Best Mummified Poems
You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling
You left me like Alice, lost in Wonderland,
running in circles with my heart in my hand.
I thought our love was so beautiful and strong.
Tell me, please tell me, where did I go wrong?
Have I lost my luster, and I’m no longer thrilling;
or have you simply lost that loving feeling?
Wretchedly, I’ve watched you slowly slipping away;
with no pride left, I’m down on my knees to pray.
I’m begging, baby, sweet baby, please come back;
even though you left my heart mummified in black.
Ignoring my pleas, you walked out the door,
slashing my heart to pieces, hurting me to the core.
Yet, I can’t fathom why it’s you I still adore.
It’s killing me ‘cause my heart can’t stand the pain…
the kind that pierces like silver bullets of rain.
But only God knows why I still want you so badly;
my love, give me another chance and I’ll do anything gladly.
Yeah, you may have found someone new,
but every beat of my heart beats only for you…
so please, please just love me like you used to do.
06-12-2018
Contest: Grens Evergreens #4 Cilla Black
Sponsor: Teppo Gren
Song: You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling
Placement: 1st
"Horus in Paradise"
In dreams
I met you in Paradise
I called you
Blue Sky
You were an
Angel in disguise
Horus, White Light
feathers of fire
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
“Ten Miles High” / Roison Murphy
https://youtu.be/2B8fxZoa7w0
"It mav have been a Million years ago
The Light was kindled in the Old Dark Land
Within which the illumined Scrolls are all aglow,
That Egypt gave us with her mummified hand :
This was the secret of that subtle smile
Inscrutable upon the Sphinx's face,
Now told from sea to sea, from isle to isle ;
The revelation of the Old Dark Race ;
Theirs was the wisdom of the Bee and Bird,
Ant, Tortoise, Beaver, working human-wise ;
The ancient darkness spake with Egypt's Word ;
Hers was the primal message of the skies:
The Heavens are telling nightly of her glory,
And for all time Earth echoes her great story.
“There are more things in heaven and earth,
Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
“If we shadows have offended,
think but this and all is mended,
that you have but slumber’d here,
while these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
no more yielding but a dream.”
1. Horus
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horus
2. Ancient Egypt The light of the World (Vol II)
https://www.academia.edu/36994959/ANCIENT_EGYPT_THE_LIGHT_OF_THE_WORLD_A_Work_of_Reclamation_and_Restitution_in_Twelve_Books_VOL._II
(a) Egyptian Wisdom in the Revelation of John the Divine (Page 690)
(b) The Jesus-Legend Traced in Egypt for Ten Thousand Years (Page 727 – 890)
3. Ancient Egypt The Light of the World (Vol I – II)
https://www.academia.edu/40950279/Gerald_Massey._Ancient_Egypt_-_Vols1-2
4. The Parallels Between Jesus and Horus
https://hubpages.com/religion-philosophy/forum/42035/the-parallels-between-jesus-and-horus-
5. Jesus
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jesus
6. Ennead
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ennead
7. Isis; Nephthys; Hathor
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isis
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nephthys
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hathor
Artwork / George Redhawk (legally blind)
https://mymodernmet.com/george-redhawk-gifs/
Here I sit on the stump, of a dead messmate gum,
where house-keeping is poor, for the cleansed human mind;
the dead is not buried, so the living survive.
I see the fine balance, in a world that’s unkind.
There is always the devil, that lurks out of sight,
to balance the scales, and to keep the world strong.
There is no place for the weak, and so they succumb,
as the feast in the forest, where they did belong.
From this stump I can see, the growth of brand new life;
with saplings that are thriving, upward to the sun,
hosting throngs of parasites, striving hard to breed,
but there’s predators waiting, to bring their hope undone.
This fine messmate gum that once lived and has since died,
ruled for generations with a need to provide;
today it’s timber survives, although mummified,
and it’s saplings are growing, scattered far and wide.
There’s a stringybark close by, avoiding the axe;
a fallen black wattle, blighted by bardi grub.
Lightning split manna gum, now petrified wood,
and old wombat tracks, are covered up by scrub.
The bush has all the power, to regenerate.
This stump of the messmate, will nearly be concealed,
and slowly be forgotten, in the midst of time;
its days in the forest - no longer be revealed.
How will my soul dwell, in this natural garden?
Will it flit like a butterfly; glide like a snake;
or soar like an eagle, beyond the gum tree tops,
or drift down the rivers, and then float on a lake.
This fine messmate gum that once lived and has since died,
ruled for generations with a need to provide;
today it’s timber survives, although mummified,
and it’s saplings are growing, scattered far and wide.
LET’S TENDS TO OUR FRIEND CAREN
Caterpillar in chrysalis,
mummified pain,
sleep it off.
Doze o beautiful butterfly,
wings clipped
but for a raging season.
Fair garden waits,
as your friends
tend to pests,
at your behest,
and string pretty things
that will win your smile.
Fly, with your similitude of pattern,
delighting in your fairy garden.
The twinkle of green and periwinkle
dusty stars, grins of slight mischief
in their wiles,
while you sleep, heaven’s child,
while you dream in winsome hues.
Recollect your joy,
touch the milky white moon,
sleep, sleep,
rest your toil,
leave it all behind.
Weary eyes turn to opalescent skies.
Arise, dear friend, arise
anew.
Beginnings wait for you…
The gang you tend, tender hearted for you,
waits for the embrace of replies,
ever faithful Caren.
6/8/2019
Written: December 02, 2023
Quote "Without birth and death, and without the perpetual transmutation of all the forms of life, the world would be static, rhythm-less, undancing, mummified." Alan Watts
________________________________________
“we woke up early one morn, ego shorn
it felt as though we were in form reborn
nodes within stirred, boundaries blurred
our head and heart, with love concurred”
I deploy discursive divine depiction as a guide.
A gateway to Genesis, where it takes its side.
Unbridled and untamed, my voice may rise.
I pursued knowledge out of pure surprise.
Low-frequency vibes induce a shift in shape.
Scarcity leads to transmutation, of spare scape.
Alchemists transmute leads to sacred gold.
Metal sheds its genius luster in the kiln hold.
I waltz freely with doom in the gloom.
I inhale oxygen to marvel at life's bloom.
I endure steps yet disappear in the dream.
Structure is unaffected by the skill stream.
Love is my soul—my reason for existence.
Living in lavish love is a lifelong vow of diligence.
A mind, weaved with such insight, was so warm.
I flaunt my firm frame in this fabulous form.
When you are feeling opulent and egotistical.
Those who are dominant were miscible.
Departure might induce an unfillable hole.
Descry a suitable way to purify your soul.
There are ecstatic and tragic days, love and hate.
No matter how tough we strive, this will be our fate.
Note how sporadic and fleeting life is; spot the stride.
Our days of tribulation bruised our noble pride!
Rather than succumbing to hatred and rage.
Turning negative into a rising trend of assuage
Let trust and troth tackle tricks and malicious
Such a restrained demeanor is truly auspicious.
Within, most consensus spans are wide.
It's all whim; scatter love and watch it glide.
Trust your scintilla—trek to the boundless sea.
We may all profit from sowing wisdom trees.
Conquered the most-dubbed landmass on Earth.
And yearning to discover raw levels of worth!
Death, then delirious with deceit, drove his life.
A wicked beast embedded himself in strife!
A susurrus sparkle to the shimmering love.
Enhances adieu strut below the moon above.
Breeze says, "Love on, my dear, and dance."
Across the trees, a gentle man's glance.
The Ancient Odyssey of clubs to bombs
from red ochre handprints on cave walls
to the destroyer of worlds
is a long-traveled road with the wormy flesh of war
and blood-soaked fields
where wailing tears of Mothers fall endlessly upon the Earth
as footprints vanish from battlegrounds over and over
and barriers are built to hide behind
leaving silent confusion standing as sentinels
guarding the internal workings of the soul
that clamor in times of plenty
and hide in times of hate
locked in the mortal human shell
pacing back and forth in prisons of their fears
finding man has not changed
trapped by bridled thinking from the past
frightened by new worlds, new faces
whose dreams become nightmares
trampled on by those who've become mummified flesh
dressed in cloth ranting in unison
believing in things that exist only in their minds
like ghostly shadowed imagined images
as they travel through the portal of time
creating new battlefields, where flies and crows feast
on the dead
before their names are etched in stone
covered over a thousand times by new fields, new stones
in a continuous thread
from red ochre hands to the destroyer of worlds
Three o’clock in the afternoon:
the sun should have been
scorching the asphalts
and the shingles on roofs, but
spurts of red electric spark
ran across the sky. Blackness
smothered any hint of light.
Molten earth spewed out
from the gates of hell. The ground
rumbled and shook.
Ash engulfed the rice fields.
Those who were caught
and trapped in its path
were mummified like those at Pompeii. Rocks,
mud rained from heaven,
thudded against concrete walls. Palm and coconut
trees were unearthed from their roots
as if a gardener was yanking out weeds.
Villagers ran blindly to a nearby church
while their skins roasted and peeled
from their muscles and bones. The ones,
who were able to reach
the Cross, suffocated—their lungs
seared from sulfuric acid.
An avalanche of dirt buried them
six feet deep.
I was on the opposite
side of the island. The wind
howled as it blew East.
what makes the heart feel for something it can't touch?
his tears caused contractions for his heart to pulse
floundered, looking for loves heartache to clutch
whimsical solace of her essence startles his impulse
shouldering the bane of a kiss that foreshadowed trifles
kooky huh? how time unleashes emotions restrained behind pride
losing his beloved inamorata to an admirer she mollycoddles
his heart became friable to the echo of her suicide
It was the absence of a note that left his worries unverified
what makes the heart feel for something it can't touch?
Now alone and without; a lovers heart is mummified
he will never love another as much
the “ghost orchid” has become her epithet
the rules of this game have changed, misère ouverte.
I chose Bonnie Raitt “I can't make you love me” because when I listened to it it brought
back memories of my childhood feeling second to my fathers work. His physical presence was
always their, but his heart belonged to his work and still is. After listening to the song 5 or 6
times I thought of the question, what makes the heart feel for something that it can't
touch----like love, and went from there.
Under the big boulders of rock in Zion is a kingdom of the Lost World. Treasures and mummified bodies are kept inside this kingdom. No one has ever attempted to enter the cursed gate of the Lost World because anybody who has done it, dies on the spot at the entrance gate of the cursed kingdom.
Who discovered it is still unknown. The question is, who guards the gate of the Lost World? Does the gate opens at a specific time of day?
Underneath the hot boulders in the mountains of Zion is a vast and long trails of the cursed world. The end where the kingdom stands was believed to be at the foot of one running falls facing another rivulet or waterfalls -- mysterious as it sounds. As always, the reality of any perceived kingdom is not on top of the land, but underneath the earth's crust.
Too many speculations and yet even the government will not spend too much time, money and effort in all explorations. There is no guarantee of safety and return of investment.
The Gate of the Lost World will only stay as a myth for a long time until stronger faults collide with each other to prove that reality is not a curse or myth.
I went to the said place in Arizona sometime ago, but I've never seen or felt any signs of mystery. Only dead echoes and hot winds.
The absence of touch attaches itself
To the narrow whisper of his heart beat.
Footprints echo in loving embrace
Of his fathers mummified conscience
There are memories that rise like the sun
On days when the leaves aren't kept
There are days when the rain won't come
All he wants to do is look outside And see him starring back.
Mummified zombies
Criss-cross the skies in frightful
Flight seeking stray blood.
Quadrilateral based structures
four sides triangular leaning in
Each stone block estimated at 2.5 to 15 tons
around 2.3 million in one
Over 118 pyramids now discovered standing
in Egypt on Giza plateau
stretching down the Nile valley
at the edge of the Sahara desert
These include Cheops, Cheprio, Mycerinus, and Sphinx
surrounded by magnificent monuments, palaces, and temples
Initiated by Khufu around 2550 B.C.
built fit for supremacy
Pharaohs and Queens expected to become Gods in after-life
so they were embalmed and mummified
as mummies in preparation for the world
with everything they may need to keep themselves there
riding the web
she is a spider
and weaves a web
for the next meal
as trapped in her tangles
you have no chance of escape
she mummified you
for the next meal
Kiss of Judas, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Le Baiser de Judas by T. Wignesan
In our century where one sells father and mother
Husband his wife and wife her husband
And who doesn’t with ease dispose the only brother
Gives up yet two scorched by blade and fire
Of course breath comes hard to him who thus
Horribly heartless sacrifices his friend
But efforts turn to Nought before man comes of age
Who without remorse at first is forced to vomit
Disembowelled in one’s own mummified body
No one’s spared by the multitude
Which draws us into it all like an epidemic
Each is smothered in the crowd as in the prison cell
All become lambs : who’s to be betrayed first
Under constant surveillance yet others to victimise
Each spies within the circle surrounding him
His soul lives stuck to the peephole
And if while in their midst they catch him in the act
To punish him they give him up to the Law
Thus every man in the steps of an apostle
Seeking to be approved worships the Law
The great one-eyed lady
The arrogant goddess
Whoever stands for such justice demeans his spirit
And creates in us a vile and villainous heart
In the name of the men of law and the public force
All functionaries like you and I
In this Darkness where Emptiness reigns supreme
I mete justice out to Judas
What he did he did for me
So that I might in turn do the same
Kissing the forehead in good faith
To such as he all over the earth
Every day umpteen times I vow
The mecanical anger
Of the labourers of the Law
(from Pierre Emmanuel’s Les Jours de la Passion)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, October 11, 2014
Who could have known of their watch
Who could have told of their suspicion
Who could have told
That they were the harbingers
To my resurrection?
Me, I sat there
Plummeted
Engrossed in my ingratitude
Occasionally
Languishing
Betraying the illusion
And I remember, too,
Lingering in the thirsty
Emptiness
Mummified
Entwined in my solitude.
Sometimes
Before the Eolithic era
Which refracted by dioptric
Prometheus moulded his man
There were no leaves on branches
No bark on the trunks
No undergrowth in the forest
No sweat on the pores.
I opened the cataract
on my veins
the silence of the stars
surged forth
down the rivers on my palm-
leaving deserts behind.
Sensing disturbance
In my oblivion
Reproaching my rebirth
I reached out for the present
Leaving no spoor.
Centuries after
I arrived at the end of my hibernation
At the beginning of their quest
I had not solicited, I swear!
Mother, they said
These cracks on your face
In the shape of nations
Who will mend them?
Those aliens
Who daily defile your rivers
Make love to your beaches
Shitting on your mountains
Who will excoriate their oddity?
Those derelicts
Shaking your constellation
To balance the ecology:
Who will indite the epilogue?
Those dirty mercenaries
Who raped your plains
Plundered your joy:
Who will expiate the outrage?
Who will resurrect
Your majesty?
Who will deflect
The holocaust?