Tag: poetry

  • For Love’s Sake

    Image of a person descending a staircase from a lit background into darkness.

    Mother of all being and space,
    divided to give berth to face
    of shadow mirroring spark: 
    two halves enfolded in your grace.
    Your children render limits stark—
    loving the light, hating the dark.

    So we, burdened by excess light
    witness each brutal, daily fight—
    powerless to make them cease—
    but longing for the cooling night
    for dreaming of our soft bodies
    to drain our weariness in ease.

    So we, tense with constant sound—
    like voltage never finding ground—
    speak words devoid of any truth.
    Before all meaning has been drowned
    we pray your silence give us soothe
    and sharpen utterance’s tooth.

    So we, running to keep ahead
    of swollen bellies bearing dread,
    see monsters in what makes us still—
    for they compel us to be wed
    to grief, sorrow, and pain until
    deceiving heroes’ blood is spilled.

    So we, under compulsion of clock
    choking our needs within the lock
    of narrative, linear time,
    seek freedom, soaring as the hawk
    toward myth, where spirts prime
    and in eternal spirals climb.

    So we, fearing our emptiness
    gorge ourselves on plenteous
    sensations to stifle lust—
    teacher waiting in readiness
    to guide us to whom we must
    our spacious of soul entrust. 

    In darkness may our light renew—
    twinned lovers who are not two—
    and push past this duality
    to honor the glory that is You,
    Great One whose vitality
    lay beyond mere morality.

  • If You Dislike a Maxim, Make Your Own

    After Gertrude Stein

    Do for yourself what you persistently do for others wishing they would do for you.

    Do for yourself what you persistently wish others would do for you.

    Persistently ask of others what you would them do for yourself.

    Wish for yourself the persistence of what others do for you.

    Persist in wishing for yourself what others would do for you.

    Wish others would do what you persistently do for them.

    Wish for yourself what you persistently do for others.

    Do for your persistent wishes what you do for others.

    For others persistently do what you wish for yourself.

    For yourself do persistently what you wish of others.

    Wish persistently for others while doing for yourself.

    Persistently wish others to do for yourself.

    Do persistently what you wish.

    Wish for others.

    Do for you.

    Persist.

  • Hymn to Amun in the Time of Revelation

    Amun was one of many deities in Kemetic theology who created the cosmos, known as “The Hidden One.” Gratitude to David Klotz for his paper “Adoration of the Ram: Five Hymns to Amun-Re from Hibis Temple.” Full text of poem at bottom of post.

    Hymn to Amun in the Time of Revelationby Anthony RellaEye of empty
space: witness
the unweaving
of untempered
faith occluding
truth, reflecting
who we are
in your iris,
glaring mirror.
    I. SunWe circle you
in joy, anger.
Spiral horns
shred infinity
into particular,
cracking dams
releasing rivers
of endless light.
Eternal help
and burden
piercing matter,
making bodies
into your altar.
    II. MoonFirst heartbeat,
beat of night
and body,
nation and tide,
distributing
ease and guilt,
grief and delight.
Feasting dog,
consuming shit,
offering seeds
in nightmare.
    III. WindGreat sky cow,
giving to us
nourishing milk
of broad view
beyond opposition.
We sacrifice
the knowledge
of a grassblade
to you who eats
the entire field.
With your lungs
filter particulates
from this storm
sifting the meaning
from mere survival.
    IV. WaterUngoverned gator,
devour without
apology the burden
of leaden hearts.
    V. EarthBelly of the serpent
in whom ancestors
sing aliveness for us,
pressing against stone
digesting pain to joy.
All feeling is offering
in testament to being.
Your lesson: loosen
what is dry and tight,
exposing tenderness;
unveiling life restored.

    Hymn to Amun in the Time of Revelation
    by Anthony Rella

    Eye of empty 
    space: witness 
    the unweaving
    of untempered 
    faith occluding 
    truth, reflecting
    who we are
    in your iris,
    glaring mirror.

    I. Sun

    We circle you 
    in joy, anger.
    Spiral horns 
    shred infinity
    into particular, 
    cracking dams
    releasing rivers
    of endless light.
    Eternal help
    and burden
    piercing matter,
    making bodies
    into your altar. 

    II. Moon 

    First heartbeat, 
    beat of night
    and body,
    nation and tide,
    distributing
    ease and guilt,
    grief and delight.
    Feasting dog,
    consuming shit,
    offering seeds
    in nightmare.

    III. Wind 

    Great sky cow,
    giving to us 
    nourishing milk
    of broad view
    beyond opposition.
    We sacrifice
    the knowledge
    of a grassblade
    to you who eats
    the entire field.
    With your lungs
    filter particulates
    from this storm
    sifting the meaning
    from mere survival.


    IV. Water

    Ungoverned gator,
    devour without
    apology the burden
    of leaden hearts.

    V. Earth 

    Belly of the serpent
    in whom ancestors
    sing aliveness for us,
    pressing against stone
    digesting pain to joy.
    All feeling is offering
    in testament to being.
    Your lesson: loosen
    what is dry and tight,
    exposing tenderness;
    unveiling life restored.

  • Something Beautiful is Happening Today

    A person posed with an ecstatic expression, behind whom is blue sky and cloud.
    Photo by Jaie Miller on Unsplash

    Awake. Tongue tracing crisp
    contours of air. Skin warmed,
    eye illumined, red and green
    cells fueled by the teacher
    of generosity, whose passion
    daily enters our world, meets
    the land, generates newness.
    Though your tears blur light
    into halos, new needles green
    from pine. Your breath offers
    another chance to love, though
    a thicket of thorn encircles you
    and the brush of softness causes
    your teeth and fists to clench.
    The land is an altar upon which
    to dedicate your bones to joy.
    The wind gathers your tension
    from the effort of forcing sense
    upon the mystery of another day.
    The river whispers the victory
    of yielding, leading you to dark
    space beyond any lover’s touch—
    the relentless play of the heart.

  • Poem: This maddening itch in my heart is like–

    This maddening itch in my heart is like–

    by Frank Vincentz

    • poison woven into tissue,
      sepsis radiating from the site
      where unspoken words putrefy
      in anger and hope, toxifying
      blood, anxious for salve.
    • dreams and wishes withering
      under reality’s hot sun, lost;
      an empty hole in a brick wall
      betraying its completion;
      absence yearning for touch.
    • desire unnamed, the chafing
      of which tears the hole wider,
      fraying thread and loosening
      buttons until the entire fabric
      compels thorough refashioning.
    • a deep wound beginning to heal,
      pain throbbing and dissolving
      per some strange rhythm, work
      which scratching would undo,
      requiring patience, toleration.

     

  • forgetting a home you’ve never known

    The Spirit of Phinney Ridge

    Children
    you are alien
    upon me,
    travelers pausing,
    eating the flesh
    of other lands,
    drinking the water
    of other streams,
    wearing the skin
    of other herds,
    ignorant
    of the names
    of my beasts
    and leaves.
    You circle
    without end
    forgetting
    a home
    you’ve never
    known.
    What you imagine
    among the stars
    dwells within
    this space.
    Align to me,
    orient
    to the shadows
    cast upon me.
    Dissolve
    your fences.
    Root down
    in my soil,
    my sorrow,
    my dark soul.
    Feed from me,
    sleep in me,
    love on me,
    surrender
    your dead
    to me.
    Nourish me
    with tears
    and blood,
    lay words
    like stones
    upon my back.
    Be chilled
    by my grief,
    warmed
    by my laughter.
    There is no I
    apart
    from you.
    Join your eye
    to mine.

    – A. Rella

  • In honor of all women and all feminities

    Seven Forms of Het-Heru

    Lady of the Universe

    You in whom spirit is housed
    and given sustenance pour
    bliss and suffering from manifold
    udders, streaming milk across
    ink-oceans blooming with galaxies.
    In jubilation, all beings honor You.
    Eternal recurrence is Your crown,
    the twelve patterns of all seasons.

    Unable to find source artist—if known, please notify me.

    Sky-Storm

    Western terror, You scatter
    tiny nations that choke
    the land of HeruSet. Cobra
    of Ra, You strike the enemies
    of Ma’at without justification.

    You from the Land of Silence

    Hollowness of bone, deep
    tone of silence emanating
    from the great still sky; You
    offer Your beloved the secret,
    the emptiness of wisdom.

    Bright Red

    You are Ra entering the chamber
    of sleep and sex, unveiling mystery
    to craving hands and eyes starved
    of sensuality: the delight of mocha
    skin, cords of hair falling like rope
    to lift supplicants from their longing.

    Your Name Flourishes through Skill

    Inspiration given to disciples,
    not the amateur’s flourish,
    but those who listen daily
    and attempt Your work anew.
    Blankness and raw material
    is Your temple within which
    pen, brush, or chisel textures
    and imprints color and motion,
    revealing Your secret name.

    Lady of the House of Jubilation

    Stand, children of Nut and Geb,
    for every moment offers you joy.
    Blessings on She who loves
    and opens her breast to your
    weakness, your bitterness.
    Even after years of famine,
    the harvest will return. Tears
    of salt and dust will change
    to the storm-song of laughter.

    Mistress of the East & West

    Dual-headed Het-Her,
    Your arms trace the path
    of Ra’s barque across space,
    opening the gates of return
    and emergence, wiping
    clean the keening mouths
    and soothing restless hearts:
    waking to die, dying to wake.

    NOTE: I had not planned to post this poem, but in light of the recent horrific event and the renewed conversation about misogyny’s poisonous influence in culture and role in perpetuating violence against women, I decided to offer this in honor of all women and all feminine people by celebrating this particular Goddess, also known as Hathor. As a male-identified person, I see my role as helping to reconstruct masculinity and maleness to create a more just and safer culture for people of all genders. 

    Further reading:

    Dear News Media: UCSB shooting is a hate crime

    If I Admit That ‘Hating Men’ is a Thing, Will You Stop Turning it into a Self-Fulfilling Prophecy?

    Teaching Positive Masculinity

    Against Patriarchy: 20 Tools for Men to Further Feminist Revolution

    Dude, It’s You

  • To Eris

    Eris, Goddess of Strife by VP-Manips

    Subtle Twin, whose hand stirs
    the cauldron of space,
    twinkling chaos in grace:
    unlock the closets, unrust
    neglected doors, unseal
    and spill what we may clean.
    When Shame and Conflict
    drop in with armfuls of beer,
    let us laugh at predictable
    outbursts, thoughts kneading
    problems into dried-out clay
    while the body screams
    its longing to smash
    through the hard crust
    formed around the heart.
    With silence filling the temple
    at the center, may our minds
    abandon certitude for joy,
    finding solace in You,
    God Who Shakes the Snow-Globe,
    Monster Beneath Each Bed,
    Goddess Who Is Left Off Every Invitation,
    Joke That Breaks the Peace,
    Blunderer Into the Wrong Conversation,
    Missent Email,
    Whisperer Of The Wrong Name at the Wrong Time,
    Most Holy Malapropism,
    Deleted Text Message,
    Forgotten Person on My Friendslist Who Posts Embarrassing Comments,
    Roaring Fart During Solemn Proceedings,
    Innocent Question That Reveals What No One Wants to Address,
    Lie Accidentally Named.
    May every sickening secret
    soak in Your antibiotic light.
    Save us not from lost integrity,
    but as we stumble, help us
    lift in pride of self-acceptance
    unembarrassed honesty,
    admitting every crack and slip.

  • Odes to Time

    To Linear Time

    Blessings on you, highway
    between birth and death
    upon which experience
    can flower and wither.
    Finite currency, ever-depleting
    account, the hoarding
    of which bankrupts,
    the wise spending
    of which enriches.
    Through you we receive
    the gifts of variety,
    multiplicity of sensation,
    feeling and thought,
    the complex textures
    of Being offered to life.

    Through you we learn
    the powers of ending,
    discernment, and priority,
    savoring what already
    is becoming lost.

    Neheh and Djet, sometimes translated as “Time” and “Eternity”

    To Cyclical Time

    Praise to you, spiral galaxy
    interlocking orbits
    recurrence of season
    and history reminding
    us nothing is complete,
    only refreshing its form.
    Through you forgotten
    lessons are relearned:
    the old births the new,
    the new restores the old.
    Depth of meaning,
    unfathomable purpose
    rotating and shifting,
    unfolding patterns
    informing the cosmos.
    Our eyes constellate
    disparate stars, touching
    every consciousness
    that perceived a shape.
    Each moment contains
    eternal expanse.

  • Advice for a New Year

    Ignore perfect answers.
    Perfect, instead, mistakes.
    Befriend and tend your shame,
    that nuzzling beaten pup
    whimpering through thin bars,
    mutt tongue licking your heart.
    Notice the traps you set
    For friends and enemies
    To prove trustworthiness
    Again. Watch as they fail,
    disappointed to your
    expectations, or spend
    your strength to help them win.
    No problem having problems.
    No worrying worry,
    no fearing future fear.
    Try hoping hopefully,
    enjoying joyfully.
    My father gave advice
    About taking advice:
    “Just say ‘Thank you,’ and do
    whatever you want to.”