Sunday, January 07, 2007



You planted the seed of desperation and walked
lonely, these fables as they grew
miraculously told were like attics in the ear, as
golden as sleep and loud as blinking
dank night is your blanket, and you drift
through the centuries


your breath a desert wind, and death and
destruction are balm for your
heart, but a battle is being fought in your
eyes. Released upon earth
savior of the wise, destroyer of those who lie


daughter of Ra, your thighs
two columns of fire, like a lion you rise
to harvest men only


To pacify Sekhmet, festivals were celebrated at the end of battle, so that there would be no more destruction. On such occasions, people danced and played music to soothe the wildness of the goddess, and drank great quantities of beer. For a time, a myth developed around this in which Ra, the sun god (of Upper Egypt), created her from his fiery eye, to destroy mortals who conspired against him (Lower Egypt). In the myth, however, Sekhmet's bloodlust lead to her destroying almost all of humanity, so Ra tricked her into drinking beer mixed with pomegranate juice so that it resembled blood, making her so drunk that she gave up slaughter and became the gentle goddess Hathor.



Bassoon said...

Egad, man! What's with all the black?
Have you condemned your readers to the darkness of solitary confinement?
The white letters are like bleached bones in a great pit of despair.

Larry Sawyer said...

Black is the new red. At least for the next couple of hours.