The Goddess Within

 goddess

When they thought us wicked, we were really wise

In the Burning Times of world despise,

They named us as tricksters, blamed things dark and worse,

Called cunning and wile a demon’s curse.

Heaven and the Underworld, summoned at will,

Crept on cat-paws to nurture or thrill,

Reading vain futures – balancing humors –

Attending births and healing tumors.

Folklore has always survived the Dark Ages . . .

They’ll never destroy the timeless Sages.

 

(Kit Perriman)

(Picture: Public Domain)

Copyright © 2021 | KitPerriman.com | All Rights Reserved

On Edge

EDGE
(Sylvia Plath)
“. . . The moon has nothing to be sad about,
Staring from her hood of bone.
She is used to this sort of thing.
Her blacks crackle and drag.”
(Photo: Kit Perriman)
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

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

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

The Mystica

untitled

(Photo: Kit Perriman)

 

THE MYSTICA

In solitary non-compliant places

the Mystica rise

against the gravitational tug of nature

thwarting mortal will.

Gnarly limbs that grasp into consciousness

press the rub of time.

Their fingers grapple the swollen currents –

blasted and empty –

swimming away from treacherous  sandbanks,

unchecked by any tide.

A mysterious spell-binding graciousness

captivates the eye

and highlights the worn skeletal echoing

of constant pressure.

Their branches lie bare of verdant feathering

yet will bloom again

as they wrestle the constant drownings that

sap land-locked spirits.

Look! Out of even dead apparitions spring

promises of fresh life.

(Kit Perriman)

Copyright © 2021 | KitPerriman.com | All Rights Reserved