Saga of Sara and Emma Jane

In courtroom large, the high charge stuck:
Sara’s man could not buck the stolen horse,
So chained and off to prison, the course
Of her life changed, radically rearranged;
Could she manage alone, fields newly sown?

Meanwhile, Emma Jane wept where cold body slept
In silent keep of death, and no one else would weep;
So what else could she do but sell out and bail out?
One man was tied as the other died, and both cried,
But Sara kept her claim and so Emma Jane came.

And the two bright, strong women would fight
To keep their only plot of land — not a lot —
Sara and Emma Jane plowed and prayed for rain
Again and again to adorn their field with corn;
Work, no play — the pay was strong bond of love.

Out in the wild, wild West they would survive,
Hope kept alive by burning backs, aching arms,
And no time for charm till dinner bell chime;
Sara and Emma Jane would climb up into bed
And lay their heads down with very little said.

Ah, they had their land and crops, home and slop
For hogs and wood to chop in a virtual sweatshop
With no whistle-stop — work begun had to be done
Under the sun — and they rarely made it into town;
But these two had their space on their own place.

Sara and Emma Jane, given to one another, could
Never be won by man passing by, try as he might;
Light of love bound to survival in ever revival
Of one spirit in two bodies married these two
In true love forged above and sealed on earth.

Sara and Emma Jane stood their ground, so profound,
Against so many hounds of hell striking warning bell;
They would not sell, no, not Sara’s land to band
Of thieving men bent on sin to win what belonged
To two women so strong, who’d chosen the long road.

And Beauty stood tall, formidable, nothing biddable
As Sara and Emma Jane tamed the wild, wild West. . .

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Dominatrix: Humiliation & Degradation

Warning: If Offended by Erotica, Do Not Read

 

You tried when you tied my hands behind your back,
And made me kneel to you to steal all my innocence;
No defense against your naked essence; my weakness
Shamefully shown; you laughed and it was blown away
That day in your dank keep, when my milk seeped out
All for your good pleasure, from your chained treasure;
Measured me for sake of humiliation in degradation,
And there was no love at all as you stood tall above,
And scorned me and my then-wilted tree for all to see;
How could I hold on with you so strong and ever-bold;
You told a story of conquest as I curled in your nest
Like a little bird, and no one heard my cry . . .
Except you, my power-mistress, writer of my distress.

Note: After visiting the sadomasochist site of one fellow-blogger,  I left wondering if I could pen poetic-erotic centered upon the dominatrix.  How well I’ve executed this, I suppose, only time and my reader-followers can tell!

Caillína: Süleyman of the Fáelána Clan

Caillína sat erect and strong upon judgement seat to right the wrong of two women amid throng of peoples waiting to be heard, to receive word of adjudication from their príomh-aoire, their chief-shepherdess, to relieve their distress. Thankfully not all fell upon Caillína, as Fáelána and Suíbhnæ, both just and still quite robust, were very astute and muted many disputes before they could pollute the Clan of Fáelána (so called in her honor as the mháthair-fireanna — mother-father — of the people.)

“The weaned child rightly belongs to me, for see: Here is my husband,” she pointed to a clean man standing tall to be seen by all. “He is father of this babe; why prolong, then, what is wrong? I beg of you, Aoire Caillína, restore this daughter to father, and to this woman who would be her mother!”

“No!” shrieked the other woman, bleek and weak, shaking at having to speak before Caillína and throng of kindred clansmen. “She has been at my breast since birth and is little more than an adorable little wren even now… No, my most honorable aoire; I am the hen, so then, do not send away my precious chick!” Her speech was thick with passion, while the other woman only kicked at a pebble, huffed and rolled her eyes … which Caillína most certainly spied.

The real mother, with such moving appeal, was meek and her situation obviously bleak. She was homely, yet lovely as well, and now she could only seek justice and mercy from Caillína. “Mother of such tame child, what is your name?” Trembling and struggling, she answered, “Gácuidiú, my Aoire Caillína.”

“And what is your claim to fame?” Caillína insultingly asked through bared teeth as she glared at the other woman. “What is your name?”

“Olcana, most just Caillína,” she slightly bowed, making pretense of reverence. “And beware, Gácuidiú cannot properly care for such mild child, but is only the devil’s snare for its very life. Why did the father bother with her as long as he did? I do not know; perhaps for show of mercy. Ah! Gácuidiú does not deserve to be preserved any longer! She has no verve; her face shows her disgrace, and she has no place to call her own. Gácuidiú wastes the space of distant kin with kind hearts, but for their part she is an extra expense and an offense to their good name!”

Anger stirred in Caillína and burned in her soul like red-hot bowl of fiery coal. “No charge has been brought against this mother! Justice is not being sought for crime committed!” Olcana looked stunned. “And do you dare to stare at me as I speak? Lower your eyes or I’ll pry them from their sockets!” Olcana did as she was told, barely able to hold herself up now, and certainly no longer bold! “Gácuidiú may have been cut off by her husband — wretched man — and he may be accustomed to receiving what he wants, even believing he deserves so to be served; however, Gácuidiú has not been severed from the Chlann-mór, and we do not desert our own, no matter how sore the situation! From all I’ve heard, castration seems an appropriate punishment for all the frustration you’ve caused this poor woman in your senseless litigation! Ah! I’d force you to make way for the rest of your days with this unmanned man, and what measure of pleasure would you then enjoy?”

Caillína look round the room at fear-bound clansmen; not even soft sound could be heard. “I think you are so full of venom and hate that you’d rather me use the lever of justice to sever the babe in half, thus taking something with you, though dead, and all to leave nothing to Gácuidiú…”

“No!” Gácuidiú screamed and seemed about to faint, and Caillína looked at her without restraint of love and compassion in graceful fashion, and was suddenly filled with both admiration and titillation quickly rising to heat of exhilaration. Gácuidiú was not so weak and mild where her child was concerned, as Caillína could see she would fight with all her might, though oh-so slight, for the little life she held in her arms to protect from all harm. And Gácuidiú was, indeed, fair and lovely, even comely despite ashen, tear-streaked face that might otherwise be quite a bright delight.

“Have no fear, my dear,” Caillína gently intoned, intently looking into her eyes. “Your husband chose to live his life with another wife, and now I believe his life will be rife with pain, not gain.” Most assuredly the man looked worriedly around the room for some bloom of kind pity to lift his gloom. Olcana merely fumed at her doom, knowing no life would ever issue from her own womb. “But you, angelic girl and mother so true, will again have a home of your own, and we’ll not postpone. You and your dear child will come to live with us here, and so near to our hearts you will be part of Aontas den Anam — unity of our souls in one family — and Fáelána and Suíbhnæ will love you and your child as their own offspring, and weave and sing you both into another, completely other, better life you have never known.” Caillína smiled full-blown. “Only wait; you’ll be shown, and so far as Dyēus gives us strength and Sélená her blessings, you’ll never groan again.”

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Aontas den Anam — Union of Souls

Chlann–mór — Large Family (or Clan)

Dyēus — Deus; God

Fáelána and Suíbhnæ  — Mother-Father (Mháthair-Fireanna) and Mother of Caillína

Olcana — Alt. Sp. in Nom. Form Meaning “Wicked”

Príomh-aoire — Lit. Main Shepherd

Sélená — Goddess of Light, Moon; One of the Tri-Mater

Lessons Along the Nile: Chosen Fear-Frozen

“Ma’at herself came to Djer, not to shame, but with pure aim to reach his heart and teach his mind, and in this the fierce goddess of truth was kind,” Maftet explained as I remained in her arms in the cool, refreshing waters of the jewel of Egypt. “Ma’at came to explain wiser farming and fielding, yielding to mercy in not harming Gaia. She tried to show him how his people cried for honesty and justice, modesty in governance to unharness his subjects from the crushing weight of too great a load of obligation to his crown that would eventually drown his realm.”

Arms charmed over her shoulders, latched at her upper back, I was attached to Maftet — ever-hovering lover — and would not let go even if heaven should beckon me so. “If I reckon rightly, then, Djer did not listen to the wisdom of Ma’at, and must have shot down every lesson offered, though by them he would have profited… But surely Ma’at said more, for she always has in store great treasures of the pleasures of pure knowledge.”

“Yes, of course,” Maftet ran her hand across band of my waist, and slowly continued without haste, “Ma’at tried to tell him stories of the past, and teach him principles that last; what it means to cast one’s mind into the sea of curiosity with humility; to burn to learn without thick hide of pride; to be adept and accept truth wherever it is found without being swept away by stray winds of blind arrogance that bind heart, mind and soul… But Djer would not hear, and it was fear that drove him into an ill-illumined cove of anger; therein lay the danger to his entire empire.”

Maftet led me back out of the waters and bade me slip on thin robe to begin our stroll along the rolling bank of the Nile, from which I no longer shrank. “His mind was closed and opposed to an intrusion or profusion of new ideas. Djer continued to plunder the soil, ripping asunder Gaia in greed for gold and precious stones beyond any need. He would not let his people read for fear of planting any seed of doubt in what he taught them to believe. Voices of reason were repressed and people oppressed, and thus his whole kingdom depressed.” She looked at me, now so intimately familiar, “Sound similar to your own clime and time?”

“So the more truth neared, the more he feared? He chose to be blind and bind himself to his own notions rather than disturb his emotions?” I had to strenuously try to repress laughter at the pleasantly wry smile of Maftet.

“Ah! You are not so mentally sickly as once you were; you’re learning more quickly. Good for you; what you say is true!” She brushed my cheek with lush-perfect fingers. “What is more tragic still was his shrill denouncement of any deviation from his religion; thus he turned his subjects into compliant pigeons feeding on bits of shallow doctrine cavalierly tossed on the ground for them to eat instead of the meat of unadulterated truth. This more than all else did grieve Dyēus and cause him to leave, while Djer made pretense of worshipping him still, though under different name, but the god he reverenced was no more than hand-shaped sod.” Her face brightened then to lighten the sky. “But Meryet-Nit did sit at the feet of Ma’at, replete with wisdom, and listened and learned. This is why, by and by, she came to be ancient predecessor of Sulaymān the Wise, son of Dawud,  though her reign was ill-fated… Still, she could not be baited by dollops of rancid scallops.”

Maftet laid us down, then, making her body my bed. “When you very first described the realm of Djer, I thought of hell and fire, of … well, shire of Şeytan, muck and mire of dæmons.”

“And so it was!” fiercely she struck and pierced my soul. “Evil is pitch dark, leaving no niche for light; wickedness is the blight of unsighted knowledge and wisdom; iniquity is the ubiquity of vain and shallow religion, bane of self-righteous hypocrisy, autocracy of unfounded moralism and ungrounded regulations thrust upon whole nations, an aberration of what is truly good, an abdication of sense and sensibility!” Maftet’s chest was heaving, breast profusely sweating; cheeks burning, her whole body churning … then someone seemed to apply balm of calm.

“Love drives out all fear, and where there is pure love, wisdom is near. Love and truth from above are open and free, and freely open the hearts and minds of those who lovingly open to love and free their hearts and minds to eat from the Tree of Life, which is free to all who will willingly partake, not for their own sake alone but to be shown and given freely to sisters and brothers, fathers and mothers around the world… Do you see now, my bride, how Şeytan prefers to hide beneath layer of pretentious religion and appear ever-so fair? Therein lies his subtlety wherein he gains custody of so many unsuspecting souls. His dæmons are trolls of ‘right doctrine,’ and thus there are those who, thinking they serve heaven, are evil and but leaven of evil and wickedness … and all in the name of Dyēus.” I felt her tears running between our cheeks, leaking out the sadness that lay within. “Do you comprehend?”

“Yes … I’ve rightly received and believe I now correctly conceive.”
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Maftet: Lessons Along the Nile, Part VI

“Do you see the hot sands blow?” Maftet quietly asked. “It was not always so.” She basked in the bright sunlight — strong, radiant beauty, as if Sol himself might belong to her — then she turned to me, and my heart churned under gaze that burned a hole in my soul. “There was lush green here, and myriad flowers, not only near the river, beside the water, but far and wide, much further than long day stride for even the most able horse. Nature flourished freely here, not by force, then came the curse worse than the plagues of Mūsa and Hārūn.”

“When did this curse, so perverse, befall the land of the Nile, turning fair garden into burning desert sand? Was this an awful reprimand of Dyēus?”

“No, this was the blight of Isfet in his fight against Dyēus and the bright heavens, as well as Sélená, Ma’at and all bearers of light and goodness, of what is right and true.” The face of Maftet was sadness, with no gladness, so that it tore my heart asunder. “It was during the reign of Meryet-Nit, beloved of Neith, whose pain was overwhelming as she prayed for the rain imprisoned in the sky by Şeytan, whom Milḉah had driven from her realm of the Chaldeans, lest he overwhelm her people … but much to the distress of her sister-queen to the west.”

Maftet let slip her robe to dip in the now clear, cool waters of the Nile, and steered me to do the same in pool of peace and calm, serenely flowing yet queenly, too, as Sol bejeweled her with dancing diamonds across her ambrosial breast. And across the crest, so near, dear Maftet: Gold-tan skin over span of well-toned body; smooth-rippling muscles, sharp-hard nipples, mystic-starred eyes, and silk-raven hair … all laid bare for me to see, but more beautiful yet was her inner-core. Wizened mind and resilient heart so kind, and both that bind truth and justice with love and mercy in soul worthy of such an heavenly god who through this world does trod.

“Milḉah, of course, never meant to send hell-bent dæmon west, lest he should wreak havoc upon this realm of Meryet-Nit and whelm her with grief of no relief,” Maftet continued. “Meryet-Nit knew this, tis true, and never laid blame upon Milḉah, for it was the shame of her father, Djer, whose four-generation rule was wicked and cruel. Djer grieved Dyēus and did, in truth, beckon God to leave… No matter; the pleas of Meryet-Nit were of no necessity to appease Dyēus, who already loved her with an undying love.”

“Ah, then how is it Dyēus did not reply to the cry of Meryet-Nit on behalf of her peaceful and feeble people?”

“You assume, my lovely groom,” Maftet swam the short span to hold her lamb. “Her people were not peaceful nor feeble; spiritually cripple, yes, and deceitful yet lethal in evil and filled with foul fecal. They had, you see, been tutored by Djer and thus neutered of all purity and virtuous maturity. So did Dyēus take great pity and intervened as he could; he saved the holy city. And Gebeb of earth and fields, hearth and homes, aided father Dyēus in saving many crops of grain through strain of Isfet’s reign of terror — much like Jozèf of forthcoming lore — but in no wise could Dyēus even the score… And so now you see so much sands and wandering bands.”

But then did it occur to me, “When are we now? Will you allow me to know, what time is this? Would I be amiss in believing we are here amid such shear desolation just after such adverse curse?”

Maftet did not dismiss my speculation with humiliation. “No, not so terribly amiss; we are here after the fact — the terrible act of the ddiafol — but some time after, in another generation to chime another lesson in your ongoing education.” Maftet supplely coupled me and smiled. “There is always reason for every season in your life; we are not here merely to bathe but to further swathe your intellect and increase your faith.”

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Note: Egyptian goddess by Robyn Jane as found on http://www.deviantart.com; Painting of Nile River by Frederick Goodall Londra at http://www.artslife.com

Maftet: Lessons Along the Nile, Part II

Maftet did not insist, nor did I resist, as we walked down into the Nile, under the Nile. Shadowy milk-water, silk enveloping my body; my mind swirling, soul churning. I could breath beneath the stream like some mystical dream, and from there I was carried, not buried, to another place in time and space. The world was new as we flew back up onto the river bank and sank our toes in tall, lush grass; the Nile now shone like sparkling glass just poured from heaven to leaven the earth newly birthed, yet I had not to be told this place, still new with morning dew, was old but not worn or torn.

Maftet pointed toward garden grand — the Garden of God, I knew — made to stand forever and ne’er one celestial strand to be undone. And there, too, was the man, tall and beautifully tan, walking naked without shame, for there was no one to blame, and instantly I knew his name: “Adama.” Maftet nodded. And all the trees and leaves, bees and flowery marquee towering, overpowering enchanting entrance into Paradise, this slice of heaven on earth made to give mirth to both in safe, luxurious catacomb called home.

Whisper breeze carried Voice across choice meadow into the man’s ear to hear. “This all is yours, and fruit for good food, but be astute, ever acute and take care not to tear from the Tree you see of Knowing growing in middle of Garden fine, what flows with such sweet wine, for in the event you snatch potent fruit so cogent to overwhelm this entire realm will be the helm-blow of your death. Tis not for you, man of earth; t’would be your everlasting dearth, but see! I’ll give you one like me — like you, to be yardımcı-ezer — strong and true, lifelong companion to see you through and subdue the wild to render mild. Ah! She is here, your separate self, your better part, torn from your heart, but God gives you new start … as one again to begin again.”

Maftet then pointed to woman anointed with beauty ravishing, lavishing Garden with song so strong and melodic, hypnotic, and instantly I knew who she was: Havva (the one some call Eva.) “So there she is so near the Tree to see how luscious , precious, and wondrous. And will she tempt in contempt of divine decree…?” With no glee nor plea, Maftet silenced my foolish spree. And I noticed mordant serpent twisted round trunk, nearly sunk into bark crevices unseen to scheme his sinister plan to destroy the human clan as Havva approached without reproach to take of mystic produce to suck sweet juice with no abuse, but there was Adama, too, so obtuse.

“Listen! Closely listen!” Maftet insisted, and the serpent spoke to Havva: “Look at the fruit, how delightful, yet has Dyēus told you not to eat such divine treat?” Havva smiled and answered, “No. Dyēus has told Adama not to eat of the Tree, lest he no longer be free; to me Dyēus has said nothing of the kind, and I am not blind.” But wiles were hidden behind serpent smiles, and he answered, “Dyēus knows that when you both eat, you will take your seat among the gods, and with feet will trod the sky so high and heaven so nigh. So why deny your mate to satiate burning hunger for learning instead of churning in soul with gaping hole?”

“I don’t understand,” not muzzling my puzzlement. “Did not God command both to steer clear of tree and ne’er to pluck fruit to suit desire for higher state in defiance of Dyēus?”

“No! Do you not hear what is so clear? Listen and understand ere I reprimand what your foolishness demands.” Maftet held me square and froze me with glare. “I am not you, and you are not me; that much you see, but you and I are we. So I may freely dip, while you may not so much as sip; thus, I may do this while you’re held at bay. Ah! Simple child, Dyēus forbid Adama to eat of this fruit to suit his own raving craving, not Havva, which is why she said, ‘We may not eat; such must be as God does see.’ But it was on that fateful day that Havva gave way to compassion and passion of love, and gave precious fruit to the knave she was meant to succor and save… And the whole cosmos could hear Dyēus crying, and Ma’at raging at the lying ddiafol, desperately trying to forestall the inevitable fall … but the wall arose, and division has been the dæmonic derision of humanity sunk into insanity ever since. And now for ages pages have been written, and prayers have ascended with incense, as the three-mothers rinse away with rain the stain of Şeytan, to regain humanity into unity with complete immunity as it was in the beginning.”

At this I wept and slept on crest of her breast. Is there, then, any hope as we grope through this world, trying to cope with endless, primeval evil? Whisper in dream seemed softly to reply, “One grand try … Dyēus … one and only one Son … birth on earth … hell to fell…” Buckled into Maftet, instinctively I suckled rich flow, pressed against blessed breast, in nest of arms and legs and safe from harm and all alarm.

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Yardımcı-Ezer — Turkish/Hebrew combination translated “help;” however, ezer is used to describe God, the Everlasting One, and only otherwise uniquely applied to Havva (or Eva, Eve)

For other meanings of names and terms, refer to Part I

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Note: Image from http://www.devids.net