between the aim of Sagittarius , Virgo bleeds
Gushing pools of crimson red , along the pathways of milk stained , roared Leo

Amidst the the thunder roars , and the flashes of lightening blue , tears from beings ethereal
Descended in droves , torrential , the skies , the battlefield beneath the heavens trembled as immortals marched in awe so transcendental
On gaia realms , the stargazer beckoned forth , his companion stood watch before him
Eyelids blinked and strained , into space , they pierced , drawing blood
Beneath the immortal footstools , earth stared , a lone piece on a universal board

Time draws nigh like a blade , on the belts of Orion fastened
The past , stares from behind , from shadows bleak
The present , here and now , evades heart , desires mounting
The future , from our sights obscured , holds doubts and fears
The blades of chronos wielded , the sound of destiny , echoes
Lines of battle painted , on the pitch of destiny , cries of war resounding with each clash of immortality

The blood moon resurrected , the star gazer stares , steadfast in his post
Rays of the gold approaching , eyes squinted ,balanced only by the beams of silvery red
The moon stood in perfection , facing the rage of the crimson king
Gaia marvels , time halted in their fiery embrace
The king , his queen , an ephemeral union of ethereal perfection
The scales of Libra , all but tilted in favor of creation
To this union , a libation poured , from Aquarius' jars

Time draws nigh ,like a blade on the belts of orionn fastened
Un-sheathed as chronos struck in pain , the union ,forever divided
Meteors of pain hurled through the night's sky , galaxies with rage filled as night and day spawned
tears ,down crimson cheeks roll , gaia trembled in quakes , beyond control
The crimson king hath been defeated
Chronos' blades sheathed , its power unrivaled , existence redefined
There is no end to this
Leo forever roars
The virgin bleeds still
From the jars of Aquarius , libation pours eternal
Gaia forever drenched in its wake
And the star still gazes in awe

Time draws nigh , like a blade on the belts of Orion fastened .

~Michael Stevens ~

June 1, 2012

An Un-despised Hymn - Peter Atta Brown

~~ an Un-despised hymn ~~

         

 ~~   After the visiting spirits had gone  ~~
                 and the purifying dews ceased their
                            sprinkling at dawn,
                  I picked my life fom the ground
                  like a dropped apple,deserted
                         by it's weary branch
                                     and
                            I  whispered
               an undespised hymn in consolation,

               uncurse the tears you have wasted 
           over fruitless years with coward hearts
                   and regret not the toils that
                       brought you no reward
           
               Forgive yourself all the troubles 
       that tease your memory openly like a clown,
                                   for
               the World itself does not know
                         where to stand,
                              whether
                      to be a cunning fool
                                    or
                           a witty cynic,
                              whether
                  to be a friendly hopping
                            tamed dog
                                   or
                             a smoke 
                     puffing deadly bull 
                             in a circus.

                   Belittle no chance over 
                         pain or pleasure,
                                  rather,
                      in a thirsty patience,
                             desire both
                                   with
                   hugging arms   and feet,
                          taste and spit
            if so be it that your soul be sanctified,
                                 this way,
                  you shall celebrate the 
                      breath held in you,
                                  and,
                 appreciate the suffering 
                    death promised to all 
                  ~~ at the tiring end.~~


atta brown

  (c)copyright 2012
peter atta brown

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