(African Creation Myth - Boshongo Tribe)
Pain!
Consuming pain seated deep in the pit of
This immortal's stomach, and
He did his best to be rid of it.
In a blinding burst,
Bumba belched and heaved,
Bringing forth into the void
The brightness of the noonday sun.
As the sun did warm the earth,
Drying the many waters,
Bumba's stomach still ached with
A soul-devouring pain.
He heaved and heaved again,
Creating a heavenly tidal wave -
Painting the blackness of night with
The virgin moon and diamond stars.
With one last heave,
The god's pain was no longer
For he had populated the new earth with
The leopard, turtle, crocodile, and man.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Pandora
(Greek Mythology)
A punishment to mankind
For the misdeeds of living forethought,
She was put upon the Earth
With just one burning desire.
Although she tried to resist
The quiet calling of curiosity,
Caution lost the battle in
The war waged within her mind.
Thus upon the earth was visited
Horrors too many to name.
Among the worse were truly evil -
Mortal pain, sickness, envy, and greed.
Cursed to know the abject grief of
Sorrow forever more,
The foolish woman did scream
Until at last a glimmer -
The escape of hope into the world -
Did give her cause to smile once more.
A punishment to mankind
For the misdeeds of living forethought,
She was put upon the Earth
With just one burning desire.
Although she tried to resist
The quiet calling of curiosity,
Caution lost the battle in
The war waged within her mind.
Thus upon the earth was visited
Horrors too many to name.
Among the worse were truly evil -
Mortal pain, sickness, envy, and greed.
Cursed to know the abject grief of
Sorrow forever more,
The foolish woman did scream
Until at last a glimmer -
The escape of hope into the world -
Did give her cause to smile once more.
Nyx
(Greek Creation Myth)
An abyssmal void-
Dark, vast, and bitterly cold -
The powerful Nyx sat alone,
No one for her to behold.
A grand idea did strike -
A beautiful golden egg she'd lay
And selflessly warm the orb,
Sacrificing herself day after day.
Years and years did past,
And still our fair Nyx
Warmed her precious golden egg
In hopes the universe would be fixed.
Until finally a large crack
Throughout the space did ring
And the two halves of the shell,
Their curvatures did bring
The atmosphere - our loving sky
And breathable, clean air;
They also brought the very Earth upon
Which the humans labored with care.
An abyssmal void-
Dark, vast, and bitterly cold -
The powerful Nyx sat alone,
No one for her to behold.
A grand idea did strike -
A beautiful golden egg she'd lay
And selflessly warm the orb,
Sacrificing herself day after day.
Years and years did past,
And still our fair Nyx
Warmed her precious golden egg
In hopes the universe would be fixed.
Until finally a large crack
Throughout the space did ring
And the two halves of the shell,
Their curvatures did bring
The atmosphere - our loving sky
And breathable, clean air;
They also brought the very Earth upon
Which the humans labored with care.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Free Write - A "Slice of Life"
An assignation at midnight, shadows wavering like black flames coming on a warm, flower-scented breeze. His laughter was rich and thick as chocolate – as if you could pull it from the air and eat it. His voice slithered into the room, low and full of promise… silken whispers in the small hours of the night. He walked into the room, as if the air boiled invisibly around him.
She stood there at the window, beautifully silhouetted in that pure white light spreading like ice over the darkness. Not beautiful and not supremely brilliant, she was filled with something that took the place of both qualities – something best described as a profound vivacity… a continual and sincere response to all that she encountered in her path through life. She was a sexual dessert of curves and points.
She whispered a greeting, a voice so close to silence that one must strain to hear it. That whisper hovered around his body like a line of warmth, a whisper of ghostly electricity.
He went to her, filled with images of his dreams. Dreams of kissing her so hard his mouth hurt; so soft his heart hurt; so long his neck hurt; so deep his throat hurt; and so completely that nothing hurts.
Standing behind her, nuzzling into her neck, this was a nocturnal visit filled with the promise of delicious physical intimacy. He savored the very sweet taste of saliva mixed with skin – skin unnaturally soft, like living velvet. She glowed like there was an ethereal light inside of her… a light only lit by the spark of his touch.
Turning to face him, her eyes drank him down like a parched man eyes a glass of water – eyes flaming with hunger, desire, and truth. Moving to his face, her eyes softened and grew liquid, a fervent passion flaring to life.
He kissed her, his lips soft as silk; gentle as rose petals; hot as the noonday sun. His tongue was a quick wetness exploring the inner reaches of her honeyed mouth. Passion roared in his ears like great waves that crash up and over the beach, never receding but only building more with each tick of the bright night’s clock.
Something inside him melted that hurt in an exquisite way. All his longings; all his dreams and sweet anguish; all the secrets held asleep within him came to life. At once everything was transformed and everything made sense. That first kiss united their souls, the spirits entwining in the very breath they breathed. And each exhalation was a baptism in fire.
He always knew that she could change minds and alter moods with just a touch, but now he knew that she could instantly take possession of a soul with just a kiss. For in that kiss, he lost his very existence.
With a voice soft, low, and more private than the setting, he whispered that he loved her. He stroked her face softly, knowing what his mother had meant when she had told his sister that love and electricity were one in the same. With every kiss, he felt a jolt in his soul; with every whisper and touch, he felt as if he’d been shocked into life.
They sighed together, an air of breathless intensity as the night turned to dawn. The coming sun was the first blue gaze of the day. This love they shared was much like a wild rose – beautiful and calm but willing to draw blood in its defense. Tested once by a merciless man to whom she’d been betrothed, he’d already shed that blood to keep her safe. Now, as they watched the sun spread its warming fingers across the sky like pale pastel ribbons, he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do to ensure they would be together.
She stood there at the window, beautifully silhouetted in that pure white light spreading like ice over the darkness. Not beautiful and not supremely brilliant, she was filled with something that took the place of both qualities – something best described as a profound vivacity… a continual and sincere response to all that she encountered in her path through life. She was a sexual dessert of curves and points.
She whispered a greeting, a voice so close to silence that one must strain to hear it. That whisper hovered around his body like a line of warmth, a whisper of ghostly electricity.
He went to her, filled with images of his dreams. Dreams of kissing her so hard his mouth hurt; so soft his heart hurt; so long his neck hurt; so deep his throat hurt; and so completely that nothing hurts.
Standing behind her, nuzzling into her neck, this was a nocturnal visit filled with the promise of delicious physical intimacy. He savored the very sweet taste of saliva mixed with skin – skin unnaturally soft, like living velvet. She glowed like there was an ethereal light inside of her… a light only lit by the spark of his touch.
Turning to face him, her eyes drank him down like a parched man eyes a glass of water – eyes flaming with hunger, desire, and truth. Moving to his face, her eyes softened and grew liquid, a fervent passion flaring to life.
He kissed her, his lips soft as silk; gentle as rose petals; hot as the noonday sun. His tongue was a quick wetness exploring the inner reaches of her honeyed mouth. Passion roared in his ears like great waves that crash up and over the beach, never receding but only building more with each tick of the bright night’s clock.
Something inside him melted that hurt in an exquisite way. All his longings; all his dreams and sweet anguish; all the secrets held asleep within him came to life. At once everything was transformed and everything made sense. That first kiss united their souls, the spirits entwining in the very breath they breathed. And each exhalation was a baptism in fire.
He always knew that she could change minds and alter moods with just a touch, but now he knew that she could instantly take possession of a soul with just a kiss. For in that kiss, he lost his very existence.
With a voice soft, low, and more private than the setting, he whispered that he loved her. He stroked her face softly, knowing what his mother had meant when she had told his sister that love and electricity were one in the same. With every kiss, he felt a jolt in his soul; with every whisper and touch, he felt as if he’d been shocked into life.
They sighed together, an air of breathless intensity as the night turned to dawn. The coming sun was the first blue gaze of the day. This love they shared was much like a wild rose – beautiful and calm but willing to draw blood in its defense. Tested once by a merciless man to whom she’d been betrothed, he’d already shed that blood to keep her safe. Now, as they watched the sun spread its warming fingers across the sky like pale pastel ribbons, he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do to ensure they would be together.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Aengus and Caer Ibormeith
(Celtic Mythology)
A lovely maiden, fair of face
And silent, ghostly form
Doth snuck into Aengus’s room
Until unrequited love hath born.
He dreamt of her nightly –
In dreams he wished to stay –
And rued the sun’s dawning
With the passing of every day.
Illness took hold of the man
And throughout body and mind did spread
Until a power physician was summoned
In fear he’d soon be dead.
A search was called –
Looking high, looking low –
But years did pass without avail
While Aengus’s love did grow.
Finally love and luck, it seems,
Met to quench his lonely thirst.
But travel to Loch Bel Dracon
Was the journey to make first.
Upon the quiet, rocky shores,
Aengus did find silver maidens fair
Surrounding his love, Caer Ibormeith,
Whose visage at his heart did tear.
Trying to secure her for our hero,
His people did plead in vain.
So upon the lands came a shower of blood
To help quell his eternal pain.
Her father begged for sweet mercy,
His anguish echoing in his word.
He could not promise the fair maiden
For on even years, she doth become a bird.
So upon the next year, taking great haste,
Aengus traveled to win the girl’s heart.
The pair of swans sealed their love with a swim
And vowed never again to part.
A lovely maiden, fair of face
And silent, ghostly form
Doth snuck into Aengus’s room
Until unrequited love hath born.
He dreamt of her nightly –
In dreams he wished to stay –
And rued the sun’s dawning
With the passing of every day.
Illness took hold of the man
And throughout body and mind did spread
Until a power physician was summoned
In fear he’d soon be dead.
A search was called –
Looking high, looking low –
But years did pass without avail
While Aengus’s love did grow.
Finally love and luck, it seems,
Met to quench his lonely thirst.
But travel to Loch Bel Dracon
Was the journey to make first.
Upon the quiet, rocky shores,
Aengus did find silver maidens fair
Surrounding his love, Caer Ibormeith,
Whose visage at his heart did tear.
Trying to secure her for our hero,
His people did plead in vain.
So upon the lands came a shower of blood
To help quell his eternal pain.
Her father begged for sweet mercy,
His anguish echoing in his word.
He could not promise the fair maiden
For on even years, she doth become a bird.
So upon the next year, taking great haste,
Aengus traveled to win the girl’s heart.
The pair of swans sealed their love with a swim
And vowed never again to part.
Religion (a free write)
Myth based in fact? Or fact based in myth? The concept of religion is one of the oldest debates in history. Every culture in the world has worshipped a chosen god or a variety of gods and spirits, but is religion based in fact or myth?
It is a question that may never be answered because no one truly knows. No one living today has concrete proof that any one religion is based wholly in fact. While there may be bits and pieces of verifiable fact in every religious story, that is what the largely remain – a story.
Religion is mainly a moral prescription of life. In the form of fables and narrative, it gives you a how and why for living a good, just life. A comparison of today’s major religions (and quite a few minor ones) will show common themes. “Honor thyself and thy family.” “Be kind and helpful in your community.” “Do not want for more than you have.” These are some of the basic tenets of religion across the world.
And how you live your life dictates how you spend your afterlife.
What religion requires that a lot of people have lost is the ability to believe. You have to be able to ignore that tiny part of your brain that says, “Wait!! Show me the proof that this actually happened!!” Without that ability to believe – the ability to put faith in something outside of yourself – you will never be able to embrace religion. No matter what flavor is offered, you’ll find it unappetizing. You’ll be unable to find the necessary power to fully believe.
So then, it leads me to ask…
Who is the more powerful man?
He who can step outside the confines of the conventional and trust his faith in the unknown and unseen?
Or he who cannot, even for a moment, suspend cynicism and disbelief to trust in a power outside himself?
It is a question that may never be answered because no one truly knows. No one living today has concrete proof that any one religion is based wholly in fact. While there may be bits and pieces of verifiable fact in every religious story, that is what the largely remain – a story.
Religion is mainly a moral prescription of life. In the form of fables and narrative, it gives you a how and why for living a good, just life. A comparison of today’s major religions (and quite a few minor ones) will show common themes. “Honor thyself and thy family.” “Be kind and helpful in your community.” “Do not want for more than you have.” These are some of the basic tenets of religion across the world.
And how you live your life dictates how you spend your afterlife.
What religion requires that a lot of people have lost is the ability to believe. You have to be able to ignore that tiny part of your brain that says, “Wait!! Show me the proof that this actually happened!!” Without that ability to believe – the ability to put faith in something outside of yourself – you will never be able to embrace religion. No matter what flavor is offered, you’ll find it unappetizing. You’ll be unable to find the necessary power to fully believe.
So then, it leads me to ask…
Who is the more powerful man?
He who can step outside the confines of the conventional and trust his faith in the unknown and unseen?
Or he who cannot, even for a moment, suspend cynicism and disbelief to trust in a power outside himself?
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