Category Archives: poetry

Celebrating May with Poetry

Like many fiction writers, I dabble in poetry from time to time. I’m not afraid to send my poems out. Still, when one gets accepted, I am always a little surprised.

Eccentric Orbits

So I was more than a little surprised when not one, but three of my poems were recently published in Eccentric Orbits, Volume 2, An Anthology of Speculative Poetry. I did think those poems were pretty good, but since the anthology was described as for science fiction poetry, and these three all have mythic or metaphysical themes, I was delighted when the editor, Wendy Van Camp notified me that all three would be included.

Eccentric Orbits Vol 2

If you’d like to check out my three poems, along with works by 18 other poets from around the world, Eccentric Orbits 2 is available in print and ebook here.

The Lyric

Last month, after reading a book about quantum physics, I wrote a short poem based on an idea that popped into my head (like the collapse of a wave form, if you get my meaning).

Next thing I knew this poem had been accepted by The Lyric, “the Oldest Magazine in North America Dedicated to Traditional Poetry.” I had published a poem in The Lyric way back in 2008, but I was quite surprised they wanted this one. Especially because, unlike the three in Eccentric Orbits, this is rather a “science fiction” poem. It is called “Quantum Dream” and will be published in the Spring Issue. What a thrill.

The Lyric MagazineYou can check out The Lyric here.

A Poem for May

But enough about me. Happy May to all of you!

In keeping with the poetry spirit, here is one about Beltane, the traditional day of celebration at the First of May, written by a very wonderful author named Kathryn Hinds.

BELTANE

The birth night of the radiant brow,
of the golden-haired boy and
the miraculous colt, the gestation
of the cut grain complete—now is time
to light the hilltop fires that call
the sun to bless the blossoming land,
the fires that call back the lost
and wandering hearts, the fires
that halo lovers’ holy bowers.
We have such faith in the fire
of love to catch and spread and blaze
beauty around our Earth.

When morning comes,
dew-washed and garlanded, we feel
in our bones the fire-heated, sun-heated
seed crowning out of the soil
and we breathe and we cry out
“Unite!” for the newborn of the Mother
sustains us, as she does, as we—
in our love, in our dance—nurture
Earth and seed: the great returning.
We ribbon the Maypole to turn
the Wheel and ourselves become
the Earth-rooted, sky-rooted,
fire-reaching, sun-reaching, uniting Tree.
We have such faith in our love.

— From Candle, Thread, & Flute
Copyright 2013 by Kathryn Hinds.

Candle Thread & Flute

You can find Candle, Thread, & Flute, along with Kathryn’s other books, on Amazon.

And if that doesn’t get you ready for May, I don’t know what will.

The Mystical Themes of Groundhog Day

Happy February!

The start of this month is marked by many holidays and festivities, depending on what mythology you follow or what country and century you happen to live in.

In Canada and the United States, February 2nd is of course Groundhog Day . If that rodent in Pennsylvania comes out of his hole and sees his shadow, then it’s more Winter for you.

Themes of note: Emerging from the Underworld, seeing our shadows, projecting ahead.

Standing Groundhog
Standing Groundhog By Marumari at English Wikipedia – Transferred from en.wikipedia to Commons., CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1779877

Some Christian churches celebrate February 2nd as Candlemas (also known as the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus Christ and the Feast of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary.) The holy day is observed by blessing candles for the year ahead.

Themes: New light for the year ahead; purification.

Source: https://rorate-caeli.blogspot.com/2011/12/question-for-our-readers-rorate-masses.html

 

It is believed that the roots of both Groundhog Day and Candlemas go back to earlier times. Way earlier times.

Candlemas has been linked with Lupercalia, a festival of purification held in mid February in ancient Rome.  Lupercalia was also called dies Februatus, after the instruments of purification called februa, which gave February (Februarius) its name. The name Lupercalia, however, likely derives from lupus (wolf) and this suggests association with an even older festival celebrating wild creatures and the worship of nature gods.

Themes: purification, wild nature.

Bronze Wolf's Head
Bronze wolf’s head, 1st century AD. Source; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lupercalia

 

In Celtic countries, meanwhile, February 1st is celebrated as St. Brighid’s Day, which derives from an older pagan holiday known as Imbolc.  This holiday (located midway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox) celebrates the return of the sun with the lengthening of days. The name Imbolc may derive either from “ewes’ milk” or “budding.”

Imbolc is strongly associated with St. Brighid, as it was with her earlier incarnation as a Gaelic Goddess of the same name. To quote the Wikipedia article:

“On Imbolc Eve, Brigid was said to visit virtuous households and bless the inhabitants. As Brigid represented the light half of the year, and the power that will bring people from the dark season of winter into spring, her presence was very important at this time of year.”

Brigid’s Crosses, woven of grass or rushes, were hung over the door to welcome the goddess.

Brighids Cross. By Culnacreann – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3500722

Themes: Spring, light returning from the darkness.

Imbolc is also a sacred holiday in some neopagan traditions. The coming of Spring is seen as the awakening of the Earth, the Great Goddess. Like Brigid, she comes bringing the light. Like the groundhog, she emerges from her sleep in the Underworld.

To summarize the many threads, we have traditions associated with light for the year ahead, purification, reawakening, rebirth.

On a personal level, of course, none of these come without struggle. These are all good ideas to contemplate, as we reflect on the year past and envision the year ahead.

With some of this in mind, I wrote this little poem about the holiday a while back.

Brighid’s Day

Bloody footprints mar the snow,
A crust of fragile glass on the river.
But the sun is lamping our way again;
Milk for the lambs is quickening.

She appears every year around this time
From somewhere in the forest.
Some say there’s a cave at the base of the mountain,
But no one’s ever found it.

Her red hair hangs wild from too much sleep,
Her eyes half-shut, her cheeks silver.
But she’s a strong maiden, straight as a pine:
Her white cape lined in green.

Most who glimpse her through the twilight
Whirl and rush away in fear.
But if you stay and bow as she passes,
Your dreams will be more real this year.

************************************

 

Dionysus, Lord of Voices

When I first started writing the  Conjurer of Rhodes series , I renewed my acquaintance with the ancient Greek gods and goddesses. Early in the Conjurer books the protagonist Korax recklessly summons the god Dionysus to help him win a singing contest. This leads Korax to a world of trouble, and led me to research the god of wine and frenzy.

Dionysus 2. 0135: Roman copy of Greek original from 4C BC. Glyptothek, München. Source: : http://www.maicar.com/GML/Dionysus2.html
Origin Myth

Dionysus was the son of Zeus and a mortal princess, Semele. According to one version of the myth, the Goddess Hera, disguised as an old woman, paid a visit to Semele and convinced her to demand that her lover show himself in his true aspect. When Zeus swore an oath to give Semele anything she wished for, he was forced to comply. Unfortunately, mortals cannot gaze on the full glory of the gods, and poor Semele was incinerated.

Zeus rescued the unborn Dionysus and sewed the child into his thigh. Dionysus was born a few months later and is thus called “twice-born.” Oh, and no need to mourn for Semele. When Dionysus grew up, he took a journey to the Underworld, rescued the shade of his mother, and brought her to Olympus.

The Festival of Dionysis

The fact that Dionysus was incubated close to the generative organs of the King of the Gods doubtless reflects his later association with fertility and the generation of life. The Athenians celebrated his festival in the Spring, to mark the end of winter and the harvesting of new crops. This Great Dionysia was a time of singing, dancing, and theater, and Dionysus was considered the god of plays and players.

The Frenzy of the Bacchae

The most famous appearance of Dionysus in Greek literature is, of course, in Euripides’ The Bacchae.

In mythology the Bacchae, or maenads, were female worshippers of Dinoysus who followed the god through the hills, intoxicated and ecstatic.

But it wasn’t only the wine. According to scholar Walter Burkert (Greek Religion, English Translation 1985 by Harvard University Press, page 161):

“Intoxication as a change in consciousness is interpreted as the irruption of something divine … Everyone who surrenders to this god must risk abandoning his everyday identity and becoming mad; this is both divine and wholesome.”

The Fate of Pentheus

In Euripides’ play, the rulers of Thebes are not so welcoming to this divine madness. Pentheus the king outlaws the worship of Dionysius and actually imprisons the god, whom he takes for a mortal acolyte.

Angered, Dionysus inspires Pentheus’ mother and aunts to rush off to the mountains and join the Bacchic rites. He then lures Pentheus out to spy on the women. The maenads discover the king and tear him limb from limb. (A clear lesson, I must say, to those who would scorn either the gods or the power of women.)

Pentheus torn apart by Ino and Agave, lekanis lid, ca. 450-450 BC, Louvre. Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pentheus
A Hymn to Dionysus

The following poem recounts the story of Dionysus and sees a glimmer of relevance to our own times.

Dionysus, Lord of Voices

Appearing in the city street,
Ivy-crowned and panther-coated,
Speaking many tongues together,
Teacher of intoxication,
Herald of his own religion:
Honor and revere the god,
You poets of the sacred songs.

Born of mortal, Theban princess.
To gaze on god she insisted.
Zeus revealed himself in lightning,
Burned her flesh and bones to ashes.
Green vines sprang to shield the unborn
Child, sewn into the thigh of Zeus,
Carried to the sacred mountain,
Nursed by nymphs, nourished on honey–
Immortal child born of death.

Come of age, the god departed,
Journeyed through the lands of Asia,
Taught the Mysteries to mortals,
Conquered countries with his revels,
Spread the culture of the vine–
Sweet the pleasure of the dancing,
Whirling to the many voices,
Ecstasy of knowing god.

Only Thebes refused him worship:
Rulers adamant with power,
Arrogant and frozen-hearted.
So he lashed the town with madness,
Roused the women to rebellion,
Cast them roaming on the mountain,
Freed their willful hearts with shouting,
Till they tore their lords to pieces,
Prideful men disdaining god.

Now our nation too is frozen:
Princes gluttonous with power,
People circling dumb with fear.
Dionysus, Lord of Voices,
Will your call awake our cities?
Singer of the wild places:
Blessed are those who know your secrets;
Bereft are they who scorn the gods.

Satyr and Dionysus, Athenian red-figure kylix C5th B.C., Antikensammlung Berlin source https://www.theoi.com/Olympios/Dionysos.html

 

You can learn more about the Conjurer of Rhodes Books here or find Book 1 on Amazon.

Jack’s Crazy Writing Life, and the Goddess Hekate

While waiting for beta reader feedback on The Mazes of Magic (the first book in the brand new Conjurer of Rhodes series), I have been making a start on the next Abby Renshaw adventure. My initial plan was to write another novella, perhaps a bit longer than Ghosts of Tamgrove Hallbut still something that could be written quickly.

BUT … sometimes a writer’s plans go astray. Stories take on a life of their own. They grow into unruly children, though we love them for it all the more. The next Abby story (working title, The Secret of Lock Tower) wants to be longer, perhaps a full-length novel. It is growing in several directions at once.

One of those directions, I discovered last night, circles back to the Goddess Hekate.

As I wrote in a blog post in 2016, Hekate was the name given by Neoplatonist occult philosophers of antiquity to a female deity that they conceived of as seated at the portal between the “uncreated fire” and the manifest Universe. This figure was the inspiration for the “Goddess Who Shapes All Things” in Ghosts of Bliss Bayou.

Hecate Image
Goddess Image, possibly Hecate, from antique tile.

But Hekate, of course, appears much earlier in Greek mythology, and is also a Goddess figure honored today by neopagans worldwide. Those interested in learning about the many facets of this fascinating deity would enjoy the book Bearing Torches: A Devotional Anthology for Hekate published in 2009 by Bibliotheca Alexandrina.

I was honored to be included in that anthology under a pen name, Corbin. Here is the poem I contributed, which I will let speak for itself:

Hecate

She stands at the crossroads under the cowl
Of the sky with goblets in all her claws.
Wind flutters her cloak, obscuring the moon,
Revealing the Book of the Laws.

Ruby wine beckons but I dare not drink
In the night with her eyes like coins of gold
Watching and her silence as ominous
And deep as the sea is old.

O seedless vision, Daughter of the Gates
Of Time, is your offer enlightenment,
Your gift illumination or demise?
Which brings the best contentment?

Kind Dark Mother, I will decline all cups,
Slip away, head bowed as in reflection.
Let me walk a bit longer in the air,
Goddess, but which direction?

Copyright 2009 by Jack Massa. All rights reserved.

The Day of Thoth

While researching the Conjurer of Rhodes books, I read a lot to refresh and deepen my knowledge of the gods of ancient Greece and Egypt.

One of my favorite deities has always been the Egyptian Thoth, equated by the Greeks with Hermes. Thoth is the god of writing and magic, indeed of all the mental arts.

Thoth’s Egyptian name was Djehuty (or dhwty) meaning “He Who is Like the Ibis”  (1)  He is usually depicted in the form of a man with an Ibis head.

Source: https://www.bibliotecapleyades.net/thot/esp_thot_9.htm

According to some sources ( 2 and 3) August 29 is the first day of the month of Thoth. This time was associated with the annual flooding of the Nile, on which the Egyptians depended to make the land fertile.

Someone once pointed out to me that on our modern calendar August 29 is directly opposite in the wheel of the year to February 29, a day which only occurs every four years. This is an odd coincidence given another myth about Thoth. In this story, he established the 365-day solar calendar.

According to the myth, the year was originally only 360 days long, and Nut (the goddess of the sky) was sterile and unable to bear children. Thoth gambled with the Moon for 1/72nd of its light and won five days to add to the year (360/72 = 5).  During these five days, Nut gave birth to the next generation of gods.

Depiction of the Goddess Nut holding up the sky. Source : http://www.experience-ancient-egypt.com/egyptian-religion-mythology/ancient-egyptian-mythology/egyptian-creation-myth

Egyptian mythology has several creation myths. This seems to relate to the fact that the priesthoods in different major cities proclaimed their god as the creator. In Hermopolis, Thoth was the chief deity and the story was that he created the world by uttering a single word. Some sources say this was a primal vibration, others that it was a song.  Still others claim it was the name of the primordial water goddess, Nun.

In other stories, Thoth is credited with helping steer the boat of Ra, the sun god, with helping Isis in her quest to resurrect her husband Osiris, and with assisting Horus in his battle with the evil god Set.

Thoth is also featured in the scroll known as The Papyrus of Ani, (aka, The Egyptian Book of the Dead). In the scene where the soul of the deceased is weighed by Anubis, Thoth writes down the result.

Source: http://slideplayer.com/slide/4362462/

Taking all of this into account, I wrote a little ditty in appreciation of Thoth. A hip hop meter seemed appropriate.

Hip Hop Thoth

At Hermopolis town, on the Nile
They’d say Thoth made the world (with a smile)
Spoke one word with his Ibis tongue
And the world spilled out all fresh and young.

Many tough ages have come and gone,
But Thoth still sings his ibis song.
Hanging in the swamp, dressed like a bird:
At night he whispers the magic word.

Older than the Moon and older than the Sun,
He’s the bird with the word and the word is “Nun.”

When Ra sails the sky, Thoth steers his boat;
When Horus fights Set, Thoth holds his coat;
When you die Anubis may weigh your soul,
But it’s Thoth who writes it all down on his scroll.

Now Thoth played dice with the Moon and he won,
And Thoth taught Isis how to con the Sun,
And when this world at last spills to its end,
Thoth might just say “Nun” again.

Older than the Moon and older than the Sun,
He’s the bird with the word and the word is “Nun.”

You can learn more about the Conjurer of Rhodes series here. Or check out the first book on Amazon.

Sonnet for Aphrodite

In celebration of Valentine’s Day…

Aphrodite
Conceived in wind and foam and born in Spring,
O lovely, tempting Goddess of the wave,
What cunning pleasures, what sweet pains you bring,
How perfectly you crush the dreams you gave.
Since long ago you touched the shore in Cyprus,
Trailing salt and flame from the hissing sea,
Mortals have chased you, desperate for bliss,
Enslaved each other while longing to be free.
Leaving all, like broken shells in sand,
You pass mildly on, blithely out of reach;
Not passion but compassion you demand,
Our hearts divine and perfect Love to teach–
That Love that changes death to life again,
Makes atoms dance and galaxies to spin.

Detail from The Birth of Venus by Botticelli

 

 

Herne at Yule

Now it is Yule Time. The Solstice is just past, the light starting to grow again, and Herne the Hunter is stirring in the depths of the forest.

Herne is mentioned in Shakespeare’s Merry Wives of Windsor as a local ghost who haunts Windsor Wood. But Margaret Murray, in her 1931 book God of the Witches, posits that Herne is a manifestation of a much older being, Cernunnos, the Celtic horned god. (For more on this, see here).

Source///http://www.houseofwinterspells.com/1675/attributes-of-the-horned-god-during-the-dark-night-of-the-soul/

Herne/Cernunnos is the God of Nature, Lord of the Forest and of wild creatures. Because it is Nature that feeds us, he is the provider of food and therefore of life. I think of him as the embodiment of Desire with a capital D—the fire in the belly that drives us all to live.

Herne
The spirit worlds are deep and high,
In firelight and smoky air,
In sparkling stream and cave and sky,
And Herne is there.

The forest seethes in emerald light,
In tusk of boar and snout of deer;
A shaman dances in the night,
And Herne is near.

And cities race on wheels and fumes,
Computer screens where data burns,
Workers scurry through the rooms:
So many Hernes.

The human world leafs from the Tree
Because we hunters chase and yearn;
Our hunger makes the world to be,
And so lives Herne.

Happy Yule to you all, and good hunting!

Prometheus, the Pain of Forethought, and the Peace of Wild Things

This poem by Wendell Berry showed up as a meme online and got me thinking…

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
And I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come in to the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Beautiful poem, but the line that struck me was about how wild things do not “tax their lives with forethought.” Only humans do that.

Then I remembered the myth of Prometheus, and that his name means “forethought.”  In the myth, of course, the Titan Prometheus steals fire from the gods and gives it to humans. As punishment, Prometheus is chained forever to a rock and each day an eagle comes and eats out his liver.

Prometheus depicted in a sculpture by Nicolas-Sébastien Adam, 1762 (Louvre) - Source, Wikipedia
Prometheus depicted in a sculpture by Nicolas-Sébastien Adam, 1762 (Louvre) – Source, Wikipedia

But the fact that his name means Forethought made me wonder. What if the “fire” that Prometheus really stole from the gods and gave to us is exactly what his name says? Forethought—the capacity to think ahead and imagine what may be next. That’s what sets us apart from the wild creatures and makes us like the gods. And it’s what causes us to wake up in fear of ‘what our lives and our children’s lives may be.’ Or, you might say, causes that eagle to keep coming back and eating out our livers (or our hearts).

These days many of us are living in fear of the future: political insanity, climate change, disasters around every corner. Many are eating their hearts out.

That’s forethought, I’m afraid. Part of what makes us human.

Blame Prometheus.

And maybe, like Berry’s narrator, seek out the presence of the still waters. And remember that, though you can’t see them at the moment, the stars are waiting with their light.

 

Honoring the Patron of Writers

As I start this author’s blog, I am reminded that it is always wise to propitiate the gods and give thanks to the divine spirits.

Here is a little poem I wrote a few years back in honor of the god of communication and commerce.

Thanking Hermes

I’d like to thank him for the thought
Except he’s gone and never caught.
The curve of sky, the open road
The long haul trucker with his load
The camera phone, the meme, the vid
The stock exchange, electric grid
Liquid crystal, Web Two O
Slick as rain, bright as snow.
No scripture ever so profound
Winged feet never touch the ground
Quick as hawk, keen as spice
He guides the tumble of the dice
Place your bets, he is your friend
Who’ll stop for you at the end.

– Rev Aug 14, 2010

hermesmosaic