I was ten when I witnessed the first
lot of Tarot cards being engulfed in the flames in the hearth. As
they curled and blackened beneath the unforgiving flames I stood
watching the strange characters on each card disappear. Problem
solved. 'They are the work of the Devil,' my mother exclaimed. I
was hooked. Though she had bought them herself, her soul was going
through a Christian phase and she decided they were no longer appropriate
for our family home. The phase was to pass, and she laughs with
regret now, as we travelling evolving souls will relate to, but
the cards and series of spiritual books were dust.
I was twenty when I was to rediscover the power and symbolism of
the Tarot and went out and bought myself a deck of cards. Although
I am yet to learn it all, I found a kinship in its use of symbolism.
I adore symbolism in all its forms; dreams, irony, sarcasm, speech,
art, archaeology, sculpture, fables, stories and myths. Taking a
journey through my interpretation of the Tarot was a natural progression
for me. These works are an on-going project. As with all my poetry
they cannot be forced or hurried. The meanings come to me when they
decide, and for this reason it is almost like a joint effort.
Note: Please do not take and use any of my poetry without prior
permission.
The
High Priestess Suddenly, I realise that I'm dreaming
Awoken in the realm of the nothingness
I rise and become aware of her presence
Familiar yet so very strange
Silently she kneels alone
Cradling a dying tree.
Haunting voices, soothing song
Escape from her unmoving lips
She doesn't yet acknowledge me
Yet I know she sees me
And I resist the urge, with every fibre in my soul-body
To ask her why it is she embraces it like a child,
And with motherly grace, she caresses its leaves
Curled and dying, like golden tears
Which once bore life, and worshipped the sun
Cling onto remaining branches, in sad defiance.
And she rocks gently, back and forth
Lets out an anguished cry
And I take a step back in awkward alarm
Ashamed of my intruding on this private moment
But she returns to her calmness
And deafening silence
Then once more hums a song
Of distant valleys
And the tree remains limp in her gentle embrace.
Then she looks at me, with unseeing eyes,
Wise eyes, of other-worldliness
Paler than the light that radiates from her
She opens her mouth, and beckons me forward.
Placing my hand on the twisted branches,
My body jolts and I cry out in pain!
Horror no mortal has the right or means to see
Invades my mind and penetrates my novice soul
Suffering beyond comprehension, a child!
I feel the energy release me on this realisation
And I fall to my knees
I too am now cradled by the Priestess
I too listen to her song
Until my shaking stops and my tears fall no more
And gently she tells me, in silent soul-speak
"It is for the soul I could not save that I mourn
A soul in pain and from this sister-realm I try in vain
It is for your mortal kind that I cry.
Awaken now, Enlightened One,
And speak not of this."
And then I was alone.
The Sun I feel alone as I enter the forest
Alone and afraid
My spirit urges me forward and I curse
Such reluctant steps.
My good humour is gone and I grow hateful of the darkness I once
welcomed.
I struggle to make out the silhouettes
Of oncoming trees
Which snarl and laugh as I pass
And dance into my finished steps.
Then I come to a figure, that of a young boy
Head bowed, face concealed
Under a flowing mane of down-turned hair
Sat before me on the path
Silent and menacing.
I acknowledge my shudders but banish them at once
For I am not in the mood to play games
With people of the Tarot.
"Name Yourself!" I demand
But bowed stays the head.
"Name yourself, forest-dweller! Show me your face!
For I am alone and unafraid, but welcome not the darkness
Or your silence!"
But bowed stays the head.
"I am The Sun" he replies, in the sound of a thousand
voices
And still his head remains down.
"You are just a boy, and you are in darkness!"
I mock to my surprise and irritation.
"I Am The Sun, as the Moon is The Moon.
The time has not yet come for you to see the light.
In the darkness you shall remain until the time has come.
To show you my face would be to illuminate that which you choose
not yet
to see.
Continue on your path, and return to me when you are ready to see
Your true self."
The Tower They told me I was to come to a mighty tower
Built high and illuminated against a blackened sky.
And from the windows, people would fall,
Screaming their repentances, souls lost in eternity.
But the reality of this card's realm
Was far removed it's the dramatised vision.
And greatly surprised, was I,
To come across a pile of rubble,
While forms with no faces cried all around,
Grasping and fighting over the crumbling walls,
Trying to salvage its once mighty form.
And in their distress, they noticed not this weary traveller.
And for reasons beyond my comprehension,
In agitated urgency which crackled like electric currents through
the air,
I too fell to my knees and grasped at the fallen bricks
And helped them build.
I found myself crying, and moaning with the others.
And together we built, and together we cried.
Yet no comfort was found from the presence of each other.
They were The Faceless, and I too wondered if my face was absent.
And with each brick I replaced,
A painful memory encased me
Long forgotten pain, long resolved troubles.
And together we built,
And together we cried.
And the more we built, the more it crumbled.
"Cursed be, this crumbling tower!"
I called out to the darkness,
"Aren't your walls meant to be mighty and strong?!"
"No"
Spoke a voice, the voice of the Tower
"For the Truth of the Tower is your Life gone wrong."
The Empress I saw her, in the vineyard,
Humming as she walked, contented smile
Surrounded by swollen grapes, on tangled branches
And upon such vines, in a mothers embrace
Entwined these grapes with fresh eggs
Coloured shells reflecting the dawning sun
And this illuminated the greenery in a splendid fire
And with grace and silken touch,
She turned each egg and grape with care
And beneath her fingers they welcomed her touch,
Wrapped in leaves of emerald green.
And such intensity of green!
Everywhere I look such life and purity!
Blinding me, I shield my eyes as they fill with tears
For who am I, such tainted a soul,
To look upon a place so full of light
And far removed I feel, like standing in the snow
Watching a family through a glowing window; safe and warm.
But gently she laughed, as she read my thoughts
"Come walk with me a while, Dear One"
And as I did so, I no longer felt afraid.
Her ivory gown hung loose over her swollen belly
And she placed a hand upon it.
"Why is it," I ask,
"That you turn each grape, caress each egg?"
You must spend a lifetime to make each feel so Loved and accounted
for"
"And for all eternity, I would be happy to do so,
For these are the babies, preparing for Birth"
"And the ones in the basket, sat on the ground? Are these the
Forgotten?"
She smiled as she gazed upon them
"Never, for these are the sacred; the chosen few.
These are the souls who died before Birth, and I plant them in the
ground,
where strong trees then grow. And as with their new life on earth,
they
blossom,
And because of the bravery of their First death,
Upon their branches grow a thousand more"
I thanked the Empress, Fertility Goddess,
And awoke that day in a calmer state.
The Wheel of Fortune Beyond the Great Forest I came to a vast wasteland,
Tree stubs with roots still grasping the earth littered the starving
soil
and yellowed grass.
Preferable it would have been for me to wander on alone
but that was a luxury far removed from here.
Everywhere around me, were half-beings
Human in form, but undeniably unfinished works
Like once beloved sculptures abandoned by their creator.
I wondered which higher grace, and for what reason
Decided one day to lower his tools
and leave these beings as they were, half-finished.
And as they were, they walked or dragged themselves
along the deadened earth, moaning their abandoned anguish as they
did so.
Torsos and legs stumbled aimlessly, as the faced-ones dragged their
bellies
through the dirt.
I began to feel uneasy, for their intention was not of aimless gesture.
They were hunting.
At this realisation, I began to feel nauseous,
or perhaps it was the feeling that the ground below me was rotating.
And in panic I turned to see a figure, at the edge of the wasteland,
turning an almighty cog
which in turn made the wasteland rotate.
The half-beings moaned at this commotion
and those that could drool did so in earnest.
I ran to the whole-being and demanded,
"Page of the wasteland, what is it that you do?
Tell me at once why it is I am burdened at your turning with such
a sense
of
foreboding?
Explain my anxious state!"
"Mortal One!"
He cried in fearful recognition,
"Conceal yourself at once, lest the Un-living acknowledge your
presence!
For hungry are the beings who hunt for the body,
those of abandoned state,
the drugged, the drunkards and the saddened
even the dreamers who wander too far from the blessed sleeping body.
Return
now at haste!"
"And this baron wasteland, why does it turn?"
My curiosity hindering my haste
"This is the Wheel of Fortune,
and turneth it shall remain, harvesting the living of careless
exploitations
and planting their bodies
With Those that are dead."
The Devil My Guides prepared me with intense spiritual
training.
They told me that my next quest was to be the most trying yet.
More dangerous and perilous a lesson
Than a soul of any advance could envisage.
I was to find The Devil.
They told me not of what I would see,
And my fear filled in the blank canvas of my unknowing.
I prepared myself for entering Hell itself,
Yet I came to a blinding light.
And in the midst of this illumine,
I heard the contented chatter
Of a child.
I followed the babbling and shrieking giggles through the glowing
celestial mist.
My heart thudded with panic, for if this was the Devil's dwellings,
No child should be present here.
And there he was.
This child more beautiful than any one could imagine.
Sat crossed legged, surrounded by white fire, he clapped and laughed,
Unaware at first of my presence.
In his chubby fingers he grasped star dust,
Throwing it into the air in playful delight, before gathering it
up again.
He squealed as he looked up,
And on locking eyes I felt electric currents rush through my being
His eyes were a colour no mortal could describe,
But you could easily lose your mind and soul,
Gladly so,
Just to look upon such a colour again.
He laughed at my unease and slapped the ground.
"Play!" He squealed again.
I walked cautiously forward, and then kneeled down to be level with
him.
His voice was a child's, undeniably, but it sounded like music,
A thousand voices.
"What is your name, child?"
"Lu-ci-ferrr" he replied, returning to his game.
"Impossible!" I cried, alarmed at one so young knowing
such a name
"Im-posss-bel" He repeated in childish mocking.
I realised that to learn the truth,
I would have to communicate to this celestial being
In terms he would understand.
"And what is this that you play with?"
I asked him.
"Free will" he replied calmly.
"Wow that sounds like a fun game.
And who gave you such a gift?"
"Daddy."
My blood ran cold and I struggled to keep from crying.
I realised that time does not exist in this
Realm,
And I had just walked into the Childhood of the Damned.
But I couldn't leave him.
And we stayed and sang together,
And he showed me his many sets of wings,
Feathered, butterflied, dragonflied and bat-like.
He told me that his name meant 'Angel of Light'
And I told him that it was a pretty name, and how clever he was
for
knowing so.
He told me the names of the moons above us.
He told me of the other Angels,
And that when he grew, he would be a leader of his father's soldiers.
I cried and nodded, forcing a smile.
He asked me why I cried,
And if it was because I didn't like soldiers.
I told him no, and that it was because I was tired, and had to be
leaving.
Becoming distressed at this,
He begged me to stay a little longer.
He rested his heavy little head on my lap, and I sung to him, caressing
his
Silky golden hair.
The Hanged Man What are the meanings of such incredible dreams?
Visual messages channelled to mind
I'd limit myself to book interpretations
If only such answers were easy to find
Who are you, inner voice?
And why do you seek
To send me the visions of lifetimes ago
For settled are you as soon as I heed,
Yet fearful am I of the symbolic foe.
They're born from my instinct,
Then played in my mind
While troubled and restless I turn in my sleep
Events of the present, future and past
Awaken this traveller with the secrets they weep
Hanged man, first by the foot
As dazzled you watch the world upside down
Then I as the boy child hung by the neck
Can see the world starkly in hideous gowN
The Fool I started my journey bright-eyed and with all
the foolishness of youth
I thought too much and too little
But never carefully.
I wore armour with an exposed neck
I was wrong to assume people don't go for the neck
They do, and they feast on it
Draining your time, energy and good intentions.
I was young when I met the first.
She was a child demon, pregnant with sorrow.
She gave birth to a ferocious me.
With the knives in her belt she carved at my gentle spirit
Until it lay in ribbons at my feet.
She adorned her hair with my ribbons,
Smiled and abandoned what was left of me.
She has some bones of mine I'd really like returned.
They're in the dirt.
I walked under a heavy shield form
then on.
I hid beneath the heavy blows from over head,
And escaped into the night.
There he was, a young man,
Who awakened in me emotions I never knew existed.
He was the second, but became my first confident,
And unbeknown to him, my love.
I felt the searing heat of infatuation.
It was in these thoughts of him that I became accustomed
To the limbo of fantasies,
And the death of my child self.
I longed to be like him, so I walked on.
I grew tired of youthful musings
And of the hunger and dependence,
So I surrendered to the education and the ways of the world.
I enjoyed the merriment,
Discovered liquor,
And its seductive effect on my rebellious soul.
I thought myself invincible, and wonderfully strong.
I came to a young woman, fierce and heavy of build.
She was the third, so I challenged her to a dual,
And she won.
I felt her weight on my frame.
I lay on the stones as her punches rained hard on my lovely face.
My blood warming her hands.
The pain felt so good, we were supposed to meet.
But hell, I wasn't ready to die yet.
So I summoned my strength and sunk my fangs into her neck.
She tasted of victory so I spat her out.
Damn she had won this.
My pride was as mangled as my face.
I knew she had crossed my path to remind me of my limitations,
But fuck, did it have to hurt so bad?
I left a blood trail as I limped away.
I realised,
That to lose your illusions of grandeur is a bloody hard lesson.
I wasn't ready to continue on my path yet,
So I crawled into myself.
A blank flesh remained on the highway,
Expressionless, unfeeling, but safe.
I stayed in this flesh for many months.
An old friend crawled into me.
She was the fourth.
I was a cave by this point,
And I was many bats, fragmented and hanging.
And with my many eyes I watched her as she pleaded with my sanity.
She spoke of the world I had left behind,
How things had changed,
And that I was valued and missed.
It felt good to be loved,
Even better than the pain.
My face and spirit were healing,
So I regrouped and joined her.
We left my lonely shell and I carried on my path.
I came to a crypt
Thought I'd stay there a while.
It was here that I met the fifth.
He was a vampire with soulful eyes.
He was beautiful.
'You're beautiful,' I told him.
We hung together and laughed beneath the stars.
We were joined by the mind yet lost in the substances.
Our dreams in the night were to inform us of the end.
In a terrible collision, his teeth met my neck
His eyes paled in colour as he bled me dry,
And I seeped in the forest.
I had lowered my defences under the shade of his lashes,
As there was a tenderness in him, respect and intelligence.
But I had mistreated his patience, and now I lay bleeding in the
forest.
Angered by my cold-self,
He left me in exile.
We stood vacant and bleeding
Vultures circled overhead.
The blood of each other no longer sustained us
No comfort was found from the holes in our necks.
The blood on our hands burnt like acid in the sun.
The battle was as dead as the understanding we had once shared.
My anger left me with the rising of the sun
As my vampire collapsed into a pillar of salt.
I longed to follow as the grains danced among the morning breeze,
But my feet were frozen in shallow waters
At his request.
So I carried on my path.
I was battle-weary by this point.
I lay by the path side and closed my eyes.
I felt his eyes on me,
He was the sixth.
'I'll be the last if you'll allow me.' he said.
It was my soulmate, my other half.
He had been with me for sometime but I'd been blinded by the way
side.
He has kind eyes and a loving heart.
He takes my hand and walks beside me.
He knows of my journey,
He knows of my rage.
But still he walks
By my side
And that is where you'll find us now
Continuing the pilgrimage
Together.
'It’s not over yet, but I'll
join you if you'll let me.'
