|
|
|
The Rainbow For My Sky
Written: 10 February, 2005
the world was dark
no spark of light
rain was falling
in steady sheets with
weight of sleet
streams collected
on the streets
and spilled
upon the soles
of my worn-out shoes
a story
I'd heard
once upon a time
reminded me
that rain
was the cleansing
tears of the gods
but this downpour
so intense
I wondered
what they
were to cleanse
I felt it
meant to
wash me away
tears from the sky
from my eyes
moist droplets
like a heavy
morning dew
upon my lashes
I blinked
my vision blurred
it didn't matter
there was nothing
to discern
however
as the sky wept
a warmth crept
slowly
turning an
ebony canvas
to a velvet purple
a velour blue
next hues
of orange
red and yellow
what a glow
a fire burned
in the east
still the rain fell
but it slackened
lacking quite
the strength it had
in blackness
and I drank it
the taste was refreshing
almost pleasant
as the sunlight
came upon me
embracing me in warmth
it dawned
a new day
still it rained
but through the tears
and dew and droplets
gods and mortals
caught a glimpse
the rising sun
the falling rain
the rainbow
a soft brushstroke
in each colour
the watermark
in the sky
perhaps a signature
on a paradox
of the creation
dear sun
my love
keep shining
through my rainclouds
our profound
stripes of colour
across the boundless sky
inside our minds
make us gods
creators of the rainbow
#88
Copyright Avens "Dagny" O'Brien - Nightingale
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
Virus
Written: 7 January, 2005
my laughter is
infectious
contagious
it spreads airbourne
and tickles in your side
you spend some time
with me and find
yourself feeling
happy
optimistic
hopeful
you'll be diagnosed
when you get
warm fuzzy feelings
inside
I'm like a drug
you took it once
and the effects hit
full-force
your eyes see differently
and the days are
somehow
clearer than before
life's worth living
each thought of me
brings renewed
anticipation
and you wonder
how it's possible
not to feel this good
you do things
you never
thought you could
say things you
never thought you would
dream about
a future
you didn't think you had
and stepping up
waiting for the opportunity
to get your next fix
your next chance
you've felt love before
I'm sure
but never did you think
you'd meet a girl like me
I am love personified
so devoted
not just to you
but everything
loving
everyone
but somehow
right now
I'm focused on you
you know you feel this
you're even beginning to admit it
I know it
because
I can see it in the way
you spoke to me
you looked at me
you considered me
like you've never done before
but I am just
a virus
in your bloodstream
making my way into your heart
#85
Copyright Avens "Dagny" O'Brien - Nightingale
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
The Children
Written: 26 November, 2004
two bodies
one male one female
he older and spent
experienced and cynical
she younger and bright
unconditionally loving and curious
she rolled over in bed
looked at him with bright eyes
he watched her move
felt her trace his face
with her warm fingers
she smiled at him
"see the stars outside your window?
I want to connect them like dots
to see what picture they reveal"
she said whimsically
and he raised an eyebrow
kissed her forehead
and muttered
"you say the silliest things
you're like a child"
"we're all children"
she laughed
"compared to...?"
he asked skeptically
"the world
the sky
the trees
the mountains
everything"
she listed them off
saying each one with
a dramatic hand gesture
"and who are our parents?"
he asked
"the oceans birthed the land
upon the land there grew plants
from the plants the petals opened up
and people came into this world"
"so who are our parents?"
he asked again
"the high ones"
she answered
"who?"
he questioned
"they lived here long before us
before anything was here
they attended to divine matters
and philosophized
until one day they realized
they were lonely
and they cried.
from their tears the oceans formed
and the water churned and mixed
all the influences
of each god or goddesses'
unique gift.
the water didn't settle
rather it ebbed and flowed
created tides
and then land began to appear"
she explained
"you're making that up as you go along"
he accused
"isn't everybody?"
she laughed
he became quiet
and watched the stars outside his window
twinkle brightly
"what do you see?"
she asked quietly
"the blueprints of this world"
he said, finally
kissing her forehead again
and they curled up together
thinking about the world
#84
Copyright Avens "Dagny" O'Brien - Nightingale
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
Pretty Bird
Written: 25 November, 2004
the cool breeze
flutters my feathers
the whole world
spins under my feet
I'll fly higher
than the heavens
and watch this realm
change around me
they called me a pretty bird
they called me a pretty bird
I composed
a sweet lullaby for you
knowing that it
might never be heard
I sang louder
than the howling wind
despite knowing that silence
might be preferred
they called me a pretty bird
they called me a pretty bird
from up on my perch
I've witnessed atrocities
cried tears that fell like rain
on the people below
from here in my nest
I saw hopelessness and fear
and had only my song
to put on for the show
they called me a pretty bird
they called me a pretty bird
exit stage left
stripped of my wings
I gave it my best
like how the caged bird sings
I tasted the sky
and felt my feathers give in
I know I'm a pretty bird
I know I'm a pretty bird
#83
Copyright Avens "Dagny" O'Brien - Nightingale
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
Dumbstruck
Written: 14 July, 2004
I called you from a payphone
so your caller ID wouldn't know it was me
I hoped that you wouldn't be home
so I could leave a message after the beep
I dialed three digits
paused, then hung up
practiced what I'd say after the tone
but when all seven were dialed
two rings then "hello?"
my breath caught - I couldn't make a sound
no matter how many times
I see your face in the pictures
or hear your voice in recordings
from the music you make
I can't stop my heart from pounding
when I catch you real-time
and I lose all sense
of what to say
I try to think quick
but I've lost all my wit
and my moves become clumsy and numb
butterflies in my stomach
frog in my throat
ultimately, I've been struck dumb
damn you
#78
Copyright Avens "Dagny" O'Brien - Nightingale
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
Resigned
Written: 13 April, 2004
Once upon a time I wrote good poetry
that time is gone
the magic's left my fingertips
my paint's dried up
pen's out of ink
I'm left here
with empty words
that echo painfully
while I try to tune them
nothing sounding right
Once upon a time I felt something
and it's returned
making it ever so hard
to sit still and write
to express feelings
I'd rather be out experiencing
I've caught up with the future
within all my planning
I never prepared to actually do anything
and now I'm caught in a whirlwind
spin spin spin
Once upon a time I dreamed
and now I do instead
and damn it scares me
#77
Copyright Avens "Dagny" O'Brien - Nightingale
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
Saturday, February 7th, 2004
|
|
|
Fighting For/Until the End
Written: 2 February, 2003
Tracing the shadows
on the walls
watching them dance
in the flickering
candlelight
careless and thoughtless
to anything around
but their end will come
when I extinguish the light
My end will come
surely as the shadows that
I feed and kill
and maybe somebody else
will be responsible
but frankly I don't care
Like a moth drawn to the flame
some decide to embrace their demise
and others they live to escape
and hope to outrun the end a few times
Why bother building
if it all comes crashing down?
Why bother trying
when you know you'll lose
the final fight?
Some of us just hope
that it's not the end this time.
And some of us realize that
to live is to fight that fight.
So to live or to die
it's your right to decide
how you'll spend your time
and when the end comes
will you fight?
#70
Copyright Avens "Dagny" Nibhriain -Nightingale
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
With the Sunrise (Hope is Born Again)
Written: 18 December, 2003
The light was fading fast
and finally the sun set
as our hearts concluded
that they could
live without one another
So darkness crept into my soul
and left me feeling cold and lonely
Despite the sunset:
I'll never stop loving you
But in the night the clouds dispersed
to reveal the stars and
I wished upon a hundred or so
hoping, dreaming, seeking
a new day.
First light was spotted in the east
and a hint of red and orange
begins to climb into the sky
lighting a new path
revealing people who still care
and seek a chance to let
their heart and mine beat in unison.
Sunlight has born my hopes
into a new appreciation
of love and life and dreams
Good morning sunshine
embrace me in all your light and glory
#66
Copyright Avens "Dagny" Nibhriain -Nightingale
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
Tuesday, December 16th, 2003
|
|
|
Gay Marriage
Written: 1 December, 2003
“Marriage is a sacred institution, and its protection is essential to the continued strength of our society. Marriage Protection Week provides an opportunity to focus our efforts on preserving the sanctity of marriage and on building strong and healthy marriages in America.” President Bush began his statement on the sanctity of marriage, “Marriage is a union between a man and a woman, and my Administration is working to support the institution of marriage by helping couples build successful marriages and be good parents.”
Marriage, by standard definition, is a close unity of people or estates. There is a “marriage” of property when businesses combine, there is a “marriage” of families when two people marry in the eyes of the law or further still, their religious faith. Some cultures view marriage as purely for the purpose of creating families, other cultures see marriage as a way to gain substantial titles. In most Westernized countries, marriage is a union of two people, culturally defined as husband and wife, for the purpose of the benefits of legal marriage, including combined tax forms and special insurance policies.
Marriage, in American culture, tends to be a form of committed romantic relationship between a man and woman. This is slowly changing, however, as many homosexual couples have sought the legal benefits that marriage has to offer. Homosexuality is becoming more and more an accepted element of American culture, which creates problems among those religious opposed to such a lifestyle.
With a ruling by a Massachusetts court that the Constitution does not allow for the discrimination against homosexuals in the legal unity that is marriage, such an uproar of religious and political lobbying has made itself known to a point of chaos. The President himself (quoted above) is seeking a Constitutional amendment to define marriage as the unity of a man and woman. But the fact remains that such a definition is a religious one, and our government has pledged secularization, therefore such an amendment cannot be imposed without violating the first amendment.
Why are so many opposed to gay marriage? Religious reasons rank highest on the list. The argument I hear most often is that of a father who does not wish to raise his child in an environment where gay unions are seen as acceptable. Though I can see his reasoning, I ask him this:
“You’re a father, and you have a young son. He’s been brought up sheltered, having little or no knowledge of homosexuality. Any knowledge he does have on the subject is very negative, for you’ve brought him up to believe that such behaviour is against God. Your son grows up just like any other boy, playing with tow trucks, watching cartoons, is involved in sports, and once he reaches high school he suddenly becomes withdrawn and depressed.
You seek counseling for him, or try to figure out the issue yourself, and attribute it to the fact that he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Then you find out that he doesn’t want a girlfriend. You find out that he’s gay, and he’s been struggling with it since he was young. He likes boys. He’s a “faggot”. You didn’t do anything, he just ended up that way. Now, you personally feel that gay people should burn in hell for what they do. But, there remains the fact that he’s your son.”
After all, the majority of gay people in this world were brought up by straight parents. This is an issue of acceptance. Teaching your children to be closed-minded and hateful can teach them to hate themselves if they find the very things they were taught to hate inside themselves.
Many religions have issues against homosexuals. From complete intolerance to reluctant acceptance, many religions remain opposed to gays and their right to marry. But here’s a hint: nobody’s asking for churches to marry gay people. Churches are still considered privately “owned” and therefore they can turn away whomever they wish. The issue is the legal marriage. A legal marriage confronts issues likes taxes, insurance, spousal rights, adoption rights, and various other details which many consider to be important. A legal marriage has no religious significance, therefore any religious opposition is purely within the religious ceremonies that some consider of little value anyway. So, my apologies, Mr. Bush, but your “sacred institution” is constitutionally obliged to service gay couples.
Copyright Avens "Dagny" Nibhriain
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
Modern Druidism
Written: 15 December, 2003
Ta muid anseo na dheithe adhragh. “We are met to honour the Gods. Oh Gods, you who give life and breath and movement to everything that lives and breathes and moves upon the Earth. We greet you, we honour you, we invite you to this feast.”
My mother, a Druid High Priestess, begins every ritual in this manner. This is a Grove Meeting. The Grove is a group of people with Druidic beliefs; the Meeting is our gathering. A Grove Meeting consists of casual conversation, religious meditation, music, ritual, and feast. A typical ritual actually begins casually with a statement of the purpose of the celebration. There are four traditional Druid holidays: Imbolc, Beltaine, Lughnasdh, and Samhain. Imbolc is the festival of the Goddess Brighid, who is a healer, an inspiration of poetic creativity, and a smith, fashioning physical and magical weapons. “Imbolc” means “in the belly”, which pertains to the idea that during this celebration, young lambs are forming in the bellies of the ewes. This feast takes place in early February. Beltaine, which means “bright fire” is a fertility feast, which takes place in May and embodies the coming summer and the return of greens and planting and a fertile growing season. Lughnasdh is a feast and festival for the funeral assembly of Lugh’s foster mother. Lugh is a young hero god, and the god of storms. This festival takes place in the beginning of August, and includes games and such, as traditional for a Celtic funeral, and also incorporates the barley harvest with much bread and beer. Finally, Samhain is the Celtic New Year, celebrated in late October or early November, which celebrates summer’s end and the last harvest. This celebration usually calls for bonfires, for fire is a symbol of transformation, as the leaves have turned and fallen and the winter begins.
After stating the purpose of the meeting, we make invitations to our ritual and feast. The offerings are made to the Nature Spirits, the Ancestors, and the High Ones, usually in the form of bread, as a volunteer from the grove takes the offering and brings it outside the sacred space, speaking to the invited kindred assumed not present. Once they return to the circle, the next offering is made, until we’ve made all our invitations. This tends to be rather casual, and on more than one occasion we’ve gotten neighbourhood dogs or squirrels that have interrupted our ceremony to partake of our offering.
After all have been invited (and some have actually shown up) we give our praise. Many members speak of new jobs, developments in personal and professional life, obstacles they’ve overcome, and other things they’ve accomplished. This can be quite casual and has been, on occasion, in the form of poetry, music, or a reading from a book. After the praise has been given there is typically a reading and identifying of omens, through trance, meditation, fire scrying, runes or tarot (though tarot is not traditionally Druidic). These are not the only ways to read the omens, but some of the most commonly used.
Next comes the making of requests and the Cauldron of Intent. The small cauldron, filled with oats or barley, is passed counterclockwise along the circle, each participant taking a moment to make their requests (things they wish to be rid of in the coming time) either aloud or to themselves, stirring the cauldron with their hands for a few moments counterclockwise. Once the cauldron has gone around the circle, the Priestess takes it and throws the contents into the fire (in seasons when a fire is not practical or handy, these may just be spread over the surrounding grass). Then the cauldron is refilled with clean, fresh oats or barley, and passed around the circle clockwise. Now each participant takes a moment to make their requests for things they wish to have, receive, or hold during the coming months, for clockwise is the direction of closing, binding, and holding in. Once the cauldron has passed through all the intending hands, it is placed on the Priestess’ altar.
“What does the Earth Mother give that we may know of the continual flow and renewal of life?”
“The waters of life.”
“Whence do these waters flow?”
“From the bosom of the Earth Mother, the ever-changing all-Mother.”
“And has she given forth of her bounty?”
This is the Litany of the Waters taken from the Reformed Druids of North America. Several American Druid groups use this in their rituals, and the responses to the last question change depending on season. “She has” is the response given during Beltaine and Lughnasdh, when the seasons for growing and harvest are upon us. At Samhain and Imbolc, the response is “She has not, but thanks to the wisdom of the Ancestors we have stored up against need.” We then share the “waters of life” and sing an appropriate song, usually decided by the Priestess or the general mood of the Grove, either “Share the Waters“, “Fur and Feather”, “Hail All the Gods”, or “Mothers and Fathers of Old”. Occasionally we pass the water and other beverages (juice, whiskey, beer, mead) around more than once (especially if something is particularly good).
After the Litany of the Waters, the ritual proceeds depending of the occasion. At Imbolc most dedicate or rededicate themselves to the path of Druidism. At Beltaine the Maypole is usually raised, adorned with ribbons. Lughnasdh was always one of my favourite celebrations growing up because we played games to finish off ritual. I never understood how games fit in with the funeral assembly, but much like the idea of loud music and partying at a wake in honour of the dead, this was apparently the Celtic tradition. Samhain, which I favour above all the rest of the occasions, is where we take down the Maypole, cut it up, and use it as ritual firewood. Weather conditions permitting, we build a bonfire (a dry season may prevent that), which I’ve always enjoyed, being a fire maiden.
The minor celebrations of the year, which have very little accompanying practice within the ritual, are Mean Earrach: the Spring Equinox, Mean Samhradh: the Summer Solstice, Mean Foghamhar: Fall Equinox, and Mean Gheimhreidh: the Winter Solstice, know more commonly as “Yule” (Reformed 204).
Once we’ve finished whatever the occasion calls for, we feast, without ending ritual. Ritual doesn’t exactly end at all, it just sort of continues. The feasts call for food from the three realms: land, sea, and sky, and so we have things like chicken, turkey, duck or goose, salmon, and beef, pork, or lamb. The salmon is has an accompanying story, which my mother tells as we all sit to feast:
There was a young man, Fionn MacCumhail, who was apprenticing for an old Druid, Finegas. The Druid told Fionn of nine trees that grew hazelnuts of knowledge. Below these trees there were pools (or wells or streams, depending on which version of the story you are familiar with) with salmon in them. When the hazelnuts fell from the trees they dropped in the pool where the salmon ate them and became wise. The Druid intended to catch the largest salmon and eat of it to become wise. Fionn helped the Druid catch a salmon, and the Druid left Fionn to cook the salmon on the spit. At some point the salmon began to slide from the spit, and Fionn pushed it back up with his thumb. Then he licked his thumb and found himself wise. The Druid came back to find Fionn pondering this new wisdom and sent him off to found the Fianna. The Fianna were the warrior-band, which protects Ireland and enforces law and justice. The Fianna are actually a historically documented group whose training and principles are outlined in the O‘Curry manuscripts.
Looking back at legends one begins to wonder how modern Druids came to be as they are. American Druids, specifically, are so casual in their practice, gathered on cushions on a living room floor or in a suburban backyard. Other Druids practice in meadows, ancient dolmen sites, and/or forests, but how did modern Druidism develop to what it is now? I often wondered this, growing up, having images of robed priests and ancient languages dancing in my head as I looked at the laid-back average American Druids of today.
What do we know of Indo-European Paleo-paganism and the priestly castes, who may have been our spiritual ancestors? Mallory’s In Search of the Indo-Europeans gives theories about the ancient fore-bearers who spread their beliefs, practices, evolving languages, and people, across Europe. George Dumezil’s analysis of the three main functional divisions of people in Indo-European societies -protectors (warriors and kings), priests (sacrificers, mediators, interpreters of Divine Will, poets, and judges) and producers (the worker class)-is standard in Indo-European scholarship.
The cosmology of the Indo-European people seems to have included polytheism, a cycle of seasonal holidays (varying by local climate and growth cycles), with the end of the growing season rather than the planting seen as the beginning of the year (and dusk rather than dawn the beginning of the day), sacred trees, reciprocal relationships between nature spirits, ancestors, High Ones (gods), and living mortals, and patterns of death and rebirth, with a belief in reincarnation (MacCrossan 31-47). The Celts carried the magic, science, and religion of the Indo-Europeans to a high state of development, as did their distant relatives in India.
What do we know about the Druids of thousands of years ago? As Hutton points out in Pagan Religions of the Ancient British Isles, our knowledge is based on late Celtic manuscript materials (500 to 1200 Common Era), such as Audacht Morann, and conjectures of other ancient peoples, and modern “reconstruction” in religion.
Isaac Bonewits (whose personal website is www.neopagan.net), Archdruid Emeritus for Ar nDraiocht Fein, divides Druidry into Paleo-pagan (described above), Meso-pagan, Neo-pagan, and Celtic Reconstructionist. His 1974 essay, A Very Brief History of Mesopagan Druidism (re-edited in 2001), discusses the mythical/historical/inspirational development of the Meso-pagan Druid groups in England, some of which claim (without evidence) founding as early as 1245 c.e., but most of which are clearly part of “Celtic Revivals” from the 17th century on. Such groups were (and are) Masonic in structure, often with mixed Christian and pagan beliefs. Chosen Chief Philip Carr-Gomm (author of Elements of Druid Tradition and The Druid Way) of Order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids (OBOD) is in this line, as was his late mentor Ross Nichols (author of The Book of Druidry) of British Circle of the Universal Bond (of which statesman Sir Winston Churchill was an initiate).
The common threads in modern Meso-pagan Druid groups are: a heavily ceremonial ritual form, an emphasis on a noble Celtic past, and use of the Universal Druid Prayer:
“Grant, O God/dess, thy Protection
and in protection, Strength
and in strength, Understanding
and in understanding, Knowledge
and in knowledge, the Knowledge of Justice
and in the knowledge of justice, the Love of it
and in the love of it, the Love of all Existances
and in the love of all existences, the Love of God/dess and all Goodness” (Nichols 305)
The American Neo-pagan and Reconstructionist Druid Movements are generally agreed to have had their beginnings at Carleton College in 1963 (Hansen 19). The evolution of that group, Reformed Druids of North America (RDNA), and their influence on other groups, has been well chronicled in A Reformed Druid Anthology. From Carleton, initiates of RDNA moved on to found congregations in such places as Berkeley, California (where Isaac Bonewits was initiated in 1969), Winchester, New Hampshire, Edina, Minnesota, Kansas City, Kansas, and Seattle, Washington. There are a dozen or so active RDNA congregations today, perhaps another dozen New Reformed Druids of North America (NRDNA), and hundreds of locals congregations belonging to other groups which are results of schisms within American neo-pagan Druidism: Ar nDraiocht Fein (ADF), Keltria, Celtic Traditionalist Order of Druids, Druidic Association of North America (DANA), and others. Bonewits, Arch-Druid Emeritus for ADF, founded ADF to bring some sort of structure to neo-pagan and Druidic practice and study, but wished to remain open to interpretation, development, and individuality so he invited people who disagreed with his ideas to form their own groups, and many of them did.
A relatively new movement in modern Druidism in the US is the growth of Celtic Reconstructionalist groups. These include Ellen Evert Hopman’s Order of the White Oak, which emphasizes study of early Celtic law manuscripts, The Hedge School, founded by Erynn Rowan and Gordon Cooper in Seattle, and Nemeton, an online community of neo-Celtic scholars. There are Reconstructionalists within ADF and DANA, who speak, read, and write Celtic languages and study Celtic manuscripts (such as my mother).
Increasingly, formal training programs for Druid clergy have arisen, such as the study places of OBOD, ADF, and the Hedge. Druid priests are engaging in prison and hospital ministry in many areas of the US, with ADF’s Camille Grant well known for her work with death-row prisoners in Texas. Isaac Bonewits has been a presenter at the World Parliament of Religions. Local Druid clergy are active on interfaith boards and councils in such diverse places as Seattle and Vancouver, Kansas City, Dallas, and Baltimore.
Crossover groups that combine elements of Wicca, Druidry (usually Meso-pagan), Native American practices, and other American religious movements (such as Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints) also may call themselves Druids. The late Grandmaster Eli (Barney C. Taylor), founder of Druidic Craft of the Wise, was an excommunicated Mormon who claimed to have been a member of Eisenhower’s staff during World War II (according to Army historians, he was not), an initiate of British Circle of the Universal Bond (also untrue, according to their records), and an initiated Gardnerian Wicca (also untrue, according to their records), among many other things. His group, stressing personal allegiance to Eli, tithing, and Mormon cosmology, spawned dozens of congregations around the country, many of which were investigated by law enforcement for “marriage” of under-aged girls (Hansen, 111-114).
Divine Circle of the Sacred Grove, a Druidic Craft of the Wise offshoot founded by Lady Janette, a woman who has many names and a long police record, and who has variously claimed to be Grandmaster Eli’s daughter, wife, or former High Priestess, teaches a similar mish-mash of belief. The group has moved from place to place, often while under investigation by local law enforcement (Hansen, 105-109).
The New Forest Druids, founded by Douglas Monroe, a convicted pedophile, teach a mixture of Arthurian materials, Ceremonial Magic, and a “brotherhood” which excludes and avoids women, under the name of Druidry (“digital medievalist” Lisa Spangenberg, a PhD candidate in Celtic Studies, has an extensive discussion of Monroe on her web site).
So, what is Druidism today? Anyone can call themselves a Druid. Some cult-like groups use the name to encompass beliefs and practices, which may be outside of conventional morality and law, as many others have done under the title of Christianity. However, most modern Druids are serious parishioners of modern religions with ancient roots.
The beliefs of Druids vary from group to group, for Druidism is practiced openly and often incorporates the beliefs of many to suit a unified purpose. There are some Christians who call themselves Druids, but consider Druidism to be a philosophy. Many American Druids aren’t sure if Druidism is a religion or a philosophy. In my own Grove we have several people who consider themselves Druids, along with a few Wiccans, a few Christians, and a Jew. Open circles tend to be a part of Druidism, which is very inclusive.
One of the questions I’m asked most often, as a Druid is what I believe in. I spent time among Christians who were intrigued to see much of their “love thy neighbour” teachings in my own beliefs. I am polytheistic, I believe in many Gods; I have a patron Goddess, Brighid, who I’ve felt called to since I was quite young. I also believe in reincarnation; when I die I believe I am to return to “tir nan og”, or the land of youth where my spirit will rest with the High Ones until I am prepared to return to Earth. Most Druids believe in a variant of this, the most common version the “Summerlands”. I also believe that when I return to Earth, I could come back as anything, an animal or a human, and in that life I will collect knowledge and wisdom, which will collect in my spiritual self. As I go through lives and collect this knowledge and wisdom, I will some day reach a point of completeness, when I can return to the Gods and stay with them, living as a High One in the land of tir nan og. Perhaps one day I will come back to Earth and guide a follower of Druidism as a patron deity. I do not know if this is a common faith among most Druids (I suspect it is not) but it feels right to me and therefore, as a Druid, it is what I practice and hold as a belief. I rather enjoy Druidism’s inclusiveness.
Finally, I draw your attention back to the development of Druidism, as one can see it has developed and split and combined and grown. Like all religions, Druidism has rejected some of its own history (human sacrifices are not considered appropriate practice anymore), and we’ve learned much over the years, compromising our practices. Modern Druidism is an open, developing practice, faith, lifestyle, and/or philosophy based vaguely on some traditions of a time long gone. The number of people calling themselves Druids is growing, and perhaps someday we will be seen as an acceptable religion in mainstream society. But as Bonewits says, these things take time, but we press on, “fast as a speeding oak”.
Bibliography
Books:
Adler, Margot. Drawing Down The Moon. 1979. Boston: Beacon, 1986.
Carr-Gomm, Philip. The Druid Tradition. Rockport, MA: Element, Inc. 1993
---. The Druid Way. Rockport, MA: Element, Inc. 1993
Hansen, Daniel. American Druidism. Seattle, WA: Peanut Butter Publishing, 1995
Kelly, Fergus. A Guide to Early Irish Law. 1988. Dublin, Ireland: Mount Salus Press Ltd. 1991
MacCrossan, Tadhg. The Sacred Cauldron. St. Paul, MN: Llewellyn Publications, 1991.
Piggott, Stuart. The Druids. 1968. New York: Thames and Hudson Inc. 1985.
Nichols, Ross. The Book of Druidry. 1975. London, Eng.: Aquarian Press, 1991
Scharding, Michael, et al. A Reformed Druid Anthology. Minnesota, USA: Drynemeton Press, 1996.
Articles gathered from http://www.neopagan.net:
Bonewits, Isaac. “A Standard Liturgical Design for Neopagan Druidic Worship 3.2” 1983, 2003. http://www.neopagan.net/NeoDruidismRiteOutline.html
---. “A Very Brief History of Mesopagan Druidism 1.3” 1974, 2001. http://www.neopagan.net/MesoDruids.html
---. “The Reformed Druids of North America and Their Offshoots 2.1” 1996, 2001. http://www.neopagan.net/RDNA.html
---. “The Origins of Ar nDraiocht Fein” 1983, 2001. http://www.neopagan.net/OriginsADF.html
Maughan, Thomas. “The Druid Order 1.3” 197?. http://www.neopagan.net/Maughan.html
Meith, Vickie and Howard. “The Origins of the Celtic Traditionalist Order of Druids” 1999, 2001. http://www.neopagan.net/OriginsCTOD.html
Thuin, Dylan Ap. “The Origins of the Insular Order of Druids” 1999, 2001. http://www.neopagan.net/OriginsIOD.html
Copyright Avens "Dagny" Nibhriain
|
|
Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Sunday, December 14th, 2003
|
|
|
Rebel: With or Without A Cause
Written: 29 October, 2003
Rebellion is a common theme in society. Each generation seems more rebellious than the next, from being too commercial to shunning commercialization, from seeking independence to being an underachiever who lives with his parents until he’s thirty. From protests and riots to apathy, society changes, and rebellion is constant. The method of rebellion is rarely constant, however. Each generation makes a new system of rebellion more acceptable, therefore each generation pushes the bar a bit higher, how far can one go to alienate the generation before them?
Rebellion in the sixties was long hair, drugs, sex, and peace rallies that ended up being riots. My mother could tell stories about such days, spending her time listening to Simon and Garfunkel, attending local rallies, and experimenting with drugs and alternative lifestyle. She defied her Irish Catholic family by embracing a neo-pagan reformation of an old pagan religion, called Druidism. Most people enjoy rebellion from their teens to their mid-twenties. My mother isn’t the best example, seeing as she still supports drugs, folk music, peace rallies, and has become a Druid High Priestess. However, most people shed their long hair and folk-music, peace-rally tendencies and moved on to becoming “normal”, functioning, participating people in society.
Rebellion in the seventies was the British punk movement. The Sex Pistols has obscene lyrics and song titles, Sid Vicious and heroin, “disintegration of culture”, according to the prior generations. Rebellion in the eighties was drugs, sex, and rock ‘n’ roll. I think the two most relevant displays of rebellion are the music and the generation’s view of sex in these time periods. Music lyrics are getting more and more obscene, touching tougher subjects, and the generation listening to the music isn’t bothered by it at all. Sex is also becoming more and more acceptable, from mention of it in the 60s to the images displayed to pre-teens now (artists like Britney Spears, helping young girls identify with halter tops and short shorts).
I turned thirteen in the year 2000, making my years of rebellion both recent, and something to look forward to for perhaps another half-decade, maybe more. Though I don’t call myself a typical teenager, I tend to rebel against the current rebellion.
I watched the MTV Music Video Awards recently and found myself noting two themes in the music and clothing styles. There’s rap, most of which is currently about drugs, “ho”s, and “pimpin”. “Rapper” clothes such as baggy pants are in, and the girls on stage are dressed in clothes to accentuate their breasts and butts. The other theme, even in pop music, is a gothic and emo look and sound. A lot of the music has a similar message with a different style, the look is tighter, more 80s inspired, and there’s a new fascination with eyeliner and fishnets.
Though I’m partial to the “gothic” look myself, I noticed that my generation seems to have separated all music by these two genres/styles. There are the ”rappers” who read XXL and talk about how “bad-ass” they are. Their music is rap, R&B, soul, and there’s a tame interest in Jesus, interestingly enough. Then there were “populars” who bought their clothes from Abercrombie and Fitch and listened to pop music, who have now merged with the Hot Topic “rebels”, wearing black, dying their hair, and wearing wrist bands cause they look cool. Listening to “tortured” artists with “real” songs like Good Charlotte, Avril Lavigne, or Marilyn Manson.
Then, of course, there’s the actual rebellion, those young people who consider themselves in touch with “true” Goth, who laugh at people who shop at Hot Topic and listen to Good Charlotte. They buy their clothing from ebay.com or vintage stores, listen to industrial or darker music (A Perfect Circle, Tool), and try to avoid the commercial look of the teeny-boppers. But even they’ve begun conforming within the bounds of what their peers think is cool or not. As I once said to a friend, “the only thing worse than conformity is rebellion with guidelines”.
As a teenager who has managed to avoid the social pressures of such an age, I view this scene from the outside, seeing the same rebellious streak from this generation, one that slowly dissuades itself by the time the person hits their mid-twenties, and then haunts them their entire life. I can imagine my friend looking back at her high school yearbook years from now and saying “why the hell didn’t somebody tell me my hair looked horrible all short, spiky, and pink?”. Whether or not it actually does is not the issue, but even as we age our view of “fads” will corrupt our judgment of our former selves and our current selves.
Rebellion hasn’t changed much, looking at it now. Nothing’s more extreme; the limits just get set higher each generation, and the society changes with the times. The Spice Girls singing “if you wannabe my lover” was, at one point, considered rather “inappropriate”, now I can think of many parents who would rather that lyric be sung than things like “Gonna get rowdy / Gonna get a little unruly / Get it fired up in a hurry / Wanna get dirty / It’s about time that I came to start the party / Sweat drippin’ over my body / Dancing’ getting’ just a little naughty / Wanna get dirrty” (Christina Aguilera; “Dirrty”).
Though I think my generation’s doing pretty good as far as alienating our parents, I do wonder what will come next. I think we’ve pushed the barrier pretty far… can it actually go further? That’s one thing I can’t wait for. The future holds many unsure possibilities, but the one thing that remains constant is rebellion. What’s coming next?
On the other hand, I support being oneself, and attempt to promote it among my peers with a poem/rant I wrote a while back:
Be
The only thing worse
Than conformity
Is rebellion
Set by
Guidelines
Defined
By more than just
What it is
But what it should be
Who makes up these
Stupid rules?
"Real goth"
"Real punk"
I don't judge you
On where
You buy your clothes
Or the music
That you listen to
Or the poetry
You write
However
Dark and hopeless
I don't care
I don't view you
As a fucking label
I view you as an individual
Talented
Or
Talentless
Still
Struggling
To survive in
This human shell
"Poser"
What's that?
Perhaps rebellion
Is stupid
Depending on the
Masses
To make your life views?
To rebel is to
Take the opposition
But public opinion keeps
Changing
And my views don't tend to
Fluxuate
So instead of
Rebelling
I'm trying something new
I'm gonna be myself
And let you be
You
I'm going to suit my
Whim and fancy
Live only
To
Satisfy me
And
My life
If it happens
To coincide with the norm
I will ignore the claims
Of conformity
For my intentions are
Known only to me
If I happen
To be depressed
Wearing all black
Talking about death
And listening to
Marilyn Manson
"Poser?"
It's just my current mood
At the current time
And I'm sick of
People
Analyzing
Every step I take
Every move I make
This is not a game of chess
This is my life
And I'm going to live it to my best
I could linger on the past
Hurt and damaged
I've got the perfect excuse
To be another
Cut loose
Problem child
Tortured artist
Pity me
But instead I focus
On what I have and what I've done
What I plan to do and what I hope never to do
I look at my life
The fact that I'm satisfied
Am happy in my religion
And don't need to pick at someone else
To give myself a boost
Look how good I've got it!
I'll still complain
Somedays
Cause sometimes
You need to get the feelings out
But I'm going to tell you
Right now
Avril
Good Charlotte
Marilyn Manson
Hot Topic
Sometimes they bother me
But generally
I don't give a flying fuck
I don't care what you do
I just want to be me
And am willing to accept you
This poem has gone over rather well where I’ve shared it, and I’ve actually found many people who are interested in rejecting the conform or rebel ideas in favour of self-appreciation. Could society function without rebellion though?
Copyright Avens "Dagny" Nibhriain
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
Anarchy
Written: 5 November, 2003
“Undermine their pompous authority, reject their moral standards, make anarchy and disorder your trademarks. Cause as much chaos and disruption as possible. But don’t let them take you alive.” In the words of Sid Vicious, anarchy is a method of rebellion, an extreme political radicalism synonymous with declaring your own freedom from rules, regulations, and authority. This definition is the one most used by its opponents, who hope to display a reckless, unrealistic political theory. Goodness knows Sid Vicious having said it probably helps in that regard.
Anarchy is a heavily debated topic with an interesting history. First though, one should pick apart its root. The suffix “-archy” means “rule” or “ruling”. “An”, infers “without”. Therefore, “anarchy” means “without ruling” or “without leadership”. “An-archos” in Greek means “without a rule”. Words this relates to, on a linguistic basis, are things like “monarchy” or “democracy”. “Monarchy” is rule by one; democracy is rule by the people. These terms are used to represent differing forms of government.
Different sources say different things regarding anarchy. Most often described as a “political theory”, it has several definitions. There’s the absence of government, there’s political disorder, absolute liberty, non-recognition of authority, non-recognition of law, and conflicts of opinion. Some anarchists say they want the government demolished. Some anarchists are in support of absolute chaos. Some anarchists don’t care about rules or even government by the people, because they feel each person is responsible for him or herself. Anarchy is often associated with discord and dissonance.
But there are various shades of anarchy. I support the theory because I know the extreme would never be implemented, therefore I don’t worry about supporting a cause that I may disagree with if put into practice. I consider myself a reasonable, realistic anarchist. I support the idea that perhaps the government will cease to exist. That the government will have no control over my life or me. I support the absence of government, absolute liberty, and the non-recognition of authority.
But, I do not support disorder. I do not support chaos and lawlessness. I feel that anarchy could never work in modern society because there are far too many out there just for themselves, who have no consideration for their peers. I believe anarchy cannot work without proper education. In order for the people to govern themselves autonomously, people need to know what they’re doing. They need to be educated, creating their own moral standards and degrees of self-law. As long as people are lazy, uneducated and dependant on things like government programs, they will never be free, never be able to declare themselves truly independent. Perhaps that is a good thing, inter-dependant society is plenty useful, but I do value my ability to support myself on my own.
But many anarchists would disagree with me, Sid Vicious included, on what anarchy is. Some want that lack of peace, some want brawls and fights and civil disorder. Such a thing is madness to me.
In today’s world, anarchy gets a lot of bad press. Anarchy is, in today’s world, a war-torn country with no help. Anarchy is a mess. Anarchy is a heroin addicted bass player from a punk band of the 70s. To me, anarchy is the lack of authority, the lack of a standard. To me, anarchy is when you are not forced to comply, or forced to do anything at all, but abide by common standards of society because you want to. This coincides with the Britannica basic explanation of anarchism, which is that the imposition of government to coerce its people to submission to the standards and rules has a negative effect on people as a whole. Though some band together under this philosophy, hoping to gain power, take control, and then demolish it, others fear the corruption of power and wouldn’t dare even consider involving themselves in a takeover movement.
Some forms of anarchy are peaceful, others are not. As one can tell, Sid Vicious was in support of the most extreme and deadly kind, the kind that wages in war-torn countries after a civil revolution that doesn’t go as planned, and perhaps even developing into terrorism. Though Sid’s statement was likely very much for effect, it surely inspired others to feel that way towards establishment, institutions, authority of any kind, and society in general. At the Queen’s Jubilee, years back, the Sex Pistols followed the Queen of England in a boat, playing their own version of “God Save The Queen” (which, in original form, is the United Kingdom’s national anthem). These words were “…God save the queen, the fascist regime, they made you a moron, potential H-bomb … God save the queen, she ain’t no human being, there is no future in England’s dreaming … don’t be told what you want, don’t be told what you need … there’s no future … God save the queen, ‘cause tourists are money, our figures head is not what she seems…”
Anarchy or not, these words have an impact, and they do represent one form of this rather misunderstood concept. Any opponent may display those words and the “unlawful” actions of people like Sid Vicious to promote this image of recklessness associated with anarchy. I may say I’m an anarchist to incite a political debate; the word “anarchy” does tend to make people think disorder, chaos, and riots. But there’s so much more to anarchy. Anarcho-syndicalism was a rather tame but large movement in the early 1900s in France, with much impact on other European nations, that had little to do with chaos and disorder. As I say, we must educate the people in order to achieve a society in which my vision of anarchy is possible. So let’s start with vocabulary. Open a dictionary, and take a long look at the list of definitions for that one word. Anarchy.
Copyright Avens "Dagny" Nibhriain
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
Making Fun
Written: 2 October, 2003
“So, how much is my mother paying you for this?”
“Thirty dollars.”
“Thirty dollars!? For three days?”
“Yes, now will you please realize you’re much too big for a piggy-back ride?” Heather jumped off my aching back and started dancing in circles. This was the the third day of her visit and she was really wearing my patience.
I’m known as the neighbourhood baby-sitter. I never had younger siblings, but I enjoy the company of children because their interest in the world inspires me to perhaps become less apathetic, their innocence and naivety reminds me of what I missed out on. I baby-sit mostly for single parents, who can’t actually afford to pay me my usual seven dollars an hour, but that doesn’t bother me. Once a year, my mother’s friend Ellen comes to visit from Virginia, and with her she brings her nine-year-old daughter Heather. They stay for a weekend, and I’m expected to amuse, entertain, watch, and spend time with, Heather. Three days of my routine shattered, and I’m not paid particularly well for it.
“Why do you wear so much black?” Heather asked me, for the fourth time that visit.
“I like the colour black.” I responded, impatiently.
“Black isn’t a colour.” Heather whined back. She rethought what she said and then stated, “It does look good on you, though, Avens.” I smiled.
“I suppose it does. I’ve always thought so.”
“Kids at my school get made fun of for wearing black.”
“That’s too bad. Kids can be so cruel to each other sometimes.” I was reminded of my years in school, kids made fun of me too.
“Why don’t you go to school anymore?” she asked me, while prompting me to sit down on the grass next to her and pulling Pokemon figures out of her pockets. I remember when Pokemon was what everybody had. Though I’ve never been a trend follower, I realize how hard it is to actually love a trend, and I find myself respecting Heather for what she must put up with, defending her love for her little Japanese cartoon characters years after their drop in popularity.
“I didn’t like it.” I started fiddling with a character that looked like a cat. I thought it was kind of cute.
“So you’re in college?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I couldn’t do that, I’d miss my friends!” she stated.
“I don’t have many friends.” I justified.
“Perhaps you would if you’d gone to high school.” Heather pointed out. One thing I respect about Heather is she’s rather blunt, though it makes her rather tactless. “No, I don’t get along with people my own age.”
“You don’t have much fun.” Heather laughed.
“Depends what you consider fun.” I countered.
“Avens, you wouldn’t know fun if it ran up in front of you and smacked you.”
“Depends how hard it smacked me.”
“You’re funny but you don’t have fun. You’re weird, Avens.” Heather scowled at me. Conversations like this often remind me that perhaps I’m a child in an adult world, or maybe an adult in a child’s world.
“So let’s have fun.” I proposed.
“You can’t just HAVE fun. You have to MAKE fun.” she corrected me.
“Oh? And how do I do that?” I laughed.
“You’re the baby-sitter, you must’ve had fun once upon a time,” she laughed, putting the burden of fun on me.
“Right… what do I like to do? I could go for a game of Scrabble.” I suggested.
“You’ve got to be kidding me! That requires too much thought!” Heather dismissed my idea.
I finally convinced Heather to play Scrabble with me, but she was bored out of her mind. She was interested in painting, which is something I do, so we wandered to my basement where I keep my art stuff.
“Avens, what is THAT?” Heather came up behind me, looking skeptically at my artwork.
“What does it look like to you?” I asked.
After thinking about it a minute, she said, “A mess.”
“It’s abstract art, it’s entirely open to interpretation.”
“Abstract is a synonym for weird isn’t it?”
I laughed, and then took a look at her painting. She’d made a self-portrait stick-figure beside a giant flower. She grabbed her brush and smeared paint over her picture. “I don’t like this, I’m no good at it.”
“So what do you suggest we do now?”
“Let’s go adventuring!”
I remembered that I used to do this at her age, and how worried my mother would get while I was gone, so I hesitantly agreed. “Okay, wait while I go grab my cell phone. Then if Mum is looking for me, she won’t worry.”
Heather didn’t like that idea, but she followed me inside, so I could write a note for my mother just in case she came home, and to get stuff for our adventure. We put a few ratty towels and some “supplies” in a backpack, along with a sandwich and Gatorade for each of us. Heather located two little notebooks and some pencils.
“We’re going to be spies!” she decided.
“Who will we spy on?” I asked.
“Your neighbours!”
“Oh, we can’t do that, we could get in trouble. People have a right to privacy.”
“Avens, you’re not making this fun! Come on! Remember the movie Harriet the Spy? You want to be a writer! You have to see things. Let’s go spy.” I reluctantly followed her out the backdoor, still thinking about the fact that sneaking into people’s yards and peeking into their windows is trespassing and frowned upon by law.
We got into my neighbour’s yard, jump the fence, and climbed the closest tree. Perched precariously, Heather pulled out binoculars and started mentioning things she could see. I wrote them down, still mindful of how stupid I considered this activity to be.
“Oh! Avens! Come look! Your neighbour is dancing in her living room!” I took the binoculars, surely enough, there’s Emily, dancing along to something playing on the television. I’m amused.
This went on for a while, from that tree we could see most of the houses on this corner and I found myself learning the most subtle things about my neighbours. Emily doesn’t lock her car doors nor her house. The woman across the street from me was housecleaning and kept bringing junk to the curb. The man in the house next to mine obsessively sweeps his porch. Hours pass and we were still finding interesting things to look at.
“What the hell are you kids doing!?” a voice rang out. A good spy never gets caught, but apparently Heather and I were amateurs. Emily came storming out of her house yelling and lecturing.
“Avens, you’re supposed to be responsible! You’re supposed to be watching Heather. You should watch a movie with her or something, not trespassing! What were you doing anyway?”
I didn’t answer. I’d been caught acting childish and I felt really stupid.
“We were-,” Heather started, but Emily cut her off.
“Avens! What were you thinking!?” I saw her all flustered and upset and then the supposed seriousness of this event became amusing. I’m still a kid, I was enjoying myself, forgetting about laws and rules and all the stupid things that don’t matter to children. I laughed and as Emily looked at me questioningly I smiled sweetly, usher Heather out of her yard, turn to her and say:
“We were making fun.”
Copyright Avens "Dagny" Nibhriain
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
Friday, December 12th, 2003
|
|
|
Reasons
Written: 11 December, 2003
He pushes her away again
I'm sure he's got his reasons
She doesn't know what to do this time
There's so much to these situations
It's all a mess when you throw in emotions
The ocean overwhelms her with tidal waves of fear
Waves of fear overwhelming overwhelming reasons
He says no and she's taken aback
I'm sure she's got her reasons
He's playing games and she's far from happy
She's weighing all of her potential decisions
Remaining patient, being used, it's all a shady business
But business, oh, business can go on and maybe she should
Just walk away, go, walk away: she got her reasons
But unreasonable actions
Unreasonable faith
All products of devotion
That I wouldn't ever change
And reasons are reasons
But she can't just walk away
She'll stick it out
She'll stick it out
I'll stick it out
I tell you I've got my reasons
She'll tell you she's got her reasons
#65
Copyright Avens "Dagny" Nibhriain -Nightingale
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
Saturday, November 29th, 2003
|
|
|
Bittersweet
Written: 17 October, 2003
Darkness drifting, sifting emotions
Like a dryer spinning a load of laundry
Reading words that depress the senses
Holding back oceans of tears
Life sucks sometimes
Yet life is beautiful
But how it rears its ugly head
For you, my friend
Casket closing: should've stopped her
Six feet under: can't dig her up now
Drifting away on clouds of glitter
A collection of all the decorations
Made when she was young
The carpet pattern moves under the gaze
Of friends whose eyes swim in tears not shed
[What can be done?]
Detatched he lingers for a moment
Unsure of those last fleeting thoughts
Cause and effect
Wandering the bounds of Limbo
Like a phantom
Ghostly images of memories
Played in a slideshow
On the movie theatre screen
While he remembers kisses stolen at that scene
[Never forgotten]
Displayed hopes and dreams
Like treats at a bakery
Lined up with cards detailing their ingredients
He takes a cream-filled pastry
Family and security for five hundred
The theme music plays
Game shows on television prove
We all have fifteen minutes of fame
Memories swirl faster like a hurricane
Erupting, volcanic rock
Hailing down upon his head
Duck and cover
Maybe he'll live one more day
Maybe he'll let it fly past
Bees attracted to nectar
Creating honey that he can devour
Fuel his passions
But then he returns to where she rests
He cannot fight for her
For her battle is over and lost
And his eyes close on tears which shall finally be shed
For he appreciates how fragile life is
He can live life and love it
He can live each day
But this lesson learned is
Bittersweet
For she shall not share
This life with him
Copyright Avens "Dagny" Nibhriain - Nightingale
#58
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
Mirrors
Written: 21 September, 2003
I'm looking at myself
Looking at myself
Looking at
Myself
Through the
Looking glass
Looking
Through the mirror
I see myself
Seeing
Staring at myself
Through my eyes
My eyes
Looking at my eyes
Whoa
I locked myself away
Far away, locked away
Isolated
Alone
Solitary
Hid from them
Hid from
They who seek to hurt me
Out to get me
They're gone
They can't get in
Finally
My troubles are on
The other side
Of this locked door
My problems build up
On the other side
Of this wall
They can't get me
I'm safe
Locked away
Alone
Here
Hiding
But eventually
I have to face them
Stare them in the eye
Problems
Troubles
People
Once I've hid from
Everything else
Everybody else
I realize that
I can't hide from myself
Copyright Avens "Dagny" Nibhriain - Nightingale
#56
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
My Rain Dance
Written: 26 October, 2003
...I dance in the pouring rain...
because there I can cry
and my tears are disguised
as those of the sky's
Copyright Avens "Dagny" Nibhriain - Nightingale
#60
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
Give & Take
Written: 2 November, 2003
My love is a rose
It's blooming
But I'm holding it recklessly
And when my hand moves
A thorn pricks my skin
And red like the bud
Pours from within
It hurts but
The pain
Is something
I'm beginning to believe
I must endure
Because I need to know
I need to know
If this rose will survive
Shall I prolong it's suffering?
Keep it alive
Or will it die?
And will its death
Bring me sorrow
That I should avoid
By ending this love now?
...
My heart is a rock
And the rain has collected
In a crack
That has been there for so long
Now I feel the cold
Freezing the water
Turning it to
Ice
And it breaks
My rock
My heart
Shatters
In a million pieces
I can see it coming
You give me chills
Is it too late
To be warm again?
...
I handed you my heart
It's on a cushion
There for you to take
I think you know by now
That you can use it
Abuse it
Refuse it
You have yet to take it
But you flirt with it
Reaching closer
And closer
And I hold it out
In case perhaps
Your arm
Just won't extend
That far
But still you don't quite catch it
Don't quite grab it
Still you assure me that you'll take it
You love me
Yes, you love me
Take it please
I'm giving you my heart
...
That constant prevention
Constant restraint
It taints the rosebud
Slowly it dies
It freezes the ice
Breaks the rock
It pulls your hand away
From the heart upon the cushion
...
Maybe this is my fault
...
I avoided
Confronting this
For fear that it would hurt
But now I see
That it'll hurt less now
Than it would hurt later
...
I told you I loved you
I know that you love me
But I'm in love with you
...
Maybe this is my fault
...
I gave you my heart
But I never asked if you wanted it
Copyright Avens "Dagny" Nibhriain - Nightingale
#62
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
My Bit Of Wonderland
Written: 17 November, 2003
I’m not quite Alice
She tumbled down the rabbit hole
Found herself in a land
Where eating one thing
Made her big
Eating another
Made her small
My mood shifts
Much like her size
Up and down
Eat this
Eat that
Dreary dark depression
Overwhelming tidal waves
Of sinking sadness
Silence as I fall
When I hit the bottom
Echoes
Of loneliness
Then colours!
Light!
Bright and shiny!
So exciting!
A disco ball of scattered thoughts!
So happy!
So exciting!
Then down again
Back to my deep pit of darkness
Once I’ve hit rock bottom
The only way I can go is up
But why bother
When I know I’ll just come
Tumbling down again?
- - -
“I’m writing this suicide note
At the peak of my happiness
Nothing can get better than this
The only place I can go from here is
D
O
W
N
|
\/
So good-bye world”
- - -
Life offers two things:
Pain and pleasure
Guarantees
But one:
Death
Death is the only absolute
And the only completely consistent people
Are the dead
But why not take what I should have?
I’ll end up
Rotting in the ground
No matter how I play my cards
Cheat
Win
Take something out of life
That wasn’t promised
But is now essential
I can fall
But I know I’m going to fall
No matter what I do
Rock bottom can prove itself quite cushiony
When I start sinking into deeper layers
Illusions?
What if pain is just an illusion?
What if all feeling is an illusion?
Illusion or not it’s real enough
To satisfy my skeptical acceptance
Copyright Avens "Dagny" Nibhriain - Nightingale
#64
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
Thursday, September 4th, 2003
|
|
|
Be
Written: 3 September, 2003
The only thing worse
Than conformity
Is rebellion
Set by
Guidelines
Defined
By more than just
What it is
But what it should be
Who makes up these
Stupid rules?
"Real goth"
"Real punk"
I don't judge you
On where
You buy your clothes
Or the music
That you listen to
Or the poetry
You write
However
Dark and hopeless
I don't care
I don't view you
As a fucking label
I view you as an individual
Talented
Or
Talentless
Still
Struggling
To survive in
This human shell
"Poser"
What's that?
Perhaps rebellion
Is stupid
Depending on the
Masses
To make your life views?
To rebel is to
Take the opposition
But public opinion keeps
Changing
And my views don't tend to
Fluxuate
So instead of
Rebelling
I'm trying something new
I'm gonna be myself
And let you be
You
I'm going to suit my
Whim and fancy
Live only
To
Satisfy me
And
My life
If it happens
To coincide with the norm
I will ignore the claims
Of conformity
For my intentions are
Known only to me
If I happen
To be depressed
Wearing all black
Talking about death
And listening to
Marilyn Manson
"Poser?"
It's just my current mood
At the current time
And I'm sick of
People
Analyzing
Every step I take
Every move I make
This is not a game of chess
This is my life
And I'm going to live it to my best
I could linger on the past
Hurt and damaged
I've got the perfect excuse
To be another
Cut loose
Problem child
Tortured artist
Pity me
But instead I focus
On what I have and what I've done
What I plan to do and what I hope never to do
I look at my life
The fact that I'm satisfied
Am happy in my religion
And don't need to pick at someone else
To give myself a boost
Look how good I've got it!
I'll still complain
Somedays
Cause sometimes
You need to get the feelings out
But I'm going to tell you
Right now
Avril
Good Charlotte
Marilyn Manson
Hot Topic
Sometimes they bother me
But generally
I don't give a flying fuck
I don't care what you do
I just want to be me
And am willing to accept you
Copyright 2003 Avens "Dagny" Nibhriain - Nightingale
#51
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
vxnightingalexv's journal