There Was This Boy So Regal

There was a boy of ancient lore, who walked so regally through every door;
He was ruddy and strong, wise and as stately as an eventide song sung long;
He grew in stature and knowledge, and naturally knew what to do each day,
As he perfectly balanced work and play, and would say only what was right
In sight of everyone under the sun, because even in the dark he lived in light
So bright that many thought he’d been forged as a knight by heaven’s might;
And so it was that on a battlefield fierce he dared to pierce the enemy lines
With but sling and sleek stone by which he alone slew the one giant of fear,
Who stood so near on dreary day, while his people watched with admiration
And sensation as the great, husky foe fell to the ground with terrible sound;
Then did the army gain courage against pain of war and tore into the field,
Led by this brave boy whom history knows simply as David, born to be king

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Do All Things Come to an End?

Do all things come to an end?
Or is there hope round the bend?
Will my story somehow blend
With another and contend
In ceaseless life to extend
My story still being penned?

Note: Sevenfold poem in seven lines with seven syllables per line.

In the Corner with Maftet in Bubastis

Here it begins: my long series of mytho-poetica inspired by two very talented writer-poet-bloggers ~ see below ~ one interwoven, multifaceted tale that would consume me for months. For those of my readers who have not read: Enjoy! (But you may want to begin with the two pieces that inspired me… Again, see below.)

What am I doing here in this drear room in Bubastis in doom of shadow corner, so many sadistic strange faces? And who’s the witch that paces back and forth like she’s the frackin’ dream queen?

“Yeah! That witch is the bitch of war, my dear,” voice at my shoulder, and I shuddered. “She’ll dance and prance, but blood lust is a must for Bast; she just likes to drown her victims in fine wine first before lunging for the kill.” Light laughter. “Yeah, it’s her thrill.”

And the cats; I like cats, but their purring was alluring. Slap! “Bitch! Wake up unless you wanna be her boy-toy! She’ll suck you dry and leave you to rot in graveyard lot! Stupid man! I knew you needed me here; your haven is craven fear, right? Right! No might, no sight, no fight… Pathetic! Come here… No! Near, my love. Why the hell do you have an ear if you can’t hear?”

“But who are you?”

“Maftet, wife of Ma’at, but why in God’s name do you want to know? Just shut the hell up and stand behind me, kind of like you’re scarred, because you are ~ like an infant ~ far from home.” Wide shoulders, strong as boulders, silken hair, back bare and luscious. “Look! Her next victim, so unaware! Listen to her dictum, and the man is so blind! Men have always been, and there’s the purr of her cat to allure! Gods! I’ll rip apart the cats and make hats of hell ere I tear into her and chime Shai’s death bell!”

Bast like feline and soothed among cast and crew of old tale spun, told anew, unheard by little bird, “ah! but his mistress sees now how he’s ready to bow! Good so far; maybe she’ll steal him for her own meal, if she’ll stop drinking Bastian wine so finely laced, not benignly … Is she stupid, too; so putrid! She still doesn’t see!”

“See what?” Trembling. Assembling courage, but so damn pitiful in mystical presence of pleasance of Maftet, my savage protectress so ready to ravage … who? One and all to maul? Maybe I should crawl…

“The stich, my love-dove, so weak and bleak! The stitch on the rich bitch-witch!”

“Where? I see no tear…”

“Ha! No wonder! You blunder through life anyway; yeah! you need to stay with me, even after this day! You’re too damn blind to find your way; that’s how you stumbled into the gloom of this room in the first place, and with no trace beyond Ma’at … and she ought to have pity on you!” I moved closer to her back for lack of strength. Laughter, demeaning but preening, too. “Look! The stich covers more than a niche! At the bottom of her neck.” More laughter, this time cruel with some bloody drool. “You should’ve seen her before, just after… Star-knife slice and I made her a wreck!”

The man moved closer. His mistress pricked, gave an unseen kick. Ah! But Bast and Maftet noticed ~ it was really obvious ~ but the man was oblivious. And then the woman began to weave as something began to leave with spirit heave… And cat’s eyes turned green, so serene … hypnotic, exotic, erotic. It wouldn’t be long now…

Instinctively I grabbed Maftet for fear… “It’s alright, my dear, just stay near… We’ve played this play many times before, and it’ll not be you who hits the floor!”

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Note: This was all very gratefully inspired by the creative work of unbolt and Tony Single, specifically their collaborative work, the second part of which is entitled, Sekhmet. Thank you both for this fascinating, exciting new venture … not, mind you, an addition to their creative work. One might consider this an inspired ‘spin-off?’ Whatever the case may be, hope you (my readers) enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed imagining and writing it!

Terror: Blast of Bast and the Meek Seeker

How the hell did I get here, I wondered. But now that’s a pretty question: Here is not there where I was, but where is here? It is cold and I haven’t even a coat to fold round me. It was warm with Kheba, and she promised no harm, but this … this does alarm!  And then I heard the laughter — cruel and mocking — I turned and churned inside, and was instantly beside myself. There she was, seated upon regal crystalline throne; hauntingly beautiful; tauntingly majestic. Poisonous pied piper, I knew her with only some few glances before… Bast.

“Did you think you had gone unnoticed, my little fawn?” Sprinkle of mystic evil and twinkle in her eye, she could easily spy my fear, though I shed not a tear. “Oh … my mother? Perhaps sisters or brothers? No, they are not here, my dear; and Maftet and Ma’at cannot be sought.” She rose, striking an altogether magnificent pose, looking as if she were deciding just how to dispose of me, nothing more to her than an insignificant bumble-bee. Her smile was meant to beguile as she stepped down from royal chair with barely any sound, and I instantly found myself in arm’s reach.

“Yes, I’ll loosen your fetters and teach you better, for I know what you want — your deepest secrets and desires, hardwired into your soul from foul bowl of Dyēus — and there’ll be no more frustration after your castration. Ah! No, no, no … this is not damnation; this will be the foundation for new life, not an aberration nor stagnation of existence. Nay! It is in your persistence in mere subsistence of what you now are, which is far from what I will make you, that causes such aggravation and exasperation.” Finger to my lips to hush, shamefully causing me to blush.

It seemed every beam, the floor and ceiling was coated in ice, bloated by an ongoing winter, so I knew without asking and wondered how it was Bast was basking as if in glory … but, perhaps, she had another story to tell? Evil may not mind the bind of freezing cold too bold for mortals… Ha! The slice of ice that kills may fill her with a measure of pleasure! But what of me? Shall I be made a eunuch by her wicked blade?  With that thought, the very laugh of Bast half killed me… In one very real sense, I’d have preferred to seal my death than endure the coming torture; I desired complete departure.

“Why do you think this will hurt when I’m expert in this skill; it will not kill,” Bast circled around me and bound me by her very presence. It was then I noticed the irregular, eleven-pointed star on the floor, with seven longer than four, which bore grotesque images of creatures only to detest. What meaning did Bast invest in this symbol, and what black majik did mingle within? “Ah, so many numbers, eh? And so many say what each means, but they lean on their own understanding, misapprehending.”

She seemed intent to explain, but that without any strain: “The seven pointed rays represent perfection — and upon reflection, you’ll remember learning as much, such as your learning goes — and the seven flow out further, which means they are read first, said first. The four shorter rays display rebellion … rebellion by an hellion like me!” And Bast shook the palatial tower of power with her tremendous laughter. Stupendous, to be sure, and certainly horrendous. So she imagines herself the perfection of defection from heavenly realms; highest infection upon the earth … without much reflection?

“You doubt me!” came the angry shout. “We’ll have a bout, then, to convince you of my clout! Whom do you think could rise so high and sink so low; higher than the heavens, below even the Abyss? Lies in guise of truth! Flies of lies from Dyēus, the Tri-Mater witch-bitch, and their score of whores! But now for you, my pet; I have you in my net! And you are mine to sign and seal, so let’s be quick about this and you’ll not be sick for long. Ah! But you will belong to me and only to me for all to see forevermore! Now you’ll be my whore!”

Down went my pants quick as lightening — frightening — and out came blade so precisely made for emasculation with no duration. And I could not help my imagination of the very real possibility of invagination to follow. So would I be forever changed by such deranged and fallen goddess? Oh, but the change I could bear, but ne’er life cast with Bast; I’d already determined to die, yes, and fly even into the Abyss in order to miss such prolonged torture. How to make such departure, though, elluded me … but, then, I was already deluded into believing hope was long gone.

“Wake up for the gods’ sake!”

Kheba?

“You’re quaking and shaking! Wake up, I say! It’s not even day, but wake up … wake up for my sake!”

Kheba? I bolted up in bed nearly knocking her head, and screamed from the hellish dream! Dream…? Was it just a dream? It didn’t seem so, but…

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Note: First image, “Bastet,”  by Susan Seddon Boulet & Michael Babcock; Second image/photo, “Bast Statue,” found at Isis Books & Gifts  … Also, Please Kindly Consider Visiting J D Noble Publications on FB and “Liking” It.  I Plan on Utilizing This FB Page More Effectively in the Future … For Updates, Inside Info, Short Commentary on Stories and Other Blogs, etc. You Can Find the Icon-Box in the Lower Righthand Corner on This Page! Thank You!

Maftet: Lessons Along the Nile

“Dyēus alone plumed from his womb three daughters without mater,” Maftet slowly blinked, smiled and winked. “There names are Sélená and Cybele and Kheba, treble sisters terrible in power, but kindly enough to those who properly cower.” She looked reminiscing at the water, remembering the deadly slaughter of arrogant men full of prideful sin, and the escape of slaves to take new shape as more than sheep, to their own kingdom-keep.

“And they loved each other, and so others were born to adorn earth and sky, and leaven heaven with music bright and fair, through light and night, and never to care; they breathed pure air as they offered prayer to the three maters, daughters of Dyēus,” she shook her hair freely with look of radiance, and her fragrance intoxicating weakened me to fall into open arms to keep me from harm; so strong where I belong… I always had, and no more sad. She laughed.

“Ma’at was ne’er born, really, but torn forlorn from father’s heart to play her part as defender of truth, lender of wisdom, mender of foul schism warped through prism of Amheh, putrid hiss of the bottomless Abyss.” Her face glistened, eyes christened with crystal as I listened. “And so she it is who like great eagle high flies through the world of humanity, to look upon their insanity and puffed up vanity. And do you wonder why she tries to silence the lies and wicked cries of Şeytan flowing out from dæmonic Forest of Platan? You see what you’ve become as the children of God succumb to vile ddiafol, and march to drum of the scum!”

Crocodile in the Nile. Standard bearer of terror. Maftet laughed again as I began to shake and quake. “Have no fear, my dear; that’s only Sobki looking for his dinner, but he usually eats only the sinner.” More laughter. With wave of hand, she told him to behave and crave no meal here, nor try to steal her prized possession, which I surmised was me, which every open eye could see! I said nothing, though blushing at her stunning claim… It was true, though, and I knew.

“You see, my lovely little bumble-bee, when humanity was just begun you were one, and all was gay and fun; no foul play and nothing to shun, except the cunning Şeytan.”

The guile of the Nile was sweet, mystical ambrosia to my spirit. I replied in far-off, soft tone. “Yes … united in harmony, not blighted by blood and love in flood of peace…”

“More than this,” Maftet said as she led me down into the stream of numinous dream-cream with intoxicating steam rising into my nostrils and I so docile. “Before Havva and Adama there were the Binabae-Аралас, reflections of perfection, before Şeytan divided one and guided the now two differentiated and inebriated into drunken conflict that would afflict humanity from that day forth, and convict in sin that grew and festered, accrued and sequestered one from another — sister from brother, father from mother. And with murderous-skilled hands they killed the Binabae-Аралас; though few remain, tis true.”

“I don’t understand.”

Maftet turned on me fierce and pierced me with her eyes. “Dull-wit! Sit!” In the water? “Yes! I should strip you and beat you, whip you and treat you to Sobki! Have you been listening to what I’ve said, or is your head so thick as a brick! Little man, I’ll take a rattan to your naked ass for being so crass!” Her chest heaved as she deeply breathed; let go the phage of her rage. “Oh, but how would you know, and so slow to learn when you burn in your loins that adjoin to mind so blind? This is what happened when Havva was torn from Adama. Ah! But the ddiafol could not control the souls…” Maftet ran fingers through my hair to repair feelings peeling away in fright by sight of angry goddess. “But you have such a tender gender; don’t you see? Haven’t you always known deep down, to marrow and bone?”

Without being told, I made bold to touch strong, soft arm even risking harm … but Maftet gave no reason for alarm. “And so ever since that fateful day we’ve been trying to make our way to bring back together what was cut asunder?”

“Yes and no, which is why I’ve told you of Ma’at so bold; you’ve been sold the lie that adherence must be made to outward appearance lest incoherence cause an attrition of tradition holy and righteous, priceless in rightness. And all of this in plain sight of the blight of oppression and repression, degradation and humiliation, aggression and aberration. Tell me, my little pea, can two of the same love one another without any blame? It is the soul of another that fills the hole in one’s own dearest spirit. And why not? This is the mimic of the timeless limerick of Sélená and Cybele and Kheba, what first burst forth from the bowels of father Dyēus… Remember, I said he alone plumed from his womb three daughters without mater.”

“And so what of me, now that you’ve snatched me from Bubastis and hatched such truth in the bed of my head; what now as before you I bow?” More laughter after stroking my cheek so sleek with dewdrops from eyes unwise. Would she now baptize me in the Nile beneath her radiant smile? Drum beat of my heart left me numb and dumb, with her thumb pressed at base of my neck; what would I now become?

“Wait, my dove; I’ve claimed you, not blamed you.” With arm round waist, she made no haste to led me deep into the keep of the ancient Nile, and as she lead said, “Come; there is more to show, for you to know; truth kept below by the foe of humanity driven to insanity. Come…”

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Dyēus — Sky father, or shining father; believed to be the chief deity in henotheistic Indo-European societies

Şeytan — Satan; devil

Ddiafol — Devil

Maftet — Deification of legal justice; consort of Ma’at

Ma’at — Deified concept of truth, balance, order, law, morality, and justice

Sélená and Cybele and Kheba — Three great ancient goddesses here recast as intimate sister-companions and daughters of Dyēus

Binabae-Аралас — Two combined words used to cast an ancient, pre-historic race of homo hermaphroditus (intersexual)

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Note: Image of triple-goddess from http://www.pinterest.com

In the Corner with Maftet in Bubastis, Part II

“Step back into black.” Of course I didn’t understand, but waited for no reprimand. “So sad Sia’s not here for you, too, for sheer knowing’s sake to make you wise enough to devise your own escape.” Maftet turned and burned into my eyes. “I see the hole in your soul, and you’ve no idea what’s happening now and how the cow’s readied for slaughter to the daughter of war… Ah! And the claws on more than paws; you don’t see that either, do you?”

“No.” What blow to what ego left; most of it bereft now. Hell! I still didn’t know exactly where I was, and wanted to tear out my hair, and there was no escape, only the misshape of fanciful ideas of…

“Wake up, stupid pup! And take your place where I told you to hide!” She turned on me wild with mild smile, like mother to child and I was beguiled. Laughter. Shake of the head in pity in city so glum, filled with scum. “You’re too easy, ignorant, but not sleazy… I think I’ll end up buckling you to my belt like a whelp to help keep you safe from the strafe of Bast, my little waif. And you would like that, too, wouldn’t you?”

Beautiful. Vicious. Even malicious. Could I help but love her, especially under such fierce cover?

“You’re caught, my love-dove! You’re no good at hiding your thoughts!” Laughter again in kinder tone with knowing shake of the head. “Instead, just be honest; don’t try to lie, or you’ll die. I’m the companion-defender of Ma’at, who sought my skill to kill all untrue and those who skew… But look now! The slick black cat licks and pricks the incarnation of Bast, not to be lost, for revelation of blood, elevation of fixation on oozing red! It’s an exhortation to exploitation of unsuspecting fool, thickheaded mule; perhaps she should consume? He’d only resume his stupid ways in more dull days in disgusting brain-haze!”

Let him die? And not even try…

“Dammit, I told you already! Are you so unsteady in your own mind and so blind? I can hear you, dear!” Fierce look; soul pierce. I wanted to cower under her tower. “Shut up, now, and look! This is how she moves and proves her prowess, what behooves you to comprehend ere you bend to her feline ways on cloudier days in maze of confusion and dark illusion. I’ll not always be with you to correct, protect, and deflect all danger from the ranger of hell.”

Maftet grabbed and held me, nabbed my neck to beckon me listen, looking at glisten-face. “If I were to lie, my lies you’d believe just looking in my eyes, and you could not even try to resist what I insist… but why? You know so little, your spirit so brittle, but I’ll not belittle; after all, only last Spring did you sing your first babe’s song and sigh so nigh strong breast, sweet milk to drink to sink to peaceful sleep in protected keep. How, then, could you know, could you really see here what there is to see and the degree of malice from ages foregone, hidden behind devilish curtains drawn?”

“What don’t I see here in this place so drear? There is Bast; there is man; there is cat. There is dæmon cast, evil plan, and ghoulish feline rat! What more to even the score of what I know as I forego this awful trek bedecked in thin veneer under sneer of deities old and ere so cold?”

Kiss. Shockingly gentle. Smile … kind. “I am not blind but you I will bind to me to be mine at least till we leave the awful beast and grime-ridden place in Bubastis, however slow the pace. But look again and see; remember I said the claws are on more than paws? The two are one, and one is two; it’s true. Aton summoned Sekhmet and Bastet ~ her full name ~ in blame of war and violence, to deplore the double-whore of mindless defiance of peace, commanding all battles to cease; so they converged and merged, struck their blow upon Aton to show the power of unabated hate, and crash the tower and smash every bower of Ennead, but the champion of the pantheon was Ma’at, and she chose me as mate to satiate the anger of Aton and remove all danger of dæmons so loud and proud, who drain stupid men who cant think above notch of the crotch! Do you now more understand, your soul expand to see how out-of-hand is this deific grandstand of wretched whore-war band?”

Ah! But Bast moved again … surreptitiously, expeditiously, suspiciously, but oh-so obviously ambitiously. Ready for the thrill of the kill?

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Final Note: This is the second part of my own ‘spin-off’ inspired by the creative work of unbolt and Tony Single, specifically their collaborative work, the second part of which is entitled, Sekhmet. (You also need to back track to their first part, of course!) Now I will stand in my dark little corner and await (with Maftet) the next installment of their trilogy. In the meantime, I think I kind of/sort of promised something to Jesus and His Church, (also an excellent blog… the last two entries featuring guest writer Jonathan Kent Adams is very worthwhile to read in his Ramblings of a Sinner, Probably the Worst, Hopefully Getting Better: Part 1).