deepundergroundpoetry.com

for kali

she is nothing, the mother of everything
the energy wave that crashes matter to shore  
the black before god finds the light
every birth born from the bed of her death
 
you will find her in the yolk that beaks to break a shell
the seed that cracks to curling tower, the babe that suckles to king and queen
the lover that eats her mate, the  mother that eats her young  
 
find her when hunger stabs love and bleeds a meal for life
in the black-lava knife that milks a million throat-teats of  blood  
to slake the sweltering thirst of the blazing sun
 
find her in the fire forged nails that bled the saviors hands  
the hammer swinging thwack that hung the body on the tree
in every son drop of blood that drips to earth  
 
she is the open mouth demon drinking heaven from the pain
as each droplet scream spawns from her split-tongue flame
and her howls take the form of every war in the battlefield of life
 
and when your enemies prepare to out carve and gnaw your heart  
you will pray to her in the cemetery of your demise to spare your mortal life  
then  victor and the vanquished will see her in glory-full chaos creating destruction  
her mercy is cold like the stone heart of the  world mountain
her shattered tears are the sand souls of  all sentient beings turned to glass  
 
in the last light of day she comes on the bright wounds  that wrap the earth  
in the blood-drunk red-coal eyes of  her fury
in the tornado snake strikes of her black cloud-coiled hair  
 
she raises the blade that holds every death above her mane
in the other hand she plucks your head from the spine
like fruit from a stem, burns off the skin  
adds your skull to the belt of bones that garland
her severed hands of warriors skirt  
 
every living thing is dead
her  lolling tongue laps pools of loss
her crimson eyes roll to white blind energy
the music of  screams echo a song to drive her frenzied dance
she  stomps with a planet crushing power that will put every star dark
 
the light of the lamb appears to lay with the lion  
she stomps like the holy ghost  
buddah floats on lotus blooms beneath the boddhi tree    
she stomps like nirvanna
the last prophet, muhammad sings the  morning prayer
she stomps like a virgin reward
 
till shiva, her love, lays under her  thrashing claw-foot  
and  her energy is taken into the matter-heart of his being
and in her calm the world is allowed to live again
0913338
Written by 0913338 (Semaj)
Published | Edited 3rd Feb 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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