A Touch of Ishtar

“I can read your palm.”, said she
as he drew nearer in the night.
He smiled at that,
Laid his hand bare
For her all knowing eyes to see.

She held it gently…
Almost tender-
And spread his fingers
open wide,
And told him secrets
of his life
Enclosed within his
prisoned mind.

He stood, amazed,
As he too gazed
Upon his naked hand.
That this strange woman knew him
(outside in)
was more
than he could stand.

“Witch!”, he cried, “Sorceress!”
“How is it that you see what none
have ever seen before?”
“How is it that
you’ve pierced my soul,
my hand
your only door?”

She stared at him in silence
With ancient eyes that smiled,
And then did speak,
“My son, you knew
the moment that my hand
touched yours,
that all men are my only child-
Since the dawn of age
And time
All men are my child….”

Awakening

Awakening

Feet rotting in the ground.
Straining for a Savior.
Eyes fixed towards the heavens.
Well, there’s nothing there
but Fire.

Don’t you know salvation
is the fusion deep inside?
Blazing there,
It’s waiting there,
for you.

Breathing knife edged cold...
see your mind.
The stillness that you find
is truth.
We’ve done this before,
traveling those gritty sands.
Wake up from temerity.
Abandon the addiction
you’ve clung to
all your life.

Revolutions spinning
Nature’s tumbling wheel.
Put your finger on it.
‘cause silence isn't golden.
We’ve done this since amnion,
Stumbling…stubbing toes.
Take my hand and fold.
It’s the only way to win.

Wake up from complacency.
Abandon predilection.

Wake up!
Wake up!
Wake up!

Held Captive

It was your Captivity
that held me down
and spread the blackness
through my soul like a
subtle poison.
Something in the crucible of your voice
scorched with pain…
Your words
stripped naked with living…

Chained me.

Whipped me.

Gave me the scars of a lifetime.
Cut my heart out
Stole it from my SELF
And raped it…

Spat on it.

I was the object of desecration
trying to survive in a world
that smothered my race
My sex
My freedom…

And I cried at the desire
To deny what I was,
My body wracked
With the torturous words of
Traitor
Judas
Savior

And yes, my tears poured before you
like sweat
beading up on a black body
parched with thirst...
Locked in the hull
of a stinking ship.

I felt the iron chew my flesh
And make it rot.
Then I became Iron-
Cold and Unyielding…
an element of Earth
chaining down Spirit.

As the manacles fell
And turned to dust
I wept for my freedom.
Wept for your freedom
and knew without doubt
that once again I was captive.

A slave to your exposure,
A victim to your darkness,
And a part of the iron
that holds you close
And gives you pain.

Vindication

The Fool stands on the precipice
Heedless of the plunging drop
And raises up her head
To kiss the Sun
from her high mountaintop.
Mindless of the Hermit there
who shines white light
(instead of gold)
she seeks to become Empress
before she’s old.

And if the Fool is wise
she’ll race the Chariot
across the sky,
and touch the Moon
with all the World
embedded deep within her eyes.
And if the Fool is fool in deed,
She’ll speak cursed words
and dive the depths,
and lose two wands for three sharp swords
or reversed Death.

The Fool has seen the Tower
And safeguarded close the Priestess.
The Hanged Man will remind her
that the Wheel still jests with time.
The Devil grant the
King of Circled Stars
shares goblets
filled with Strength
And let the Fool not wander
From her well untraveled road.

Sweet Temperance wakes within her hands.
(I hope).