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The Cathedral of Winged Epiphany

A Collective Tribute to the Grace of the Mind

6/25/06 09:22 pm - morbidrequiem - New To The Community...

I found this community through it's sister community Lucifer's Shadow. After reading the description of this community I felt I must join because its philosophies speak to me in a profound way. To discover ones wings, ones path, ones purpose. To find and learn and ascend...this interests me and makes me eager to learn from those who are a part of this group.

Blessed Be...

10/21/05 02:34 am - cat_the_knife - The Weaver and the Shadow

So this has been sitting up in my head for a little while collecting dust, but tonight I felt inclined for reasons unknown to take the Weaver's body and place within it a beating heart of sorts. Some of you will probably even recognize Malloreth. He never really does stay gone for long, does he.

~~~~~~~


In the darkest room of the most distant castle in a land none of us has ever seen, for it exists beyond the edge of even our wildest dreams, sits one whose purpose it is to weave. On her Loom of Days she has given birth to the lives of heroes and to the folly of kings in interlocking silken fingers of purple and carmine. She has even conceived of the trials of the lowly in skeins of coarse grey and brown, shot through with slim threads of cornflower blue. As it often is with those whose purpose is all-encompassing and poignant, she has no true memory... except for some nights. Those very same nights when the candles burn low, the shadows grow long, and the cold learns to breathe.

Those are the nights when he comes for tea. The one with the mirror speech and those shapeless, sighing, coal-black wings. Those are the nights, like this one, when he comes to light candles for the Weaver. This night, from his usual place in the green velvet chair that always seem to sit in shadow, he tells her he adores her latest work, the tapestry that is a dance in hunter, alizarin, and lapis. The tapestry that tells the story of Atlantis. The masterpiece that, when the time is right, she plans to hang on the wall so that all men will know and understand. She will hang it alongside the rusty orange one that taught us of fire and all its properties so long ago, and slightly below the cherry blossom pink one that so faithfully records the life of Buddha. He tells her that he would like to tell her a secret, and she closes her eyes and listens with her mind.

He tells her he'd like her to know where her inspiration comes from. He tells her he'd like to introduce her to her Shadow. Shadow, he tells her, is that voiceless one that lives in the looking glass, and masquerades as her reflection in the morning when she is braiding her hair and tying her ribbons.... as the shape she casts upon the cobble stones when she walks in her rose garden early in the morning. All of them, he says, have Shadows as well, but they can not see. They won't see. Sometimes they hear, but only when they close their eyes and open their minds, and so few of them can do even that.

The Shadows sing in the sudden bursts of inspiration that come through as dreams, and the Shadows whisper answers to questions in the blue-grey hallway they travel in nineteen steps on the journey to the gates of Elysium. They see them only as reflections of themselves, because they want to believe that their creations and their epiphanies are their own. What they do not see is the way their reflections put their hands over their ears and scream in soul-crushing frustration when they turn their backs on the looking glass.

She gave you a carnation the night before you embroidered the roses on Queen Elizabeth's bodice. She gave you a lump of coal the night before you painted the blood stains on Brutus's dagger. See her now.


In meeting Shadow, the Weaver meets the Muse. She is me yet not me, thinks she. She is that part of me that shows up in other ways.... as reflections, as shadows cast, as footprints, as echos, as frozen breath. She is that part of all of ourselves we spend our entire lives searching for, yet never quite come to know.

Have you really never noticed how bloody her hands are from beating them against the other side of that looking glass? Did you want that badly to believe these dreams were yours? Don't you know that the more one's creations change those they touch, the more frustrated one's Shadow becomes with her voicelessness? See her.


So now she understands. She sleeps.... and he is gone again.

In the morning, when she wakes, the Weaver goes to the Garden, cuts a single white rose, and tucks it underneath her belt. Upon returning to the darkest room in that most distant castle, she walks to the looking glass, brushes and braids her hair as is her daily custom, and then carefully chooses her ribbons in preparation for the day's work before the Loom of Days. However, this time before she turns her back, for reasons she knows not, she takes the white rose from her belt and leaves it on the vanity before the looking glass.

The Weaver and the Shadow ~ © 2005 Shannon Hilson

7/14/05 09:26 pm - cat_the_knife - Neptune's Concubine

Last night
The heavens caught fire.
Each planet and star
Was seduced by the treacherous Earth
And each in turn died in flame
Attempting to possess her.

From this destruction
Neptune alone was spared.
And he smothered us all
With an oblivion cape
All tied up in tide
And hung with mermaids.

Last night
I slept on a tall, sugary cake
That was being blown
This way and that
By the twentieth wind.
And I dreamed.

I dreamed
Of being rocked to sleep
By divine arms that smelled of rain.
And I dreamed
Of falling to the ground
And becoming the ocean's disciple.

Last night
I died and it felt familiar.
I smothered quietly in marzipan
And misty blue breaths that choked.
I sang a song of nautilus shells.
I learned a tale of universal law.

And all this time I lay still
Upon the back of the plum cake.
He held me as I wove a tapestry
Of hungry planets
And immortal assassins.
He held me as I dreamed on.

6/17/05 05:38 pm - danman3142004 - Love as a Drug or A Fiend for Hire

By Dan Snodgrass

I'm itchin' for a taste,
Can't keep my mind off the beast.

I get a hit from the caress of your lips.
I get my fix for less than Smack or Cocaine.

It's faster than speed....trippier than LSD. More
Electric
Than Wolfe's Kool-Aid Acid Test

It's you,
You're Mine!
All Mine, my drug!

Your touch makes me shiver...to look at you makes me

FIEND...

Can't keep my mind off you, Babe.....Can't Keep my mind off the Beast

Cause I'm itchin' for a taste of your love....

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I Talked to a Friend Today

He said nu uh
I said I did
He asked me if I meant it
I said I did
He asked me what it felt like
I told him Electric
He asked how much it cost
I told him Less than a Penny, but more than a lifetime
He said nothing in life is free
I said If you look in the right place it is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Solstace

I sat with the stars tonight

They told me their secrets.

The thoughts no one has had...

The mysteries left unsolved...

They told me they loved me.

They filled my head with lies.



I sat with the Buddha and he said,

"if you speak and act with a polluted mind,

Suffering will follow you, as the wheels

Follow the footsteps of the Ox,

If you speak and act with a pure mind,

Happiness will follow you, as a shadow clings to a form."

I walked away satisfied, but empty.



I went and sat with Rilke and

He gave me food and drink.

He said, "One earthly thing

Truly experienced is enough

For a lifetime."

I thought and moved onward.



I stood at the temple steps

Afraid to walk up when a man

Approached me with a novelty T-shirt

That read, " A painting of a rice cake

Does not satisfy hunger."



I climbed the mountainous steps,

Burnt by the thoughts in my mind.

Thinking, "Must it be? It must be."

As Beethoven.

I nearly fainted saying," I can't go on,

You must go on, I'll go on." As Beckett.

Thinking that this is the answer to the age old question

"When the many are reduced to one,

To what is the one reduced?"

I reached the throne and there sat a man whose

Crown and Robes were drenched in Blood

He said, "Lift the stone and you will find Me:

Cleave the wood and I am there."



I walked with GOD in the fields of eternity

"Consider the lillies of the field," He told me.

"How they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin;

And Yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all

His glory was not arrayed like one of these."

And I found peace in the House of the Father.

3/16/05 01:26 am - smashingmud

my name is michelle, i'm 23 and a libra, hailing from the eastern u.s. okay, where shall i begin? well i've had dreams about demons for several years, in these dreams (as well as other dreams) i have wings and a white light comes out of me, which chases the demons away. i've always believed in God, however i wasn't the christian i should have been. i've always been interested in the occult, and that's where it really begins.
i aquired a homemade ouija board (august 2004) from my boyfriend (now husband) and to my amazement it worked quite well. i befriended a demon that claimed that he wanted to repent and loved me. at that time i could feel him but not see or hear. i loved him too, he talked with me everyday. he told me aggressive ones were after me at times and that i should use my white light on them. sooo, one day he's like "beware, angel. . ." and i then had the pleasure or displeasure rather of meeting lucifer. i was immediately under his spell. i was highly curious, yet afraid. i almost gave myself over to him actually, but God didn't let that happen, not completely anyways. lucifer was facinated by the fact that i thought he should repent, and told me he would try. he said that i'm a light bearing angel like him and in fact his lost love lilith. naturally this freaked me out. but i was drawn in by him and talked to him everyday and fell in love with him. we made love, shared secrets, and dreamed together. i developed the ability to see him and hear him without the ouija board. actually once i saw him coporially. he's very big and of course has wings, dark curly hair and big blue eyes. he's very handsome. one side anyways. he has another side that's red and has goat horns, like the sterotypical devil. like his appearance he seemed to have a split personality, one side acts like he is sorry and loves God and one wants to be God. he entered and still enters my dreams all the time. for the longest time he acted like he wanted to be a good angel, but i'm not so sure about that. anyways, he claims that he's in love with me. we actually married astrally. i found out that my element is air, my number 9, my planet venus, and my direction east, all like him. all this time i never wanted to be evil or going against God almighty, and lucifer claimed that's why he loves me so very much. he actually encouraged me alot of the time to be Gods and Jesus' child. however other times he asked me for my soul (and still does). Finally, God brought me to my senses when i had a panic attack, that i feel sure lucifer brought on. he said it was to test my faith in God, it felt like i was being killed. i prayed to the most high God to save me, and he did. i've since became a devout follower of Christ, and i've never been so happy ever. i'm so unworthy, yet he showed me mercy. this experience ironically brought me closer to God. Father works miracles in my life daily. lucifer, however, remains with me, as a test of faith i guess or perhaps b/c i married him. he says i'm his queen and godess and that he'll never go, even if i am going home to Christ in the end. lucifer said that is what he wanted, because he loves me. of course he could be lieing. never the less God is protecting me from the mighty armies of hell. hell is a very real place, don't be fooled. fallen angels are very real, and i pity them. i pray for them and us. i'm not sure how to feel about lucifer, i do know he's evil, yet there's still a place for him in my heart, and does enjoy hurting people, please do not give yourselves to him. perhaps he does have a loving side, he claims to anyways, but he'll never be the angel he once was until he gives up this futile fight against our Father. i know this world hurts, but you can find peace through God and His precious son Jesus Christ. please give them a chance, they laid it upon my heart to write this testimony to you, if it wasn't for them i would not be here telling you this. the end is at hand, repent and be children of the most high God, for he is the one that instills light and love with in us.
love
your local heavenly messenger
michelle

3/9/05 07:32 pm - danman3142004 - Torn Diary

Sacrifice, Inside.
Can't learn all the answers.
Retry, Behind the lies.
Call out the imposters.
Authority, Defy.
Yelling bravely to yourself.
Dig deep, Nulify.
The time has come.

Live free!
Only Hell can bring you down.
Live outside,
Then you'll find,
Your enemy in me.

Take chance, Harmonize.
Listen to the questions.
Hide fear, In your eyes.
Recall all the beatings.
Shattered mind, Broken self.
Diary of stolen lies.
Dig deep, then you'l find.
All the answers you're craving.

Broken, left in the gutters of my...
Broken, swirling in the sewers of my...
Shattered, lying broken on the...
Shattered, shards of the past of my...

MEMORY!

2/28/05 03:57 pm - oldschoolweapon - Do any of you have their own answers to the 2 questions?

Before 5th Century BCE, the planet Mercury actually had two names, as it was not realized it could alternately appear on one side of the Sun and then the other. Mercury was called Mercury when in the evening sky, but was known as Apollo when it appeared in the morning. Pythagoras is credited for pointing out that they were one and the same.

Pythagoras answered the two questions as follows. Please give your own answer if you can. I'm interested in seeing what you think.

Question: "What is wisest?" Answer: "Number";

Question:"What is truest?" Answer: "Most men are bad."


YOUR ANSWERS HERE"

Question: "What is wisest?" Answer:

Question:"What is truest?" Answer:

2/9/05 02:11 am - cat_the_knife - Perfect Concentric Circles

You would think that with aspects of your life that hold great significance, you would never forget the beginning.... the point at which you clicked over from that to this. Not so. The more at home you feel in your new skin, the harder it is to remember when you put it on in the first place.

Just out of my sight.... over there on the left... I saw your shadow for just a split second and I heard it breathing.


In pondering why exactly that is, I begin to feel that perhaps there are no beginnings with these things. Perhaps these are the things that always were.... breathing quietly there in our blind spots just waiting to be born. Why else would I remember the day but not the beginning?

Do you really think these things just happen.... that ivy grows in perfect concentric circles by sheer force of will?


At times here on this journey, I feel like I am going to Oz more for the journey than the destination. I feel like there may be something I feel I need, but am somehow going to find that I had with me all along when I finally get where I'm going.

I let you walk behind me and pick up the feathers that fall from my broken wings because I know you will use them to make something beautiful.

1/31/05 11:40 am - dragonfly_sidhe - Today

My friend wrote this, and it seemed appropriate to share in this forum.

Today

This day.... is mine.
So I will lay seige unto it.

I will wrestle it by the throat,
and coherse it into doing my will.
I will not be bound by rules and regulations,
nor adhere to conformity of any kind.
I shall devour every bit of flesh it offers,
and leave the bones for reminiscening.

I will make this day my own.

I refuse to slip silently from this life.
And when I lay my head down to sleep,
I will dream of the meal tomorrow promises.
When I awaken,

I will grab it by the throat again and say...

This day is mine.

--Scott McKee Adair

1/8/05 08:54 pm - cat_the_knife - The Thirteenth Hour

It is not something
That can be tied
Pulled to you with a rope.
Nor laced and bound
To feel its own every breath.
You can not lay it on crust
And taste it like lemon epiphany.

You can not steer it
By turning the wheel this way and that.
Nor can you feel it
By running your hand
Along the wallpaper's edge
In the middle of the night.
It is made up of tinsel particles
That only appear after the thirteenth hour.

A nicotine fit
A sour apple dream
An oblivion kit
A kiwi ermine scream

A cutlass blade
A bottomless well
A peacock shade
A pathos bell

It is all and nothing.
It is both then and when.
It is the why and the how.
It is the here and now.

It is the snow pepper future.
It is the black cherry past.
It is diamond lust glory.
It is every man's story.

~Cross-posted in nightdaydreamer~
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