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JACKODASIAL
bump say you
this night thorn burning
a fever rich
beneath the itch
how I want to tear it up
when the mercury climbs
the glass
and the buzz of insects in
the grass
slip and slide this turbid tide
jacked up on the brew
and the memory of the few
we aint gone looking
for what we threw to the
other side
no no
and this bone moon come
up to throw a callow light
no sleep be coming
on this forlorn night
just stirred with hungry lazing
ghosts
this refuge of a mind
like a one roomed mansion
in the state of time
like the heat of passion
and a worn dime
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north ontario
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Comments
Esker
Sat, 2012-07-14 23:30
Jackal
the great drive
guardian of the deep the dark
We have a Sharpai dog
a bitch and she looks like
a pit bull somewhat
shape of the muzzle
one of the original breeds of
early dog some say
fourth of the tree
not hard to squint at her body
her ways save the drawn in
ear flaps
now and see something
of the primeval in her
Egyptians the warring people
loved their animal totems like
the natives
recognized the jackal as night master
darkness dealer
Nutt was the birthplace of heavens
Jackaldasial should have been the title
author commentIan.T
Sun, 2012-07-15 02:54
Steve
At first look at your title I thought that Michael Jackson was going to be immortalised by our Poet but it turned out you backed away from him to the ancient Egyptians, much nicer warring people and they rarely sang lol
Loved the write Steve as one could bring in their own vision of many different things,
Yours Ian.T
Just a Bit of Background
Anubis depicted as Jackal like, was the god of embalming and the dead.
Since jackals were often seen in cemeteries, the ancient Egyptians believed that Anubis watched over the dead.
Anubis was the god who helped to embalm Osiris after he was killed by Seth. Thus, Anubis was the god who watched over the process of mummifying people when they died.
Priests often wore a mask of Anubis during mummification ceremonies.
Nut (With one "T")
Nut was the sky-goddess, whose body created a vault or canopy over the earth.
Nut was the sister/wife of Geb, the god of the earth. She was also the mother of Isis, Osiris, Nepthys and Seth.
The ancient Egyptians believed that at the end of the day, Nut swallowed the sun-god, Ra, and gave birth to him again the next morning.
.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..
Esker
Sun, 2012-07-15 23:34
thank you for the informative background
Life being so short Its not a wonder that different cultures put so much into the AFTER life
I remember first seeing pictures of Nut and Anubis in National Geographics and informative
CBC television and Ontario Broadcasting when we still have much Canadian content in
the early to mid seventies. The West Coast totem carvings are so very similar in stylized
form and the use of masks in ceremonies..
I found them then and still very beautiful. I made a few shakers for ceremonies for the
Ojibway and western dakota peoples and carved relief faces on the hollowed out cedar
shaker with handle Quite complex and yet easy peices that are still in use today I hope.
I believe in art as function
author commentjudyanne
Sun, 2012-07-15 08:13
as per usual - i love it esker
‘how I want to tear it up
when the mercury climbs
the glass
and the buzz of insects in
the grass …. slip and slide this turbid tide’
..... such visuals esker…
great rhyme throughout, and i really love the ending
poor jackals – they do have a primitive, almost evil, look about them
love judy
xxx
'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)
loved
Sun, 2012-07-15 13:51
dittos I’m going to...
dittos
I’m going to
ditto you Judy,
why you know,
as your critiques do glow
upon warm hearths of hearts
some brightness does blow
into kaleidoscopic rainbows
Oh! what the hell does Loved spell,
a link between those who know
with those who don't
well who are those?
a few Neos think alike
they strike
as all are poetic legends
may be of tomorrows
loved
Esker
Sun, 2012-07-15 23:44
Thank you Judy
scenes for emotive cascade
I dont have the expansive quick turning
mind like some of my friends to do large
theater sets...but I have seen some
amazing productions on the telly
Window displays too I enjoy
Mannequins are basically minatures
and I being an artist read a lot of
story art mags as a youth and then an
adult
The modern gaming provides a kind
of movement essence for this
other then playing with minatures
or puppets in a three dimensional
world of making It is still a make
believe realm of myth
The stories of my youth were illustrated
from the Bible we had to the childrens
books my parents and sisters read to
us Those images are mythical now
in memory and like our myth realms
today caught up in electronic media
one does not need a sandbox for
building doll worlds or minature cars
but Farmville and the like
with avatars and others to interact with
Wolves and Jackals are still quite existing
and wild
myths for scene making
the poetry art
for perusing
and ponder
author commentEsker
Sun, 2012-07-15 11:53
Exhibit of travelling
they had a stuffed one on display in the mall once
Here we have wolves in North America and Black Bears
large predators that mostly stay to themselves for the
most part. The blacks are intelligent and apt with their
paws and strength in procuring food.
But jackals are something entirely different
They are very large and very aggressive looking
Its not hard to see why the Egyptians admired them
Thank You
author commentBlueDemon77
Sun, 2012-07-15 23:47
Well done Esker!
I do see the scheme of loose internal and end rhymes starting to appear in your work. Wesley will be overjoyed when he returns! As for the poem, it's artistry, the images are crisp, vivid, and somewhat macabre. I don't think there is anything you can't write at this point. I look forward to your work.
Thanks for another gem!
Ron
Blue Demon77
Blue Demon77
"What I want is to be what I was before the knife,
before the brooch pin, before the salve, fixed me in this parenthesis:
Horses fluent in the wind. A place, a time gone out of mind."
The Eye Mote-Sylvia Plath