16/17 Degrees of Fire: The Alchemist

http://www.obsidianportal.com/campaigns/lasanir/characters/mardak-the-alchemist

 16/17 Degrees of Fire: the Alchemist

When did I become a mad achemist?

I have never been to a physics class,

But I know the formula of celestial bodies

In motion. 

The weight x gravity x space = perfection

I am sure I am not the only self-made physicist

 Who Twists and manipulates the experiment

Scientific method is child’s play when

I go to the lab and try to re-create

The condition of a time/space event

The enigmatic opposites collide

 

All of the sudden weight is the

Holy ground upon which I live,

Drink, believe, eat. 

obsessed with the scale, and I try to calculate

Each length, gram of flesh/spirit that

Takes up space. 

Except my specimen is

A gypsy out far away. 

I am mad with waiting…

My lab is a sad excuse for Life and mystery

But I will spend each tiny second scouring

The mathematical equations that consist of his weight. 

Do the numbers and formulas really match the true weight of a person?

Was it just the weight above me, the movement that ignited something lost.

Certain vibrations entering another vibration, a frequency shifted

Tainted by the opposite

Was there a chemical reaction?

Ah yes an explosion of time-past, present and future

Mutually arising

Einstein would have been proud

Relativity discovered for the millionth time

What elements were involved?

Water, iron, Earth, hydrogen, a plethora

Of substances that seep into our seemingly

Physical barrier, yet I feel the sand, water, night

Stars all on my skin, for I drank them in.

An aftermath of reaction

The taste of his energy is on my tongue.

Where did I write down the numbers?

The calculations of sparks, of fire.  How can I write when I am burning? 

 All chemists shiver with cold even

Though they surround themselves with fire. 

my arrogance is dangerous

I think I can do physics, chemistry and biology. 

Biology is secret side obsession.

Blood flows, fluids and the essence of each specimen

Calls me ever deeper into my madness .  I am an

Old alchemist, mad trying to light my own blood on fire,

I know it was on fire not long ago. 

The formula of his soul 
weight x space x depth is

Written on my lips. 

Wildly , I use myself in

The experiment

Exploding after a certain combination of movement,

Why does weight show up in every

Science?  

There is not enough mathematical

Calculations to measure the

Fire, the weight, the gravity,

The god, the love, the light,

The ash,

mystery is a mad scientist

too….

Weight x space, 
the molecules

That travel between us are

Different than the molecules

That vibrate inside

Time x space x illusion x subatomic particles = wickedness

Has any scientist ever tried to dissect time and annihilate it forever? 

Where is a warrior when you need one? 

An army of them do not understand that it is just another man made illusion.  Sometimes

Scientists are like animals running in their own circular cage. 

My lab is a grotto

Where time stops

Weight and gravity

Are my consorts,

And one body is god

I am the space, in which the god

Is known

I

Receive all the hunting,

all the weight,

the force

the emotion released

Because I am made for it

My DNA was constructed by

Some divine physicist, some grand

Experiment of opposites

I am a physicist seeking the weight of god

Weight x gravity x bodies x movement x illusion x perfect imperfection = love/life/fire

Kori 12/5/12

10 Degrees Of Fire: The Loss of Fire

http://www.angelfire.com/ny5/spiritsong/Raven.html

 10 Days of 42

10 Degrees of Fire

Is Death about the loss of fire?  

How can I wait 32 more days without?  

I did not utter the wicked words, the wicked truth

that there is another 42 days to come. 

there are 42 and 42 without fire.  

Imagine yourself without warmth, food...light

for fire use to be the center, the everything.  

Yet there is a strange mysterious ember that outwits 

time and space.  

Our true separation between us and the rest 

is about fire. 

Our ability to use fire to cook, to heat the house, 

to build a center, to surround the fire in song, in prayer, 

solitude, in ceremony, in sorrow, and in healing.  The fire 

that burns in the center represents the soul that shines 

in the center of our humanness.  How did we get fire?  

From the gods or the Raven? 

I miss the flame that holds the universe in a small 

glow in the dark.  I miss the cold darkness approaching, 

and the fire parring the endless emptiness that wants 

to devour our souls.  It is the fire that keeps us evolving, 

it pushes away that void, and reminds us of the heat, the immenseness of 

being.  We are the campfire, soft, quiet and full of flames ready 

to consume the all too encompassing night. 




The Raven

Long ago, near the beginning of the world. Gray Eagle was the guardian of the sun and moon and stars, of fresh water and fire. Gray Eagle hated people so much that he kept things hidden. People lived in darkness, without fire and without fresh water. ~~~ Gray Eagle had a beautiful daughter and Raven fell in love with her. At that time Raven was a handsome young man. He changed himself into a snow-white bird. And as a snow-white bird he pleased Gray Eagle's daughter. She invited him to her father's lodge. When Raven saw the sun and the moon and the stars and fresh water hanging on the sides of Eagle's lodge, he knew what he must do. He waited for his chance to seize them when no one was watching. He stole all of them and a brand of fire also. He flew out of the lodge through the smoke hole.
As soon as Raven was outside, he hung the sun up in the sky. It made so much light that he was able to fly far out to an island in the middle of the ocean. When the sun set, he fastened the moon up in the sky and hung the stars around in different places. By this new light he kept on flying, carrying with him fresh water and the brand of fire he had stolen.
He flew back over land. When he reached the right place, he dropped all the water he had stolen. It fell to the ground and there became the source of all fresh-water streams and lakes in the world.
Then Raven flew on, holding the fire brand in his bill. The smoke from the firebrand blew back over his white feathers and made them black. When his bill began to burn, he had to drop the firebrand. It struck the rocks and went into the rocks. That is why, if you strike two stones together, fire will drop out.
Raven's feather's never became white again after they were blackened by the smoke from the firebrand. That is why the Raven is now a black bird.

            http://www.angelfire.com/ny5/spiritsong/Raven.html

The Sea, Gypsy and 42 Degrees

I fear me this-is Loneliness- 
The Maker of the soul 
Its Caverns and its Corridors 
Illuminate-or seal- 

                                  -Emily Dickinson, 318

Pre-Degrees of Facts

The Jypsy is leaving tomorrow, or a day after.  For 42 days he will travel from California to China and back , porting in Japan and Korea along the way.  He is the first Engineer on a massive cargo ship that transports containers.  I am enamored by his intensity in this endeavor.  I did not really know or understand that modern American sailors travel long distances cut off from loved ones and the general world that is consuming the rest of us day in and day out.  

Since I am well studied in the stories and psychology of the hero's journey...it is hard for me not to examine closely this journey he is about to take.  We often think the modern world does not allow for the classical hero's path.  The kind that requires a separation, initiation and return.  

He separates from the consuming culture and plunges himself into the unknown.  This is literally true because he does not know the ship, crew and thus will self initiate himself in the first seven days of the journey.  He has no luxury of a ceremony or celebration on either side of his quest.  The quiet solitude of one man's energy rising against the machine.  This is the only truth.  





1 Degree of fire-passion-imagination musings

42 levels of leaving, 42 stages of letting go(a healthy dose of individual time-happy with myself moments-rather than obsessing about our situation) , 42 days of burning, keeping the fire lit.  

42 embers that burn quietly
in the vast space between us. 

42 nights of erotic desire paused like 
the best romance-adventure-mystery movie 
ever made.  

I have assured my muse that I have a good imagination.  

He has passed one threshold.  He has entered my Dream Time.  This is no small affair, as my dreams are equal to my waking. If we could only meet there within the 42 days.  Something to strive for.