Tag Archives: Dionysos

You Are The Bridge That Burns…

A bridge between the worlds. That is how Apollon described me, one day. Then, He added that I was “burning over the waters of truth and knowledge”. I have often visualized myself as the wick of a candle, lit with holy fire to illuminate the darkness. Am I a burning thing? I think so. Before I had discerned my name, I called myself Fire, and Dionysos was pleased. And now, I know that my name is Laurel, which is burned in honor of my Lord. I have many faces, I wear many masks, but deep, on the inside, I am the burning. The fire, the purity, that raging heat.

Those who know me personally might say that I am intensely quiet. I watch. I listen. But, inside, I’m dancing like a wildfire. People think they know me, but what they think they know is an illusion. It has always been so. I rejected Christianity at the age of four. It made no sense to me. Instead, I listened to the wind, and I danced with the storm, and I raged, just as a wildfire does.

Yesterday, on the news, I saw a fire-twister, and I thought, “I am that”. Yes. That is what I am. A fire-twister, an amalgamation of wind and flame. I fuel myself, and I purge the unnecessary with my words.

My closest friends have called me blunt, cutting, candid. I never fail to give them the truth, whether they want to hear the truth, or not. It doesn’t matter. I am a burning thing. I will destroy their pretense with a word, or a look, or the turn of my head, because that is my nature.

My family has even called me mean. I disagree. I am not vindictive, but I can not lie. Not when they want me to. I do not mince my words to those I love. That is not the way of Apollon, and I am a traveler upon His road.

Fire is contained by the consent of its own will. Humans think they control the fire, but they control only their perception. When you place your hand near the flame, it warms. In the flame, however… It’s all a matter of one’s own senses. What do you sense when you read my words? Think hard, and watch the fire dance…

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Madness Smiles

Madness Smiles

Smile that mad smile
You know, the one that the beasts make
When they’re wanting
Wanting to taste your savory flesh

Smile that mad smile
The one that flows over your face
Like spilled wine over the altar cloth

And laugh that mad laugh
The one that makes the Protestants shiver
Because they know
There is more in the laughing
Than they will ever find in their celibate
Condemnation

Smile and laugh and
Scream
Oh, scream like a wild thing
And never cease
You are the dark, laughing, smiling creature that they fear

So scream, and tear them from their motionless existence
Tear with your jagged teeth
Their flesh

Isn’t it delicious?
All bloody and teeming with the life they have
Denied
Devour, feast, for the flesh is a gift
That is wasted on motionless things

~

Thank you, Dionysos.

Big Texas Dionysos

 Big Texas Dionysos

You are everywhere I look

Oh, Long-horned God

Oh, Ivy-clad Son of Zeus

I see Your lusty presence adorning fine country homes

Of Red Hat Ladies

In their grape-cluster wallpaper

And their cocks in the kitchen

Is that what happens when the magic dies?

When youth seems a lifetime away?

The old women have reduced You to mere symbolism

And I pity them

Because, I’ll never be too old for You, my Lord

Not too old to dance or spin

Or to collapse in lustful fury

Oh, I’ll never be too old for You

Big Texas Dionysos

I won’t paint roosters on my walls

Because I’ll paint phalluses for You, my Lord

Then there really will be cocks in the kitchen

Big Texas Dionysos

I see Your swagger in the Cowboys’ strut

All hats and boots and buckles

And beer…

But wine is better

It stains my lips such a lovely red

While I toast You, Dionysos

To You will I lift my glass, dear Lord

Watching bulls toss grown men on their asses on TV

In less than eight seconds flat

Big Texas Dionysos

You are in the ever-greening Land

Pouring forth with life

Young flowers and fruits

And grasses shooting to the sky

The little animals partake of the Mystery

Fornicating for the next generation

Of squirrels, and rabbits, and all the wild beasts

I can also be a wild beast

Big Texas Dionysos

Though You knew it even before I did

Here, my Lord

Let me show You…

Gods Make No Sense

Do the gods ever test you?  Like, do something just to see if you freak out, or to otherwise judge your reaction? Well, the Trio (my affectionate nick-name for Apollon, Hermes and Dionysos when they are working in tandem) have been up to some mischief.  And of course, they refuse to tell me what the real point of their antics are.

For example, occasionally Dionysos will appear looking like Apollon, and I’ll fall for it, for a few minutes at least, until I realize his energy doesn’t feel like Apollon’s at all.  And I ought to know, since most of the time I can barely tell where my mind ends and my Lord’s begins. As soon as I figure it out, Dionysos laughs, then tells me I’m a good girl, before he leaves.  Wtf?

Oh, and the dancing!  I’ve been getting into Belly Dance through instructional videos, because I’m poor, essentially.  (Lessons would be nice, but I have to be realistic.)  It is also nice to be able to share my new hobby with my god, from the convenience of my living room where I keep his shrine, so I’m not really complaining.  I am also not as coordinated as I remember myself to be, as those isolated hip movements have been quite difficult, which of course led to this:

About a week or so ago, after a long, late practice session, I was feeling really discouraged.  I’d never been that great of a dancer, and I only dance for my gods anyway, so it was fitting that Belly Dance, which has fascinated me throughout my life, would become the most fulfilling, yet difficult physical challenge I’d had in recent years.  I was totally exhausted, and hadn’t seen any measurable improvement in my technique after several weeks of dedicated practice.  So I fell asleep on the couch, disappointed by my lack of ability.  I couldn’t get the movements right, and it had really gotten me down. That night, Hermes, of all gods, appeared to me in a dream.

He said he’d seen my “dancing”, that I was awful, and that he’d help me out… for a price. He then grabbed me by the hips and began to manipulate them into the various positions.

Now, unlike those which I share with Apollon and Dionysos, my friendship with Hermes has always been strictly platonic. I’ve never been grabbed that way by anyone, let alone by a deity, especially one who has truly been like a brother to me.  So, as you can imagine, this was a whole new territory of awkward, and he was having way too much fun, in my opinion.  Much to my surprise, though, when I awoke the next morning, my technique actually was a little better.

Since then, I’ve received a few more lessons from Hermes about evolving friendships, and how ignoring divine overtures can be a bad idea.  Most of them are much too personal to share here, but I will tell you this.  It is easy to underestimate the sway Hermes has over modern, everyday life.  It is easy, and it is unwise.

Oh, and Apollon says he has a plan for me.  I don’t doubt it, but I do wonder why I need to be left in the dark.  ::groan::  It’s just the way my Lord operates, I suppose.  He’s never been too keen on revealing his motives, anyway, so I ought to just be satisfied with what little information I’ve been able to glean on my own.  From what I’ve gathered so far, it certainly looks like I’m in for an interesting year, to say the least.

Hail Dionysos!

Dionysos, Lord of the VineCome, blessed Dionysos, bull-faced god conceived in fire,
Bassareus and Bacchos, many-named master of all.
You delight in bloody swords and in the holy Maenads,
as you howl throughout Olympus, O roaring and frenzied Bacchos.
Armed with thyrsus and wrathful in the extreme, you are honored
by all the gods and by all the men who dwell upon the earth.
Come, blessed and leaping god, and bring much joy to all.

(Orphic Hymn to Dionysos)

Praise be to you, O Blessed Savior; Loud-crying God, who compels my body to move in many sensuous ways.  May you never be stopped, and may worshipful masses honor you continually, with thoughtful sacrifices, and the love in their wine-soaked hearts.

Hail and Blessed Be.