Asterion
Asterion
Located in Knossos just near King Minos’s Cretan Palace
In the centre of a labyrinth designed by Daedalus
The Brooding Dark Prince, with a penchant
for turning young men into blood & mince
A ruminant biped on hungry virgins fed
A prisoner never to be released
Pasiphae’s poor boy child
A wild roaring beast
Furious, Hideous
Incestuous
Lies
Lurking
The Bull of Minos
The Vengeance of Androgeus
The secret crimes of an old vain King
Hidden in a maze at the heart of all things
Locked inside the prison that pride and pain brings
We sometimes become closer to the monster we really are
But perhaps I go too far…
For our story truly begins
with the seed not the fruit of our sins
In a time before Aegeus threw himself into his own sea
& Ariadne led Theseus on a golden thread to victory
3500 years ago…
King Minos had a beautiful white bull
The most virile in all of Greece
It’s fleece like snow,
silk & ice
The God Poseidon wanted it for his sacrifice
Minos overcome with greed
betrayed the second son of Cronos for his need
Refusing to pay Poseidon, his patron god of the sea so high a price
He exchanged the bull before the sacred feast
in a gambit to suffice
Poseidon enraged
with fury
turned to Aphrodite
whose bewitching spell was then unleashed
Causing Queen Pasiphae to fall in love with the very same beast
His obsessions; his beloved bull,
his beautiful wife. His most coveted
possessions would become the ruination of his life
For in madness, drinking deep from its inverted cup
Pasiphae upon the poison chalice of lust then supped
Seeking false copulation in a contraption of Daedalus’s divination
Her perverted abnormal passions rose and with this white muscled
bovine entwined in the throws of ecstasy she mated
Her warped animal desires revealed, reciprocated
The shameful act of Minos concealed, lest he
be implicated by what his subjects saw
The fate of Crete sealed
Thus was created
The Minotaur
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We all have Minotaur’s hidden within our hearts.
We all have desires, wants, needs, faults & flaws that we endeavour to keep locked away from the rest of the world. None of us are perfect. None of us are immune. We are all human. This world could never be that simple.
I’m not talking about monsters here. I’m not talking about staring into the abyss. But we definitely seem to be a beast that is in a constant struggle, locked within a tug-of-war with our own nature & divinity. At very best, we are strange inexplicable creatures that will never be fully explainable in all of our depth & essence. We are more self-aware than any other creature on this planet. Yet, we are more cut off from our instincts than any other creature on this planet. We are by far, the best & worst of what we have to offer. We are a mystery unto ourselves. Human hearts & minds are labyrinths. An enigma designed by God, yet forged in the jungle of mankind.
Perhaps, this is why I so love the theatre & pageantry of Greek Mythology; the deep complexity of its themes. They seem to grasp some fundamental element hidden away at the very base of the human core. The very fantastical nature of their stories pays homage to the bizarre intricacies of this human existence. They give flight to the great conundrum that is this riddle wrapped up in the encasement of human flesh.
& none more so, than that of The Tragic Bovine Boy Prince, Asterion. Better known as The MINOTAUR.
It seems I have always been fascinated by Greek Mythology, I can’t remember a time in my life that I wasn’t. Some of my earliest memorable daydreams are of the mighty winged horse, ‘Pegasus’. I’d sit in school, staring dreamily out the window & I’d imagine him swooping down from the clouds & carrying me off upon some great adventure. Normally, I would envision my school chums & teacher looking on with incredulous amazement as I waved goodbye & shouted aloud, ‘Adios Suckers!’
But, this time it’s been my pleasure to share the adventure & take you with me. I hope it has been entertaining, thought provoking & just a little bit scary.
So, until next time…‘ADIOS SUCKERS!’
The Little Things
A glass of water
The smile of your daughter
The smell of grass, a touch, a kiss
The simple things most people miss
The moon, the sun
The smoothness of a stone
The mountains covered in mist
The symphonies that exist within a lovers moan
The coolness of a breeze, the whispering of trees
What do most people care for simple pleasures such as these?
Instead
We stare at our feet
When we walk down a city street
We ignore need for the sake of greed
We rip down forests & make rivers bleed
We hear an animals’ cry and we dismiss it
We poison the sky & we kick the earth when we should kiss it
What insanity, what vanity, what disdain
We have such a capacity for good
But seem bent on causing pain
We see ourselves at the top of the tree
We fool ourselves in the duplicity of our own divinity
Within our eager ascension to this planets throne
We have left ourselves isolated and alone
Within the complexity of our superiority
We have lost the ability to see
We have lost the simplicity
The simple truth hidden behind all the lies
& that is…
We don’t need angels’ wings to see the beauty in things
We don’t need Gods’ permission to see the sun rise
We just have to open our eyes
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Do you live?
Do you love?
Do you dance?
Do you still believe in a world filled with romance?
This world can be a beautiful inspiring place if you take the time to look
For beauty does not just belong in children’s books
Everyday people amaze me with their selflessness…
A mother putting her children first
An act of kindness unrehearsed
It can be big. It can be small
It doesn’t matter at all
All that matters is that it happens…
People fight unbelievable battles, bigotry & hate
They fight unbeatable illnesses, sadness & fate
They devote themselves to helping others,
to protecting animals, to feeding & clothing the poor
They dedicate themselves to giving more
They do it with such vitality, such willingness, such grace
They make this world a beautiful place
What about you?
How do you see the world?
How do you view it this very moment? this very day?
Do you see the light or does the darkness get in the way?
Do you see the beauty glimmering behind the curtain?
Or has this life left you uncertain?
Well…
I see it like this
I see it in all the little things a lot of people miss
This world can seem hard & unfair
A place where people don’t care
A world devoid of new beginnings
This life can seem like a lottery with no chance of winning
It can seem futile & unforgiving
For some people it can seem not worth living
Tomorrow we may die of cancer
Tomorrow we may get hit by a bus
This world is not permanent for all of us
This world is filled with things we can’t control
But we cannot let the darkness bind our soul.
For each new day
We have a chance to say, “This world begins anew”
A chance to fill our hearts with something beautiful.
Something true.
We have a chance to shine. A chance to be the light.
It doesn’t matter if we shine as bright as a star
It doesn’t matter if we blind the world with our brilliance.
It doesn’t matter if we shine like the simple sweet smile of a child.
It doesn’t matter if we shine with the gentle luminescence
of a kind thought or tender touch.
The wattage doesn’t matter much.
All that matters is that we shine
This world can seem angry, strange & cold.
We can forget the importance of ourselves sometimes.
We can lose ourselves in the dark.
Trapped by our own irrelevance, we cannot see for ourselves a way out.
But within this world there is a thread.
An almost intangible link. An essence that runs thru us all.
That entwines our existence to every living thing.
A divine commonality that connects us all.
A golden thread that is so delicate
it is almost lost to a world of darkness & self obsessions.
But it is held visible within the little things.
The simple things that most people miss.
A touch. A smile. A kiss.
It can seem almost insignificant.
But it is the thread that connects us all.
It is this thread that leads us to the big picture
It is this thread that gives us peace & allows us to shine
& when we shine the world becomes a little clearer.
For when we are gone,
the sun will still rise & the stars will still shine.
This world is not yours & this world is not mine.
This world will go on without us
The truth is we are not the stars of this play
At best we are merely spotlights in the stands
But for a time we have a chance to show the way
We hold the beacon in our hands
For we are the new sun that shines today
We are “Dies Natalis Solis Invicti!”
We are, “The Birthday of The Invincible Sun!”
& Our time upon this earth has just begun
What you choose to do with your time is your decision
But..
Remember this
If we shine, then we are the spark
If we shine, we can light up the dark
If we shine, then we can inspire
& If we all shine,
WE CAN SET THIS WORLD ON FIRE!!!
Leaves Meander From The Trees
I love autumn.
It’s such a glorious time of year.
I love the smell. I love the touch. I love the feel.
I lose myself within a patchwork world of oranges, yellows & reds.
I love these colours. They smother me with their brilliance.
They encompass me with their warmth. A warmth not born of the sun,
but of open hearth fires, steaming bowls of soup & warm toasty blankets.
This time of year always makes me feel like a kid again.
It brings to mind memories of walking home from school & marvelling
at the changing leaves of the Chinese tallowwoods that lined our street.
In visions of my childhood they are like fireworks blistering the silver sky.
My question for you is this:
Why is it that only animals and small children understand the glory of
rolling around unabashedly in autumn leaves?
The answer:
We never lose magic, we only take it away from ourselves.
This Molten Skin
This molten skin
This slow smouldering from within
It starts with an itch
The biting of a small ant
Barely perceived by tender flesh
Its’ shiny black mandibles stuck in my pores
Deep within me something stirs
A single bubble comes to the surface & my epidermis shimmers still
Something rises against my will
I sweat and my mouth runs dry on the river of desire
I am like a struck match the moment before it catches fire
I cannot BARE TO THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE
I AM ALL CONSUMED BY THE FIRES OF MY IMAGINATION
I am like primitive childhood art
All red & yellows & splashed oranges
Throbbing, Burning colours pulsing through my heart
I am Krakatoa
I am Mt Vesuvius
& I feel like I have copulated with the night & given birth to fire & light
like the gods of ancient have chosen me to fuck
& been left exhilarated by my touch
burned bright by my humanity
illuminated
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When I was penning this poem
I wanted people to get an idea of what it feels like when I write.
It’s like I’m tapped into something primal;
connected to the thread of humanity that entwines us all.
I wanted to convey the urgency of it, the breathlessness, the need
I wanted to give a sense of the overwhelming sensuality of it all.
Poetry for me can be best described as a burning orgasm of the brain.
A delicious manipulation of the cerebrum.
Like sex with an angel on a runaway equine.
Dangerous. Out of control.
Sublime
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