Category: Runes of Mayet

The moun­tains and hills that erupt from the ground
bring life to the water as it starts on it’s round
gath­er­ing togeth­er falling faster the flow
start­ing the move­ment for the wind that will blow

The water that falls runs to pools in the rocks
decay­ing and rot­ting all move­ment just stops
along comes the sun bring­ing heat and bright light
dis­till­ing the water until van­ished from sight.

Ris­ing high above earth it forms to a cloud
and gath­ers it’s forces ’til it screams out loud
with the wind that is blow­ing it around and around
over the moun­tains it bursts to the ground

With a loud clap of thun­der and light­en­ing as well
the storms and the clouds reflect the sto­ry to tell
bring with it the rain­bows who’s colours refract
deep inside uni­ver­sal mir­rors all natures exact

Not one being first not one being last
the past is the future the present is past
they split the atom and dropped the bomb
the earth will fight back before it is gone.

19 the sun unveiled Book of THoth Aleis­ter Crow­ley

 

Mir­ror mir­ror on the wall
who’s the faer­est of us all
the truth are we
in the clouds that you see
the bal­ance of fire and water..electricity.

YOU opened up the door­way
AND risked a look inside.
YOU could­n’t share the vision
AND the truth you had to hide.

YOU did­n’t build the pyra­mid
AND struc­ture things just right.
YOU went and split the atom
AND were blind­ed by sun­light.

YOU for­got to use a mir­ror
AND reflect it all around.
YOU turned away, closed the eye
AND did­n’t speak a sound.

YOU did­n’t see me watch­ing
AND know­ing all the lie.
YOU kept on chain­ing spir­it
AND did­n’t hear it’s cry.

YOU lust­ed for more pow­er
AND greed went hand in hand.
YOU acquired gold and dia­monds
AND built cas­tles in the sand.

YOU built up debt to Moth­er Earth
AND that will nev­er be repaid.
YOU reap the crop that you sowed
AND now lay in the bed you made.

YOU have asked for nature’s fury
AND that is exact­ly what you’ll get.
YOU know nature is the bal­ance
AND at dawn the sun will set.

Sui­cide moth
with the brains of a doth
you are bang­ing away at the screen
It is night time out­side
and it’s a full lunar tide
Whether you’ll live remains to be seen

the rain’s pour­ing down
on your face like a clown
makes you look like an eerie dark green
I peer at your face
right out there in space
and won­der why nature is harsh and so mean

you’re bang­ing away
with wings beat­ing in fray
to the light you seem to be keen
why don’t you give up
There is glass is in the cup
the knowl­edge of which sure­ly you glean

but seem­ing­ly not
you don’t seem to stop
that bang­ing away at the screen
I bid you good­night
and close blinds out of sight
of that light from which your life is so lean

you would think you would learn
light also can burn
and char­coal can tar­nish the sheen

cre­at­ed 2008

It rained today for the first day since we moved to the farm. Tonight I was sit­ting on my bed look­ing out the win­dow when a Bogong moth sim­i­lar to the one  above that I snapped on the front door a minute ago, decid­ed to keep me fas­ci­nat­ed by the way he kept try­ing to get through the glass win­dow into the bed­room to the light.

It was so fun­ny, Kahleah was sit­ting on the bed with me and I said to her “look at the fairy on the win­dow”.

She walked up with a puz­zled expres­sion on her face (up to now she has­n’t actu­al­ly “seen” the fairies we play with) and she peered at the win­dow close up. She took a step back, looked at me, looked back at the moth and did a dou­ble take, peer­ing clos­er again.

She then turned to me with a look of con­ster­na­tion on her face and said “its a yucky look­ing one isn’t it mum­my”.

I laughed and laughed. I then explained it was a big moth. The wing span from tip to tip was about ten cen­time­tres and the body length was about 6 cm long.

She asked me if I could open the win­dow to get a bet­ter look as he was hang­ing on the insect screen. When I opened the win­dow she again peered at it up close, exam­in­ing it with fas­ci­na­tion.

Glen leaned for­ward and said, look you can scratch it on it’s tum­my and he gave it’s tum­my a bit of a rub through the screen. She then reached up and touched it through the screen and gen­tly pat­ted it’s tum­my with a look of com­plete awe on her face.

When I closed the win­dow we sat there and watched the moth for ages, just con­tin­u­al­ly beat itself against the win­dow in it’s futile effort to get to the light.

One again nature and my lit­tle girl inspired me to write this poem. Hope you enjoy.

The Bogong Moth
The moths are huge and appar­ent­ly edi­ble. You notice I say appar­ent­ly. I don’t see them on my menu in the near or dis­tant future. I live in south East Queens­land which is their breed­ing ground.

Post­script.
As I am post­ing this Glen spoke up from behind me at the din­ing table where he was watch­ing me post the blog. We were hav­ing a cof­fee before bed and he said “Here you are the cats got one now”

Sure enough I turned around and the cat had pre­sent­ed one to Glen at his feet. I grabbed the cam­era as Glen grabbed the cat and it flew into the kitchen. The cat got away from Glen and sat there eye­ing the moth. Glen took the cat to the sleep­out while I res­cued the moth and put him out­side.

When Glen walked back in he said “All that effort and there’s a bird out­side that is prob­a­bly thank­ing us for din­ner about now.

Well at least he did­n’t end up the cat’s din­ner.. tonight any­way.…

Icarus

 

The tow­er is struck by light­en­ing
from nowhere it seems to come
dark­ness flash blind­ing light
there is no place to run

Only from the depths of sad­ness
the emp­ty feel­ings of despair
can open up the emo­tion­al heart
and bring new light to bear.

So now its time to start from scratch
to build it up for gain
with extra rein­force­ments
to pro­tect from that same pain

The tow­er is built time again
until some­thing knocks it down
when you learn the les­son well
then you’ll wear the crown.

 

 

The wheel goes up
the wheel goes down
the wheel keeps turn­ing
around and around

Light­ing the mir­rors
on the curves of life
accel­er­at­ing the image
on the blade of a knife

Through one loop
and out the next
faster and faster
base over apex.

The light trav­els for­ward
gath­er­ing to it a past
grow­ing brighter and brighter
how long can it last

Before it explodes
from all into one
and from the big end­ing
a new uni­verse called nun

Again on its jour­ney
star­ing fresh and anew
some facts only known
by an elite cho­sen few

The light that starts off
with a mes­sage to send
remains essen­tial­ly unchanged
from end through to end.

 

If you could see inside of you
at the colours of your soul
You would see the sparkling sun­shine
not an emp­ty dark black hole.

For the colours of the rain­bow
shine when bounced off gold­en light
liq­uid fires in the mir­ror
is a glo­ri­ous splen­did sight.

The days of deep dark sad­ness
of stormy clouds and rains of tears
show an emp­ty blank reflec­tion
that stretch­es back through the years.

When you search for hap­pi­ness
above all else in life
you get to feel the sad­ness
the sharp cut­ting edge of the knife.

 

 

The fright and the ter­ror
that cre­ates all life’s tears
is born of reli­gion
which cre­ates all life’s fears.

Satanism or hatred
Chris­tian­i­ty alike
all are just mir­rors
on the scales of our psy­ches

Fol­low thy leader
all the rule books do say
obey and work hard
to earn a weeks pay

Day and day out
year after year
sleep­ing and work­ing
’til the end­ing is near

Not hav­ing no time
nor ener­gy for fun
liv­ing life bleak
the work nev­er done

Cre­at­ing sup­pres­sion
of instinct and light
blind­ing the glo­ry
of nature’s delight

Cloud­ing the images
of the spir­it called man
The soul put in chains
cross and nails in his hand

but whether the cross is upright
or spun in reverse
as you see from these lines
its mir­rored its curse.

Good and evil are cre­at­ed
from fic­tion not fact
to explain it this way
is a mat­ter of tact.

 

Once upon a bright lit plan­et
Shin­ing bright­ly in the Skye
Beam­ing down reflect­ed light
from night there way up high

The mir­ror spins in all its glo­ry
cap­tur­ing in it the sparkling sun
and turns the image round and round
send­ing it back down the line to nun

For a light that begins upon it’s jour­ney
Encoun­ters mir­rors on its way
though they once said I am the light
it may yet dawn a  cloudy day

As above as so below
or so they said to me
but as long as there is north and south
For every he there must be a she.

 

Alone in the dark, alone with your thoughts
over­come with deep feel­ings of dread.
all of your hopes and all of your fears
are flow­ing ran­dom­ly around in your head.

search­ing for courage, the spark that’s inside
to stand up and face what the fates bring,
sup­press­ing inside you the need to be free,
as slow­ly the voice stops to sing

when you final­ly stand up and step on to the future,
from the tears that are all done and all cried,
fac­ing the fears of all that is unknown,
that takes courage born of blood and of pride.

the torch­es of knowl­edge which light up the way
will help guide you to take one step more
the light may grow dim and flick­er about
but the spir­it comes from deep in the core

The book of today has already been writ­ten
the pages are num­bered from the days of your life
it’s signed in your blood and then sealed with the laws
ready to cut through your soul like a knife

Look deep in the mir­ror at you star­ing back
you see time etched and marked on your face
inno­cence gone from those eyes which now turn away
a know­ing deep far­away look in its place

Anoth­er day old­er theres no going back
no chang­ing the past with a pen
the les­son is learned reac­tion to action
it is time for the deep wounds to mend

A red dawn breaks out from under the dark­ness
as nature waits for the new day to begin
Con­scious­ness wak­ens and stirs from it’s sleep
the world has turned on it’s axis again
Mayet

Nor is it the begin­ning
Nor is it the end
It’s just a place on the bend
whether you lose or whether your win­ning
in the eyes of the law
you’ll always be sin­ning
who made em judge
who made em jury
who chose the day for nature’s own fury
the pass­ing will come and no one will know
as time has before, the future will go
if all was for naught
as naught was for all
then the flow­ers may droop
but the trees will stand tall
the moun­tains will crum­ble
and fall into dust
the earth dis­em­bow­elled
in nature’s own lust
the days of his­to­ry con­cealed and elect
on Earth they are for­got­ten In the stars they reflect
no sin goes unpar­doned who’s eye can but see
form­less lines on an unbri­dled sea
the sailor arrives back home at last
inside the sto­ry, that began in the past.

 

Kei­th Swan