Return Of The Druid

Return of the Druid


In the days of old they called us
the Wise Women
and begged our aid
when the world beat against them.
The Druids crowned us
High Priestesses –
we raised storms to keep
the invaders at bay.
Dancers span spells
and wrought powerful potions,
bringing new life into being
and healing ill.
We brewed roots, bark, plants and
poisoned berries
and sang to claim the winds and wilds.

Then the clergy spoke and made
all the Cunning
into Heretics,
ostracized from the Divine.
We terrified them
and were ground down
under the boot of
the cruel Inquisition.
We became Witches
and the burnings began.
But we never honored Satan –
only nature.
Yet those put to question
still gave up
their friends to fire and gallows.

We now roam the land as Vagabonds
telling futures
and changing luck.
Skilled eyes that can pierce through the veil
will be Clairvoyants,
mastering the spirit world.
When doctors and science
fail to tame the feral –
they will label us mad and
damaged Hysterics.
Yet healers always find new ways
to combat superstition.
And when faith returns
I know Wise Women
will ride the moon once again.

(Kit Perriman)


(Pictures:
Wilhelm Kotabinski
John William Waterhouse
Evelyn Nesbit)

Copyright © 2021 | KitPerriman.com | All Rights Reserved

Fairy Dust

FAIRY DUST

A few wires –

a leap from reality –

and Peter Pan took flight

through fairy dust

in front of us

on an ordinary weekday night.

And glitter

shone in the eyes of the child

sat there all evening

stock still – grinning –

finger in mouth –

catching his breath and believing

every tick

of the crocodile’s tock-clock,

and each brave sword blow,

walking the plank –

taking the plunge –

without ever needing to slow.

Peter Pan

And I ask

myself why the magic is

sham and corrupt,

in failing to

 ward off those

pirates of old –  our growing up?

(Kit Perriman)

(Degrassi Wiki Gif in Public Domain)

Copyright © 2021 | KitPerriman.com | All Rights Reserved

Blessed Be

BLESSED BE

Don’t overlook me

   or underestimate my power –

I rock in the darkness of night

   on a misty bower.

Moon

The clouds troll my words

   and carry my message on air –

slashing the canvas of space with

   a shadowy tear.

There’s fascination

   veiled in many disguises –

but some seek only the darkling

   feral surprises.

I glow beyond time

   like an ancient wayward daughter

birthed of the moon  – You can simply

call me an author.

(Kit Perriman)

(Photo: Public Domain)

Copyright © 2021 | KitPerriman.com | All Rights Reserved

Queens of the Stone Age’s Burn the Witch

Burning

Burn the Witch

(John Homme, Troy van Leeuwen)

Holding hands,
Skipping like a stone,
On our way
To see what we have done.
The first to speak
Is the first to lie,
The children cross
Their hearts and hope to die.

Bite your tongue!
Swear to keep your mouth shut!

Ask yourself,
“Will I burn in Hell?”
Then write it down
and cast it in the well.
There they are –
The mob, it cries for blood!
To twist and tale
Into fire wood!
Fan the flames
With a little lie,
Then turn your cheek
Until the fire dies.
The skin it peels
Like the truth, away –
What it was
I will never say.

Bite your tongue!

Swear to keep your mouth shut!

Make up something –
Make up something good.
Holding hands,
Skipping like a stone,
Burn the witch,
Burn to ash and bone!

(Video: YouTube)

Copyright © 2021 | KitPerriman.com | All Rights Reserved

Fear

 FEAR

I slid through the gap and into a spiraling whirlpool,

landed inside the gray with a nauseous splash.

Trees stood stripped of dignity, shuddering in the twilight

of winter, naked but broiling with torturous stakes.

Eerie

As branches drowned in the wake of death their fingers pointed

through ripples pungent with sulfur and blue, bruised blood.

Shock took captive my slipping heart, which spluttered against the

ominous fog creeping in to steal my good eye.

(Kit Perriman)

(Photo: Public Domain)

Copyright © 2021 | KitPerriman.com | All Rights Reserved

Rose

ROSE

You gave me a rose

in the bandaged wraps

of winter.  Plucked of

the heart.  Pulsating,

dripping with love and

valued more than blood

rubies.

Just a small

gesture.  Rich spiral

of life,  juxtaposed

on frosted snow sheets –

but oh! so poignant.

(Kit Perriman)

Copyright © 2021 | KitPerriman.com | All Rights Reserved

Bruce Springsteen’s Magic

MAGIC

(Bruce Springsteen)

I got a coin in your palm,
I can make it disappear.
I got a card up my sleeve,
Name it, and I’ll pull it out your ear.
I got a rabbit in the hat,
If you wanna come and see.
This is what will be.
This is what will be.

I got shackles on my wrists,
Soon I’ll slip and I’ll be gone.
Chain me in a box in the river,
And I rise up in the sun.
Trust none of what you hear,
And less of what you see.
This is what will be.
This is what will be.

 

magic

(Photo: Public Domain)

I’ll cut you in half,                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            I got a shiny saw blade,                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    All I need’s a volunteer,
I’ll cut you in half,
While you’re smiling ear to ear.
And the freedom that you sought,
Drifting like a ghost amongst the trees.
This is what will be.
This is what will be.

Now there’s a fire down below,
But it’s coming up here.
So leave everything you know,
Carry only what you fear.
On the road the sun is sinking low,
Bodies hanging in the trees.
This is what will be.
This is what will be.

And here’s The Boss himself:

(Video: YouTube)

Copyright © 2021 | KitPerriman.com | All Rights Reserved

Resurrection

RESURRECTION

Resurrection

On this page I recreate history

from the remnants of childhood –

This keyboard grows smooth with jabbering fingers

tapping the fear and wonder –

My screen glows white from the heat of knowledge

lighting the hidden shadows –

And free from the net that strangled my spirit

I resurrect Her wild past.

(Kit Perriman)

(Painting: Public Domain)

Copyright © 2021 | KitPerriman.com | All Rights Reserved

Kit’s Crit: The Inferno of Dante (Robert Pinsky)

Dante

Robert Pinsky was the U.S. Poet Laureate from 1997-2000, and therefore my expectations for his translation of Dante Alighieri’s masterpiece The Inferno were very high.  I was not disappointed.

Pinsky recreates the medieval world view of religion and society -the original political subtext – the stunning imagery – and the 3-line interlocking stanzas of the terza rima rhyming scheme to great effect

Staying close to Dante’s intent, Pinsky underscores the symbiotic relationship between poetry and love.  He draws parallels between the narrator’s journey from Hell to Heaven with that of Ulysses’ adventures in Homer’s Odyssey, maintaining the power of the original poetry and making it accessible to the modern reader.  The Italian text is printed alongside the revised translation.

Dante’s work has influenced a wide range of intellectuals from Galileo through to the Modernists of the early 20th Century, particularly T.S. Eliot, Ezra Pound, and James Joyce.  Many artists have chosen to illustrate The Inferno in their own style.  This edition contains 35 interesting monotypes by Michael Mazur, although I personally favor the earlier illustrations of Salvador Dali.

Copyright © 2021 | KitPerriman.com | All Rights Reserved

Hole’s Softer, Softest

Softer, Softest

(Courtney Love, Eric T. Erlandson)

the-witch-525958_640[1]

I tell you everything
And I hope that you won’t tell on me.
And I’d give you anything
I know that you won’t tell on me.

The pee girl gets the belt
It only makes me blind,
Your milk is sour
And I can only cry,

And I can only cower,
And I can only cry,
You have all the power.

I’ve got a blister from
Touching everything I see.
The abyss opens up
It steals everything from me.

The pee girl gets the belt
It only makes me blind,
Your milk is so sick,
Your milk has a dye,

Your milk has a dick,
Your milk has a dye,
Your milk has a dick.

Burn the witch, the witch is dead –
Burn the witch, burn the witch,
Just bring me back her head!

The pee girl gets the belt
The old milk makes me blind,
Your milk is so mean,
Your milk turns to mine,

Your milk turns to cream,
Your milk turns to crime,
Your milk turns to cream,
Your milk turns to crime,

Your milk turns to cream,
Your milk turns to crime,
Your milk turns to cream.

Listen to Softer, Softest here:

(Photo: Public Domain)

(Video: YouTube)

Copyright © 2021 | KitPerriman.com | All Rights Reserved