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Scifi poem

I found this poem I wrote some unknown time ago. I was considering publishing it, but I wouldn't know where, and it's so much work for so long to do that, I just don't want to go to that much trouble when I could just hit "post entry." And it's such an amazing poem! Told from the perpective of... well, you'll see.


“The Brown, The Green, and The Black”
By = Tempest Alexandria Arts

The white man took the world, spreading out among its lands by sea,
Exploiting all they touched, stealing the land from the people already there.
They stole the New World from the natives, killing the Red Man,
Bringing the Black Man from Africa as slaves to work for them.

They went to China, spread drug addiction and misery, for their profit,
And India for spices they never use, spreading misery to the cradle of writing.
Every bit of land they could find they took for theirs,
Exploiting its people even into the 21st century.

The white man went into space, and found no resources, no people to exploit,
So they grew bored with it, for the most part.
Sure, they sent their robots out to fly by far-off worlds,
Touched the moon a few times with their men, but then stopped.
“There's nothing in space but black,” they said,
Upset they'd made no green.

When the people of India and China started going up there, they scoffed.
“We wasted all that money going up there; they're not learning from our mistakes!”
They told us all there was in space was rocks and more rocks,
Forgetting there was a time when all we had were rocks;
All they let us have as they raped our lands were stones.

Like weeds growing in the sidewalk, they tried to kill us off,
So they could keep our lands for themselves.
But like weeds growing in the sidewalk, we persisted.
For life would always find a way, and we still lived.

We found the barren rocks they'd abandoned,
And grew like weeds among them.
In the black, we – the brown – made green.
The green of growth, as we built giant rotating farms in the sky.

From India and China, from Japan, from Africa,
From the Middle East, from the New World,
All the brown and red and yellow, every color but white,
Worldwide, we came together and spread through the black,
Making stone soup, growing life among the stars.

The white man still owns the earth, but we own the stars,
With colonies on the moon, the asteroids, and Mars.
And the moons of Jupiter and Saturn, and beyond.
Millions of acres of farm and factory, raking in two kinds of green.
Feeding humanity, the breadbasket of the solar system is no longer earth.

And the white man? They are tourists with their cameras,
The old Japanese stereotype passed on to them,
As they marvel at all we've built, at all the green,
The same color they've become, with envy,
Because they were too 'yellow' to make green among the black,
Leaving that to the brown.
To us.

This was cross-posted from http://fayanora.dreamwidth.org/1346612.html
You can comment either here or there.

A lewd limerick

There once was a man in Nantucket,
Who married a man born in Phucket.
He got up one day,
Realized he was gay,
And now he bends over to suck it.

This was cross-posted from http://fayanora.dreamwidth.org/1341717.html
You can comment either here or there.

Tags:

"Capitalism Is Cannibalism."

Hey, [personal profile] svaenohr and [personal profile] alex_antonin collaborated on a poem called "Capitalism Is Cannibalism." It's pretty cool.

This was cross-posted from http://fayanora.dreamwidth.org/1283692.html
You can comment either here or there.

Chaos To Chaos, a poem

I tend to have this problem, wherein I am usually a firm believer in an afterlife and reincarnation, but sometimes - usually at night when I'm trying to go to sleep - I get worried and terrified of death, thinking "What if there is no afterlife? What if there is no soul and nothing happens to us at death but blinking out of existence?"1 Well, since my main Goddess is a Chaos Goddess, I wrote up something that started as an attempt to make a simple chant or mantra or something to reassure myself that, if that turns out to be the case, it won't matter then. But I had too many ideas to fit into one mantra, so I made an entire poem about it. And here that is:

“Chaos To Chaos”
By = Tempest Alexandria Arts (Fayanora)

From Chaos I came and to Chaos I will return.
“I” am a complicated dance of quintillions of tiny points of energy, and my soul is the choreographer.
When the choreographer departs and the dance is over, the dancers will join other dances.
We're all choreographers of our own dancing energy, the only choreographers we can know in this life.
“I” am a temporary pattern in the chaos, in a temporary world, in a temporary universe;
All of us patterns in the Chaos,
Ever changing from second to second,
All of us sand paintings in the wind.

From Void I came and to Void I will return.
My life is a pebble in a pond, making ripples, the only thing left of my life when I am gone.
I shall not fear death, for I am not real;
I am like a virtual particle blinking in and out of existence, in the grand scheme of things;
A virtual particle in a holographic universe, the Multiverse every bit as ephemeral.
All of it whispers heard in static,
“Objective reality” via shared programming,
All of it a hard drive in an EMP.

From Naught I came, and to Naught I will return.
I shall not fear death, for I am just a temporary tempest of what-ifs and uncollapsed quantum states.
I am a hurricane contemplating its own eventual landfall.
I am a raindrop watching the ground approach at speed, contemplating the sudden stop.
I am a single breath, from the lungs to the blood, contemplating being exhaled.
All of us lightning in a storm,
Gone as quickly as we appear,
And all the world is the storm.

From Change I came, and to Change I will return.
I am like Jupiter's Great Red Spot, in a constant state of stable chaos.
But like all things, the stability will fail, the tempest will fall apart.
We are never not Change, it is the only constant in life;
Even death is just one facet of Change.
All of us are hurricanes,
Complex, multi-layered, and doomed to landfall,
But spinning off descendants before we do.

From Death I came, and to Death I will return.
My life is a fire, my body made of the ashes of other patterns tossed like logs onto my fire.
When my fire goes out, I will be a log tossed on the fires of other beings,
My ashes recycled, remade, reused; Life and Death eternal dance partners,
Entropy and Enthalpy embrace like lovers on the dance floor.
Gaia's biosphere is the phoenix,
Dying and being reborn from its own ashes;
The biosphere is Ouroboros eating itself.

From Peace I came, and to Peace I will return.

~ ~ ~

1 = Note that I never worry that the afterlife is worse, like Hell or something. I either believe in my own version of the afterlife, or I worry death is final.

This was cross-posted from http://fayanora.dreamwidth.org/1281404.html
You can comment either here or there.

Morphahr Seh Taekah

Amy's grandmother recently died, and she has been naturally very upset. Last night I wrote this poem in honor of this woman I have never met, but who helped shape Amy into the wonderful young woman she is now:

“Morphahr Seh Taekah”
uuj = Fayanora Ahnabahn Tahlahmorgk

Karendai, grehn karendohr,
Karendai, uugaam morshaun,
Ko'kiln grehn, moisahl la aipahlih,
Tulon ehg mostaiso karendai-laniah,
Fiiehl bainah sada jophwaan.

Sehk sada zirrovais, grehj zirrkah kororra ahl;
Veh ulinit ihndohn voshet ahglor uugaam jayrahl.
Foht soh'kahlik, uugaam bain flo grehj zirrovais,
Ben morphahr seh taekah morphaikez.

Translation:

Despair, we weep,
Despair, they sleep,
Below us, under the world;
Yet as (we) feel despair-everlasting,
It is not their final farewell.

With their soul(s), ours is always one.1
And some day we'll see them joyously.
For present, they are in our heart,
The fire of love burning.

~ ~ ~

What I like best about it is that it rhymes in both languages, though the rhyme pattern is different. The pattern for the TPNN version is: ABCCB DDEE, while the English is AABCD EFGH. Okay, so not a great rhyme scheme, and not done on purpose really, but still interesting.

1 = The zirrkah is the part of the soul that lives in other people, so this is not an exact translation. But it's the best English can do.

This was cross-posted from http://fayanora.dreamwidth.org/1205286.html
You can comment either here or there.

Poem of No-Praise For The Orphan-Maker

"Poem of No-Praise For The Orphan-Maker"
A Gosgolot poem
ABAB

Though we're thankful for his rays,
Which keep the cold of Void at bay,
We dare not offer up our praise
Unto the ruthless lord of day
For fear his burning, staring eye,
That glares upon us from the skies,
Will notice us and make us die,
For he is more than Water's Demise.

Though we're grateful to our Host,
We pray he'll never notice us,
For we've no wish to be burnt toast,
And so we dare not raise a fuss
For fear The Screaming Death will wake
From his howling nightmare song
And cause us all to burn and bake
For doing something all too wrong.

Though we're grateful for his heat,
We dare not give him any prayer,
For if he heard us mewling meat,
He might then burn away the air,
So him don't summon, nor dare you call,
The Monarch of Ashes, not even once!
Just glance in fear at the Eye Which Burns All,
The Daily Reminder of Our Insignificance.

Instead we offer this No-Praise,
Aimed into the NIGHT time sky,
Quietly thankful for all our days,
Grateful that we're still alive.
The only prayer we give the night
Is to our Gods with mortal past,
To protect us from The Lord of Light,
In hopes these breaths won't be our last.

We also pray to our Kin Divine
To hear our constant, daily fears,
And on our love, attention, dine
So we may live a few more years.
And, oh Kindred, do also please
Take away our grief and pain,
Our burdens we need help to ease.
Sahn-kia, Koh Soh La Kohrain.

This was cross-posted from http://fayanora.dreamwidth.org/1170700.html
You can comment either here or there.

I am as a star

“I Am As A Star”
A poem of the Gosgolot faith from Traipah

I am as a star, my light burning bright.
I am as a star, howling into the void.
I am as a star, a twinkle in the night.
I am as a star, my screams of defiance echo through eternity!

I am as a star, I roar with heat and flame.
I am as a star, I display my might.
I am as a star, I forever scream my name.
I am as a star, death can never defeat me!

I am as a star, I bring both life and death.
I am as a star, I honor my fallen prey.
I am as a star, and with my dying breath,
I will ensure my sacrifice betters all life.

This was cross-posted from http://fayanora.dreamwidth.org/1158380.html
You can comment either here or there.

Poem I wrote about depression

"Depression Is"
by= Tristan A. Arts

Depression is a constant, never-ending cycle of stress,
With lots of ups and downs.
The ups are not escapes, just reprieves,
As fleeting as a mayfly in the antarctic.

Depression is a background radiation of frustration,
Life is never good enough no matter how hard you try.
There's always something, even if it's just a feeling,
As hard to shake off as a psychotic stalker.

Depression is never having enough energy,
No matter how simple the task may be.
Even things I want to do, I can't,
Without a lot of breaks.

Depression is my emotions stuck on negative,
Stealing my ability to choose happiness.
Positive thinking doesn't help,
And affirmations only ring hollow.

Depression is NOT constant sadness;
Usually, it's a neutral state close to, or including, apathy.
Mixed, often, with stress, frustration, and general malaise,
Sometimes with good reason, but usually without.

Depression is like trying to drive a car
That is never in the right gear,
And there is no way to fix the "transmission"
Because nobody in the world even knows how it works.

Depression is being at constant war with your body,
Mysterious aches and pains coming and going all the time,
Because the TV ads have it correct:
Depression hurts.

Depression is a problem in the hardware of the brain,
Not in the software of the mind.
You can't just choose to be happy and normal,
Any more than you can read a CD with a muffler.

Depression is trying lots of different treatments,
That may or may not work, all with different side effects.
For all that scientists know about the brain,
Anti-depressants may as well be trepanning.

And most of all, depression is not a choice.
Telling me to "just get over it" doesn't help.
I can no more stop being depressed than
A cancer patient can just "choose" to be cured.

This was cross-posted from http://fayanora.dreamwidth.org/1115506.html
You can comment either here or there.

“A Prayer To The Elements”

“A Prayer To The Elements”
By = Fayanora Ahnabahn Tahlahmorgk / Tristan A. Arts

By the power of Air so swift and fleet,
By the power of its mighty gale,
I call on The North, on Kriioh's realm,
To fill my billowing sail.

By the power of Metal so strong and sharp,
By the power of its shiny gleam,
I call on The East, on Shao-Kehn's realm,
To be my load-bearing beam.

By the power of Light so pure and bright,
By the power of its loving rays,
I call on The South, on Yinianata's realm,
To warm up all of my days.

By the power of Water so mighty and old,
By the power of its tallest wave,
I call on The West, oh Ahndahn's realm,
To wash my troubles away.

By the power of Fire so hot and bright,
By the power of its purification,
I call on Above, on Morphwaan's realm,
To fill my enemies with trepidation.

By the power of Earth so solid and true,1
By the power of its tallest peak,
I call on Below, on Kusunia's realm,
To empower me when I need to speak.

By the power of Thought so magick and grand,
By the power of its potent protection,
I call on Within, on Nahtahdjaiz's realm,
To give my whole life good direction.

By the power of Void so empty and vast,
By the power of its vacuum so bare,
I call on Without, on Morshenda's realm,
To make all obstacles cease to be there.

By the power of Spirit so free and pervasive,
By the power of its loving light clear,
I call on The All, on Kohraindehr's realm,
To banish the shadows of fear.

**END**


1 = Alternative verse for Earth:

By the power of Earth so deep and immense,
By the power of its greatest earthquakes,
I call on Below, on Kusunia's realm,
To make my enemies wail and shake.

This was cross-posted from http://fayanora.dreamwidth.org/1096741.html
You can comment either here or there.

Several poems

The first two poems are based on the nine elements and directions of Yahgahn.

“Heil to the Elements”1
By = Fayanora Ahnabahn Tahlahmorgk

Heil Shao'Kehn, Goddess of Chaos, Guardian of the East and elemental Metal; Her Knife protects us from harm! Heil!
Heil Yinianata, Goddess of Tame Fire, Guardian of the South and elemental Light; Her flames fuel civilization! Heil!
Heil Ahndahn, Goddess of Order, Guardian of the West and elemental Water! Her Waters quench all thirsts! Heil!
Heil Kriioh, Goddess of The Cold, Guardian of the North and elemental Air; Her chill winds sooth a heated world! Heil!
Heil Morphwaan, Goddess of Wild Fire, Guardian of Above and elemental Fire; Her light, the plasma fire of the sun, is our life blood! Heil!
Heil Kusunia, Goddess of Stone and Soil, Guardian of Below and elemental Earth; She is solidity and strength, the bones of creation! Heil!
Heil Nahtahdjaiz, Child Goddess of Children, Guardian of Within and elemental Consciousness; the child within us all is the fuel of consciousness and the soul of magick! Heil!
Heil Morshenda, Goddess of Darkness, Guardian of Without and elemental Void; within the darkness is quiet and solace and dreams! Heil!
Heil Kohraindehr, Deity of The All, Guardian of All Directions and elemental Spirit; all living beings are Gods and siblings within Her! Heil!
      Sahn-kia, kohrain da-pahtuuah! Koh Soh La Kohrain!2


“The Nine Elements”
By = Fayanora Ahnabahn Tahlahmorgk

Air in the North, cold and stark,
Light in the South, banishing dark.
Metal at East, hard and strong,
Water at West, waves roll along.
Fire Above, making things grow,
And Earth, of course, is down Below.
Go Within, there's Consciousness/Thought,
And out Without is Void, which is naught.
Spirit's the element of Existence's soul,
For it is The All, it is The Whole.
And so, by these elements numbering nine,
Comes all of space and all of time.


“Thiio Shaokehnzah”
By = Fayanora Ahnabahn Tahlahmorgk
(AKA Tristan A. Arts)

This one is in TPNN, translation provided.Collapse )

1 = Yes, this is "Heil" in German. So it rhymes with "pile."
2 = "Sahn-kia, kohrain da-pahtuuah! Koh Soh La Kohrain!" means "Many-thanks, all deities! You Are The All!"
3 = “Ahnabahn” actually means “sacredperson,” referring to clergy of unspecified gender, since theAh'Koi Bahnis have only one sex.
4 = “Djao'Kain” is another name for the Goddess Shao'Kehn.

This was cross-posted from http://fayanora.dreamwidth.org/1091365.html
You can comment either here or there.

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