Miss Scorpio

She loves and loves but is not loved. For she is barren of the fertile fields to grow a child. All she wanted was to be allowed to love. But we always strive to do what is forbidden. And here it is: the rotten fruit of impoverished love.

The sky was black as charcoal pits, dusted with speckled stars

Ashen grey surrounds the land

Smothered with burning flowers.

The time when clouds shrivel away

When the Sun makes her bed

At the end of the day –

The Moon himself appears with Hope,

Of meeting his Love

Who sets the distant pole -

Where their love can never be found

For distance - darkness forbid it

And they are not Fated to be bound.

The time when Light-time creatures stop;

And Night-time villains stir

And children drift, still in their beds, like sweet little corpses.

Now a twisted dark shadow creeps from her hollow home,

Uncurling her limbs, unfolding her bones,

Like spindly branches against the yellow Moon’s glow.

She gasps a worn breath –

For she is alone.

Miss Scorpio is always alone – even past death –

From the moment she burst forth from the fiery pits below

Forming a woman in thin, black dress with lace like a spider’s webs,

She was alone.

But oh, how she despises having nobody to care

Nobody to hold, nobody to tend to,

Leaving her an empty phantom, wretched, torn, bare.

Every day is hell, every second, misery;

Yet it is all made lighter by the Moon

Who shines over her fears and wishes, eagerly.

He is her ambient Hope.

The Light deep beneath her blackened spirit.

That can never escape the prison where she chokes.

The Moon too is lost in despair,

But shines brightly each dark night

In false Hope and care.

Miss Scorpio plucks a star from the glistening skies

Where stars shine like jewels, mockingly with their togetherness.

She smothers its brightness; in her frail arms it lies;

Momentarily, the brimstone in her core rekindles,

There is a quiescent crispness in the air

As she smiles, skips, glows like a candle

Not caring for her life that burns away

With each hour that passes,

For she has found something to love! Just for one day -

Until that star quickly fades, from white to orange, to dull brown

Then to black, like the two charred, bottomless holes in her sockets.

The heat cools, her trembling arms release the star, her face twists into a frown

Hot tears streak down her dirt-speckled cheek

Scarring her dark and beautiful features

With deep channels, now trickling red down to her feet.

Says she: ‘This pain is slight,

‘Compared with the jolt that forever thumps my core’.

Now, the black ball of dimpled rock takes flight

Down from her body, frozen, scored, wild

Leaving her numb Soul barren, untouched,

Having held that dimming star, cradled like a child.

But Hope is the fuel for any fire.

Miss Scorpio – Nature's Widow –

Never did her efforts to love expire:

Miss Scorpio once walked in the Midnight Meadow

Stopped, picked a flower from the dark fields of green,

Shaking it with joy, as the wind sped her on with each blow

And she ran through the grove

With this new Heart’s desire towards the rays of tomorrow.

For it is so beautiful to have something to love –

But soon, the nodding flower’s petals

Dropped out one by one, escaping her desperate clutches in the cold breeze

Leaving a grey stalk, bent like soft metal

Flying this way and that as they fell

In wispy circles, through dark clouds

Flying to another part of hell.

Miss Scorpio’s Soul bleeds

As her red tears slowly streak down her dark dress

Down like a deadly bullet surpassing time itself, as it speeds

Through a hard granite chest

Containing the Treasures of Life,

Repelled, ricocheted, is forced down to a grim death.

*

*

*

Miss Scorpio is still waiting for Life to start

For a fraction of joy, for a sign from above, –

As her dark Soul will never rest until it possesses a Heart.

 

Copyright © JRFB 2013

Moonboy

As the Sky-dwellers climb wearily through the golden gates of puffing clouds, Almighty Nyame winks his gleaming right eye and the world grows dark: the sun is setting. His left eye opens wide: a beaming bright circle in the charcoal sky emerges. This source of light hardens from a pale slither to a deep yellow orb, smiling at the patient ground below.

It is at this time, when the soaring birds sleep and the parted clouds disperse, that the Moon-worshippers arrive wearing midnight blue masks with glinting flecks of gold that dance in the light. They place polished stones and shards of flint in a perfect circle with a smoky fire in the middle, under the cold shadow cast by the Moon. Boys in blue and gold robes begin a slow drumming as the griot enters the circle:

“Tonight is the night of the Full Moon.  Let me tell you a story…”

Still with their masks on, the Moon worshippers begin to sing and hum while the griot paces and prances in the organic circle of holy rocks. He begins:

With a wink, the Sky Lord’s eye is turned

And the Sun’s rays slowly cease to burn.
The land grows dark, the light runs thin;

For at night, a serious matter lies within….

Moonboy walks alone in his golden mask

Adorned with gold and painted parts.

His movement is brisk, slow, tall, long,

His voice, so graceful, he sings his sad song –

The Luna dance which calls on the Moon

Asking the gods for blessings soon

On this clear, cool, crisp night

To open his soul, deep and bright…

With a sigh his breath flees his shell

And wisps this way, that way, soon to dwell

Up in the sky, breathing new air,

Seemingly content, holding no cares.

He becomes the Moon, shining his great light,

Beaming full, gazing at the sight

Of his people below sending such love,

Yet something is missing in his life above:

Bright yes, and forever glowing full,

The Moon’s calm mind will never dull.

The light he promises will always shine,

“But I need a companion, to call mine.

For you, my friends, I'm proud to call my own,

But I lack a partner, where true love can grow –

In my bold heart, which seems so kind,

Where love’s own faults may leave me blind.

Oh Nyame, my lord, grant my wish!

I serve so loyally, your feet I kiss –

So please, oh Father, give my heart joy

And end my suffering by one divine ploy.”

And that night, oh, how Moonboy cried,

Adding waters to the oceans, now undried.

Our hearts broke for his sad tale,

But what could we do? Mere mortals fail…

With a downcast face, and tear-stained eyes,

Moonboy tried to hold his ties

To heaven above, now starless and lighter

But Moonboy only held on tighter.

His piercing scream of grieving sorrow

Echoed from night until the morrow,

When divine Nyame began to shift his vision

And the Moon was caught in this division:

The Sun, so radiant, gleaming crimson red

Arose, still weary from her golden bed;

Bemused, she sees the forlorn white beast

And wonders why he’s here, floating in the East.

Unseen, she swiftly hides behind him

Causing the world’s light to grow dim,

As her curious acts of wonder

Leave us down here now to ponder

How this glorious and bedazzling meeting

Is possible, real, without cheating.

For it must be the doing of the gods                           

Watching proud, as their son no longer sobs.

He sees her light, hot yellow with lightening,

And cannot stop himself from fighting

With his conscious thoughts of love

Was this blessing sent from Above?

Never had he seen such aura

Of exquisite beauty, in his corner.

Smiling, beaming, he is Home

Finally, he does not feel alone.

She shyly shines when she sees

His love for her burning through the trees,

Over hills, in the Earth and skies

Her heart flutters in surprise –

Their soft eyes meet and brightness bounces

From their hearts, the light renounces;

For, having been so intimate, so near,

The time has come to return the sphere

Back to sleep, back to the eye,

Leaving Moonboy alone to cry

Tears still hot from Sun’s warm light

Soon hardening, cool in Earth’s sad night.

“Oh Sun, don’t leave, I love you so!

With you I'm free, my body is whole –

Your breath, your light, you fertile rays

Nourish my lost heart in this lonesome haze.”

With that, the Moon, his heart so splintered,

Began to fade, Summer turning to Winter –

Having lost his beaming yellow soul,

Now remains a wisp of light in the cold.

A line of pale light blends in the sky,

The Earth-dwellers often wonder why

The beautiful circle of pure light

Has gone to bed, little by little, tonight.

The Moon-worshippers wail in terror at the tragic tale of Moonboy's lost light. Their chants and cries drift through the sky, kindling Nyame the sky god with the same cares. He thunders and the ground grows wet, the soil, once pale from the Moonlight now is darker than night.

Moonboy awakens from a sad sleep, and sparkling with delight, he shouts blessings from above to his faithful worshippers, “When my blue light had scattered into cool night, your cries and prayers roused my shattered soul!” And gradually, the Moon began regaining his strength – his dimmed inner light became illuminated from the spirit of the people. 

Night by night, the Moon emerged into the dark night sky, averting attention from the spotted stars until on the thirtieth night he was whole again, his heart was restored and his hope renewed.

From that night, Moonboy slowly dispersed and re-emerged from a small slice of pale rock to a mighty orb of brilliant light every thirty days, in the hope of meeting with the Sun, whom he loved dearly, and  that they may again share their ethereal beauties in the sky.

Copyright © JRFB 2013

Skydark

The clouds painted with hints of heaven cast deep, sinister shadows on the beating surf below, slapping at the rocks with the aquatic wrath of a god. The soft arms of nirvana, where glinting gates of gold peep out, allow the Sky god to offer himself as a host, and to dramatize the celestial love from above. The ridges of the nebulae turn from blue to pink as the Sun closes her weary eyes and drifts along to the edge of darkness, shepherding oranges and reds into her sacred field of sleep.

 As my dark pools are torn from the fantastic realm above, I see fields of rusted fronds fluttering in the wind. Strands of cobwebbed hair determined to distract my vision cannot mar this delight: the silver spray from the waves; the pink bonfire of beaming divinity; the teasing light from across the bay. The latter entices my interests with its bitter brightness – a sparkling jewel amongst the lurid colours of sunset. My heart urges me to edge nearer to this furtive radiance and so my legs amble over rocks encrusted with crackling salt crystals, and spiked grasses bleached blue by the Earth’s malice, until the night engulfs my clouded mind and the swirls hanging above.

Chills lace my body as dribbles of icy water seep into my sink; the light draws me closer still. I find myself at the end of the shore.

Before me – nothing but the dark perils of a wintry sea, behind me – the echoes of rusted tufts of deathly shrubs, melting and fragmenting into the curling wind. Below, the hungry waves kiss my feet, waiting for the final plunge; above, the light screams for me, bellowing my name.

The yellow glare penetrates my shivering bones, extracting my soul, my will. So brilliant, so intense – I must join you at the core. My essence, slipped from my hollow shell skips from the shore onto each swirling wave, like the gold flecks from the fountain above, dancing in the bubbling sea.

*

Closer and closer our hearts collide. I release a howl, you discharge a sigh. The rain ceases; the wind croaks; our spirit surges; we are one.

Copyright © JRFB 2012