Clay the Cosmic Forge

 

Abwoon D’bashmaya,

Sophi-Ah Chavah Abwoon D’Bashmaya

Clay, our Mother—Earth.
Clay, the vessel. Clay, the cauldron.
Clay, the cunny—
Clay fermented grog, Grog ALU.
Grog, tempered.

Temper—
The capacity to hold.
To hold.

When the fires of anger ember,
when the heat of the moment
scalds—
Smarting. Sharp.
Kring!
Krang!
Krung!

Brittle iron shatters.
Iron. Will.
Iron-will.
Crisp, cold fracture.

The smith has worked her iron well,
quenched in the primal waters—
the shock has hardened,
tempered steel.

The smartest sword swings like a word in a weaving,
held in the warm starlight of silence.

Warmed by campfire,
warmed by Star,
warmed by the campfires of the stars,

Our Good Ancestors.
Our Temperament.

After stark shock swords,
after brittle blades fracture—
the sword reforms.
Ground. Granulated.
Grit for the mill.

Ground in the mortar and pestle,
ground in the flesh of the Grandmother,
ground by the endless river—
the river that wrinkles mountains.

The Rivering Wyrm,
Weaver of Land,
Mover of Earth.
(The Brumbies gallop.)

Clip-clop!
Coconuts gallop to the foamy Venus shore.

 

 

Whoever dwells within the tent of the stars
rests in the shadow of the Great Boobie.
The swollen nipples of Shaddai
stream white with lactation.

From the tits of the mountains flows Sarasvati,
the River of Knowledge,
the Milky Way— our galaxy.

The Beer of Hathor.
Auðumbla → (EHUTH-oom-blah)

Hathor.
ħuːwat ˈħaːru/ → (HOO-wat HA-roo)
House of Horus.

Bull’s eye! Aldebaran.
In the Moonth of Hathor,
the Golden Cow.

From the tits of the mountain,
stream forth nourishment.
Wrinkled.

 

 

Levigation of the primordial waters.
Levigated temper.
Levigated sediment.
Larger sinks first.

The mud, the lotus.
Isis, Osiris, Horus—
The Jewel is in the Lotus!

Fermenting in the Middle Cauldron,
the Midworld, our Middle Earth.

As above, so below.
As about, so within.

God is a wheel!
spoke the Sibyl of the Rhine,
Saint Hildegard von Bingen.

God is a wheel whose spokes are a tree,
spinning, spinning—
gossamer weaving.
Octarine magic thread.

 

 

All times are now.
The middle is the edge.
All now,
separated by the space of time.

Dark Moon is Saturn.
The wax and wane are seven.
Anterograde and retrograde—
twilight.

The Middle World,
of daylight rivers,
of eternal waters.

Daylight, where the color of magic is seen,
just between.
Betwixt the solar hero and endless night.

Where black holes become the brightest light
at their horizons.

Black-faced Ma Kali.
Tar-pit Madonna.
The Cunning of Sophia.

Titan who turned the stomach of Old bugger Time.
Retrogurgitation.
Sah-see.

Time is a sphere.

 

 

The ladder of Empire fell down.

Möbius strip kissed the horizon.
Three Kings brought incense and said:
“God is dead.”

But three days later,
the wise aligned with Sothar, 

Auset, the Dog Star.

The hinge of the fractal cycle.

Mother took a side—
holding up a rib to the new moon sky.

Mother ate a pomegranate.
A serpent ate an egg.

Pomegranate juice,
garnet and blood clots.

613 mysteries of the Menstruum.
The Covenant.
The Law.

Read your Agrippa.
Feel the thick, ruddy ochre.

The blood that is thicker.

 

 

 

Clay of our birth.
The neuralescent womb of the Mother.
The warmth of yolk and egg,
nestled by Mother Hen.

(Ceridwen gobbles up a grain of barley.)

Shining!
Born speaking poetry.

Soul fire. Sulfur.

Solve et coagula.
Garnet and Sophia.

Odel Odem.
Aliehat Elohim.
Armeen, Amen.
Sama-Sama.
Samen.

 

 

 

performed on:

Bar Oussou, Wednesday the 12th of March, 2025 

Crunchy Castle, Saturday the 22nd of March, 2025

soundcloud: Ishtaress