The blue green metalled
carapace
shot brilliant shafts of
light ,
blinding him , back to
Akasha ,
as Scarab meandered
knowingly before him .
☆
His left arm was at rest
on the cool slab of marble
while seated , as the other
limb
moved involuntarily
from a hidden source .
☆
Looking up as autonomous
fingers scribed on ,
watching as hundreds ,
thousands of
years flow into a vibration
of centuries ,
caressed by the Divine and
the Holy Spirit .
☆
Then into arms of the
Angel of Dreams ,
to ride in his chariot of
forgetfulness .
As above and then so below
and the spirit of Love will
surely rest on them all .

The Sphinx
Methinx
Takes flight
At night.

Her memory is like the beauty of the silted Nile,
Of sacred blue lilies and heron
And skimming eyes of the crocodile.

The wind on the flow
to all directions south and north
paints on the lotus blooms on the sea
down the sky in lapis lazuli blue.
My daughter Zubeda Maya
asks me on the go
did you capture this fabulous mo?

Oh, where shall I start to roll
the Red Sea in Hurghada Egypt
puts on thousand and one show!

If I could love, I would take the best of marble and dove,
And craft her eyes like inlaid tombs in stone skyward flight.
Just so, the Egyptian khamsin wind, by way of Rhodes,
Alights with evenness on the trullo stone of Alberobello.
Just so, the weighing of the heart lies between marble and dove.

~
Memphis
and the King,
plagued up
to his neck
in denial,

turning remote
controls
into staffs,
staffs into snakes,
jackals,
and hounds,

shaking the sistrum,
singing gospels
full of mystery
to a god,
a girl,
and state of mind
he will never solve,

asking skies
of transulent
orange,
from the far corners
of his world,
for pharmacopia,

then granting
Moses
his freedom
in exchange
for a box
of hot glazed
doughnuts,

and always
his little
wild petunia,
painted face
and percolating
body,
skin smooth
as the eastern Delta,

her weighted down heart,
his tyranny,

his self-destructive tongue,
her asp
~

~
When Pharaoh
checked out at the Red Sea,
odd circumstance made a grab for his vacant scepter,

and kingdom collided
with plague to paint a mural
on the palace wall (or maybe, it was the hotel lobby),

of a dreamer's garden,
his wife in veils, her dance a cordial
invitation to a great many unmentionable things,

the feral sky had blown
itself out, and in muted candle
nightshade, the mistress of war disembarked,

and so somewhere
in those upper rooms, ruler
and consort, hearing the sound of running water,

mystified their carnal
senses by infusing themselves
with a little vigorous morphine of the soul
~

It is more than breathing forbearance, but
being forbearance itself. Like the back of my head is
pushed to the wall and I am allowing the Spirit
to push me further away from the middle.

The pyramid is the greatest source of God's Might
and is the most hidden retreat of Light: in the realm
of shapes and symbols.
The body takes on the quality of a pyramid.

There are man-made, divinely inspired, objects.
These are all micro aspects of the pyramid.
The city within the pyramid has many aspects hidden
behind "doors".
The letters and words written on the pyramid's parts allow
for the splendor of mankind.
All lights in this city get their power from the Divine.

The pyramid is the owner of Silence.
The sides of the pyramid are upheld by the
straight back of silence. Its apex is held by
the inner observer.