The Feathered Serpent

Snakey snakey be true BEST

Feathered Serpent

 

I use to be attached to myself like everyone else

That’s the way of this worlds masked delusions

Insatiable hunger of skeletons living above our body

Far from the green bones of the mother

 

I am beholden to the spirits of the primordial deep

A bear of hidden soul mending urges

A stag reflecting on the beauty of long sounding desire

Coyotes quivering energy on the living room floor

Often I am the human story of combustion

Exhaust fumes of primal murmurings

Until we begin tracking the masked dawn

Learning how to burn and not be consumed

Be consumed but not burn

 

My incantations are somewhere in a book now

Or in a swaying pine

They sing to themselves when one listens

Riding the currents of the earth needs

The underworld time deposits and erratic platelets

I am a feathered serpent that hears the still waters

Of your glass continent shifting

Ink of your soul leaking out

Along a thin line of thought

Forest paper that has disappeared

Whittled down to threadbare reflection

Walking through the mirror of the thousand selves

The conditioned gravity of infinite thoughts

Wield and yield their shadows and potent dragons

From the brine of the wound

To the coast of meditation

 

Tributaries of amnesia always hitting the bluff

Forced to tumble around

Become more distant

Spreading seafloor

Until nothing

A snow shelled tree

An impassable swamp

To the other side of us

That knows the sacred contract

Of bridging realities

 

You cannot see the beginning or end of it all

It could be a period at the end of a sentence

Ask how will you close the book

Without giving over to the ghost

Of vanishing perception

Part of us slowly disintegrates

Every time we elude our mirror

The seismic stanza breaks

Worn to the spine of artifice

 

The wind breathes and the wind speaks to itself

The listening weathered leaf propels the period

Of the minute insect across this telluric poem

The story keeps moving without success

Without complaint without being seen

The deity’s breath

In the cave of your being

Dripping its primordial sap

Into the vein of the last season

 

I built a hut for the deep sanctum of silence

Shared nest building heals the divide between us

I live inside the eyes of a serpent winding

Along the earth’s long steady road

Teeming spirits in unfiltered senses

Animal tracks tracking the mountain dolmens voice

Leading to places we all should know

As bat I deliver flowers to a dead friend

Get up the hill I shout into the creaking dark pines

Their charcoal blues of perforated dreams

Flit from branch to branch tiers

Spirit clouds shape the moon shadows

I walk through their feeling dimensions

Ant carries it all on its back

I step reverent carefully

Over frost and broken sticks

Shedding my skin in a wave just right until death

 

Everywhere can feel like home

In the worlds hypnotic mist pools

Until divergent tropes move into memory

Tapping  nuances of the holy

The mind can get to talking all syllables at once

Wild courts of the underground  attend and heed

Voices from the crystal air keep gathering

 

My small hand by Quetzalcoatl’s vast eyes

Her feathers would like to be stroked

By my needs of beauty bonding

The way I feed my feathered serpent

Helps me beyond my personal design

Keeps me out of the zoo of individuals

With my own wings growing I can see

The avian eyes of rose colored moons

Moving through the myriad worlds

Each blink is a new life we’ve been waiting for

 

We use to have bird hands like yours

A dorsal surface for the most sensitive currents

We use to have subterranean tails for the vibrating terrain

Fins on our voices to navigate the divine terrestrial lair

Maybe we still have the craft

To change the worlds darkening tide

From the inside out

Exhales of everything I have done

With so little left over

And everything just begun

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Coyote Shaman Scouts Through The Sepulchers

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Coyote Shaman Scouts Through The Sepulchers

 

I search the coyote dens for you

Moving through mud and dead reeds

I bring my drum skin and bone shards

My little fire that whispers in red smoke

I shake my rattle seeds into your blood

Growl to heighten your senses

Scratch the granite floor stirring the serpents

The village dogs bark bark bark bark bark

My drum beats enter your earliest clay skin walls

Wild shaman pony runs out of the fissure

Bucking perceptions your delicate life

In thinning cumulus rattling leaves stir of ash

Lawless law galloping on the bridge of emptiness

Through the  veiling grey slate of whale rain

To join you between human and spirit form

Your ancestors riding my shoulders

From tributaries of the original dream

 

Each pass through the underworld

I come out with new stories

They swell and spread like bear dreams in hibernation

Antlers growing in constellations

Somehow they manage to keep me alive

Keep me human an ancestor repeating

Those before me and those after me

I am their thoughts arriving now

They tell me as I tell myself

Of our eviscerated myths

Bound to a dark shelf

Unreadable

We are like rivers always moving to the sea

But already there

These instances

Are like what’s between

Each letter in a word

Alone more alone than before

Alone with aloneness

I am inside behind the wall

I am inside it

I couldn’t tell you what it is

Moving my hand along

Moving the rain down

The wind into itself

On its way to the far sea

Transmigration of the primal eloquent moon

Still adheres to ancient foundations

Still who really cares about the oval passage

Of our own home spinning

Light reflecting to know ourselves

From the torpor of pillaged dreams

Our pilot house of shipwrecks

Steered by factory mannequins of power

Puppet governing churning out more demi-gods

For the slave race anesthetized in rote abstractions

We have no idea who each other are now

Ravenous need for fantastical identity

To satiate the grandiose ego

 

Still there’s opportunity for upheavals chaos

To find its natural order

Coyote displaces the pendulum of my mind

Replaces it with a restless three am

Makes the vacuum cleaner break

On the hair of the dog

I savior the loneliness of moonless nights

Deepening my nocturnal thoughts

 

May the medicine of this quickened story

Reunite the lucid way

For those who forgot who they are

And where they come from

I raise my hand up by my star crown

Where the many worlds pass through

And speak to the earth and beyond

 

Gather your many selves

In the ceaseless becoming

When the old self dies inside you

A new places chooses the increased you

The many places of the same name

Center that changes and changes again

Compass directions silent in the wish shadows

Until we rattle awake again

Lift the dead you to the drum rise

Dissipate gather in storm

Feel the yearning sloughing off

On your way back to the original you

Beginnings before beginnings

Awake from your bog cotton sleep

Return among your own kind

With the earth seed tremble in your heart

Inside the hull is darkness and growth

Connective tissue to indigenous roots

Slow work of embodying the soul

While reaching for the sun

 

I whisper to those who know

But with most I retreat deep in my cave

Drum to their ancestors for quickening

With my winding chant of a healing song

 

Seed to dust to seed

The eyes are seeds of insight

The ears are seeds of wisdom

Your touch fills the world with seeds

It’s with labor that you become the seed

The seed dreams of you

Becoming the seed grower

We sow all we do not know

Into the hollow skull container

Food for the deities

 

I brush my incisors in mica mirrors

While praying through my fangs

For the beautiful dawn

We coyotes always size you up

You have to earn respect naturally

From the natural world

Your circumference has lost its connection to center

Living between the two is the gravity of the soul

Honor this journey your earth council bestows

And we will meet each other for the first time

Free of disguise with the wisdom of your roots and seed