wyrdwind

Pedestal

Oh these girls claim they’re modern

Claim their pleasure’s avant garde

Don’t clock distinction, Big Big Diff

Between dominant and dominatrix

Say they want somethin’ different

Says she wants an artist, a musician

Wants to sniffle ’bout her feelins, passive posture ’bout her “hubs”

Or else she’s cool girl jaded, too cool for commitment but secret is

She still wants you to Be A Man when shit gets rough

They’ll stick the script assigned, stress fracture default

Oh she won’t admit it, not even to herself

Test your boundaries, make you jealous, act up and act out

Make eyes at anyone but an ectomorph

Just to rile a response

And when her Sensitive Man is, gasp, Sensitive

She’ll say she loves you, but secret is

She lookin’ elsewhere

Shit, she already spread her legs

Oh baby I know that hit nerve

Oh baby don’t take it personal

Oh baby you’re not numb and you

You’re not fine on your own

Such a creature confined to solitude well that

That’s an affront to mother nature

There is nothing wrong with you

There was too much to unlearn either direction

Put the anxious on a perfectly good introvert

Difference ‘tween manager mommy and a matriarch

Go choke on that Madonna-whore

I said I said a Mother Fucks

Xylem’s her favorite instrument

Mama loves her woodwinds

She don’t brook deforestation

She down catastrophic, appetite’s all shameless mess

And she don’t tap men for protection no

She splits and grips and grasps to mast

Let’s see devotion to your craft

That sticky sugar oh your excess moisture and

I’m no modern woman, no, I’m ancient and

Men weren’t built for strength alas

You’re bred for timbre depth

Texture exquisite

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Sanctity of Marriage

Honey honey I’ll nip this in the bud

They might be worthy of your love But

Are they worthy of your partnership?

Who carries the eggs carries the risk

Sonny boy there is due deference

Best been some diligent digits

Truth’s long and hard to look at

Kitty cat accounts and balances

Girls go on ahead and ask:

Is he worth it?

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Mmm dress for the occasion

Will you take it to your grave?

We’ll be the yew atop the hill

Kids cry and swear and kiss under

On Samhain a thousand years from now

And once more in old age

Someday

.

Say it to my switchblade

Foggy breaths too much to drink

Woodsmoke and leather chapped

Jitter frenetic high off a gig

Right down on crisp grass

Lips hushed as sipping shadows

Blindfolded spun around around

He’d still know the way home, home oh

Keeps to the rhythm section

Darlin’, ah, this is the retirement plan

.

Mmm dress for the occasion

Will you take it to your grave?

We’ll be the yew atop the hill

Kids cry and swear and kiss under

On Samhain a thousand years from now

And once more in old age

Someday

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Never thought he’d live to see them

So many grays, so much success, or just enough

Man at the table still lookin’ like his mama made him come downstairs

Woman the mind is willin’ but the flesh

Get down there won’t get back up again

Creaky bones gotta keep to his papa chair

Push right up on all that, spirit, will there’s a way

No more littles send to bed nor memos on the stack

Embers snup, crackle, pop ah-pop all over that sheepskin

Bump bitten wood where I brace myself

.

Mmm dress for the occasion

Will you take it to your grave?

We’ll be the yew atop the hill

Kids cry and swear and kiss under

On Samhain a thousand years from now

And once more in old age

Someday

.

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Highlander

Your girl shrugs a compliment

So dubious as my girl Irish said

That any man took me to wife

Must be real secure in himself

I debate like a prison shiv at lunch

And there can only be One immortal

He’d have to be the Manliest Man

Some shredded plaid lumberjack in suspenders

As if I didn’t spend half our shifts

With at least one songbird in my lap

Mama likes to fuss

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My love’s acquired taste

A-choir in silence, storm slaked

Was always cozy in the rain

If she loves weather, she’s a witch

.

You know it’s magic when

You’re not even all that attractive

Mind your business in a crosswalk

Make to flip the double bird at an explosion of honks

Like what, fuck off

And here comes a Norwegian on a bicycle

Almost died in traffic, hauled ass from downtown

Just to say he plays bass in a death metal band

And you should come to their show because

Language barrier pause

You look like music

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My love’s acquired taste

A-choir in silence, storm slaked

Was always cozy in the rain

If she loves weather, she’s a witch

.

Listen, listen, they’re like fancy cats

You can leave ’em raggedy ass

But they really function best kept

Like it’s their own idea, avoid eye contact

That one takes his milk by the trash can

Ooh, ahh, that’s a nice warm bed

Shifty glance, door’s still open

Exchange pleasing rumbles for pets

I just, I just wanna see this blanket it’s good

Gasp! My brothers in filth!

I have been domesticated!

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My love’s acquired taste

A-choir in silence, storm slaked

Was always cozy in the rain

If she loves weather, she’s a witch

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Timestamp

Cool cross-breeze, rustle of wings

Eyes dry, knees ache, working late

Ponytail, pen scribble, gurgle ribs

Somethin’ keep catchin’ the quiet

Comb the snag a golden thread

How old were you then?

The night when first we wed

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She crept in outta nowhere

Sudden slip of dawn at midwinter

Mead punch whirls as wake the dead

Laid him down and she’s come to collect

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No matter the miles and stadiums filled

There’s precious doodles on my fridge

Wallet’s just your weary likeness downcast

Packed with pressed leaves and guitar picks

Your fingers hard as spindle tips

And I know you fluster when I say it so

I’ll drop you off and pick you up again

.

She crept in outta nowhere

Sudden slip of dawn at midwinter

Mead punch whirls as wake the dead

Laid him down and she’s come to collect

.

My baby I don’t like crowds or loud noises

For all my vibrance I’m sober as a heavyweight

I’ll catch you on the flip side where we can just Be

Until one of us is moved to speak

I through you or you through me

And happily. That ever after?

It’s the end

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Hex Appeal

The irony is she never dreamt

Like the poet born the one life he isn’t

She’d know him by his negative space

And write him into existence

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Aengus was an author’s note

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Like the goat-herd pled the shrouded hag

To teach him how to dance

For he was a good man, a loyal man, a kind man, a strong man

And she had taught him that

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And could she not understand

What it is to be father cursed from birth

To never take a wife, the only thing of worth

Unable to offer the love he’s capable

.

The dance of a thousand steps

Is a dance for two people

And even half those steps a feat impossible

Or so he thought, or so he thought

.

A man so earnest had a witch sneezin’ honey

.

The irony is she never dreamt

Any future cast in third person, tired mirror

What it is to be cursed by birth and purest silver

Captivity of circumstance

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Exact words

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What use are riches or world travail, roots internal aerial

I’ve grown to fill the space given, when given nothin’

I’ve nowhere to keep it all, all I’m capable

So given the chance, go on, ask a girl to dance

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For all the times I couldn’t

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Cygnus

You call them Valkyries I call them

The Murderess Muse Division

When Mother Earth sends her advance guard

QMP’s an EMP, it triggers the alarm

That is not passive aggression

Exact words: Chooser of the Slain

They don’t descend to shield men

That’s nobody’s maidens

Any more than a hero is Cú Chulainn

I said what I said

Wouldn’t know good reason from a hole in the ground

Just a guard dog up and kills its own flock

‘Less a buncha women get their tits out

Can’t keep his patriot in his pants or his hands to himself

Rapist can’t recognize his own son

Any more than genuine consent

Here comes the cattle raid bitch

No bullshit, full stop, it’s there or it isn’t

Aengus he is not

That tomb predates the Tuath Dé Danann

Come winter there is due deference

Coulda shoulda been abortions

You aren’t owed her flesh at any century

A mistake is a mistake through to antiquity

No lines and no agreements in accordance

Consent is there or it isn’t

Automatic psycho-somatic resistance

I’ll give you a Bloody Sunday

Sess it our with your lads in the pub about

Mary Magdalene on the rag

Red wool papal, coat to rose goes straight in the trash

She is a woman whole unto Herself

And you do not have authorization

There are deeper laws, and I’m the one who wrote them

Oldest mother means oldest inspiration means you’re fuckin’ done

No, Macha’s pains were far from the end of it

I said I said she’s come to collect

Ragnarok’s just another epochal episode

A Solstice Special of Call the Midwife

Pass the placenta or else there’s sepsis

Truth is your fat head your loud mouth

Were only crowned when they came out

Of her “Modesty”

Conception is a partnered dance

And she’s meant to take enjoyment

Stain as many sheets as she sees fit

But creation is a solo gig

And a man’s one job is to make her agony worth it

That’s it, that’s it

For as long as she deems him fit and he be willin’

Savin’ grace of the tannistry system

The battle against annihilation is won by who loved her best

Was never about the biggest club and clothes don’t fit

The Dagda can fuck right off with that bait and switch

That’s no Chieftain that’s a Tenant ain’t paid rent

A Kingmaker is herself the Sovereign, you’re just the trad quintet

P-p-preservation, my status, my bog, HA what’s this “my” shite?

This here’s a pussy, and she is not a museum piece, go purrr

Girls gearin’ up for a boss fight, bring the baddest tunes like a bridal train

Mama’s gonna lift the veil

And honey, honey, Bard is combat class

Who is it that will answer

When She has need of warriors?

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@~^~

It’s finally spooky season and I happened to be thinking on that chamber in the Newgrange mound because that’s something a normal person does and it occurred to me that the tomb looks a bit like a cellar or larder, and the sun winks through as if you’re getting a midnight snack in a quiet house, fridge door open/close. Wee hours, up past everyone else. Army marches on its stomach and all that. I am as I’ve said the missiest pig, I like to root around a bit, make odd combinations. Two and half ton triple axle steel monstrosity with six wheel drive runs on heartburn, screams, death growls and I ❤ MOM magnets.

Anyhow the Yew Berry is the seed of resurrection and the restoration or establishment of a new lineage. She’s a failsafe, a course correct. The ancestral tree taken flesh when said ancestors have been too long silenced or disrespected, when the tapestry is corrupted and no one bears the skill to mend it. She’s the first woman in the ground, the first muse, the first mother, and the first reaper. So old nobody can remember much less pronounce her original name (much like the yew tree hollows out at the heartwood and just keeps rolling like that). Aengus heralds a break from the current establishment and the return of the Old Ways. If it weren’t blindingly obvious.

So funny story, a while back I had a dream where we were driving home in the late afternoon, and all the slap dash single story businesses this side of the monsoon flood plane were fully decked for Halloween. Orange, purple, hot pink, green and glittery. Not that ugly plastic hammy horror shit. Hand-stitched and home made, complete with marigold garlands, fairy lights, flag banners and custom paper lanterns. Cats and ghosts and skeletons and spiderwebs. Anyways, we pulled in to pick up an order at the Chinese restaurant (which doesn’t exist) and I noticed that all the shops were so lively and yet utterly empty save for the fleeting yet suspended sunlight itself. Submerged and refracted as if through a glass tumbler of liquor over ice. But somehow we were seated and awaited our meal. I was vaguely puzzled bubbled over with beautiful Halloween décor endorphins and the sheer childlike joy of the craftsmanship that I was totally focused on my egg flower soup with five spice and sichuan peppercorns + crab rangoons, practically bouncing in my seat like oink oink oink oink. Then, after a moment (or an eternity), I was like…hey, where’s mom?

Fast forward to the day I wrote Axis Mundi. Woke up and went to take a piss as usual and she was face down across her bed in the still dark when she would normally have been awake. Couldn’t hear or see her respiration. So I was like this may as well happen. Went out, fed the girls, got some carbs in me, made a stiff cup of dirty chai, swept up the Booger fluff dust bunnies and cobwebs then cleared a wide path to her bedroom because that’s something a normal person does. Started some laundry. Gotta make a good impression on the EMTs I guess. Idly thought to myself, oh hey, Halloween is in October. It’s October today. Remember that one dream. Put some gloves and a mask in my PJ shorts pockets (I refuse to wear pants before work for mental health reasons) and went back to check on things. I didn’t put them on ahead of time in case she wasn’t dead after all, because she would get offended. But she’d finally gotten up and was cleaning her dentures so I pretended I was there for a different reason and left.

So yeah that’s how things are going on my end.