Love Waves

Slapping waves crashing blithely on mawing caverns of visions
Entering into the halls of mirrors did echoing waves crash into mine heart
Apart to nearer me ye entereth me as wanton abandon my blood beats
Woman, Lady waves of thou doth crash over me crescendos in bliss
Woman, Lady Lisé tell me of the ways thou crashest beyond shadows
Woman, Lady Lisé Oriam bring me crashing back into the thou that is face

Ah the face, and I, not nearly like the lady of the Face that launched a thousand ships
Nor do I aspire to’t, but to ascend and lower in every direction
The spirit of the face to touch ye with the Gods and Goddesses crying and laughing
Above, below, withal, without, within,
Transcendence and immanence, floating – dancing in the openness of Love
For mine beloved husband, the fair and noble Sir Scott Michael of Oriam

In thy floating currents eddying me further into thine transports
Thy face into I nudge and bob, body akimbo, and as a current I lap thine Being
It is everything interrelating beyond what was once simplicity into the simplest
Divinity and the divine, thou sublimest of breath, thou utmost in grace, thou acmeed love
Universal tree with hearts for roots and minds for upper canopy; it is thee
The bird perched atop and the dragon underneath are thee
The fluttering leaves bearing seeds of Sophia snuggled in tears of bliss
The ancient stags gnawing at memories and the squirrel spinning its tail
Thou art all of these and more
For All doth not contain thine love and dareth not
For All tingles like fresh awakenings upon the crests
Of the wave that lips a froth into memories of thou above
Me and beneath me, thee, aye—virtuous and just Lady Lisé Oriam

In cradling you am I cradled in the arms of Nous
In opening the garden do I plunge into the dark fairy woods of Pan
In receiving you do I reach for the oceans to pour through me and back to you
In feeling you do I merge with the coniunctio that is the sacred marriage
The joining of the stag and priestess in the grove of sacred oaks
Absorbed amongst the furry nettles of Gaia
Protected by my prince, the fine and brave Sir Oriam
Armored in caresses that transform the stinging into song

Whomsovereth doth readeth hereinafter readeth to read
Certainly naught worthy drafting springs shall flow four-rivers strong
As that that floweth above below and within mine withal
Lady’s rarer, rarer to be than they that rarer still rarer be
Herewithstanding doth ye share embraces and breath
Breathing Nous into mine empty lungsfull
Lo, that thy love permitteth, dost I petition ye for a dip into thy river
Rare’s a rarer Lady e’er shared with such clarity
Love profounder ne’er braced serenity into eternity
Not as a laurel grove bathed in naked glowing moonlight
Not as a dark passage through any woods deep and wide
Not as a descent without ascent and rest
Not as a swimmer in a riptide of joy
Doth ye walk with me in mine grave
Walk with me on mine shadows
Walk with me in thine shadows
Walk with me e’ermore
As a private fractal ye helix All of me

Forever shall I do

On not Looking Behind

Steamy, she sat—
Her back gray-bluely lit—
One hand signing rest…

Steamy, she sat:
Fingers rubbing and going clickity-clack,
Tugging at curls of black…

Woman of many colors…
Browns seeing from oceans
Rubies mounting mounded curves
Salmon splashes surface surrounds
Caramels draping smooth, soft and satiny
Blacks coiling and curling grayish graceful veins
Blues throbbing and pulsing through lissome capillaries

River, the Grand—
Snake prior, albeit
Slow batting lashest

River, the Grand:
Monsters roaring and flowing rickety-rack,
Hugging on her crowned back…

River of many colors…
Browns seeking in the Lake
Grays looking at mirrored skies
Ceruleans peeking in Jack’s
Azurite tokens bobbing past railed cheesecakes
Blacks keeping an eye on longish neon streaks
Greenish murky making out fleeting dancing specters

On 'As Above, So Below'

Is it so critical that we cannot revision everything in order to see where it is that we stand? Is there any part of history in human life that is not open to interpretation and hermeneutics?

For instance, I approached the concept of “As above, so below.” originally as a very young man (ten or twelve), and when I read it I immediately looked above my head and at the floor and saw neither the same and thus thought it gibberish. I do not think this same reaction does not occur for others.

A while later, when in my twenties, I reread that phrase and thought, hmm…so what is outside the planet is within the planet, and then I said, well, it would all then be nothing more than space and there would be no planet, or if outside were like inside the earth—molten hot lava (is it?)—then it would all be sun—and so discounted it a second time.

Recently, I came to the realization that as the earth’s electromagnetic core releases energy that creates a field around the earth protecting it from the harmful cosmic radiation the earth would be unable to process without severe damage to living forms otherwise, that it also creates a field generating electricity penetrating the tops of trees and then eventually releasing through the roots of those trees. Scientists wonder where that electricity goes, without being able to sufficiently measure it, but, I suspect as do others, that it returns to the core from whence it emanated. Thus, as without, so within (an evolution or development of as above, so below—which I think has not been translated effectively enough to convey the true meaning from what is arguably an Egyptian source initially (and perhaps predating them), and at least translated from Greek or Latin. Yet, there is also the notion of interplanetary dust, a recorded phenomenon, along with Remote Viewing and asteroids, comets and strings or any other theory of everything (I would include helixical fractality of life in this list), that speaks to another way of seeing.

Therefore, as withal, so without is equally relevant to as without so within, and, in fact, neither can exist without the other for life to continue. Now, perhaps, in the initial wording, all of this was conveyed, but, I do not see it, even when reexamining the words, for there is too much to try to add on to the words that stand as they are, even though words do have soul as I see it, which explains why some immediately resonated with this term and always will. Sometimes the soul of the words is lost in translation and sometimes not.

Yes. As above, so below. Why would I so passionately defend these words, if not for their soul, which goes far beyond, and more deeply into the words themselves… than any words could ever describe. Our discussion was that, I thought that the words, themselves, were JUST FINE!!! What about the words doesn’t open itself to re-visioning? Nothing. What about the words needs re-visioning? To my mind, equally nothing. So, I will tell the anecdotal story of what resonated with me when I first heard the words. I was not 10 but rather, 10 and 10 – sometime in my early discovery of holism; and upon hearing the words, I never for once actually thought unidirectionally – above me and below me. Rather, the words touched within me the desire to explore in earnest my first substantive exploration of parallel patterns in the universe. And so, I started to look at the similarities between black stars and quasars with what was being described phenomenologically in the realm of quantum physics, and I thought: well, if there is the possibility of a release of energy at the largest and the smallest ( you see, As above, so below, never resonated with me as directional, but immediately, I saw the concept as applying to the spatial equivalents of high and low…) then what must that mean for in between -- was how I articulated what I would consider to be my most thoughtful college paper at the time… And even in between – in the center of things – was vertical and horizontal and more and less and the words – as above so below, were a funnel, an energetic vortex, an INVITATION… into a way at looking at parallel patterns in every aspect of the universe and consciousness that I still use today. And so, I guess that, at the end of the day, because the words themselves had so a profound effect upon the development of my Walk – before I understood, even the Eqgyptian, hermetical significance of the words – they, to me, represent something like an ancient “plant” that is embedded in the brain, which when activated, begins the search. No, the words are not sufficient in and of themselves for communicating the “truths of the universe.” Rather, they are a heremeutical key, which, for some reason, activates an ancient, deep and emotional response that says: don’t change a word. They are perfect, just as they are. With no rational explanation to back this up. Only the myriad of reflections and inspirations that the words, just as they are, touch in me that are capable of taking me on an endless journey of wonder.

As without, so within, in the microcosmic sense; and as withal so within in the macrocosmic sense, resonate much more with me, while as above, so below resonates with my wife, Lisé, and that is fine. They mean the same thing, metaphorically, they point to the same end, an undefinable equation or situation. We do not have to agree on everything and often find small particularities with which we disagree. Yet, I would offer the three sentences, one after another in random order in a double blind experiment, to see how others react; for we cannot say that simply my way or her way is best; nor that of the ancient wisdom as being necessary in its original wording (as in only those who learn the antique languages can really ever know the deeper truths for otherwise we who read them after translation read also the interpretation of another’s views that may be disconsonant with our own).

Isis and Horus

Driving into an area where the sun drapes darkened benches when the moon’s lost its light to campfires when I learn see again underneath the sheen of the milky way herein fairies roam and dwell; for, they seek something similar strange…

Carvings have aged but clear, Isis turns into a bird has sex with the phallus and creates a pillar. After finding Osiris, who has been chopped to pieces, re-assembling his pieces, we find Osiris whole again, lying on a stone slab, and Isis turns herself into a bird, hovers over Osiris, makes his phallus erect, draws his semen up into her womb, whereby Horus, the Son is born.

I AM Horus, a hore of us is part of us and we move on into the we of us
Here we reside for most of the time between
But, she runs beyond the stars
On a sunlit wave step that I could not reach
not on the sunnestmost beach…

I disobey, I dream but don’t try
I’ve separated into a thousand pieces
Each one tells a lie.
I’m dismembered atop the mountain in Prometheus slumber
Then remembered in dream every night.
Images churn and spin like wind running through fire
Turning to ashes what once had been alive.

Invigorating fire—I hear a sound past the inane
In the midst of what was once sparking fire
A lady’s cry answered by bufoonic antics
Related to putting out a fire—
What I see here is plentiful loving fire
Regardless the winds that treacherously overtake
Fire, rather that one could warm themselves’ over

And we build our fire with the logs that remain
Reveling in the warmth and light that is reborn
Out of Prometheus’ flesh and suffering
For us…

Fanciful Imaginings…

In the beginning of light within the dark and dryness in the moisture,
Four cougars craved solace and while crouching on lily pads
They suddenly were transformed into lotuses,
Which many deities and their devotees noticed.

Millennia later, they found themselves reified in cults as a posture,
Which spread over tropical zones and became fads
They realized then that they were the only ones
Who knew what lotuses really were…

And, accordingly, they sent a message to some
And me who seemed to not hear
And continued instead to reify lotuses,
Until one day a radiant lotus dared speech practice…

Yes, I am beautiful,
I am transformative,
I am the archetypal flower,
I am the nectar of the gods
The sweetest smelling perfume and the sweetest tasting juice
But I am so much more…
I am chaos, I am ferocious, I am hunger, I long to feed, I am the devourer
In all of your deification, have you accepted these Others as parts of me?
Can you, will you, won’t you, I beg of you
And do you have any idea of what will happen if you don’t!

I heard a soliloquy seductively whispered from a Goddess.
She was not a cougar, and so I wondered…
A roar sounded primordial colors into existence
And the space that wound in that place fondled
A creature into a plant again and I witnessed happenstance.

‘Tree, come to me,’ She whispers…
Whoever heard absurder a perjure of sanity?
In the shadows, I observe, goosebumps and chills—the profanity!
Wheneven shelters wrestle and perspire…

Wait. A Shadow stretches to reach my heart.
And a heartbeat pumps of energy brainwaves impart.
How shadow reaches thought reveals to inspire
The telling of “whenever stories” of diverse characters,
Even trees’ slow Sahara sojourn provides witness!