The Scribes 2 : Releasing the Primal

The Scribes 2:  Releasing the Primal

14 December 2016

bluegreenloss deviantart com deep_songs_by_elreviae-d5x1kil
Courtesy elreviae on deviantart.com

 

Scribe 23 was holding a locket that belonged to her Master and had been sent to her through his representatives. It was attached to a gold chain that had hung from her Master’s neck and was now swinging around her own. In the locket were inscribed the words invocatio and opposite the words there was a tiny vial that contained a few drops of the blood of the first Master, Elohim, who had passed the locket on to his first disciple Gabriel. She played around with the locket nervously while pondering whether her Master would deem it was the Time to leave yet and join him. Outside, in the outline of the sky, she could guess the dawn arriving but the city was still sleeping.

 

In one swift movement, she leapt out of the window and flew to the nearest building. She had first been exhilarated about having acquired this new skill but now it was getting tedious as she had to keep using the energy to do that. She had conjured items with too many usage times for the city and nobody needed anything anymore so she had to reduce the overflowing energy floating around so as to avoid the fate of those who had imploded. Throughout the years too much energy had accumulated within her as she had conjured very often and people had rewarded her immensely with their flow.

 

Perched on the top of the nearby building, she observed her own dwelling lying several meters below. She knew that she was not supposed to as they were essentially nomads but she had grown fond of this dwelling where she had stayed longer than with the others. Despite her attachment to it, she knew though that in an instant she would leave it if the Time did come. She wondered when the Master would summon her and why it was that his teachings had only been from afar unlike how it was for all the other Master-disciple relationships. Ever since the first time he had transferred half of his energy to her, it had been a period of enchantment going from one discovery to another but she had always wondered why he had not simply come into her life openly. Yet she could hardly complain as he accompanied her every step and watched over her at every moment, giving her guidance on every small matter she required assistance on.

 

Scribe 23 floated down from the building and walked back to the entrance of her dwelling. Dawn submerged the horizons in a growing light until she could slowly feel the sun rising behind her, its warmth slowly invading her back. She turned and gazed at it wondering at its amazing energy that they could harvest from so far away. What most of the population did not know was that the Scribes actually did not need the Earth conduits or the star gazers to derive the energy for the Conjuring. In fact, most Scribes actually were able to harness both energies themselves but they chose not to do it most of the time as they collected too much of it at a time. One of the rare times the Scribes would harness both energies was when they were making a disciple because that was the only way to create the Bond, which was the sacred link that tied a Master to his/her disciple and through which all the teachings were enhanced.

 

The dwelling in front of her was also waking up like the city behind her which had turned from sleepy to bustling in barely a few minutes. She knew she could no longer float to the balcony now but would have to walk upstairs if she wanted to watch the rising sun. She felt her Master beside her and greeted him. He greeted her back addressing her as Master too which was another oddity in this Master-disciple relationship. When she had asked him about it, his answer had been that she already was what he was preparing her to be. The answer had puzzled her but so had many things with her Master and she had learnt to accept the apparent contradiction and not push further than he was willing to go.

 

He smiled noticing her confused mood and made her understand that it would soon be the Time. When, she asked excitedly and he responded just a little over a fortnight. He made her understand that they would need the contents of the locket and they would need to perform the Conjuring together to release the Primal for the birth of the second sun. Would a second sun not fully scorch the Earth, she asked but he merely laughed off her question. She wondered what it would be like to have a second sun warming the Earth as he left her temporarily to perform some other task. She pondered that perhaps a second sun would finish off the remaining life on Earth as the heat would then become too intense.

 

He was back with her as she walked up the stairs and back to her room, onto the balcony where they both watched the rising sun. In over a fortnight, together they would be releasing the Primal. She wondered what that meant really but consoled herself with the fact that soon enough she would know.

 

bluegreenloss deviantart com jupiter_rising_by_flewdesigns-d72f3vl
Courtesy Flewdesigns on deviantart.com

 

Wings of Gabriel – Arcana

Someone else’s dream – Avi Rosenfeld

Far Away – Diana Boncheva

 

The Scribes 1: Conjuring the Manifestation

The Scribes 1: Conjuring the Manifestation

12 December 2016

desert-ruins-pinterest-com-2
Courtesy pinterest.com

 

In a distant future, humanity has lost the capacity of producing anything. Paper money is a thing of the past and anything one needs can only be conjured up through the power of intention, it cannot be made. Unfortunately, most of the population having just been conditioned to picking what they need from what was mass produced in the past, they have lost the capacity of thinking and even more of dreaming and visualising so are unable to conjure up anything they would need to have.

 

The world population resorts to a group of creative people who have kept the capacity of thinking and are particularly skilled in conjuring up with their thoughts, which are powerfully channeled in a very precise manner, what the population needs in a ceremony called the Conjuring. This group of people are called the Scribes as they write down what is termed as the Manifestation, a detailed description of a series of images related to their thoughts during the Conjuring and these can be used a limited number of times to manifest similar items elsewhere.

 

The ink used by the Scribes is a very special ink manifested from their thoughts that fades away when the writings have been used a certain number of times and it is impossible to remember the sequence of words used, making it impossible to replicate the item beyond the intended number of times the Scribes have created the Manifestation for. When the Conjuring is attempted by anyone who is not a Scribe based on incorrectly memorized versions of the Manifestation, the person attempting the fake ceremony meets a deadly fate.

 

The population compensates the Scribes in energy which can be energy channeled from the stars or the Earth or simply life force energy depending on whether the population belongs to the star gazers or Earth conduits or to neither of these two factions. This energy is in turn used as a fuel by the Scribes to manifest their creative intent. Some scribes are so talented in their Manifestations that they are particularly sought after and compensated heavily making their energetic storage so immense that they are able to conjure up all kinds of intricate items effortlessly.

 

The Scribes do not offer courses on conjuring but decide from time to time to have a disciple who is taught the skill of conjuring as well as how to write the description of the images used in the ceremony. Often, the disciple is a member of their own family although sometimes, when they are childless, they may take a person from the general population. During the time the disciple is an apprentice and especially if he/she did not possess the skill of Manifesting by birthright, the disciple must act as a channel and a source of secondary energy when the portion of the population requiring a specific item is not able to compensate the Scribe appropriately with the right quantity of energy during the conjuring. After the ceremony, the disciple then waits with the population for a week receiving restorative energy from them before joining the Scribe who has moved on to another place where conjuring is required.

 

Nobody knows how the Scribes managed to keep their capability of conjuring up the thoughts that allowed the creation of the items required and nobody knows how they are raised and what they are taught exactly as it is a well-guarded secret. None of the population is capable either of assessing just how much energy has been harnessed by the Scribes. On occasion one or two Scribes would have gathered so much energy and not being able to use it because nothing was required in their surroundings, they simply imploded into balls of fire, igniting the whole neighbourhood during their combustion. For this reason, the Scribes are always on the move and never stay in the same place too long except if their services are extensively required.

 

The Key to the Universe (Dance of the Sacred Union) – Stellar

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aP96gYlbtK4

J’ai mémoire d’une chanson fredonnée en histoire / I remember a song hummed low in history

J’ai mémoire d’une chanson fredonnée en histoire

(poème écrit sous forme de sonnet Shakespearien en vers Alexandrin, traduit en anglais ci-dessous ou ici)

10 décembre 2016

remember-youtube-com
Courtesy youtube.com

 

Au-delà de ces mots résonne pâle l’intention

De mesure démesure en vase clos d’atrophie

Taille à vif dans ces maux de douleur l’attention

En deçà de l’usure veine assure embolie

 

Reste-t-il dans ces prés des chevaux à nourrir ?

Les barrières ruminant tas de foin à cracher

Vouent au ciel les cyprès pris au fait à pourrir

Vois ces arbres nonchalants de hauteur s’arracher

 

Abrités dans sapin oiseaux tardent à mourir

Justes cieux balayant horizons intrépides

Senteurs froides d’un matin lèvres gercées s’ouvrir

Un chemin déblayant des non-dits insipides

 

J’ai mémoire d’une chanson fredonnée en histoire

D’émérite de pardon filant droit en déboire

 

Lecture du poème: 

remember-cinemag-gr
Courtesy cinemag.gr

 

I remember a song hummed low in history

(Poem originally written in Shakespearian sonnet in Alexandrin, translated into English. See original above or here)

10 December 2016

remember-pinterest-com-2

 

Way beyond these words pale intention resonates

Out of measure in a closed cup of atrophy

Cutting sharp in these woes attention to the pain

Well below the wearing vein ensures embolism

 

Are there in these meadows any horses to feed?

Barriers ruminate a stack of hay to spit

Vow to skies cypresses found guilty of rotting

See these nonchalant trees from the heights tear away

 

Sheltered in the fir tree birds keep delaying Death

Righteous skies sweeping intrepid horizons

Cold scents of a morning the chapped lips opening

For clearing a pathway of the tasteless unsaid

 

I remember a song hummed low in history

Emeritus pardon spinning straight in trouble

 

Reading of the poem: 

remember-sky-com
Courtesy sky.com

Ostanus – 312

 

What relates Kafka to DEWA ?

What relates Kafka to DEWA ?

10 December 2016

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While the world is falling apart to be better rebuilt and we are hopefully moving to a new really more sustainable economic system which will unfortunately not come without some heartaches, my own personal woes continue thanks to DEWA amongst others.

 

You might have read about the beginning of the problem where I initially thought that there must be a leakage because the alternate possibility simply seemed so absurd that it did not cross my mind at the time. If you have not, you can go ahead and read it here  https://geethabalvannanathan.com/real-life-experiences/a-sign-of-the-rampant-hypocrisy-that-plagues-our-world-unsustainable-sustainability/

 

In reality, it seems it was the absurd situation which was in line with the reality of the matter.

The truth of the matter is that since early summer 2016 after an unexpected visit of a DEWA employee who questioned my helper about how come we had such a big garden with a limited consumption of water (to which she had answered that we had a boring well but he simply did not seem satisfied with the answer), a new meter was installed. Since that meter was installed, the June 2016 readings of my water meter plummeted from their usual readings of 3,000 – 6,000 imperial gallons to a sky rocketing 50,000 to 80,000 imperial gallons. Yes, you have read it well, slight more than ten times the initial amounts.

 

Having gone several times to complain at the main office after unsatisfactory results of online complaints, I kept getting the same result month after month with bills for water ranging between 50,000 IG and 80,000 IG something that is only possible if water is flowing out on the streets uncontrollably, which it is obviously not. The complaints render no useful conclusion but DEWA keeps warning me and reminding me to pay up or else they will simply cut the water and electricity supply – which they actually did once as I only paid half the bill (which in itself was overpaying what I should have paid in reality). All in all, DEWA has charged me in 5 months from June to October for around 240,000 Imperial gallons or over 1,000,000 (yes one million) liters of water while we use sparingly the water in our house and only for showering and toilets because we water the garden with a boring well and drink bottled water, not tap water.

 

The last employee dispatched after the last online complaint snoops around the property trying to spot some leakage which he is visibly hoping he can pounce upon in order to justify the ridiculous amount of gallons that are being billed to me by DEWA. He seems very disconsolate to see that there is no water leakage and his gaze is met by only dry desert sand, as dry now as my faith in such employee readings of the water meter. To conclude the matter, he addresses my helper and me with a resounding “This is Dubai. If you are not happy, go back to your country”. Well this is not what Dubai had got me used to. I have been living in this country for around 10 years now and this year is the first year that I notice people behaving in such a way. It seems like the “go home attitude” seems to be spreading all over the world as people seem to find it as the ultimate problem solver to all problems within their lands.

 

Upon taking a picture of my water meter and tweeting about it and getting various responses, I decide that perhaps the main DEWA office can help dissolve this misunderstanding by reading the meter as it cannot possibly be the case that I have consumed 326,181 Imperial gallons as the employees seem to be reading it (the picture relates to the month of November reading and if read by them in that way would mean that barely a month later after I was billed, I succeeded in consuming 80,000 Imperial gallons or 400,000 liters of water, lol. If it were not so dramatic because of the undue billing that is eating away at my bank account, it would be hilarious) but the DEWA main office employees say it is pointless to show them the photograph of the water meter because they do not know how to read a water meter (sic!). There is a small department in a far away office that reads the meter and DEWA simply takes that reading and puts it into the system so that your bill is generated. They practice no oversight over the readings but take them for granted.

 

Now where it gets really absurd is when, despite the ridiculously high reading you still pay half the bill while waiting for the complaint to reach some perhaps finally satisfactory conclusion after 5-6 months of pointless going back and forth and trying to find a solution, you are told that you better pay the full bill failing which your supply will simply be cut.

Kafka could not have done better in creating a more absurd situation….

 

My Master my Slave

My Master my Slave

9 December 2016

masterslave-deviantart-com_devadevil-d59xkss
Courtesy Devadevil on deviantart.com

 

Crossing gates

Of purgatory

The lives held

In barbed wire

The breath through which we expire

Kindling a new fire

 

Sustenance

More than mere penance

My backbone

Marble stone

Holding through stormy weathers

Loss of my feathers

 

We carve path

In cloud-rimmed blue skies

Where dark creed

Count the spies

They gather around the lies

Their fear unending

 

Surrendering

The only option

Giving in

Cloaked and thin

The source errors wanton glitch

Correctional twitch

 

Leitmotiv

Elevator pitch

I quote Heart

Sing bloodlines

Of all from which we are rich

Before sunset switch

 

He calls me

My Master my Slave

As we pave

A New World

Building with all that was hurled

The oncoming Wave

 

Reading of the poem: 

masterslave-deviantart-com-_zombieoverlord-d1qacax-2
Courtesy deviantart.com

The Inferno – Emma Shapplin

The Lovers – Emma Shapplin

Nothing Wrong – Emma Shapplin

 

Splinters of the Heart

Splinters of the Heart

7 December 2016

immortal-medchrome-com
Courtesy medchrome.com

 

We gather

Sceneries in woods

Of the mind

That remind

Of days gone by walking through

The thick and the thin

 

Like gardens

Hanging on the edge

Of a cliff

Amidst riff

Panoramic views submerge

Growing of the urge

 

Oblivion

An eight letter word

Becomes herd

That refrain

From the expression of pain

Their bodies corpses

 

The dark crawl

Dead embers ashes

Light flashes

Not within

Their lack of feelings akin

To breath of undead

 

Sorrowed lead

Plastered smiles in white

The empaths

Faith in light

Keeping Hope through Times that smite

Words that decompose

 

Recompose

Splinters of the Heart

There are ways

Etched in Soul

Knowledge of how you are whole

Beyond the fences

 

Reading of the poem: 

fences-pinterest-com-5
Courtesy pinterest.com

Just for You – Giovanni Marradi

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6cteNmmsMA4

Rewinding the clocks

Rewinding the clocks

2 December 2016

 

opposites fiela__the_ruler_of_space_and_time_regular_by_aniamitura-d7aduio
Courtesy aniamitura on deviantart.com

 

Tick me strikes

Clock me from afar

Withered hands

Grasping Time

Gone though we have come this far

Ending in blind war

 

You paint me

In feathers and tar

The joke spent

The dream dreamt

I have no reason to sleep

Eyes express dissent

 

Blazing rays

Ignite fading scar

Is this all

That we are

The eyelids scorching now weep

For more we were meant

 

You raised me

In black chains kingdom

The mind stilled

Overkilled

Paper joys and lies distilled

Like venom of dark

 

Hidden spark

A love shining bright

Heart’s delight

Out of sight

Ringing through my brittle night

Cradle for the right

 

Hark now hear

The oncoming rust

Red powder

Speaks louder

Voices nearer to the crust

The rumble now clear

 

Nurtured talks

My flailing embers

Bringing flame

To my name

Sacrifice the worthy’s fame

Rewinding the clocks

 

Reading of the poem: 

nighttimedress pinterest com
Courtesy pinterest.com

War – Poets of the Fall

Dreaming Wide Awake – Poets of the Fall

Locking up the Sun – Poets of the Fall

Choice Millionaire – Poets of the Fall

Cradled in Love – Poets of the Fall

Carnival of Rust – Poets of the Fall

Rebirth – Poets of the Fall

 

 

The Time Traveler

The Time Traveler

1 December 2016

timetraveler-lyse-marion-ego-alterego-com
Courtesy ego-alterego.com

 

Walking through shadows

Of thoughts trains interwoven

Full lengths of stations

 

The breath he borrows

My lungs in his chest swollen

Death’s inclinations

 

The pain that furrows

My heart’s in his beats stolen

Borders through nations

 

The wizard’s cellar

With wine of yesterday reeked

As we held banquet

 

Mood interstellar

Through the sliding holes we peeked

His chain my anklet

 

The Time Traveler

Love that twixt the bubbles peaked

His fire my blanket

 

Reading of the poem: 

Sacred Union #1 - from Astral Travel series.
Courtesy photoshelter.com

Cranes crying – Vitas

Pocelui (A kiss as long as Eternity) – Vitas

Aria – Vitas

Lucia di Lammermoor – Vitas

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aKQ93v5NESw