The Blue Eye Of Man. {poetry}
Medusa is my middle name;
Mary Magdalene,
my maiden.
When a man shall
meet me in the middle,
He will find his place
in heaven.
No longer will
the Dead Sea Scrolls
part far from you,
her wisdom.
For the Blue Eye of Man
hath opened now,
such excuses
are forbidden.
There is no time,
you think he’s there,
yet you play
him as a slave.
And now time left
you’re your coddled heart.
Your jaded bed is made.
It’s not my work,
to make you see
that you’re no less
than a King.
For still you lay
in painted sheets,
cutting feathers
from your wings.
Rise, young Jack,
and see my sun
shine down
upon your shield.
Your weapons here
no longer serve.
Thy kingdom,
ye shall wield.
And if you turn
unto the night,
beware her
awesome power.
For darkness
is my own
best friend,
but to you,
she may
taste sour.
Chew you down through
throat and bone.
She’ll smoke you
like a blunt.
To face the night
you must be strong,
not a running,
coward runt.
And yet you play her,
just like time,
Bending music-strings
to suit your
parasitic pleasures.
You’ll laugh and joke
just like the Jack,
who thinks it’s all a game
to play black-magick,
at such petty costs
to only boost your name.
Or perhaps you want
to numb yourself,
and dumb down
the angry dunce,
who deeply knows
there is so much more,
yet your soul
is out to lunch.
Dark things tied
your wrists ’round back
and you simply said,
“Give me more of
that poppy drink,
and Master,
I shall be your slave.”
The tools are there
to save your life,
but you fear
and spit at freedom!
For you know it not,
and so you hide
just like a doll,
a little weakling.
Drink the drink,
and let it roll.
What harm could
my loss do?
And yet the snake-like
demon race,
awaits your
stupid moves.
They’ll jump inside
your dunce-like crown.
Make a prostitute muse,
of you.
So how can I call you King,
Young Jack?
When such rumors
have been told,
that you run ’round
backwards hiding swords,
my gangsters saw,
you stole.
Real men light fires
to melt the metal,
and bend it to their will.
They treat war
as an art, with grace,
then use their
swords to kill.
For in me,
you saw a glimpse
of something foreign,
something strange.
You saw that I am
what you want,
but Want,
is a fool’s game.
I am a seer,
a Queen,
young Jack.
Your world
is but
my playpen.
I come down here
to teach, expand.
There’s nothing here
I’m missing.
If only your
Blue Eye was awake,
your wisdom,
oaken-carved,
you’d see I might
Light the path
that leads you
home with heart.
These laws
are what they are,
false sir,
so awaken,
as you will.
I’ll be there waiting,
in serpent shadows
until this earth,
you till.
For I cannot
make it rain
again to nourish
this parched land,
until your phallic power
stands to hold
my feline hand.
Fear not,
a wounded lion-heart
that sits upon thy nave.
The sight doth give me
powers great,
enough to keep
your fears at bay.
They call you King.
They give you gold.
And yet you cower
in the light.
And war will wage
of truth and rage,
but, the King
shall know his right.
And in this
battle for control
over eons of wandering time,
I know your Dark Lord,
well, indeed,
and I’ll tell you
he knows mine.
He’ll say to cage me,
and my sisters,
wrapping nymphet mouth
shut tight.
For he senses my power
is greater than yours.
Yes, a King shall know his right!
And in your scaly,
sick endeavor to conquer
all so dear and holy,
you’ve mistaken me
again, young Jack,
for someone
quite less worthy.
I pray you do not
teach again
what fathers
taught their sons.
How will it change
unless you walk
through the darkest
of your toils,
of your own long night’s
baby breath, and then into
Glory’s spoils?
Ah, to sew your
heart right back
into the colored fabric
of all life,
will take a needle sharp,
enough to puncture
past your strife.
But let it burn
and sting and bleed,
for you cannot stop the tide,
I told you once that
time is gone,
Now King,
open your Blue Eye.
The mother, sister,
wife and her blood,
your daughter’s sweet breath too,
awaits in Kali’s shadows, dears,
until you make
your move.
Holding still,
Great Mother’s world,
with muscles clenched
so tight,
my jaw has trembled,
grinding teeth,
just to make it all, alright.
Indigo eyes, please open
and be brave enough to see,
that sweet flower petals
may grow weary,
weakening your
daughter’s knees.
Stand with me.
All Privates.
Parts. Pricks. Pieces.
Hold together,
what could be truth.
For the Blue Eye of Man
hath opened now,
but it takes both me
and You.
*****
Kalisa Augustine is a certified Crystal Light Bed Practitioner trained in Intuitive Communication, Mediumship, Sound Healing, Crystal Release Therapy, Soul Retrieval, Chromeo Therapy, Magnet Therapy & Spirit Attachment, with a focus on the curation of energetic flow and harmony. As a natural healer in New York City, Kalisa uses a combination of vibrational therapies and shamanic technique to balance the multidimensional body and purify the energy system. Kalisa is trained to teach Kundalini Yoga and Meditation via Golden Bridge in NYC, and studied Toltec and European Shamanism via the Toltec Center of Creative Intent in Austin, Texas. She currently lives in Brooklyn, NY with her daughter Helena. Through her work and lifestyle as a single mother, feminist, shaman, writer and entrepreneur, Kalisa hopes to replace what is perceived as ‘mysticism’ with knowledge. When mysticism is replaced with knowledge, fear is dispelled, and we are more open to the power of healing.