Creative Writing

Mercury’s Direction

Mercury goes direct.

Which way towards where?

The frequency of the chariot of change.

Jupiter in Sagittarius.

The father of father,

he has returned for me.

I was my father’s mercury,

I was the apple of his eye.

No apples caught in his throat to choke him,

that was but Adam’s curse.

 

It’s me, Sailor Mercury.

So I sailed and found me, again, in Greese.

I am Kalliope.

Vikings and Celts,

sailors and farmers,

sea and land.

I am the sand.

Fire in heart, flame of hair,

kindled fire in the belly,

desire and motivation.

 

Together they pushed and they pulled,

and enclosed me in pressure

Treasure to be found by only the worthy ones.

From sand to stone, I became the geode.

 

Hidden in plain sight amongst rocks and stones.

Hidden as Kimberlite, mine her to break her.

Do not fear, she wants to be broken, and let free again.

 

Three of swords or sublime alchemy.

Penetration, or a subtle longer romance.

Kimberlite required the use of alchemy

to set her free, to let her be.

Let me be me.


6.12.2018 K.


29 January 2019, 8:19pm; A poem I wrote last year. Because the Prophetess reminded me I hadn’t shared my dedication to my father.

Language. Metaphor. Semiotics. Symbolism. To decode, encode and re-code the base building blocks of existence. Life is a complicated algo.rhythm of many programs and codes and feedback loops and stuff. Simultaneous simulation of simulated reality. It’s both real and not real.

It’s what you choose to do with it. And it all begins with your practice of looking.

Guess who is unemployed this year? That’s right. Me. I have no job nor prospects because of a sly hound dog. The fox and the hound cannot be friends. Because it doesn’t matter whatever happened before, the masters which you serve want my head.

I am tricky like a fox. But I am not a hunter. The bunnies and the bears and the horses and the goats… They’re my friends, my family. I love them with all of my soul, and I cannot go back and change what I have done. But I can change what I do.

I can shape shift if necessary. I am a land mammal. But I can take the form of a bird – the raven, kestrel, or phoenix are my preferred. Or by the fresh water of streams, rivers or creeks. I naiad, or nymph. A siren of the shallows and reeds.

29 replies »

  1. Interesting discourse. Psycho Babble that’s mixed with a good old fashioned dose of Olde Worlde Convict Brit Hate. Take a look at your face. If it ain’t Abbo then it’s probably Euro. More than likely Brit. Possibly Greek, (too Mediterranean ). Any how the Ontologocal Arguements offers a solution of kinds. As everything has an original cause. Flinders is the Man.
    K just to let you know I too am resting. Got fired June 2016 for being honest and stating the obvious. How weird is that? Chris T ( looking for an opportunity in decipling). He! He!

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