More Than A Few

                                                 To be continued....

                                                                                           February 2019

High Priestess: Artwork by AlexRa NYC 1974


Keeper of the Sacred Flame



Origin tales and myths speak of a High Priestess, who emerged from a formless void followed by chaos -- asleep, but awake.



With reverence for sacrifice, charity and austerity and having been anointed with sanctified oil, she renounced the nectar of sensual pleasure. Imbued with the quintessence of celestial deities, she possessed the skill to foreshadow the future. 



Moreover, having  discarded irrational, baseless, worthless knowledge, she became irreproachable and thereby delivered from the thralldom of anger and cruelty.



Conscious that the longest journey is from the mind to the heart, she was and is forever, the Keeper of the Sacred Flame.





 ***



"A Complete Unknown"




factor in our favorite favors,  my friend


and never again have to say "I wish."


forget fractured, fragmented forces --


they'll only recollect how hope entertained,


composed the mind and reeled in our hearts.


before long, hurricane Michael wreaked havoc,


 shredding nearly all -- along with our proverbial gate,


 evoking how disarmed we were by fate.






 ***
 



More Than a Few




leaning into the darkness

weakness dictates and the last straw awaits.


thousands of tasks exemplified usefulness --

a testament of a purposeful life.


finding success huddled with barren attempts

personifies more than a few.


fleeing from concepts and deeds

 torment leaps from the fray seeking -- what?


a bridge that consents the reward of bright fortune --

of finding you again on the other side.

    
*** 




The Abundance of a Fine Spun Fate



You thanked your God given talent, your stamina and your worldwide admirers, as your unnerving victory fought with laurel's rest, but habit, success and a search for old bones prevailed.



You trimmed your sails to the wind and survived amidst temerity and ubiquitous, nefarious company  -- culpable and  implacable. You set the cat among the pigeons and reminded them a fattening hog is hardly ever fortunate. 


As time marked the long ride, we were custom made for each other to know.  Our  indisputable connection, an undefeated garrison, in which few could intrude -- even those transcendentally gifted, or lucky riding your coattails in their random universe.



But between the window you came in and the door you always left through,

talking as if it was fear alone that steered you, you were shackled by power and distrust, destined to believe there was too much to do and too many goals to conquer.



You wanted no brief sensation as your destination and now fenced by ambivalence, words are as if jettisoned -- some by a surfeit of razor-sharp originality, others submerged by a veneer of borrowed options.

Why did I wring my hands in defeat, when that life long time comrade of mine valued me -- the very thing I dreamt to achieve when I first felt summoned by your John Wesley Harding album and then with Nashville Skyline had to start learning love wasn't child's play? And you, decades later, your accomplished self was yet further honored -- receiving the highest mark of respect from the most elite  establishment -- beyond even your imagining.

Considering the source, celebration is appropriate, but hope took forever to die, it seems.  Unceasing loneliness brazenly hectors, recalling how once I was desired.  A virtual recluse for twenty celibate years -- longer than I thought possible -- and my life, by all appearances, inconsequential. Chastisement for the sins of my youth or reprieve from the tumultuous tangle of liaisons?

It is perhaps fitting that those who successfully set out to seduce, in the search for love, may in turn need to accept the consequences of being seduced. 


Behold the irony, but how can it all matter now?


For us, rapprochement and triumph over recriminations was just about  insurmountable. What terrible chances we took alienating affections. What poetic justice reeks of balance, when one gets more than one ever expected and still...



 "Take a tip from one whose tried." 



Like a whippoorwill you came, singing your songs, seeing and being seen and keeping me with you.



Like a wraith I turned to follow the allure of change and transformation.


Our fine spun fate, volatile and capricious, morphed into opaque, glazed recollections.  However, evidently belated and benighted gratitude inevitably always again suggested renewal.

Our journey -- a pastiche noble and impeachable.  Loyalty, sacrifice and humility powered our endeavor, interspersed and influenced by reprehensible obsequious charades.



A disconsolate cortege passed, its participants burdened by lassitude. Ineffably the woods shared in silence.



Aspiration prevailed over knowledge, unleashed and flagrant with abandon... incandescent but humbled as rebellion is chastised.



We rampaged through life as if eternity were assured and succumbed to our time on earth, secure within the intention to cherish and hold fast to mutual esteem.



Soaring, prismatic, laconic, erudite, exuberant, irascible -- you, d.m. inspired and empowered more than you'll ever know.




***
Queen of Swords

aka Hazel Brock, Peggy Day, et al
née: Alexandra Stephania Haberl-Heidenreich (former Lukas divorced 1965 -- son: Everett Lukas, grandson: Evan Lukas)  Dallas - divorced 1998)
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                                                                       March 23 2019



"And I am that which is attained at the end of desire."


"Her distance was the whip that drove my longing."



_____________________________________

                                                                     April 22. 2019


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EVGU-McTUtU
When the Ship Comes In - Bob Dylan



                                                               May 5, 2019


Chimes of Freedom


The Ballad of Frankie Lee & Judas Priest


I Threw It All Away


Born in Time


Shooting Star


Never Gonna Be the Same Again


Oh Sister


'Til I Fell in Love with You


Ain't Talkin'


Is Your Love in Vain?


Everything Is Broken


Too Much of Nothing


Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again


Spirit on the Water

A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall
Beyond Here Lies Nothin'
With God on Our Side
Not Dark Yet
Señor
See that My Grave is Kept Clean

 Bob Dylan


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                                                 June 3, 2010





I Want You - B. Dylan




Life Is Hard - Bob Dylan


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ex05XUddWMk



Bob Dylan


                                                                                        

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