"We Move Like the Ocean"
By Tristan Arts (AKA Reverend Beautiful Pyre AKA Pope Fay)
Copyright 2002
Burning is the flame of white-light religion's passion,
Blow it out, and all that remains are the ashes of hypocrisy.
Dancing in the air are the sparks of proselization,
If they touch down on ready fuel, the chaos of fanaticism bursts forth,
consuming all in its path.
Where once there was fertile life, naught but death lies in unbalanced religion's wake.
The fire, though, can be fought---held at bay by the waters of Balanced Spirituality;
Balanced Spirituality creates many a lush oasis that cannot be touched by the flames.
We move like the ocean, united in our differences;
The tsunami of our power will wash away the flames, and the forest fire of the
white-light religions will be no more.
By Our Will shall the sickness be cleansed,
And all shall be saved by the glory in what they missed,
That thing they overlooked when consumed by religion...
...we call it Life.
"The Way of the Challenge"
By: Reverend Beautiful Pyre
(AKA Tristan Arts)
We were as children… even though adults,
Never had we known… anything else;
We had never been Challenged… to Self betterment,
We knew not where Shao-Kehn's blessed path went.
We were greener… than the greenest leaf,
We had always held our Knife… in its' sheath;
We had never walked the way of the Challenge before,
Shao'Kehn gave us wisdom… and so much more!
The Flames of the Challenge keep burning our minds!
We left our old… Selves behind!
From the ashes of the pyre of my Self of old
Arose a new me… stronger and bold!
There stood Shao'Kehn… guarding the Way,
Her burning eyes… to scare us away;
Yet we'd been told… of what lay ahead,
We swore we'd meet the Challenge… with soul and head.
Shao'Kehn smiled… and went within,
From inside… came a terrible din;
We went inside… down the Path,
To face The Storm and its' Aftermath.
The Flames of the Challenge keep burning our minds!
We left our old… Selves behind!
From the ashes of the pyre of my Self of old
Arose a new me… stronger and bold!
We knew not Her tough love… so cruel and kind,
Throughout the pain… we wept and pined;
A thousand times we cursed… Her name,
Scared near to death of The Challenger's game.
Within the Chamber… grabbed by the claws,
Ripped to pieces… by massive jaws;
Eaten alive, we screamed in pain!
Soon that part over, 'twas all just a game.
We went through fire… we went through ice,
Both were painful… neither felt nice;
Through the pain of Challenge we were strong,
Kept pushing ourselves to move along!
Finally we made it… to the final goal,
First we had to jump… over a large hole;
It would mean our death if we had failed,
To our death… we would have sailed.
Yet we made it… across the abyss,
We made it, we made it, we didn't miss!
We got to the goal of betterment of Self,
Now we don't need the comfort of anyone else!
Walking yourself
By I'la O
copyright 2003
St. Bridget walks down the street
looking at it all through me
"Where are the trees?"
I turn that corner
and Seattle opens up its lights
my eyes, jaw and heart follow
hit onto my fav dance station, where the only commercial is love
smell the pizza or the fries, but I'm gonna take a new sidewalk
so these pinked white blossoms are those cherry blossoms they talk about in all those stories
I'll let those petals guide my path
St. Bridget nods
lovin how two blocks over puts me in another world
not knowing where you are is one way to be where you are
business lights, obscured street signs, bags of dinner using people to get home
I round corners with my rounds
vegan cookies line the basket
lines bask on the sidewalk
showing off what people'll do for art
Bridget and I go inside
darkness will transcribe visions
Bridget and I recognize it
Scotland, Kansas, and Seattle are the same
we see ourself
put your fingers in the dirt
place your hand in the Earth's flesh
touch yourself; touch yourself again
know yourself, again.
"La Lór Seh La Alóra"
"The Juice of the Alóra"
by = Tristan Arts
copyright 2000
Gweb'ahd'jahg la lór seh la Alóra, foht zizik ah'lah'kohr;
(Drink the juice of the Alóra, for it is sweet;)
Yai la piik-gwehbahr |rr|oo toisahl kriiah somaik;
(Let the rain roll over your body;)
Ahd'jahg la ohn'tin'kyn seh la ah'lah'jiik, foht zizik tah'jah;
(Eat the pulp of the fruit, for it is good;)
Mostaiso la gwebahr kindais kriiah mozatain;
(Feel the water on your skin;)
Lookah la lór ziz sohlohrt ehm grehn;
(Smell the juice it give(s) to us;)
Niiket yai la aipahlih tehlshii koh shoikoik;
(Do not let the world cause you pain;)
Mwai'ahrik kohrain la aipahlih ulgork;
(Taste all the world has;)
Nii'ii'bii fiehlrahk la pahtohlgj seh la aipahlih...
(Never forget the wonder of the world;)
...veh rejahray la lór seh la Alóra.
...and enjoy the juice of the Alóra.
A Blood Treaty
By Richard S. Bravo IV
copyright 2003
I watch over you. My knowledge soars above your stupidity. And I
laugh and
laugh
Slowly I enter the gate. The place is somber, wet, beautiful.
Across, the
farthest, I can see, a series of trees, dry all of them. The sadness
I
experience is awesome. It is death under a better understanding.
"The Wyld Womun"
By Tristan Arts (Pope Fay)
Copyright 2002
I stand before the altar, ready to dance,
Ready to summon The Wyld Womun;
Turn on the music, move to the beat,
Hold onto my knife, an athame of sorts;
My movements, breathing, and life are my prayer,
The raw act of living without thinking is the summons;
Breathing so hard that my mind can't think,
She is summoned:
She says nothing, but sings a song,
A dance that's all words and none,
Dancing forever without an end,
Joyous is The Wyld Womun,
Joyous is Shoikin.
Dancing forever without end,
She is The Vital Spark of Life,
Lending energy to all of Life,
One can never hope to out-dance Her.
Her wild black hair all a mess,
Striped and painted, Her only clothes are
Leather bands around Her wrists and ankles,
She dances around a fire, but it is dwarfed
By Her radience and energy.
Her eyes burn as the fires of the stars,
But kindly and lovingly,
Every graceful, fluid movement
Births a million new lives,
Kills a million more,
The pyre of death is the dinnerplate of life,
And the fires of Life burn higher and higher.
Oh, I dance! Sweat pours by the liter,
Breathing becomes faster and harder,
Heart pounding in my chest,
Wyld Womun dances forever, but I must rest,
I fall to the ground to recover,
The Wyld Womun still dances.
"Untitled"
by I'la O.
place of white shadows
darkness exists as light
feel
open unto us
in our place
dreams equalize reality
reality appears on our minds
stars dance
we sleep with moons
allow us in
how can we ever leave?
we don*t hide in our place
our place
displays itself within us
7-19-1988
I*la O.
