this was posted a bit back on JCG
playin w/events n mythical interpretations
the "Prince's tale (in the center of the tale)was written by Aneurisko
ordering a mug o mead
just before the setting sun
me thinks a flash o meteors spent
me last gold piece o memory
....."can ya lend me credit, mate?
or should i ransack this lively
establishment?
what say ye?
Ay....just before the setting sun
me thinks a flash of meteors spent
our last piece of memory
next to the summer’s horizon
Nay…no prophetess am I
…a mere barmaid resting a bit wit her weary dogs upon the table
cursing and mumbling
looking for a kind block to rub these weary feet
if spoken to the ear as such
a dream perhaps
its from the throws of angels when they speak from mugs o mead
the only sight these eyes might see
be all tha bawdy laughs
that these doors without a latch
and plop their sweaty selves
at tables of forgetfulness
(my buttocks bruised from playful grabs and crude appriciation
for the services I render)
not that they all come here for me
haha
but rather for the fair exchange of words and tales
some gross exaggerations of the place we set our dreams
and you?dear wayfarer
Why are you here????
Come to rest a bit before the storm of pilgrims burst these open doors
( bless this little tavern with the setting sun
and force there raucous caws
at those that serve)
yea prayer from me parched lips
stumbles out a bit
covering the lands o
just might be
but ask me to which god
i;ll laugh and tel ye "all"
I say drink up!
the honey water's sweet
leave coin and candle
to the ones that serve
and in exchange
I'll tell a tale passed by
in what i thought as dreams
you blocks know well
so cruel the gods
when tending all
instructions of the heart
the map of being
passed by shifting monns and tides
they yell and curse
“deliver the ambrosia or die”
(perhaps they said “and die’ )
but laid to confusion
such a task as lent to
now the crone
confusion's own
ah yes
they loved me for my beauty
yes i thought to willfully relinquish
hold the stance of natures
shift n tug
as now with nature's cause
new faces pass before the mirrors
now but still so clear
and purposed in the dance of change
but then again
they loved me for their beauty too
displays of plumes and squawks and caws and bidding to their beds
and each sought hard to find the gift
they felt potential
struggled
screamed
as eagles
“give me ambrosia!!!”
and i as womon
only knew to feed the children mother’s milk
an empty vessel then
AHHHH….but in the realm of dreams
I had tasted from the tree
you see i wake each day as sheba’s child
delighted in the counted breaths
that bring the scent of morning to this form
anticipating
yes! this is the day
and dance that child dance full of light
beginnings once again
dancing
spinning....
ah then
the point of arthur’s arrow through my heart!
too late
too late again
and i dispair….
But then the Thunder
larger than the roar of winds
an echo from the past
“deliver the ambrosia!!!!!!!!!
no one said
your task would be a whim or fancy
for your folly"
though loud i never tremble
though these urgent words are fierce and true
my heart did see it through
though frail and full of longing
yes i held these words
as just reminder
of the things i hoped to see
I saw
i saw
I see
he knew that it was me
well ..for a moment
there
i saw the spark of knowing in his eye
but with a smile and gestured wave dismissed
the vision as illusion
once again
as times before
he turned away
all matter was transformed
and no one saw
the senses all had in one truth revealed
the lifting veil
and so i…
( bolder to the truth)
placed heaven’s kiss upon his lips
ambrosia flowing sweet and pure
as urgent as the trembling in my heart that raised
this milk from deep
the first to raise the deep
from creation’s cauldron
that fair cauldron that serves only heroes
passed between us sweet as honey from the hive
and then he scolds me for the making with instructions
on deliverance
my heart
my heart
it bleeds
too late my love
you tasted the divine
received the ultimate alchemy
when tugging at my heart
as if a child to mother
begging for the breast
how could i not respond
and now without the proper means of telling all the truths
a fortnight
will reveal the rest
no rest
again
so set aside the pillows of comfort
lift the sword of truth
and call for the unicorn
your days are just
your days are full of truth
your only task
is not to falter
in your hope
all else will be revealed
but i falter
slowing to a gentle sip o brew
lat all these words see through
so goes the tale:
ahh solitary days among
wayfaring naves from sea and val
mountain paths n desert dry
there should be comfort from the fading sight of ages past
why do we keep returning to the arms
that sit by hearth and hear the stories told again?
this time once more to hear the sacred words?
but now
this time
my heart falls silent
as i gaze across the landscapes of the lore i lived to tell
the maiden crone of Lilyton
a former mer-bird child from most unlikely joining
(yea,dark an eve of lusting king and bawdy barmaids cries in drunken passion)
but then that's history
another tale of how she came to be
perhaps an evening when we run full course the best of tales
but there was dire events far late into the days
that past the innocence of child
or lust n play of maiden in the prime
for magic was afoot the moment that her song
burst from her first born sounds
that even fae of fields had come to see
(their curiosity)
so while the maid birth out of sweat n pain n cries
all bright orion’s stars sang songs near by
nature’s lights n flights
then sudden pour of tempest
from the clearest sky
baptism of events to harald some strange legacy
without the royal father to be seen
and how her life was spent
a middle child of slight demeanor
quiet there among the bawdy siblings
13 in a row
and lost within the crowd
her long absences to woods n sea was
welcome relief in time of little food and place to sleep
not one of all the kin
(perhaps her smallest brother Ben)
even saw the change beneath the waves
or flight above the trees
though magic was a thing of tales and night concerns
their eyes were elsewhere
watching for the fae n trolls of village legends
but i digress
these many tails of how the maid fell full
to scales beneath the waves
or rose like stars into the wind at night
on wings of red and blue
we’ll visit there again if breath should bless me
with a few more years
to tell the many tales of humble magic
there above as so below
it was in time
a lining of the stars
quite late into the time of graying
was the mer-bird souring high
……fine firey feathers spread that noone saw
above
a place once seen
and then rising there above this very vale
she saw the troubled knight
and heard his cries
across the field in rage and shouts
there was a flash of sword
and angry tears that flowed more torrents
than her dear beloved sea
this drew the merbird to his side
she nearly caught the edge of sword in all his blindness to her presence
flapping of the wings distracted him
but for a moment as he fast dismounted
with a howl of passion in his voice
falling to the earth as if a muslim in prayer
she listened to his tears and felt compassion for his plight
for she too had cried such tears for children lost
or kin that found their ways to other worlds
and as the stars in line and moon full silhouetted there
his beauty made her gasp
her heart at once fell full upon a place that’s only told in tale
the lifting veil
a vision of the Beloved
a recognition without word
she stayed far long into the night behind a tree
to listen to his words and hear his plight
and all the while the fae tugged at her sleeve to say
“deliver the Ambrosia”
he is the prince of northern lands
far from the contest of the dragon
mourning kin
he mourns the dark of days that brought him to this place
deliver him ambrosia!!!
and his heart can mend
to rule again
he wanders earth for all the ages past
and grieves his line
speaking tongues of angels
searching for the last dragon
that dies but to arise again
a forever contest ..hell upon this earth
that sets him to dispair
listen to his story that he tells the stars and moon “
the merbird listened with a heart that burst to open
once she heard his words
for there on top of all his pain was eloquence of spirit hiding
waiting to be born anew
the vision of his tale as clear as day
his curse
performed across the sky
as if his words had conjured up a painting from the masters
there in aw of truth
she echoed his tears as she listened
with a natural woman’s heart
his story........................
The Prince's Tale
______________________
Be sure
it's not because I prefer this Polar Stance
but because it is yet necessary
as being born
upon this Darkened Valley of Death
I set to Stage a Confrontation
in Witness of the gods...
and Mars, being bold as ever
rushed to see
face to face
which on the 9th
we set to contest...
He wasted much of his Flock
thinking to save his Satyr
whom I let go
or would have smote him dead
for all the proud raging he has made...
only for the Promise
he reconciled himself
and I relented
though it cost him
most his flock...
then I took to the deepest Dark
and strode upon the Templed Floors
of Hestia, upon whose Court
was Candelabra
heaved of Ivy, ancient as the Dawn
and Lave
set before the Oaken Sanctuary
of her dreaded Memory...
I did not linger there
but quick, like one who strays
from whorehouse to Sanctum
off those Earthen Floors
and squatted upon the Edge
asking out loud in awed wonder-
what manner of Shrine is this?!
I knew where I was
and what I was doing
not so Surprised as I confess
but it is Potent
to stride upon the Sacred
as if dreaming
though full awake
and Face to Face in Time
or Eternity, together met
see what others only imagine...
as if one on the sudden
as tangible as the Rock
put their hands upon the Horns
and shook the Heaven's Corners.
It was during this these days
and sometime till about the 11th
that I made contest with the Dragon
Face to Face...
for he could not deny
any longer
what I had done, or was doing
to unravel his devices
and wring down
his corrupt Princes
of this World
and fix them
upon the Alter.
If I could say
what it was like
to Face this Serpent
I would compare
what it would be
for the Sparrow
to front upon a Lion...
and he growled
as if in scoff
of my little form.
I did not care
though I knew
how awful was his Force
and how raging he would make
on me and mine
if I did not pierce him through.
So, I showed him some Surprise
which he may have guessed
but doubted
being so accustomed
to have his way
with mere men...
on the Sudden
I clasped my Belt
strung my Gauntlet
and pulled it tight
reached for my Hammer
and rung him on the Head
such a blow
as made him dizzy...
while he was dazed
and stumbling backward
I was patient
gave a chuckle
and turned aside
to grasp my Boots of Iron
pulling them up
watching him still
shaking his head
amazed
from my Alabaster Box
grabbed the Pearly Stone
and bent my way upon him...
we were caught up in the Air
as if the Heavens ordained
the Contest
and all around
the Hosts came Rushing...
I laughed out loud
and Athene roared to my side
not too close
for she is want
to let things be
but is first among the embattled.
As if passing a note
between lovers
who do not wish others see
what their romantic way means
when they play together
and flirt their hearts for Friendship
she passed me her Aegis
just then yanked
from out the Golden Hall
and I
winking at her
strode upon the now raging Beast
under foot, my Peacocks Tail.
What could he do?
But Face to Face
he met his match in Me
and
opening his vast Maw
in thought to gulp me down
flew upon me...
with my Left foot
I caught his upper jaw
which Viper's Trap
pierced through my Heel
and with my Right
stomped on his lower...
there we turned and twisted in the Air
Gold and Red and Green
flashing thunders
Blue and White streaming
like Flame from out the Match.
Such roaring men cannot imagine
or if they could
let them remember
what Helena performed
not long ago
and covered most the Land
West of the Mississippi
and laid low whole forests
in the Blast.
Now I had him
though he had me too
and all the Hosts held their breath
anticipating what to come
may prove of Ancient Hope
as the darling child
of Cere's Hearth
had grown mature
and had no longer relaxed
the fierce intention
to remedy the Wrong of Aeons.
From my Purse
I drew out the Pearly Stone
and raising it on the Air
screamed bloody murder
shaking the Gorgon's Shield
in his Face
then let fly
the Stone down his Maw...
it was the rending of Mountains
but soon enough I recovered it
and like the Physician
draws poison from a wound
drew out the Stone
and placed it back
where it belonged.
So as he coughed and spewed
and shook Chaos from his Mane
I clasped him by the neck
and ripped his spinal scales
from off him
like a zealous Groom
might rip the dress
from off his sweaty
and ambitious Bride
within their Chamber...
I snapped it like a whip
from off him
and with a breath
turned scales to chain of Ruby
and flung it back
where Athene, yet in wait
wrung it on the Air
in shout of Victory
as the Hosts clamored
stomping on the Benches
of their Seven Fold Arena.
Ares hastened then
more close than the rest
save Athene
and Apollo with his bow
and Hephaestus...
each had a work now
and I waved them on-
Come catch him!
Ares gripped him by the tail
and underneath
they set to fix this Monger...
Apollo bent his Golden Bow
and pierce him through the gut;
like a Hook
it turned again
and wrenched him firm
the Line of Time tied tight
while Hephaestus
his finest Metal block in hand
clapped it to the String
and looking up
they winked...
I yanked my Left from off his Tooth
and drew back my Right
we all stepped away upon the Air
and down he fell
roaring and twisting
all Dismayed...
we all chuckled
and as he fell
I shouted-
Good luck with That...
it is the best Magnet
he ever made!
Below, the Naiads waited
standing up to their waists
in the Sea
and watched him fall
roaring all the way
and smoking Rage of Torment...
Princesses among them
stood together
watching all the while
and glad for the Event
for they knew
how long this Fiend
had frothed their Waters
and let loose men
to cruel abuse
of their darling pets.
Here he comes...
make ready, one said
and another
holding in hand
a crystal jar
charged with Lightning Seed
they whittled off Neptune's Triton
when he slept
and they combed his tresses...
standing together
yet another
in playful taunting asked her
who held the Vessel-
Can you throw it that far?
They all laughed
and she replied
with a wink-
not so far as he shall fall
but far enough for him to know
we have not forgot
his wrong upon the Sacred Hearth...
and she cried-
this is for Persephone!
then aiming well
she tossed it...
which just under
the Dragon's Course of falling
plopped upon the glassy Sea
and sunk before him.
Another, holding Demeter's Sickle
raised up her arm
and flung it down the deep
in equal aim
and just upon the Verge of the Sea
when this wretched Monger
would have quenched his raging
BOOM
the Sickle met the Crystal Urn
and opened up a Chasm
and as Moses parted the Wave
so the Sea
like a toilet drain
sucked down a Funnel of Torrent
and the Beast fell still
upon the Air
and every step of falling
his hope to quench their Ire
escaped him
like Sisyphus
and pending on his Capture
Neptune blew upon his Rocks
and smote the Deep Abyss
another Falling...
so he Fell, and Fell, and Fell
while all the Hosts
sung Hurrahs of Victory
and Praised their Ancient Hope
which Generation proved in Time
and wrought forth
their Golden Child
from Demeter's Lap
and Gaia's sweet dream
their Force of Knowing All!
Ainu
Aser
Azeroth
_____________________________
once told
the knight seemed silent and at rest
as if the words released him from the hold of this dire curse
he mounted once again and formed composure
to continue on his quest
not far behind
the merbird followed to the tavern that her very kin resided
was a ways n means of keeping
with the many mouths to feed
children and grandchildren
numbering plentiful
she too had tended all the pilgrims
in the past and heard tales told of such a prince
but never had she thought it but a tale
just as she stepped into the wooden tavern
stepped across the floor worn slick for years o patrons
waltzing in for milder pleasures
she felt a fae still close at hand
in pleading words
“deliver the ambrosia!!!!
and all your days will be well spent
give back the legacy you hold
tis the rightful owner
only good can come from such”
i whispered back
“but what if i should die?”
she giggled as if i had made the words to inspire mirth and laughter
she squealed in measures of bird calls
“so many times we die and rise.,
what small a gift for such a prince.
deliver the ambrosia
for the long life
love's vessel carries us through eons
without a thought for self, she found a mug o mead
to set before this vision on the bench.
he thanked her then and placed a smile upon his face.
said he, “my middle maid, have we but met before? “
“perhaps, kind prince, in ages past.”
“how is it that you know a prince without his garb?”
his gentle eyes fell soft across her face
as if in search for light to rise.
and placed his hand upon her arm to thank her for the mead.
as if a shock of thunder there within her simple form
an ocean rose
and opened all the gates
with rush of wisdom
knowledge of this place to be
the crux of time
suspended
filled her veins
and poured into the streams of life
without a thought of protocol or consequence of gesture
fast and gentle as the flight of birds
she place an open kiss upon that mouth
the very mouth
that earlier had spoke the quest to stars
he never moved or backed away but smiled and said
“you mean like this?”
“sweet as the honey from the hive.”
and placed three more upon her lips.
all life was now transformed
with tears she left the tavern
winged and scaled
to darkened wood
the all was passed
her heart was one
the ending of a tale begun
fast to the wood
fell to the earth and cried
knowing that the subtle gift would change them both
the prince was not so far behind and stumbled in the dark
to see the cause of flight
and in this stumbling stepped
heavy pained and bruised
upon her arm that blended with the night
her cry was not the pain of being under foot
but knowing of the changes
setting both to speak she dried her tears and spoke
the sacred words
the language of the birds
with this they found a dream that spent there magic on the earth
a simple kiss that found and formed
the poles of mere divinity
and every sacred gesture there is sacrifice
willing captives
sparks of stars upon the winds
seeding worlds of being
all these words took flight
formed vessels spoken
far into the night
until the all was spent to rest
so why
you wonder
tell such tale
no ever after
queen
or king
to take a throne?
…the merbird died that night
and left a simple woman to extend to crone
when morn came past concordance
he no longer knew his own and
asked with passion in his heart
“where is my maiden fair?”
then turned away continuing his quest
without a notice to the lighter state of being in his walk
the wisdom of solomon
now poured from his song
when riding cross the golden fields
of alchemy
the song of ancient's future past
for now
Beloved is his name at last
