Saturday, January 31, 2015

Spain Rally

It may be that time is coming...

Canto 1X - Sidhu and Gilgamesh


I am the boy who is banned from the  the girl who wants to learn about Christian religious classes,
 although neither of us were actually there at the crucifixion.
 though she claimed she was,  and perhaps she was there in spirit,
 if such took place in the train square station.
 even then all the windows were open,  if transfixed by  light coming down from above.
 even then her eyes were transfixed on heaven catching what she said was a forbidden rocking chair,
 and other things more arcane which could only be described,
 by words that have no meaning in this world.

 I and the boy who is banned from the girl watching love in the squares.
 she wanted so bad to trd on that meaning,
 and gather the stars of the sky,  each one joined to the next.
 she imagined that she was sweating the individual Street vendors,
 and the voices of beggars which she heard in her imagination.
 bus crucifying the crucified who is known as Jesus,
 though that is really his name,  but a sign of the choosing of  another generation.
 she bands from saying no,  even as she says yes,  please, yes.
Shaimaa El-Sabbagh  has left at least these words,
 even as Maged Zaher  transcribed them to M Lynx Qualey.
 I wish you well,  even though I did not actually meet you in the flesh.


Gilgamesh  was Bilgamesh  if you read it correctly.
 and since it is the oldest name we know,
 because it comes from a real person,
 we should be precise,  and concise,  and absurd
 with this fact,  because it's the only one we know.

Enmebaresi  was a brother  King probably in the 26 century before Christ,
 who was another person who probably existed,
 but we are not sure.
Dingir  was placed before his name,  as if he was a God,
 though new evidence exists for a cult,  at least in his lifetime.

 he was born, he died, and in  1872 was born again,
 though this time  as Izdubar,  because of the spelling of his name,
 think on what had to happen to read Bilgamesh  in that way.
 and then you realize that your predecessors had done this.
 even an absurdity is a small aspect of this.

 man then God than man again,  all because of writing in sand.



Sidhu,  word that comes to us as Indus  river,
 by way of Sanskrit through Persian,  and that is only half
 of the story,   more than half, and less than half.

 the germ into Hindu  was then a geographic term,
 for the people who lived beyond the River.
 not for the river itself,  more's  the pity,  and then some.

 dhahma  it wants called when set against Islam
 by poets you would not have heard of,
 and even the words have been lost.

 though it   claims to the very substance o hindu
 to its last  breath and more so than that,
 I use that term lightly and freely,  because I heard once

 a long time ago and far away
 the mist the toil  and  torment of words
 that fell on Christmas day,  which only I remember.

 which was hard the great world with rhythm
 which all systems of Hindu philosophy
 accept  as being universally true in its  hetrogeny.



Bled body of stones, littered in cones and shards on a blasted heath,
 one made of pines were that oncew were fur of the earth, 
but burned bare of all their needles. 
A man, his shoulders as far across as many horses are broad, 
sat on his haunches and rubbed the soil together in his hands. 
He looked up at his taller, thinner, companion, 
one of drawn face and black locks above paler skin.
I have seen this before.
A blast like this, 
I would have thought you would have long ago regaled me with the tales 
The taller man looked into the distance, 
seeming to survey the row of low, 
worn, mountains that formed a bowl around the valley they were in. 
He stared down towards a lake, filled with black water,
 and laced with bare rocks that formed small islands.
Ducale, this
he held up round, almost pebble shaped, bits of soil 
is what happens to dirt in the jungles when it is exposed to the sun.
This drew a glance down from the tall, pale, figure. 
It means there was a great piercing heat. But here, not so great as a volcano.
If it is the heat of a volcano, where is the volcano? I see no sign of it.
It was something else.


Fell, Fair, or Folk? Fell fire would have the black glass.
Fairie? No cold fire touched this, because there are no pits in the rocks.
Your knowledge is exquisite, Subermanian. 
That leaves some natural beast, 
I know of none but Man that has this, and then only with High Magic.
The heavier man stood up, 
his red teak colored features were broad 
and round, but his expression pinched them to a scowl.
Not a beast of any kind. As for magicks, I would defer to a wiser one.


You know I have none of the Science, 
and only some of the craft. 
This is beyond anything I have been taught.
They saddled me with a city child to go out into the wilderness.
The court must always have someone to distrust
 on such errands, and I am the one who was,
by mutual agreement, most useless.
No men needing my arms, no lady wanting them either.”
His heavier companion began scanning as well.
This is devastation out of story.
They both looked, and the sheer scop
 of what happened began to sink into their minds.
They stood on the high crest of a ridge, and looked down
upon a valley that, at its center, had a placid, but dark,
body of water, into whose edges seeped slow broad streams.
Spread across the expanse were ruined conifers –
spruce, pine, hemlock –
all of which had been denuded of bark and folage,
 but almost all were still standing.
With all of the ash, silt, and soil,
what was missing were any signs of corpses:
no bones, bodies, fur, feathers of any living thing.


The heavy set man fingered one of the many necklaces he work,
 each made of bronze, iron, or some other common metal,
showing the hammering into shape,
none were cast, all were wrought.
Some were of grotesque human figures,
others of animals,
but of a highly abstract nature, with angles and corners,
 lacking curves except for the heads, and some were entirely geometric.
No individual amulet was all that large,
most were only somewhat larger than charms, but there were more than a dozen. Thongs of leather tied them, and, in places, wrapped them,
so that they would not rattle.

In the Third Chronicle, from the time of Priathanian's stewardship
of the Mountain Temple, they quote the steles on which were carved the some accounts
The Tiger King, that are not set into his hymns,
but were accounted as being of substance.