Tag Archives: goddess

save us from error

Posted on by
1

She is beautiful to the seeker of truth

Terrible to those who injure

Devotees of truth

~

HUMBLE HYMN O’ DURGA DIVINE

~

I bow to thee

& why not?

Thee, who art good & in whom one takes refuge

~

Ye are the nectar of immortality

Oh eternal

& imperishable One

~

Ye are

The embodiment of the

Om sound

~

Ye are verily that which cannot be

Uttered

Specifically

~

Ye are the

Supreme empress

Of all devas

~

By you this universe is born

By you this universe is created

By you it is protected

~

Oh ye who are the template of the whole world

Ye are the creative force

Ye are the protective power

~

And at the time of the dissolution

Of the world

Ye are the destructive power

~

Ye are the supreme knowledge

The great intellect

& contemplation

~

Also ye are the great delusion

The great goddess

The great daemonette

~

Ye are the primordial

Cause

Of everything

~

Ye are the dark might & dark night

Of periodic & final dissolution &

The terrible night of delusion

~

Ye are the goddess, the ruler of

Modesty

Bashfulness

~

Contentment

Tranquility

Forbearance

~

Armed with sword, spear, club

discus, conch, bow & arrows, Slings & mace

You are terrible

~

And at the same time pleasing

Ye are more pleasing than all pleasing things

And exceedingly beautiful

~

Ye are indeed

La Supreme  Durga

Beyond high & low

~

And whatever or wherever a thing exists

Real or unreal

Whatever power there is in it, is possessed by You

~

Oh you who are the soul of everything

How can I

Extol you more than this

?

~

Oh queen of all

I bow to thee again

& again

~

 Oh Durga indomitable

Devi devine

Please save us from error

~

Amen & Hallelujah

~

~

ghost town editor / elvis bojangles

the lost goddess pyramid

Posted on by
1

~

People people people hiding in metal cacoons

rolling rolling rolling all around most afternoons

& they’re lying down inside refrigerated tombs

dozing infront of TVs that turn them into goons.

~

I met an Egyptian goddess in the tumbleweeds

she pushed me down, made me her wanton slave

the pretty ancient disappeared in a puff of dust

I sit in front of a pyramid now a wanting to misbehave.

~

All the people sneek around behind tinted windows

I stick a thumb out, they lock their fly-by doors

I walk ’til I’m dead as they pay oodles for a private ride

as they build acres of parking lot & bigger dumber stores.

~

So now I sit in the sand infront of The Lost Goddess Pyramid

awaiting a swirl of dust to do what the last one did

numerous trains roll by, a chunk of stone falls off my nose

buried beneath a footprint & a trumbone blows…

~

(Copyright Clyde Collins 2011)

~

~

Spirit Wind

Posted on by
Reply

~

I am your guide, gateway to the dimensions.

I will remain in the shadows,

as you move through the liquid waters

of your essence.

The light is where I am.

There is no time where I wait,

so waiting is nothing.

~

~

The whispers you hear in the silence are mine.

I’ve been trying to catch your attention,

direct your energy back to the original focus,

the light that is free of pain and hurt.

~

~

Why do you not listen?

You can find freedom here.

You can reclaim your soul,

know that it is limitless.

Sometimes I feel your yearning to return

and sometimes you can almost reach me.

~

~

I wonder why you take so long

to see your true nature.

Listen for my echoes in the wind.

I will help direct your sail.

~

~

photos

Vengeance Of She (1968)

starring Olinka Bérová

~

poem by

Robin Stiles

from her book

Skipping Stones Through The Cosmos

~

vocal entreaty courtesy of Mei-lan Maurits

~

post editor

Rawclyde

!

I awake!

Posted on by
1

~~~

~~~

In the old hotel

Diana & I retire to

a busted-up suite upstairs

& haunt it

~

While we levitate in the

center of the dusty time-deranged room

indulgently locked in our favorite position & getting along

I fall into a deep deep sleep

~

When I awake I discover

myself prone on the cracked tiles of

the ancient Egyptian temple that’s half buried

in the sand dunes west of Yuma

~

Ishtar, the lost Assyrian goddess of love & war

sits up, peers down

at me between her miraculous legs &

says

~

“It’s time for you to return to

the Christian mission, Rawclyde

Your 10 days sleeping outside

are over”

~

She then taps

the back of my head with

her bare heel

which knocks me out

~

I awake again

having dreamed a dream

that was embraced

in a dream

~

Now I discover myself alone

in a sleeping bag

on a big pile of dirt & chunks of concrete

in the gravel pit next door to Crossroads Mission

~

Partnering with nothing

more

or less

than reality

~

The sun is about to rise

under a pink bed-spread

stretched across the jagged little mountain range

out yonder

~

A very long train

thump-thumps by &

somebody fires-up a tractor in

the gravel pit

~

I, camouflaged

in the early morning shadows on

my cold rocky knoll, instantly

roll-up my bedroll

~

As I trudge away from the peak

of my dreams

I realize that the invisible cosmic forces of the universe

are all around & inside of me

~

And that they can be evoked

for the common good

or remain hidden forever in a ghost town

   a ghost town called Love…

~

(Copyright Clyde Collins 2012)

~~~

Ishtar

~~~

table talk

Posted on by
5

by rawclyde!

~

Her foot eventually signals its presence on

the edge of my chair

by means of one whispering tap upon

my ghostly rubies.

~

“I still believe in transient relationships,”

says the newly-arrived shade

of Diana.

“In fact, before he hung me by the neck

until dead from that wearisome tree, the

sheriff & I…”

~

Diana stops talking with

her mouth.

She now talks with

her foot.  Her toes, especially the big one, tell

the torrid tale.

Her heel grinds home the punch line.

~

“The sheriff & you ~ what?”

~

Now her eyes quietly repeat

the confession of lewd debauchery

page after page after page

in about 7 zooming seconds.

~

She smiles.

~

Horrified I howl,

“No, not the sheriff!”

My fist slams down on the table, which

disintegrates into a pile of dust, there in

the broken-down hotel cafe.

~

Diana is standing now, chair discarded.

She steps forward.

Little puffs of dust arise.

“Poor boy.  You’re upset over nothing.”

~

She’s still smiling.  She can’t help it.

~

“Nothing?” I howl ~ still sitting.

~

“Nothing,” she sighs.

She steps closer closer ~ looms

over me like

The Statue of Liberty

come alive & opening her court-room robe.

~

My eyes go cross-eye-ed

and my soul becomes unglued

by the close proximity of the

living tabernacle of the sacred light!

~

(Copyright Clyde Collins 2012)

~