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Januarie 2015

Geseende Lammas

Terwyl dit Imbolc is op 2 Februarie in die Noordelike Helfte van die aarde is dit Lughnassadh hier in die suide. Dit is ook bekend as Lammas en dui aan op die eerste oes en Fees van Brode. Volgens legende word die Mielie koning (Corn KIng) opgeoffer sodat die oeste volop kan wees. (Net soos simbolies vir Christene Jesus opgeoffer kon wees sodat die koring geoes kan word ~as jy dink aan die kaf en koring verwysing ook, is dit nogal interesant ~)

Waneer die God opgeoffer word verloor hy krag en die Godin is hartseer maar sy weet die God leef nogin haar en sal weer gebore word in lente

Dit is een van die Lammas legendes.

Op 2de Februarie mag julle ‘n geseende Lammas hê en mag die Godin julle oeste seen, mag elke goeie ding wat julle saai en oorvloed gemaai word.

Liefde en vrede vir julle in die Naam van die Godin en Die God,

Wolfie

Gift

when hands reach out to the thirsty
but there is no water in sight
it is all lost through millions of holes
in empty hands

oh the gift
oh the poison

swollen bellied children
fattened by malnourishment
weeping flies and tired of lies
soon they will be gone

oh the poison
oh the gift

walking the street like a wraith
a little one so lost…
a car stops and for the cruellest of sin
he earns the glue to sniff
to forget

oh the gift
the poison

society is diseased
poisoned and blind
they cannot fix this
they will not fix this…

(c) 2015 allen simpson
the word gift here is a play on words. In German the word ‘gift’ means ‘poison’ and sounds similar to the Afrikaans word for poison which is ‘Gif’

Cradle Of Filth – The Death of Love

I love songs that tell the story of Joan of Arc. She is an important symbol in history.

Video:

Lyrics:

Her penultimate sighs
Called softy on the kindling wind
Her saintly eyes filling with tears, lifting with truth
And then a golden flash like the onset of Heaven
Leaving her screams breaking my heart
And in the grip of fire
I knew the death of love Continue reading “Cradle Of Filth – The Death of Love”

maar net

The Persistance of Memory - Salvador Dali-
The Persistance of Memory – Salvador Dali-

vandag is maar net nog ‘n dag
waar ek wandel alleen
sonder jou

maar net ‘n vakuum dag
soos die buitenste ruimte
waar daar baie plek vol niks is
tog is daar sterre
wat net help onthou
dat al die mooi is weg
vir nou

in die ruimte lag kwasars en
dans planete gravitasie-mal hulle dans
en ek mis ons ritme
ons eie dans
maar die wentelbaan wat jy is
het my af laat dwaal
ek dobber alleen, soliter
in swart abyssimale ruimte
tussen sterre
maar my hart is blind vir hulle flikker vandag

jy het gesê ek moet vir jou wag
hoe lank nog
moet die tyd-ruimte kontinuum
my sap van my krag…

maar eendag is jy terug
ek sal dan weer kan asemhaal
maar
net
tot dan
leef ek in die onthou

(c) 2015 allen simpson

geinspireer deur die werk van Salvador Dali

stywe oomblik

die vroetelstemme in die nag
van reëndruppels wat val, so sag
en verder stilte

dis jy en ek alleen

die hitte wat breek soos ‘n granaat
en stof wat vergete raak
terwyl ons oukombers lê, en luister na reën

dis jy en ek alleen

dan is dit asof die stilte bars
in skerwe tussen elke plas
donnerse bliksemstraal

dis jy en ek en jy klou my stywer vas

(c) 2015 allen simpson

catacomb attraction

your empty eye sockets
like little pockets
where wisdom used to be
(it was so shiny)
now you’re just a skull
a catacomb attraction
to give satisfaction
to tourists
who will never understand your misery

who were you my dear?
were you a Madam or Monsieur?
was it black death
that left
you on a pedestal of million bones
with only the silent moans
coming from your
gaping jaws?
in the catacombs of the lost

(c) 2015 allen simpson
just a stupid poem written in boredom inspired by the millions of skulls underneath Paris in Catacombs….

Pale feels like tonight

pale feels like tonight
when all colour is gone
when all that is you
drains away the light
in me

pale feels like tonight
when every memory bites
agony is the ink in my heart
written in memories
faded by the dark

pale feels like tonight
there is no you in my universe
you’re submerged in what-was
and you will never be again

pale feels like tonight
when all colour is gone

(c) 2015 allen simpson
inspired by an episode of Criminal Minds

Echospasms Part 1 and 2

(i) voices

It is dark outside and I hear the voices and they are calling me, calling me to… begging me to go outside and they are calling me calling me, so many voices like a million angels a million strangers and I stand up and I open the door and a chilly wind is blowing and I am sweating sweating drops falling on the ground like rain from my body and I step into the darkness and it is cold but I am sweating and then I remember as I listen to the voices echo and I remember and spasms of shock rips through my body and I remember…
I am a patient in an asylum, and my drugs are wearing off and all this I hear and see are delusions of a disturbed creature, the monster in the mirror. Me.

(c) 2010 Allen Simpson

(ii) wistful

The hole in the wall there’s a hole and I crawl to it with my torned soul and I look and I see greentreesblueskies but inside it’s raining and I feel the tears and I hear the cries of the ones around me and there’s longing in our hearts and there’s dreams in our hearts our wistful tears like a spider’s web we are connected by joy and connected by pain and I wish we can escape through the hole in the wall and hear the echoes of the cries of my soulkindred and I. And the Asylum grows cold and the night steals the visions of the hole in the wall and still we are trapped in here with our echoes of longing…

(c) 2010 Allen Simpson

Echospasms is a word I created and roughly translated it means ‘the feeling you get when dark emotions echoes in your soul and you are trapped in a situation where there is no escape’

(c) 2010-2014 allen simpson

Notes: In 2010 I visited an insame asylum in weskoppies with a friend. These pieces of prose where inspired by the incident.

It is not a happy place, especially if you are an empath….

Spiraldancing

Come brother, come sister and ride with me,
let the dance of spirals, setting ourselves free,
listen come listen, Ma Earth is calling
us forth into the spiral, dancing.
The horned god Cernunnos is here,
and Diana, Virgin-huntress, my dear,
so dance in the circles and set alight,
the path that leads to the Other Side.
Come now Faerie, Selkie and Faun,
and Seelie, Unseelie and Unicorn,
dance to the portal, hear its call,
trust in the dance, you will never fall,
Isis, Aradia, Cynthia,
Osiris, Hermes and the Daghda.
The Spiral now open,
never broken,
and we dance.

(c) 2010 Allen Simpson

An old Pagan poem I wrote filled with Shamanism

curse of a father

a father, blessed with children
thinking it a curse
lifted his giant hands
broke his youngest wrists

a father, shaped in anger
three damaged sons
his whips the only caress
no ‘I love you’ from his lips

they grew up, and ran a way
oldest became an addict
but daddy’s demons did not go away
middle one gave his life to crime
was killed by police, gun in his hand
the third one ended up in an asylum
think he is not worth much

a father, alone in an old age home
no visitors, until
he died alone

*

please stop to hurt your children
please stop messing up the youth
make the future for them better
what you reap, you sow in truth

(c) 2014 allen simpson
based on a true event

The Dream

destiny, broken fragments teasing me
can’t you see, the pieces of what must not be
every night, we meet in our little secret place
every dream, there I am haunted by your face

clarity, escapes me in this insanity
foolishly, I just want to taste more
feverishly, I want to hear you under my caress
lingering echoes remain of all the desires
that is you

this prison we call love will not let me go
and the magnet of our souls
tortured by happiness that should be sin
just keeps the sanity barely in

destiny, star-crossed lovers that we are
we can’t see, passion blinding us
every night, when no-one else can hear the pain
every dream, ends where we shout out each other’s name

And in the mornings you’ll phone me
and say you wish we can meet
both stuck in the same dream
but you are oceans away from me

(c) 2015 allen simpson
based on a true event…. it is strange if you and someone you have never met face-to-face share the same dream… even oceans away from each other….

Shared dreaming is more common than you think….

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