Sunday, June 10, 2012

POEMS FROM A SHAMANIC INITIATION


from “FLESH JOY PART II”


copyright 2012 Shaman Dagaji

 

 

 

INTRODUCTION

           
            Flesh Joy Part I consists of eleven sections composed through various quartz crystals.  The first three sections, “Egypt”, “Lisa in Greece”, and “The Splitting”, were written immediately prior to the onset of my Initiation as a Shaman, on Christmas Day, 1990.  These poems were my personal introduction to my Spirit Guides, various past lives, and certain themes concerning my interactions with my spirits.  After three decades of writing poetry in a transformational mode, I considered Flesh Joy to be my ‘magnum opus’.  It was composed in a style arrived at after several months of work during that summer.
            After I had completed Flesh Joy, Part I, I was ready to move on to something else.  It had been a very intense period in the most intense experience of my life.   At a certain point, my spirits indicated we were going to do Part II.  I had the greatest resistance to this.  The entry for February 25, 1992, reads, “I don’t have to do this anymore.”
            Flesh Joy I ended on December 22, 1991, capping almost a year of very intense activity, working round the clock with my spirits.  Poems in the ‘stepped line’ style continue through January, with a poem through Nefertiti’s crystal involving Genghis Khan, and then in February, I began using a crystal called “Clouds In Heaven.”  A series of poems in regular prosody builds to some poems from Jesus.
            On March 2, 1992, using the “Killer Channel” crystal, I wrote the first entry for “May-Hee-Co!”, which didn’t make it to the typewriter, for some reason.  The next day, I’m using the “Left Channel” crystal, and then the “Right Channel” on alternating days, until April 14, the end of the section.
            My journals had not matured into much more than records of the I Ching, in those days.  They weren’t even called journals.  I had a poor regard for people who kept journals at that time.  But I had seen the need to do something, so I have several notebooks full of entries of various kinds before that.
            On March 9, 1992, I call the poem “Flesh Torment”.
            I’ve been trying to recall just why I had such a negative feeling about starting Part II.  It was just something I did not want to do, but my guides insisted.  The section following “May-Hee-Co!” deals with material from the same two crystals, from “Montezuma’s spirit”.  This section ends with the New Moon in May, the 3rd.
            On June 13, I am using the Record Keeper Crystal for a series of pseudo-sonnets.  These involve living in Egypt, and the prototype for Jesus.
            Then the sonnets break up, and I’m asking Ascended Master Koot Hoomi for help with the Record Keeper.
            So the discomfort I was feeling stems, I believe, from a deep inner knowledge of this material, which I would rather not admit.
            “May-Hee-Co!” deals with the re-entry of Montezuma’s spirit into Mexico as a precursor to the return of Quetzalcoatl, who is the God-Who-Unites-All-Gods.  It is set in a fictional episode involving members of my soul group.  By fictional, I mean it is a spirit contrivance.  All this material is presented through third-eye visions with the crystal pressed to my brow.  The visions are fleeting.  When I write, there is no possibility of revision.  There is no memory in the third eye during this work.  Just like in a radio, or a computer, the crystal serves as a direct link to spirit consciousness.  I write what I see, tempered by what I feel, in the style I’ve developed over the years.  The material is always a surprise to me, and is in no way a part of my normal consciousness.
            Jesus has told me through many methods that he has re-incarnated countless times on the planet since his death and resurrection.  Apparently I am one of these re-incarnations.  When I learned this, I also learned that genetically, Jesus is now a part of every human on the planet.  What I have done, I am guessing, through my work over the years, is to awaken that part of my DNA which is Jesus.  As the original Jesus was “God in the flesh”, so now is every person.  They need only to awaken that “Kingdom of Heaven” which is within, to realize this.  As near as I can tell, this is the secret of Quetzalcoatl.  The God-Who-Unites-All-Gods now resides in each of us.
            In 1992, I wanted no part of this scenario.  Now, in 2006, all I want is to get the work out and move on with my life!  The intervening years have indeed been a torment.  But I believe that the world I have discovered is relevant in ways I can’t even imagine.  So this is a part of my contribution, for what it’s worth.


April 22, 2006  (Earth Day)
Yakima, Washington







SECTION THREE

“MAY-HEE-CO!”
3.2.92-4.14.92

only one moon
                          full and bright
                                                   in deep black space
receding

one fire
              yellow and orange
                                              licking the lower portion
of the sky

whittlings curl off the stick
                                              vanish to ash
                                                                      dawn peeks over the hills

the stick is very short now


*     *     *

commitment
                      you’ve got to have commitment
                                                                           to drag yourself
back through the weeds of the unknown

to where you might never have been

guided by blue lights

become the black zombie
                                           in scenes
                                                            you’d rather forget
they damn you so


she was such a beauty
                                     cartridge belts
                                                              across her breasts
her face through eons


lost in the deep green and blue
                                                   first a finger
                                                                         pokes through
between colors

the reds gush through
                                        floods of orange
                                                                    a rush of filth

*     *     *

contempt of the stars
                                    they spit
                                                    on what I have done
on my pride
                     the ashes
                                     of my ruined self
the deep
               broad black
                                    undergarment of life
black bag
                  the drowned cat


words
            ambiguous intent
                                          crawl from rocks
chiggers and ticks
                               my naked flesh
                                                          staked to the clay
beetles
             inside my blisters

she pours water
                           over my loins
                                                   it burns

*     *     *

the eyes behind the darkness
                                                 one eye here
                                                                        one eye there
they watch

is that a blue skirt?
                                a woman
                                                 bending over
reaching into the back of a wagon

something has rolled forward
                                                  away from the tailgate

I think it must be a skull
                                         or a black bag
                                                                  concealing a rifle
several rifles in a bedroll


take this life
                      I no longer live it

*     *     *

indigo
             indigo and violet
                                          whirlwinds
spontaneous vortexes
                                    with one voice
                                                             a siren

what happened to the well
                                            its mouth broken
                                                                          caved in
asshole in brown
                             dry dirt
                                            the shadow of the cliff
shrunk to the shrubs

they stuffed up the well
                                        we’ve been wiped out

*     *     *

I pray some prayers
                                  for what I’ve been through
                                                                                to come to this
wide open

straight as a blade
                               without prejudice
                                                             as to gender

the high sun
                      yellow in its all-white sky
                                                                  a cave for shade
I live with spirits

*     *     *
electric blue beads
                                highlight the headband
                                                                        the headman’s halo
where’d his face go?

embroidered loincloth
                                      red at the edges
                                                                 a lion in black
head of a spear
                          moonshaped diamond
                                                                fire eyes
he is pointing

his left hand
                      points at me

*     *     *

you don’t have to go very high
                                                   to be right up out of your body
it just seems that way

a row of very sharp teeth
                                          to decorate an awning
                                                                               glint in the sunlight
huge flapping wings
                                   won’t let me see

I slide down

a row of glistening totems
                                            green outlines in blackness

a place to walk on

a crow hops by to guide me

*     *     *

helicopters
                    couldn’t get this high
                                                        stay so long in place
so close to the cliff

I see the patterns
                             the molecules make
                                                                  as they form ethers
molecular light

I see spiral lines
                            they are the railroad
                                                               Time takes
from here to there

they are the transpersonal
                                           chakras opening
                                                                        into the deep self
the self that rises

from the Black Ray


beneath guilt
                        I no longer know myself
                                                                 I am
the axe that bleeds

I am a woman

let neither hope
                           nor fear
                                         determine my fate

*     *     *

guns blazing
                      suicide in the streets
                                                         bodies rushing
in front of bullets
                              it is the children
                                                           nowhere to go

it is my blood time
                                I have torn my skirt
                                                                  for the blood

in the sun high
                          blue sky
                                          I see no hope
huge dogs
                  fight in the clouds
                                                  beyond the mountains

*     *     *

concentrate
                     closed to the world
                                                      focus
turn inward
                     the eyes close
                                              thought retreats
a pussy opens
                         enter
                                    scenes of the world
appear and disappear

rifles stacked in the pews
                                           we are eating
                                                                   watching
through the windows

one child lies in the street

he has black hair
                             his face is gone
                                                        caught looking

we seem to be rootless

*     *     *

it is so exhilarating
                                 the greenapple leaves
                                                                      just budding out
above the white blossoms
                                           the season of breeding

I am an adobe wall
                                 soaking up the sun
                                                                  after the black cold
my espaliered façade
                                    is shielded by new growth
                                                                                where wasps
fly to and from their nests
                                            formed in my bullet holes

there are boards on my windows

*     *     *
in raja yoga
                     the two halves
                                               of the androgynous self
separate into their modes
                                           of male and female
and fuck each other
                                  that’s God attainment

the blackness inside
                                  is alive with imagery
                                                                      it swims
a shark with flashing smile

thick brown boards
                                 form the table
                                                          it will last forever
but the bread
                        will be gone today
                                                        we don’t care
we have bound each
                                   our wrists
                                                     with leather
the five of us

in this pure consciousness
                                            I cannot decide
                                                                       which one is I

*     *     *

if I could draw a horse
                                      I could ride through this wall
the worst is fear of course
                                            of dirt so thick it swims
it glues the light like lime
                                           I breathe I breathe the light

I am an arrow
                         I am a heart pierced
                                                            I am fallen Lisa
there used to be six

*     *     *

organize your soul for departure

the pipe organ sounds its alarums

to see Lisa watching
                                   she is always overseeing
                                                                            she cannot act
lifetime after lifetime of struggle

I am ego
                Lisa sees through my eyes
                                                            I am damned
how will she see?

I have killed some people in the bank
                                                              she does not like this

I enjoyed it
                     the pop of the blood
                                                        the ghost
screaming above their heads
                                                my delight
                                                                    is to act
the slug
               slamming its lead into flesh

*     *     *

it feels like feathers
                                  stuck in a headband
                                                                     causal chakra
back of the skull

a sun disc
                  punctuated with bindu
                                                         clinks in a slot

my embroidered black vest
                                              has roses
                                                               surrounded by white thread
I chew a skinny cigar

I bluff
             behind a full house
                                              Queens over Aces
the table is full
                          the chairs are empty

*     *     *

the eye in the web
                               clouds pass
                                                    light sprinkles of sun
Time’s arrow
                         cling to it
                                           at this level
go with it
                  heart speed
                                       thunk in the straw

the clay soil is hard
                                  my hands are scarred
                                                                       I am very poor
the well is dead

the water from the stream
                                            will never last

*     *     *

think thank thunk
                              I am the town drunk
                                                                 on one knee
dependent on thee

“I don’t think he can ever make it”

                                                       Lisa
                                                                looking out the window
the cabin hangs down

beneath the body of the vehicle

so large you could never see it

*     *     *

sombrero
                 slightly askew
                                          eyes glazed
I have just seen her spirit

sent to another time zone

she who boiled me

whom I came to love

whatever I have left
                                   I have lost that too
                                                                   no place to go
the others

they have lost everything too

but they have found places
                                             none of them near here

*     *     *

arid
         I feel arid today
                                     it’s a word for thirsty
but I am not dry

                                         I am waiting

                                                                             like the land
thunderstorms brewing somewhere

                                                                              like the plants
green waiting beneath grey

I can see the jungles from here
                                                    leafpulp
                                                                    lush with liquid
blossoms aquiver with juice

I am between sexes
                                  beyond love
                                                         I am root
there is only this one place

we will begin again here

*     *     *

it’s bliss
                to be this close to oneself
                                                           everything is love
it starts here

before all else

                         how dull

                                          one needs a goal

*     *     *

blank out
                 from deep space
                                              my mind begins to focus
I is large

Other
            is tiny and far distant
                                                 the center
of many rays

a beautiful
                   feminine eye
                                          its wink
shocks me open

a face begins to form

judo karate kung-fu
                                  many fighters
                                                           calligraphy of figures
recedes across a gulf
                                    forming a bridge

*     *     *

a Pegasus
                  horse with wings
                                                white horse
brings us together

from his wing
                         this feather
                                             I am your father
we shall know the future

                                                                                    “May-hee-co!
                                                                                                              Ai-ee-ya!” 

*     *     *

I am a stupa formed from flame
                                                     there are clouds about my brain
vast heavens of clouds
                                      behind them
                                                             blue sky
one eye

from here
                  the movies of times past
                                                            run fast forward
into the future

the Eagle
                 can take me there
                                                2010
single again

*     *     *

staring at the eye of self-knowledge
                                                            the infinity
                                                                                behind its pupil
begins to breathe

I am
          the pyramidion
                                     I see
in all directions

I see
          the pyramid
                                truncated
to receive me

vines and jungles
                              stone statues
                                                     people
going about their business

*     *     *

I don’t know
                        must be the North Pole
                                                                   I see snow
whirling in a vortex
                                    a blue post
                                                        red cap
blurred by the whirl
                                  sinking

it is a square base
                               packed brown dirt
                                                               atop stacked stone
I touch down
                        two toes
                                        nothing stops me
I have no body

I can dance here
                             dance my lone light

*     *     *

a whirling sundisc
                               forms from nothingness
                                                                        it has my name
I stand Aztec
                       hunter posture
                                                erection and fangs

sun disc shines
                           through my lizard eyes
                                                                  burning jungle
burning cactus
                          burning the sea

I can walk
                   but with my wings
                                                    why should I?
the people
                   to let the people touch me

*     *     *

blossoms
                 bursting forth
                                          from the tips of cactus
lightning
                 inside the cathedrals
                                                        of clouds
the heavens
                     blackness
                                       bursting with light

each of the pyramids
                                    has been penetrated

our coming together
                                    will be remembered

*     *     *

“Oh God please love me”
                                           a black lotus
                                                                  opens and closes
opens and closes
                             turns to a sun
                                                     an eye
silhouette of bluebird
                                     surrounding me with storms

I am alone
                   rooted
                                atop this pyramid
I am a wheel
                        revolving in all directions
                                                                    crushing everything

in the light before the thunder
                                                  when the hills
                                                                           pink and green
weep with sunlight
                                 I see the rain washing cities clean

above the wild grasses

*     *     *

heaven boils
                      its yellow and black lights
                                                                   propel time
in and out through my heart

bending the grasses

a stone chariot
                          leans into the wind
                                                            bringing Lisa
she is the barebreasted
                                       virgin who conquers

*     *     *

a tapestry of deerprints
                                        magenta yellow
                                                                     the deer
gallop into deep space
                                      silvery pale
                                                           looking back
silver antlers gleaming

the bell
              the bell
                            splits time with its tolling

chevrons chipped from stone
                                                 adorned with feathers
                                                                                       a wheel
a shield
               tip of each feather
                                              nipped to a “V”

I am the center of this shield
                                                 where the cross is
                                                                                the grip
you have seen me before
                                          outlined in blue

my quiver is filled
                                one of the arrows
                                                              is for you

*     *     *

a whole field of forget-me-nots
                                                    sky blue
                                                                   bright yellow
interspersed with asters

a hillside of balsam
                                  yellow dots
                                                          emanating green
the healer’s balm

a fleur de lys
                        engraved on diamond
                                                              deeper and deeper
as deep as we see

red sparkles
                      yellow spirals
                                               blue boings
boinging

a great lake
                     frozen still
                                         salt about the edges
Montezuma’s
                         spirit rises
                                            above the surface
coffee brown 



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