Saklas, the fool who within his heart of indulgence
Whispers: “There is no god greater than me”
Coiling and consuming himself in self-indulgence
Isn’t he like that voice in you and me
Samuel, the blind idol who proclaims to the world
Roaring loudly “There is no god but me”
His roars thundering within the cosmic underworld
Isn’t he like that voice in you and me
The serpent begets nothing god-like or natural
The lion just dims light for you and me
Sneaking arrogance and boastful vainglory coiled up as one
Pride, wisdom’s veil and denial of the humble Son
The serpent and lion are coiled up as one, for us to see
Yaldabaoth, the idol of pride and wisdom’s folly
Walk into the Light
Beginning with the eye:
One like a needle has,
And pierce into your mind.
Enter the Source where
Light produces Light:
Never returning to
This Darkness left behind.
Walk into the Light.
We are not trapped by iron bars ~ but by vibrating strings in a play
Stars, atoms, creatures and time itself are string figures still quivering
Ten heavens are trapped together by these unseen strings still weaving
All between the innumerable fingers of Saklas, still twisting
(Inspired by the scientific hypothesis of string theory, which states that everything on a subatomic level is made up of one-dimensional, vibrating strings).
Sophia’s tears stung Saklas ~ Even more than the fires of judgment
Caliginous eyes
Fearsome face of sickly white
Lion-headed snake
Embellished in his shadows
With flaming orange beneath
Little men inside my skull
run machines that make me whole.
Trapped within the storage bond
of neuron chem and thoughts beyond.
Little men with pencil hair
program charts for pain and chair.
Neuron cranes moving protons
up and down -- switching thoughts on.
Little men run all around
one trips the cord -- make no sound.
The cord of life, a fleshy wire
holds angel light and angel power.
And my eye whites turn black
and this little man has his back
against the grey computer.
He gazes out the window of my eyes
and wonders --
"What the . . ."
Praying to the light
Trampling the night's basilisk
With its seven heads
Crushing serpent and lion
Trampling the legless dragon
Through the light stream that crowned her
This is a bussokusekika poem, a form of japanese poetry with the syllable count of 5-7-5-7-7-7
This is based on the spiritual account from the Pistis Sophia Chapter 66.
Wings lofty and bright
Sharp claws perched on the date tree
Feathers light and still
A beak restless and serene
To sing the song called gnosis
… where ignorance is bliss, / ‘Tis folly to be wise.
Informed about the choices—
the mainstay o’ adulthood—
we often smother voices;
in good stead they have stood.
Grapple with, analyse
a destination grim:
a web of intrigue; lies
which we quote verbatim.
Some opportunities
present itself to us
with practicalities.
We often wish to cuss,
but many chances missed
in pursuit of prize.
Where ignorance is bliss,
‘tis folly to be wise.
The quote is from the final stanza of Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College, by Thomas Gray (1716–71).
This is an example of gnomic poetry.
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THE BOOK OF GENESIS
THE BOOK OF EXODUS
THE BOOK OF NUMBERS
THE BOOK OF JUDGES
THE BOOK OF RUTH
THE BOOK OF KINGS
THE BOOK OF EZRA
THE BOOK OF ESTHER
THE BOOK OF JOB
THE BOOK OF PSALMS
THE BOOK OF PROVERBS
THE BOOK OF ADVERBS
THE BOOK OF REVELATIONS
Assaya,
lay your holy hands upon me, enfold my shame within your robes.
Invoke the presence of the Mother, solicit those who shine in gold.
Lift up your eyes and look upon me, for I renew under their gaze.
Your tears are medicine for mortals , they flush dis-ease from twisted veins.
Infuse my soul with lights of violet, and place the rose within my heart.
Utter words unto your angels to light the star above my crown.
Have them kiss my faith with feathers, transmute the fog that has me blind.
Have them weave a bed of sweetgrass, where scented dreams suffuse the veils.
Anoint my brow with sacred wisdom, wash my hair in perfumed oils.
Lead my will towards deep surrender, help me forgo all earthly spoils.
Fan the threefold flame within me, so higher essence may descend.
Teach me of balance and of wholeness, for I am bride and I am groom.
Intone the sacred notes of ages, vibrations pure and free of flaws.
Bless me with sight that pierces falseness and with forgiveness for my wrongs.
Amin.
Pippa Gray
Wrinkles in time produce erasures of mind
Loving you with only the faint residue of who I am
Like a hard drive wiped clean
But the user’s sweat still clings to the keyboard
The interface had to wait to be reformed
My inner face smiles when it sees our connect was reborn
The metaphor is fitting
But the brain is more
Than an information system
Waiting to be accessed
We’re not technology and plastic
Imagine this- you and I
Soul mates of a kind
What is a mate but a friend
Is that a crime to believe
In another place and time
We shared an intimate exchange
Is that strange that you were mine?
Oh to turn a phrase
The words like sugar on a cane
They thrust on the the page
And make love to the mind that retains
The heat from my flame
I’ll say it again
Imagine this- you and I
Soul mates of a kind
What is a mate but a friend
Is that a crime?
To believe in another place and time
We shared an intimate exchange that was sublime
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