Understanding the Dragon (story)

All these signs
Culminate.

The Wizard and Warrior,
King and Queen,
And the Lover

Return once audience is requested.

With them they bring fire and wrath, roasting Subject on its own grill. Neglect was the order of the day, and for that: “You must pay with answers and deeds”.

After many days of deliberating, eventually the fire dims, the ashes kindle, and conversation begins.

Slowly but surely, the order of the day continues for ‘under-standing’ to include understanding.

Through trials and tribulations, walls, and reclamation, friendship is born. Over time a mutual respect grows into the pillar that holds this world up on which we stand today.

With this structure born, the 4 corners of the world are held strong; reinforced with the iron of compassion and the steel of humility.

Each of the 4 corners are guarded by the Stewards of Power, the faces of energy. Here the Stewards in all their knowledge and wisdom gift and direct the energies of the kingdom in order to maintain balance and prosperity for those who would indulge in the space and the freedom of the kingdom of light.

However one day as with any empire, the pillar crumbles; trust fades.
It is here on this day that the Dragon, from deep within its cave, emerges in companionship with the Stewards of the 4 corners of light: the Wizard, The Warrior, King, and Queen, and the Lover, brewing and casting spells of madness.

Return with fire, the dragon lends them it’s form in exchange for the power that within. In the darkness together they now brew deeds of evil that dim the light of this world, bringing forth those long nights of restless slumber with little respite.

Few call for audience with these demons, in fear of the fire which these Stewards of Power wield and lash and breathe with all the splendour of creature-hood

Continuing in darkness and cold it would seem. Many say the fire is too hot, too bright, for any one person to bare alone…

These are those who run. Only they should ask… where is the Dragon now?


-Ben

If you liked this post, here’s another you might like.

Tunnel of Fate

Biting the sides of gums until they bleed,
Barely breathing.
My knees are tapping like a Royal rodent’s limp.

Stiff backed rage tries to leave
My lips,
Tether them together
And simply simply stare red-eyed

Into the tunnel of fate

To seethe production, redemption from regular habit;
Parallel disassociation that blends
Like a thick painful smoke
That kin breathe together.

My legs would take me away for the horizon,
In green where winds blow smooth and wild,
Carrying blessings through blossomed doors from open hearts.

The world would seem a little less Grey that day…
A stream of water to be,
No more volcanoes.

Tapping Feet

Feet Tapping
In ten thousand different directions
Treble, Bass, and in-between,
Through puddles, grass, and dry concrete,
Rushed or Slowed,
Some walk on their tippie-toes
Through day and night,
Through Sun and Moon,
And Smiles and Fright.

Some throw change at him,
Not many polite,
Again and again
He chants to the tapping feet,
The money song
Of god and bless
And please and thanks.

Through time,
Through hail and storm,
With coats that tore,
Through icy thaw,
The wind is the only change.

The Tapping Feet
Become bored of grey faces.
The song becomes the city
Like the birds and the trees
And the change and the please.

And the bee’s knee’s
The latest trend
Will it ever end?
He see’s the lesser angels
Of true nature.

Like a lame eagle watching
Prey make it’s own way
‘Till it’s end.


-Ben

If you liked this poem, check this out also. 

Dad

All of the thousands of bristles travelling across the tips of my fingers,
My dad,
Superman,
Protected me
And let me touch his chin to comfort my autistic hands,
To calm my waves of cerebral feeling.
My ocean of vitality
And manic energy
Tamed by touch
And love
And strength
I brushed my hands along the fabric,
The linen and cloth button tops
And the smell of deodorant in the morning
That smelt like my dad and no other.

Deep bass
That used to lift me out of slumber,
Those grey streaks of wisdom
That knew the right thing to do
Turned to white.

In the night I remember
My own lonely fright

I followed a man
Who showed me what’s right

Now I have my own chin of bristles,
My own calloused hands,
And I see how we have always waded through the darkness.

Hand in hand in hand


-Ben

If you liked this post, then check this out. Much love.

Disinfected People

Wrote this a while ago in a more contemplative phase of my life. Thought I would share it with you today:


Being is old
And we’re here for the new.
Putting up fences,
Keeping eyes away
From our grace

Hidden in Papers,
Food, and Electric buzzes;
The two of us, walled into
Private loneliness.

So many hearts
Hidden in warm cages,
Limp bodies
In chairs,
Nerves moving toward the edge,
But never quite falling

Concrete, Mud
Buildings, Trees
Shoes on soft grass,
I can only hear the difference.

We’re the disinfected people
Out of ease
In our ease,

Sometimes the sun shines,
The warmth grows inwards
Until we can hear the birds singing
Inside us

‘Till the flittering screens come,
And we think
Those thoughts so many times repeated,
Unaware of our death
Like ghosts
Of past and future
With the fear of never having lived

The one who walks slowly by the wayside
Found salvation in touch of the bark,
The sight of the colours became beautiful,
Time was fluid and vivid.
Slowly he watched,
It looked like water.