(A) Greek Midsummer Solstice.Revised Version. (B) The Rite of Spring.

                   (A).

Greek Midsummer Solstice. (Revised Version).

             1

After the rain
The earth is black as blood
Drawn from a dead Calf.

The Goddess Aphrodite,
Born of the dank earth
And not from the sea
As the Ancient Greeks
Would have us believe,
Is herself dark as
The Calf`s blood.

We sacrifice our selves
Totally
To her fierce deity
Without a thought,
Without a care.
Our bodies intertwined
Tightly together
In the still house
Like children stung by dreams.
We sleep fitfully
Afeared of the crescent moon
That hangs in the June sky
Like a sickle;

Or a flint knife lifted high 
over a sacred altar.

            2.

The Roman Gods are routed;
Diana turns aside,
Emphatically defeated;
Mars discards his armour,
His sword is pitted with rust.
Aphrodite now assumes
All their ancient powers,
Their sacred arts and symbols.
She sorts them with due ceremony
To neatly pack away
In her Shoulder Bag of tricks.

            3.

The cool rain has returned,
Hiding the sharp faced moon
Behind a curtain of torn silk.
In the dark we become aware
Of the cruel smile of the Goddess,
A smile that she rarely shows
Except when the moon is black.-
We snuggle up tightly together,
Caught in our mutual dependence,
The dark gift of the Goddess.
We snuggle up tightly together
To welcome sleep.

A sleep bereft of dreams.
The quiet sleep of the just.

Outside the tethered calves
Low softly in their pens.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
June 15th.-19th.-20th.- 21st.  2013.
February 23rd. 2014.
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                (B)

The Rite of Spring. 


Dance ugly
Give your education the boot
Be yourselves
Spit in the eye of the critics
Don`t give a damn
Dance ugly
And love it
Love it all the way to the archives

 People don`t believe you
When you dance ugly
They think you are lying
Making them look like fools
Gargoyles
They think you cannot dance at all
They think you are just thrashing in air
Meaninglessly
Trashing the heirlooms of reason
Idiotically
Like mythologised Vandals
Goths
When really you are forcing
Deep  Deep  Deep
Right into the heart of all things
The rock drill of intelligence
The diamond edge of truth

What is truth?
Pilate asked that question
But never got the answer,
It was just too easy for him,
Sacrifice was a masculine issue,
Nothing to do with the feminine,
Resurrection was not in his remit.

Dance ugly
Be true to yourselves
Thrust your fierceness into my face
Open up the jungle
The battles of life and death
Reality

Show us what we are


Trevor john Karsavin Potter
May 26th. 2013.