1. Brigid & Apollo

The right bonds of delighted gods

Shod by knowledgeable blondes

Empathy responds to enthrone

Adversaries’ neurones fond

They shall abundantly prove

You’ve imputed my canal

Us, et. al., the karmic breath

Of death, shortened by a pal

He, who speaks, to the deeds told by their own plots, stands apart, alone

So: I’m sure, if you take care to an idea, not a man, to own

Yes, you reap, in a witness, over all else, such an ire, bestirred

Real, upon, little friendships, goddess Brigid, shouts of life, there spurred


2. Apollo & Mercury

In darkness and inside of fate, the same does teem:

Thirst for blotted curses, shattered follies by theme

Appear into the heap of things deduced by night

The embrace of mind’s emergency, its ignite

Renders barren by comparison other spurs

Which melt away like bees inside the sun’s chauffeur

Brought closer than the lamp it statutes, as a kiln

A precept of broad guarantee that’s a ceiling

Of its own commandments unto life, from filth and dross

Gold circle, Heaven’s coin, embalming pests across

Broomsticks’ fibers, as they sweep, like the star, sky-spun

Only Mercury… you are so close to the sun!

Woe is I, for the youth of my joke about me

At least I can laugh, myself, the great Mercury

Your storehouse of idols leaves you kindred with rain:

Always falling further from Elysium’s drain

Tumbling and stumbling apart of singing

Serious is life, dear friend of often wringing

Cloth, the stretching dry pastures are for ignorance

Me, I cannot clade ‘tween sober and timorous!

I suppose you think that better minds did not hold

Out their forsaken and brave tongues to there unfold

The wings of secret supplications, our elders

Overwhelmed me with truth so much, there beheld a

Paragon of satisfying logic, reason

Pleasantness then is intellectual treason?

Hear my cry, I believe you’ve declared for yourself

A hobgoblin’s worth of autonomy, an elf

-sized parcel astronomy, to me, Mercury

I’m a planet you need your own ideas to see!

So beautiful the capacity for wonder

When it is housed inside of, on top of, under

Consciousness unguarded by forbears, a child’s dawn

What else does a child see but their own thinking’s spawn?


3. Diviana & Apollo

Faithful, friendly, evil

Found in our deceitful

Beauty, as a bounty

Born from, mournsome county

Earth the, endless furnace

Ever, clever spurns us

To the trembling halfling

Terrorised girl, t’bring

Oh true, m’lass, molasses crass, the sweetner of

My proclamation of a better wealth above

Alike inward like bloodshed’s steward, enmity

Love is but a rivalry, corrupted and free

Just as each else independent hope does comport

The storms of liberty are ironic in thought

And right action could not contain the plea in her

Draw to me a duel, desperately, Diviana!

Thank you! Think I point blank

Theorise your lies bank

Upon utmost compost

Underneath the brain lost

Shadows show a minnow

Shunting brunts to e’er flow

Away from light, aloft:

Apollo, slow and soft!

Treacherous am I to you, in your stature’s cult

Offerings I should otherwise make, lest insult

The beautiful Diviana, bottled up and warm

Like a genie-goddess, praised and prized from such dorm

Because you are only as you say, when it’s spake

Wordsmith manipulatrix, please, for goodness’ sake

I long then for the bowshot, that cliches target

Well-aimed and blasé by Cupid’s deftly ambit

Broken mouths bray up paths

Because sprees of speech; maths

Paths that press, no purpose

Pointless to usurp us

Sung like smoke, for the weak

Souls’ foul fogs, driven bleak

Quaked and quietened now

Quick it sees, fairness’ vow

March my heart then through the holy home of reproach

That acquits the graying game, of blame, to encroach

Along a righteous hill, which reveals, saint or shill

May the former be so needy therefore to mill

For me a shield that reviles lies – reject, am I!

And press forward with the luminaries, truth’s ally

Is still the sun, torrents like prophets of your name

Wave through me: I heard you, I love you, all the same

4. Apollo & Aphrodite

The law sustains, you know, to assail sin

Ruthless Apollo, faint the weeping in

Yes, I do I slander: we are that vile

Humans, that is, human beings are hostile

Mankind lives in shame because they’re corrupt

Hurry, prowl and tremble in your construct

Foe or fellow, the smooth attack you wage

Aphrodite, my sister, and my sage

The two are vows upon a scroll she trusts

Streams of wind delight my righteous there-gusts

Dash me in your plots to rule my wisdom

Mine, to leave our spaceship here in Brisbane

Yes, let the dust rise as we trample down

Apart from wrath, apart from swords, peacefully

Apart from falsehood on your holy bed?

Mercy, young man, dwells in me for your head

You love for yourself mountains of glory

Servant of the truth, pray, what then of me?

Deadly ally of your own prepared cause

My heart, a weapon, true, it overawes

Itself, ha ha, scoop out your breath, like soil…

To plant new words where once the most were foul?

Tele-pathetic, vain man… God does not

Scoff at the heedless many… his main thought

Is to liberally plow away the chaff

…of the land, where souls are bailed on behalf

Of oaths to keep to Him – this is ample

To bind to white light, they… yes, to trample!

And what of exile from a mother’s womb?

You mean, Eden? Captivity’s bridegroom?

For we were meant to rejoice ourselves grace…

Merrymaking sheep are we face-to-face

Then, without the need for shepherds, or speech!

How dare you fix against God’s paradox?

His pillars uphold in the equinox

The light and dark of infants, you forget

God’s love resolves upon that basinet…

High places and blood rivers! Everything!

Strike me down, oh King, for poor worshipping!

Ironic, aren’t you, brother – or a fool!

To be loved is such a treasure that you’ll

Yourself too struggle to, yes, feel worthy

I disagree. Either way, too early

It is in the morning to covet you

And your semblance of a man to rescue


Scarcely do I know what you determine?

You’re simple, abide in your own sermon.

You know, you listen to your own counsel.

Not mine. Depart from blindness, your roundel

Of your own army. Let it see who bears

A shield for servants; let your badge repair.

Startled am I by your by your petty pity

But, fair, let’s segue, and with alacrity!

Portents of the greater weakling of two

Cowards who refuse intellect’s debut

In Philistia, show one thing rightly

Life is fragile, entrusted to the spritely…

…Its best living is – keep your child-like mirth!

For thinking shrivels luck, there, danger’s birth!

I promised, sibling, that our chat would segue

A better potsherd of words to bootleg

From smashed ruins of worms and fiery kings

ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. Aph’, I am laughing

Look at what is wanton, effortlessly

My own vindicated philosophy!


Risible, to the last! Here’s me, aghast!

That you’d fulfil your own circuit at last!

Devices from shame, my fraternal joy

Savagery’s heart in a silly boy!

Shepherd me from topic and conclusion,


What of war, then, in God’s pruned confusion?

War is shelter from the less of evils

Two, invasion by another state, still

Only lonely encampments in the mind

…Persist to redeem angst from souls too blind

But what of God, my guide, the truth of He?

On what level ground am I nominee?

Does it profit the greater good, perhaps?

A means to an end, is divine relapse

To smiting and smithing of character

Of martial plight, no more disparager

Are you, therefore; the thunders’ sanctuary

Is ever that they purge adversary!

From the pits of fake heritage and sloth


Assiduous are the tribesmen betrothed!

To the earth in arbitrary union

Justly, who can make such a reunion

Is in your opinion, those who’re of works?


If all’s from God, then whosoever shirks

Their long, worldly payment to a wonder

Can’t bridle the city or get under

…the bedrock for themelves, it’s fashioned else…

In the spite of dishonoured infidels

I see, because deceitful are the alms

Those without according religious qualms

Javelin nowhere, and their tongues do lapse

The spear of years, a steeple, then, perhaps

All glory to God, Hosanna on high

Yes, a nation’s gnash is pagan’s goodbye

Heretic’s vale and witches’ adieu


Toil then the border up, and let mileu

Nay, the idea of progress, there decide


How civilisations can, true, abide?


With civilisation itself, comes right


And righteousness, ‘pon states and their sweet flight

Away from war’s ignominy and vice


Should their law allow it, this sick device.


And so the miry cataracts of mud

Mournfully deliver us so the flood:

Leaves of a stream, deadly flow’s elation

For opaque, forgotten truths of nation

Do you like my poem? It occludes light…

Where light’s gladness to slaughter’s steady blight?

Sure, the rough foam of waters should not view

So easily, like arrows one hath drew

To fire the botany up the mangroves

Instead, they flow, the leaves, for fish and loaves

Slow, helpless, asleep… following orders

The pomp of freer men in wrought borders

Contrite to nothing, abundant in bones

Oh, willing mischief, in rich ransom’s zones

A companion that does injure, my strife

Where once was mere bitter crooks, or a wife

Languished on my shares, are now fatal knaves

To battle I would tribute me a slave!

Indignation notwithstanding, because

My zeal for moons to make of good near draws

As quick as phantoms moan for lymph and grist

I’ll only for the side of good, enlist!

Settle me then our mediation here

That soldiers’ footprints muse a civil sphere

And faithless folk forever sound a harp

Strung by taunting subjects with their knives sharp

Then warrior-kings have never ceased rule

In twenty twenty two, praise then a duel

Between two despots, or three or some more


One decree against the other, each corps

A story of psychopaths, princes and


Princesses, prolonging odes to expand

Highways to Abaddon steadfastly trod


At least we have lasers. Praise be to God.


That’s blasphemy, that you’re ashamed to speak!


No, the parapet of aeons, little weak

It is, for its calm, withering wuther

An erosion by a breeze to smother

That which cannot maintain: evolution

God of ruined hand and no ablution

By another, more interfering beau

I stoned Moses, sired maths, me, Apollo

What an orphan of greater men you are!

Bleeding sap like vanity’s abbatoir

Ashen and forested, cut and stubborn

Gladdened like the animals’ discussion

Over who could be the wildest creature

Stodgily proceeding, help me, teacher

What is virtue but a resolution?

This, in tomorrow’s circumlocution.

5. Merertha & Hecate


The years’ caducity, t’ve created;

Sired civilisations… ill-fated

Woe spawn of crags and molten false ruin

Each mother’s law that ached to generate

All the coded streams, your souls grew in

To shun the reign of flogging day’s estate

To play thief unto the chaos of night

Who am I? Charon? Such pod-seat t’alight!

Shunned us, you did, nameless, matron, to strife, therefrom, ought then, to gush?

Each formed, culture, deep pit, to comb, and crave, and lap, like love’s frail touch?

Alack! Quarrel! I yield, ’tis I, Hecate, the lame, and tame, the ruptured sooth!

T’pluck! My harp! So keeled, from gust, the breath of eve, by caller’s sleuth!

Appellant, do not fret, fear or fright…

Praise the bulls of progress, hatched aloud
…by I… cleanse your censor of teeth to chat’
Insofar as dwelt indoors the heart,
Are peace, vacancies of evil that

Shake like walls in Richter’s rage apart;

You’ve kept your promise to me, to smoke

Sweet haze from glowing tribes she stoked.

It’s love then, she! Aflame the sear, embers cooked then, upon a grin!

Hence feet arrive at yours to kiss, like mobster’s bliss, such this, chagrin!

Where were you when times were testing? Wherefore ye when hell romped jester?

Frisk and frolic like extra-terrestrial bluster, missed ya, M’rertha!|

What missive muzzles dazzling dith’ring?

Complaint! Wing-spanning angel’s prison!

Fleeting was a hope of mine to etch

Without the edifice of scorn – Earth

A narrative of faint euphor-‘ia
The scourge of cosmos’ barren, bland girth
Evil entropy endlessly a…

Sailcloth for Charon’s boat – live, you must!

Such shade the dark, the oily snap, a cam-er-a, a chimera

The phantasm, evil’s bosom, the never-realised ‘ism’s aura,

I give in a, tiny tad as since, being is brief well, spoken thus you,
Merertha, what do you think will happen to us, and our milieu?