(untitled)#61

in the mirror held

frog’s silvered reflection – still

in the otherworld

.

surrounded by waves

pondering – so profoundly

even the mud hears

.

soundly – frog stamps

on ripples – the universe

his seal of fate

(untitled)#60

.

walking cobbled streets

grown from Templar’s founding – now

echo with their ghosts

.

ancient towns standing

testament to existence

buildings as headstones

.

which ones shall we slay –

will god recognise his own

let his will be done

.

is not mother church

a place of refuge – so lies

each genderless body

.

even now decay

models durability –

our impermanence

.

Now a modern city of ~ 75,000 people, the Massacre of Beziers took place in Languedoc, France, in 1209 A.D. The city was sacked by crusades against the ‘heretic’ Cathars and accounts suggest up to 20,000 were put to the sword.

Churches were broken open and those that had sought refuge were slain – up to 7,000 in the Church of St. Magdalene. The crusaders did not respect the supposed inviolable sanctity of church ground.

It is alleged that when asked how to recognise the heretics from the townsfolk, the Abbot replied ‘kill them all – god will recognise his own’.

Rather than God and Satan, Cathars considered that perhaps there were two gods – one good, one bad. The papal church viewed this as Satanism. The Cathars viewed the humans as the encapsulated souls of genderless angels. Perhaps they were right for the subject of sex returns to plague the modern day Church.

We shall never know their true beliefs as Catharism was destroyed along with most of its relics and works and their religion likely forms the root of the word ‘catharsis’ – to discharge pent-up emotions, probably from the torture that was used to encourage the betrayal of friends and family, a lack of zeal for which was considered to be a lack of commitment for the One True Church – or to expunge a problem.

(untitled)#58

.

oh – don’t miss a beat

my heart of glass – fragile!

encapsulated

.

plants remaining still

while all about lay strewn

fallen petals – shards

.

oh sky overhead –

where is heaven for flowers

seven colours meld

.

falling from the sky

rinsing spectra from the clouds

to lie upon snow

.

snowflakes upon snow –

trails I once walked – blanketed

run-ways to the stars

.

Nine Lives

oh how I now must face my fears

drying my eyes away where cold-shed tears

evaporate away to powder – salt

the only trace that’s left of fault

yet it is not true that I don’t regret

but quite what I should do – I forget

and my tears do not belie I’m sad

instead that once my heart was glad

I lived a life that was full of vigour

why I should be sad I just don’t figure

but now comes the part in this fine race

where my heart must live without its trace

nine-lives the cat but perhaps its true

that I had more, but more ran through

perhaps my last one ends just here

perhaps already by my fear

without regret could I live instead

in a world of poetry going round my head

perhaps I could return again

one more time to lift the rhyming pen

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