Reanimating Lazarus

What a cruel act of necromancy-
To be led so-far-down,
The shining path.

To gaze upon the face; Merkaba,
Weightless and absolved.

Then, suddenly, summoned by the master-
Ordered to assume
That disheveled relic.

Wear that weathered face
In good humor again.

Greet the curious crowds with
A wrenched up
Toothless smile.

Shudders to rouse atrophy,
Out enervated muscle.

Eager to wash the sense of that stolen gift,
From cradles of
Massed meat.

And I should wonder, if he did
Secretly spite his modest savior?

Who was too absorbed-
in refute of gratitude
To notice, none is given.

*****************************************
Lux Ferre

Lo! My snake amid
Th’ gardens grass, slinking
Su’tly.

‘Sn’t th’ apple bright
Wi’ beautiful blush
Upon th’ tree?

Eh!…knowledge, such
An evil, tempting thing!

****************************************************
Odin’s Hymn

“God, deliver us from the fury of the Northmen”
Early European prayer for protection from Scandinavian warriors

‘Silence the wench!
Silence the wench,
Or I shall speak no more!
Quell her tongue
In a bowl of hell flame;
Or, I shall speak no more!
For this is no quickening,
The meager blood shed
Upon the alter of eternity.
Here is no death;
Only belligerent blasphemy,
As I cast from me the securities.

(This is my
Manifest destiny;
This is my
Reign of hypocrisy!)

The Goat stands on the mountain-
Laughing;
The Bull lie in the valley-
Maimed;
The Hermit is in the wave thrush-
Singing;
“Bring out your dead”
The Twins are on the cliffs edge-
Mourning;
Cradling one another’s head!

Can you sense the awful taste of time?
Can you see the feeble trace of rhyme;
Contradicting each and every line?

What vague concept stirs?
What churned cloud
Of diabolical intention,
Collaborates, to undermined my edifice?
A weakness, so profound, it torments.
There is dimension, shape, color-
Even though I am uncertain of its intent-
It is an object.
Maybe,
Must be realized-
Brought into…
Examined under light!

O you who think
You’re the only ones,
Who can summon the moon;
And dismiss the sun!
Heed this warning writ
In careful runescript-
Tombscript:

There will be no mercy shadow-
No grace of covenant, no security;
There will be no quarter given!
When dexterous digits, plot to plunder,
Descend to destroy, probing deeper,
Fingers plunge, to touch a center-
Stir a path of pain,
All death refused to heal.

Here,
Rest upon your nose, is my blade!
Look hard, Witness!
Steel saber, Iron hilt,
And upon the shaft, strange engraving.
How methodical the impatient tongue-
Come has the time of reckoning!
My sward is in my hand;
Be quick with the blood!’