Poems Poem by Steve Trimmer

Author’s Note (revised)

Author’s Introduction


For several years, my dream has been to write and be published. I wished to share my love of poetry, mythology and historical scholarship with the world. It seems that my wishes have come to fruition. For this I am thankful.

My inspirations are simple; My love for the women in my life. My love for the women in the world, and of course, my love for the Three-Fold Goddess, The Muse of antiquity. This is often reflected in my poems. For I aspire to the lyrist erudition, once held by The Bards and other esoteric fraternities of the like.

The Great Goddess, in all Her manifestations, once ruled the endogamous gynarchies found ubiquitously. These societies were egalitarian by nature, devoid of caste, racial divide, monetary inequality or controlled resources. An almost utopian state, if one could imagine. Women were the preferred gender, as they were adept in divination, wisdom of life, horticulture, weaving and, most notably, childbirth.

Family lineage was traced through mothers (matrilineal) . Men were loved and respected. Men were lief adherents to the guidance of women and the Lunar Priestesshoods. These peoples lived close to the natural world and saw women everywhere, as deities of landscape features, celestial bodies, waterways, sidereal movements, keepers of herbal plants, astrology, etc. These concepts were recorded in the sacred sciences and allegories of white poetry and magick, usually retained by memory and passed on through oral tradition. They lived peacefully as sexual and intellectually adept libertines, enjoying the unrestrained fecundity of orgiastic rites and unlimited relationships.

They believed love was a theology onto itself, envy was not an issue. For love and natural resources were endless, respected. So competition was not a necessity. For this reason, they venerated The Muse, only took what they needed from Mother Earth, and always gave back to Her.

The Goddess of Her antediluvian and post deluge Queendoms, was later attacked by the onset of city-states; patriarchal societies who wished to subdue Her veracity, benevolence, emancipation and womankind.

Under the aegis of The Goddess, known by many names the world over, people of epochs in prehistory lived in peace for millenia.That is until male deities of war and caste began to fetter and control people and resources. These concepts were hitherto unknown. A more recent paradigm of this political shift, can be seen over the last five centuries in North America, with the cultural assimilation of The First Nations People.
Their theologies, dictions and cultural liberties are at the propinquity of eternal demise. An earlier example of this trend was played out as the Romans subjugated the Celtic tribes of Europe during the Iron Age. This trend can be traced back into even earlier epochs, i.e.; Bronze Age Sumer and Egypt, with the onset of the feudal system, or The Aryan Triad of Gods introduced in India and Greece.

Many contemporary historical scholars would be quick in polemically debunking these notions. This is of little concern to me. For they embrace orthodox views of 'His Story' (history) . Whereas I endorse heterodox views of forgotten chapters; of redacted doctrines and oral traditions found in 'Her Story'.

Monotheistic theology has attempted to silence the voice of women and The Muse for many centuries. Prosemen, mythographers and theologians alike, have tried all sorts to decry the existence of the Triple-Goddess. To no avail.

Through the misogyny and propaganda of Olympian Myth written by the scribes of Hellenic Invaders in Greece; to Rome’s charges of 'adultery' met with in The Colosseum; from The Council of Nicaea’s redaction of The Gnostic Gospels; to the disbanding of The Knights Templar, recondite guilds have kept the 'pagan faith' of The Goddess alive heretofore and hereafter.

Even through the Witch Hunts of 'miscreants' and 'heretics' charged by The Papal Inquisitions in Europe, which found it’s way to The Americas, The Goddess and Her people kept witchcraft, paganism and polytheism alive. They were forced to practice their beliefs in ancient science underground for fear of reprisal from the government and The Church. It seems that diabolism was not to be found in the cauldron, but instead, on the pulpit.

Though, with modern liberties, I will not be burned at the stake or imprisoned for my pagan poetry, I do expect ridicule and dogmatic controversy. I baulk these acolytes of secular faith and 'reason'. I seek out the truth which is She, my Muse and the White Poetry which She bestows upon me. The truth of 'poetic unreason'.

The writing of poetry is not to assuage the ego, but rather a transfer of positive energy by means of what Pagans call Inner Plane Work. In this process the poet or hierophant will focus on deliberation with spirit energy and forces with the goal of reinstating balance to the world both in historical and philanthropical endeavours. Working on this plane mote allow one to access the inner knowledge found innately in all living things. A kind of ancestral repository of erudition. The poet is simply an incarnate medium and consort to The Goddess in Her many aspects.

The poet usually identifies himself with the consort (god) of the waxing year and his priesthood, who were subject to The Goddess in all three of Her aspects; birth, love and death. The poets tanist, or other self, is identified with the consort (god) of the waning year. The two aspects of The Consort are constantly at odds. They represent the two salient stations of The Solar Year, The Summer Solstice (Litha) and The Winter Solstice (Yule) . The waxing year runs Yule to Litha and the waning year runs Litha to Yule.
The Consort and Tanist are also both aspects of The Sacred Oak and Holly Kings respectively. A study in The Druidic Tree Alphabet of Ogham, or Wiccan traditions would reveal these concepts.

The poetess identifies herself with The Goddess Herself and with Her priestesshood in any of the three aspects but usually manifests first as The Maiden, then as Mother/Nymph, then finally as Crone. These aspects of The Triumvirate of The Goddess represent Her in the three phases of the waxing, full and waning moons respectively. These aspects also represent Her three major stations of The Lunar Year sometimes divided into five seasons depending on the lore/mythology of the area in question and subject to the epoch it was written in. In later mythologies, Then Triple-Goddess was portrayed as The Nine-Fold Muse. She is also known as The White Goddess. My poem 'Leucothea' pays homage to Her as The White One.

The Goddess originally ruled both the lunar and solar calendars. She transmogrified into various calendar beasts to represent Her aspects of the year. Namely the Lunar Year, which was once the calendar of choice for all events both jejune and theological. She took to form as such creatures as The Chimaera in Greek tradition or The Unicorn in Celtic Tradition (to name but two) . Once the misogynist male gods began to infiltrate the ranks of divination to control resources, the Solar Calendar began to hold sway, until the Goddess’s roles were minimized. New calendar beasts were created to usurp the old ones. These new beasts and deities represented The Solar Year and were eventually given all male attributes, until finally the One God of neo-western society became the paradigm which embodied all things celestial and banal. A god of war and fief systems who favoured the select few, creating caste systems, subduing all women and lower class men. This new god of war came on a peace platform and offered protection from the ' diabolic ' evil one in the underworld.

This One God of monotheism propagated trepidations throughout his realm. He induced such fear that people would turn on one another to save themselves. The One God controlled the city states and its ecclesiastic orders within, thus creating a state of absolute dependency. The One God turned on his mother and lovers. He sought to control. The once loved Goddess and Consort were demonized into one iniquitous being in this new mythos. Those who practiced the old faiths were forced to do so behind closed doors at night or in the wilderness. They were constantly being harried and hunted. The One God, his creators and acolytes created new myths of misogyny to portray The Goddess as either inept or wicked.

These mythopoeics turned the Goddess of Death/Crone aspects into an evil practitioner of black magic, in Her Love/Mother/Nymph aspect into a harlot and Her Maiden aspect into a dotard born from ' The Father’s Head ', implying that wisdom could only be found through men and male gods, as seen with Athene and Zeus. Ergo, The Goddess was usurped and subdued by force. Men took the family lineage and 'civilization' was born, The Old Code was now something of a criminal act.

These new mythologies of gynopathy acted as a kind of political cartoon for the politics of the time. A tool of propaganda which turned witches, sorceresses and bards of The Old Code into something of an evil. Lies were disseminated, and a divide created. My poems attempt to reclaim the original myths and legends. I would suggest the reading of Robert Graves work to fully elucidate on this vast subject. Although I never met him, he is nonetheless my mentor. His works of historical scholarship and poetry are touchstones in understanding these political shifts from theology based in matrilocality, to those based in patrilocality.

There were, of course, other motives of mythology which can be defined as 'true myth'. Myth written in honour of their original intent. These mythologies put a face on the many aspects of the Lady Universe and the metaphysical role that humans play within it. Through myth, we can trace a phenomenon known as Precession of The Equinoxes, whereby the sun rises through a different constellation at vernal equinox for just over two thousand years until moving through the next one. To round the zodiacal cycle takes almost twenty six thousand years. This effect is created by a slow wobble at the earths axis which causes the stellar backdropp to change slowly threw time.

Many myths reveal The Mysteries of this movement. Examples of this can be found in such texts as The Kalevala, based in Finno-Ugric tradition; or the play Hamlet by Shakespeare. In the book 'Hamlet’s Mill', by Giorgio De Santillana and Hertha von Dechend, this is explained in detail. Essentially, the hero of the myth represents The Mill, that is, the earth as it moves on its axis. Also, myths reveal a myriad of other Ancient Mysteries, such as; Orgiastic Rites, The Sothic Year in Egyptian Tradition, The Zodiac, Astronomy, The Luminaries and Planets, Earthly Cycles, Ancient Technology, Theological Thought Worlds, among many other subjects too extensive to explain here in a short book of poetry.

Myths also represent the use of Magick. Magick can be defined as; An elevated understanding of nature and as a veracious vision of Lady Universe as She whirls and roars around us. It is a fundamental belief in an ordered cosmos of which we are part of. The One is The All, The All is The One. It is Ancient Science or Sacred Science. It is The Law of Attraction at work. This one law is as pure and constant as the Law of Gravity. New findings in quantum physics seem to confirm this very archaic belief. It is known in all ancient traditions by many names. It was originally an attribute of The Goddess Herself.

This law is also known as The Law of Love. In my poem 'Benighted Reveries' I refer to it as the Benighted Law of Amity in honour of The Moon Goddess. Call it what you will, it was used in all theological and theocratic guilds in the ancient world. The difference being, that during the periods of gynarchy The Goddess and Her priestesses did not keep this Law from the population. Her societies were egalitarian and promoted peace, harmony and love. In later civilization controlled by war gods and/or monotheism, the priesthoods and leaders kept this Law obscured. In this way, it could only be accessed by the select few. This kept the population in intellectual and literary darkness. Only the elite few could even read, let alone know The Mysteries. The only others that knew these esoteric truths were the witches and shamans who hid in exile. They posed a threat to the mendacities of civilization.

For this reason they were feared by the authorities and hunted if they could not be converted. For example; The Aloeids Revolt of The Classical Period in Greece during the fourth century B.C; The Qumran Community, made up of Essenes, lived in exile on The Dead Sea to escape Pharisee dogma in first century A.D; or The Inquisition during Europe’s Renaissance, lend credence to this reality. Even many Druids were killed after their lands were sacked by The Romans throughout The Iron Age and on into the first century A.D.

The Druids maintained The Mysteries of The Ogham Alphabet and the arboreal wisdom in connexion with The Old Code of Magick. It has even been suggested that the emperor Hadrian built his 'Hadrian’s Wall' as a barrier to thwart a major Ley Line used in Druidic Magick for centuries. The excuse for the wall was shrinking coffers in Rome and a boundary needed to be established to keep out the northern Celtic tribes. The truth was that the Emperor was horrified by The Druids Magick, he knew that they knew The Mysteries. This created a threat to The Roman Empire. Rome could only maintain power by force, and by keeping it’s citizens in the dark. Hence the creation of The Colosseum. The Colosseum created a disport; Create a distraction, control the mob, control the mob, control Rome. Amphitheatres were built throughout The Roman Empire for this same purpose. Even in modern times we find parallels with these tactics.

In some circles ‘Civilization’ has been defined as the process of assimilating cultures by means of perpetual warfare. A well delineated definition. In our own time we continue with this tradition. We emulate the Greco-Roman governments and caste systems. We are taught that we must compete for all things, including resources.

I find myself at odds with my own compunctions, working much of my life in the mining industry. An industry which marauds the Earth for monetary gain. Growing up and living most my life in Northern Ontario, I have been fortunate enough to live next to the wilderness. I have observed the rhythms and cycles of our Mother, The Earth, since I was child. Many of my family members are farmers, hunters and fishers. I grew up helping on the farm, hunting and fishing. I learned the skills of living from the land along with learning the skills to survive in the new age of modernity.

Yet even in Northern Canada we see the demise of the wilderness. Bit by bit our forests are being cut to extinction. Our bedrock mined unscrupulously. Our eco-systems being polluted and destroyed by these juggernaut industries who compete for resources.

It seems that the deities of war are alive and well.
So, I choose to put my energy into positive change.

The Law of Amity dictates that; resistance equals persistence. We must stop trying to fight everything we loathe and concentrate on the antithetic alternative. The Old Code worked in this way. Knowledge equals power. We must stop giving our power to the elite few. Can one poem make a difference. Yes. Can one song make a difference. Yes. Can a positive thought make a difference. Yes. Even if the artistic expression only reaches one person, the balance changes. The Egyptian Goddess, Ma’at, testifies to this concept. Hearkening to the Old Code creates emancipation, which frees the soul, allowing it to transcend the worldly plane. When the mendacities of the worldly plane are transcended, we access the macrocosm. When we access the macrocosm we fulfill our portents in the microcosm, which is the earthly plane at its greatest potential. Change your thoughts, and change the world.

In atavism their is truth. In truth there is love. Love does conquer mendacity. It is an infallible law. First, each person needs to know and believe in their power. Then they must dare to follow their hearts. This lead to will, the volition of belief from the heart. Keep silent nigh the naysayer’s. Then believe. Lady Universe will read your heart and sent back your desire in three folds. This is the pyramid of the witches. That which is above must be below. Even in Christian Theology this is stated; That which is done on Earth must be done in Heaven. The only problem with giving your energy to The One God is that he will use your energy for his own agenda.

Take back your power. The truth of divinity is within any of us. The One God can only cast trepidations upon you if you let him. He is powerless without your energy. The Devil is merely a fear tactic created by the elite few and their god of war, their god of war is apotheosized by their greed, controlling nature and lust for power.

The elite few wield power within The Agnostic Realms as well. If the Earth Plane is the only plane, then proletariats have no say. Agnostics can not properly access The Law of Amity if they do not believe. One’s thoughts ultimately become one’s realities. If one’s reality is simply the microcosm of the secular plane, then those thoughts manifest into future events, thus creating more of the same reality. The microcosm is still under the influence of the macrocosm, but sends out haphazard and negative signals thereby weakening the effect. This difference creates compromise, so that the sender of thoughts does not believe in their power. Thus, they create more of their temporal reality and relinquish control to the keepers of mendacities (i.e.; the elite few)

Once a person comes to the realization that the Earth Plane is illusory, that time is not a reality and that divine access is inherent in all things, they can presage their future. Gather several minds who approbate this truth and magick, then change the world. Anarchy is freedom. Freedom is chaos. Chaos is order. The Order is The Divine Spark. The Divine Spark becomes reality. Ergo, reality is anarchy which is freedom...................The Law of Love. The Law of Love is Balance and Harmony. The One is The All. Blessed Be.

Herein lay the task and truth of the poet.

We all work within the one law. The Law of Amity. The Law of Love. Poetry is undoubtedly the medium by which to harness it.

Hence, it must be written while sojourning to the astral plane or the otherworld. In the other world, all energies can be accessed, with a face of the poets choosing. This was known to the ancients as the Underworld. Place where souls go between incarnations where they await rebirth. The Death Goddess leads them unto this realm. Later patriarchal and monotheistic scribes blasphemed it’s beauty and the beauty of The Death Goddess. These misogynist scribes turned the underworld into hell, and so, The Goddess and Her lover into devils, then into The Devil. The Christian mythos created The Devil to instil fear, so its flock would not stray (or think for themselves) . Pagans do not believe in this creature of pure evil.

In the case of Persephone, who was one manifestation of the Death Goddess, they assigned Her to their new Ruler of The Underworld; Hades. This marks a political and religious shift (i.e.: pre-Hellenic Gynarchy to Hellenic Patriarchy) . These scribes made the once omnipotent and lovely Goddesses Demeter and Persephone helpless to the caprices of the gynopathic Hades and Zeus.

Originally The Death Goddess led the dead to The Beautiful Underworld Realm of Elysium. Elysium was a beautiful Island with Apple Orchards, where it was always summertime. From Elysium the soul could tarry as long as they wished and decide their destiny for their next lifetime. The Death Goddess would transform to Her Maiden aspect and lead the old soul in its new incarnation back to the Earth Plane. So death meant rebirth not purgatory. This is just one example of how the comeliness of The Goddess Realms had been redacted in a negative manner to poison and control the mind of humanity. In Celtic traditions, Elysium was known as Avalon. I use underworld themes in many of my poems.

As a poet, The Goddess will take you to the underworld of The Elysian Fields in Elysium whenever on the astral plane. She proffers a Golden Apple or Pomegranate or Quince. This fruit of wisdom is Her gift to those who wish freedom and wisdom. One day She calls upon all to come and be reborn. The poet or hierophant may visit by their own volition. She guides them.

The poet has visited Elysium so many times that they become Consort to The Goddess. The poetess is the voice and incarnation of The Goddess Herself. They are reborn in and out of the secular and astral bournes countless times since time began, but time is an illusion. They are timeless. Their love fuels The Law of Amity and Love. Poetesses, poets and hierophants have been sent to The Earth Plane over and over. They are restoring the balance of the Earth. Their energy is transmogrified and reincarnated perpetually. They may reside on Apple Isle for some time, yet always return to aid in bringing the prophecy of Balance to fruition. One’s Moon Sign may determine their chosen destiny.

In early traditions of the Levant, The Realm of Angels were part and parcel to Apple Isle. Within this Realm are real people, old energies and new energies and those in between. On The Earth Plane this is apparent. Those with new energy have tremendous power but can not yet harness it. The deities of war often drain this pure light from them to fuel their agendas. If they feel devoid of power they give up this energy unknowingly. The poet tries to reach their hearts ere its sullying. These energies of purity incarnate are the greatest potential for regaining balance. Alas, oft times they take solace in the pews of liturgical orders. They are bound by trepidations and fear of reprisal.

Since poetry is written in the celestial thought world, it should not be subjugated by prose dogma.

A couple of publishing companies I tried insisted that I rewrite my poems and modernize the language content to connect better with modern readers. They insisted on the use of conventional format of mechanics and stanza within my poetic meter.

This would have compromised my message. For this reason I decided to self-publish. In this way, the message written is the message received, however raw or chaotic it may seem. I believe that poetry is about ambivalence, chaos in the universe and freedom of expression. The reader should feel as though they are living the poet’s feelings in that moment when the quill and ink hit the paper. Feel the inundation of dree, glee and melancholic unknowns of Bardic Tradition.

The reader should not receive some diluted and edited version of that moment. Herein lay the veracity and exposure to imperfection which is what makes poetry beautiful, or not so. This is the discernment betwixt poetry and prose.

I would rather publish a bad poem from my heart than an edited version that has been washed by rote indulgence. If rules are behest of poetry. They must be circumvented in order to be true rhapsodies, from heart to quill; quill to paper.

My disdain for conventional meter has inspired some of my poems. 'To Versify In Certitude'; and; 'The Dogma of Modernity'; for example.

To those naysayer’s and pedants who wish to attack my words with protocol on poetry mechanics and rules of stanza; I think you miss the point behind your scotoma of vision. Poetry transcends propriety terms and prosaic diction. If you find my work is non-conformable, then I am content. I have accomplished my task. I hope that the discontentment and negativity who feel toward life will one day lead to manumitted happiness, allowing you to see past discrepancy and maxim.

To those who find solace and truth in my versification, I am truly happy and honoured. Thank You.

When we opt to stand in the circle and access the personal cone of power, only then can our dreams and hearts be realized. This is the truth that presides in Ancient Rhymes; As Above, So Below. The Emerald Tablet shone then as now. Blessed be.

To some of my favourite authors; Robert Graves (late writer, poet and historical scholar) , Marilyn French (feminist and writer) , Laura Riding (late poetess) : Manda Scott (writer of The Boudica Series) , Doreen Valiente (late writer, poetess and advocate of witchcraft) : Silver Raven Wolf (writer and advocate of witchcraft) : John Matthews (writer, poet and teacher of the occult, ancient bardic lore, mythology and divination) : Doreen Virtue, PhD; (writer, psychologist, teacher in divination, empowerment and Angelic/ Elemental Realms): Christopher Knight and Robert Lomas (researchers and writers on Freemasonry): Graham Hancock (historical researcher) : Thank You.

For your insight, inspiration and courage is prodigious.

To my beautiful wife Christianne Bolton, my loving mother Peggy Trimmer, my grandmother Margaret Gilpin (now passed on) , my sister Deanna Burns, my daughters Brianna and Lily, to my nieces Emma and Aryanna and my friend Nicole Graves, Thank You. I love all of you. Thank you for being my living Muses on earth.
To my son Patrick Bolton and nephew Clayton Burns, I love you, as does She.

To my grandfather George Gilpin, I love and respect you more than you will ever know. When I was growing up, you were the male role model in my life and in Brian’s life also. I hope you know this.

To my good friend Georgia Spyratos, thank you for our conversations and for giving me insight into Greek culture.

To my brother Brian and nephew Nathan, who died in 2006, may The Great Goddess greet thee in The Elysian Fields. Sleep well.

To Julie, my sister-in-law, who lost her husband and son, I love you and hope that happiness will find you again.

These rhapsodies are also in dedication to all my sisters and brothers who follow the Wiccan/ Pagan Rede. May the truth of Pagan Gynaecocracy live on in us fore’er. May we live through many more scores of incarnations until the balance of Lady Earth is restored;

The picture on the front cover of this book is of my Grandma, Margaret Gilpin. The picture was taken in the 1940`s. It is a beautiful likeness of her. In honour of you Grandma.................we love you and miss you. Rest well.




An’ if these entreaties
Hurt no one
So mote
It come to pass
Blessed be
Till we meet again



To my Muse, I entreat thee
Guide me on this journey unseemed
A humble heart, bespake of me
I am sanguine, that this book................................ be worthy deemed
































Soteriological Faith In The Occident


Although I am respectful of everyone’s religion, I do have issues with most of the western soteriological faiths. These are my own findings and opinions. I respect anyone with opposing views. I only ask that they respect mine in return. I have put a good deal of time and effort into reading and research, and so, I have not come to my extant beliefs light-heartedly.

Soteriological theology generally can be traced back to dubious beginnings, whereby, scribes have taken early true mythology and lore, rewrote it and created an exegesis of misogynist intent and misconstrued allegory.

In Palestine scribes began to scission the old oral traditions, as instructed by the new religious order delineating Judaic Law and history, in the tenth century B.C. This was during the reign of King Solomon (although it could be argued that patriarchy began much earlier with Jacob/Israel) . The Torah is comprised of the Book of Genesis through to Book of The Kings, an early redaction in this period.

Solomon himself loved The Goddesses Asherah and Ashtoreth as much as his love Bilkis; The Sabean Queen of Sheba. He battled his conscience and the new order of patriarchal priests constantly. Solomon refused to take down his shrines to Asherah and Ashtoreth/Astarte. In The Book Of The Kings (biblical text) this is apparent.

The Old Testament was written well before the advent of ecclesiastic faith. It seems that the earliest stories of Genesis had their origins in the antiquated, and one of the earliest known civilizations, of Sumer. We know from biblical accounts that Abraham was from the city of Ur, in Sumerian lands betwixt the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers also known as Mesopotamia. Abraham was undoubtedly erudite in the high wisdom and sacred science of the priesthood. He represented a kind of culture hero often found in post-deluge civilizations. Abraham’s wife Sarah was most likely the culture heroine in the original epic. History seems to have deleted Her salient role, much like Deucalion’s wife Pyrrha.

Abraham brought many epics from Sumer, which found their way into The Old Testament. This explains the connexion with Sumerian and Semitic lore. Upon reaching the Sinai Peninsula and The Levant, Abraham likely would have encountered The Canaanites (a.k.a The Phoenicians) , who were one group of The Seafaring Peoples who survived The Great Deluge. The Canaanites, were Goddess worshippers, who were later exscinded from The Levant by misogynist Semitic Tribes mostly The Amorites and Kassites who also brought their war deities to Sumer.

Sumer is considered the cradle of civilization. When The Amorites first conquered Mesopotamia (2000-1600 B.C) they first had to subdue the priestesshood of Inanna. Inanna, later known as Ishtar, was local Mother Goddess. Under Sargon The Great, circa.24 century B.C, Inanna’s lands were partly subjugated under the new patriarchal deities, who were much like Yahweh of The Levant lands (who subdued Asherah) . Originally a consort who turned on Her (i.e.; the shift from matriarchy to patriarchy) . Sargon’s daughter was a priestess of Inanna. Her name was Enheduanna. She wrote poetry about Inanna/Ishtar and the gynarchy that hitherto held sway. Her father Sargon did not venerate this Old Code entirely. Sargon’s new world order marked the beginning of patriarchy in Sumer and the kingdom of Akkad.

This land was one of various places and traditions to record The Great Deluge. Mesopotamia also produced the renaissance-Sumerian cultures of Babylonia, Assyria, Medial-Persia and eventually the Islamic empires. With each generation the Goddess’s role diminished until it was naught, then She was demonized. My poem 'Kadija' is based on this theme.

The story of Noah and The Ark is based in early epics of The Great Deluge. The Sumerian epic hero of the flood myth was Uta-Napishtim or in earlier traditions, Gilgamesh and/or Ziasudra (Xiothuros) . These stories, although altered by patriarchal scribes, hearken back to the deluge experienced worldwide. Examples of this my be found in Greek Myth with the epic of Pyrra and Deucalion; or the flood emanating in Egypt with the tale of The Ogygian (Ogygius) Flood.

This Flood did happen. It was likely the result of either a cometary impact upon Earth creating seismic imbalance and nuclear winter causing an ice age, then the subsequent thaw of melting ice caps at the north and south poles. Another theory suggests that the cycles affecting the precession of the equinoxes and orbital cycles of Earth in relation to the Sun bring the Earth through cycles of ice ages and thaws of polar ice. Either way, the last Ice Age seemed to have abated cica.11,000 B.C and created prolific quantities of melt water, thus, inundating the Earth.

There is increasing evidence from mythological, archaeo-astronomical and historical studies that suggest the existence of an antediluvian civilization was extant before The Great Deluge. These people were from the seafaring nation of Atlantis as described in the Egyptian legend. These Atlantians were the Thraco-Libyan peoples also known as The Keftiu ('Sea Peoples') .

The Keftiu Confederacy was based nigh Lake Tritonis (Triton) in Libya and on Pharos Isle in The Nile Delta. They had a profound knowledge of the sea, sidereal and planetary ambulations, agrarian cycles, whether patterns o’er vast temporal intervals and all other eruditions associated with sacred science. This allowed them to presage the malevolence and magnitude of the imminent Great Deluge. They sailed to high points upon the Earth. They kept their knowledge in tact. They set out on their ships and resettled the lands as the flood waters began to recede. My poems; 'Isis And The Sages of Sais and ' Pyrrha’s Deluge' use this theme.

The Atlantians disseminated in all directions; throughout the Mediterranean, Nile Valley, The Atlantic West Coast, The Black Sea coast; down The Tigris and Euphrates Rivers; into The Levant and Mesopotamia and eventually out into many waterways across the globe. I believe that they aided in the creation of the Four Old-World River Valley Cultures and various other erudite cultures of The Americas, The Orient and elsewhere. Including; The cultures of ancient Egypt, Sumer, The Mediterranean, Maya, Inca, Celtic, Eurasia, Nubia, Indus Valley, Easter Island and countless other settlements.

The world is connected by water. It is a reasonable conjecture to assume contact between the continents in early antiquity. Even studies in etymology and genetics can attest this very real plausibility. As well, archaic texts from prehistory support this. The researchers Robert Graves, Graham Hancock, Robert Bauval and John Anthony West have written extensively on this connexion. They all have differing theories, yet early contact by The Atlantians is a prevalent theme.

One of the more popular stories on Atlantis was first told by Plato of The Classical Period in Greece. His grandfather Salon heard the story from his friends who were Libyan priests of Sais, a shrine city on Pharos Isle in The Nile Delta. This story was likely a grafted version of a tradition much older, from pre- Hellenic epochs.

All early civilizations and cultures seem to have record of a culture hero and/or heroine who came on a ship and taught life skills to the local people. One example is the legend of Viracocha at the city of Tiahuanaco in South America or; Quetzalcoatl / Kukulchan at the city of Teotihuacan and Chichen Itza in Mexico. The list goes on.

The Atlantians brought Goddess worship as well. These respects for venerating the ‘giver of life’ were later renounced, sending patriarchal society into; ignorance for the many and power for the few.

The Holy Land was no exception. In early Mesopotamian lore, one of the Goddess aspects was Sin. Sin was a Goddess commensurable to Inanna, Ishtar and Isis. The word 'sin' was later coined as a negative term by Judeo-Christian scribes and theologians. This was due to a Semitic and Hellenic precedence, set first by The Amorites and reinforced later in The Classical Period during the fifth century B.C. Prior to this period The Goddess was revered ahead of all other deities. She was The Goddess of the year, life, birth, death and nature’s essence manifest in arboreal wisdom. The Hellenes and Aryans adopted a patriarchal theology. Thus, usurping The Goddess and giving Her a diminished and subservient role.

By the period of advent for Christianity, The Goddess was scissioned out and 'sin' became synonymous with evil. An embodiment of iniquity was fabricated called the Devil, a mix of The Goddess and Her lover at waning year; The Horned One (i.e.; Pan and The Muse) . This created a fear tactic to dissuade adherence to ancient pagan faiths. The Devil still weakens the Christian mythos into modern times. The male deities were reduced to The One God, hitherto known as Zeus or Yahweh or Marduk etc. These godlings were once The Golden (Sun) Child; the sacred king; god at waxing year. Hence, the once pagan triad was reduced to one aspect, the other two aspects made diabolic. The ostensible trinity created; Father, Son and Holy Ghost usurped the original theme of; Goddess in triad, God of waxing year, and tanist God of waning year.

The One God bullied his way into a false titular claim and betrayed his mother and his true love in one fowl swoop. This marked the genesis of Monotheism and subsequent lost wisdom.

Sin was really an aspect of Eve. In the original epic of Genesis, She was allegorically bestowing The Golden Apple of Wisdom upon Adam, Her love. The Serpent was The Death Goddess of Apple Island or Paradise or The Underworld, place of peace, beauty and rebirth. In this way, The Serpent was the Death Goddess of Rebirth, then transmogrified to Her Maiden aspect as Eve. Eve would tutor and love Adam then guide him back to the Earth Realm. This story was redacted by scribes who wished to rewrite her story, painting her as a fool and wicked distraction to Adam, then punished by the malevolent One God of war and sorrow. Yet, The One God would blame Eve for his punitive nature, taking onus off himself. The misogynist Greek Myth of Pandora was rewritten in much the same way. My poems; ‘Pandora’ and ‘A Sonnet to Eve’ relate this concept.

Sin was also a letter in the ancient Canaanite/ Phoenician Alphabet, most plausibly representing The Apple Tree of Her Wisdom. This letter created an 's' sound like that of a snake. Like the Celtic Tree Alphabet of Ogham, trees of the Goddess would represent letters, apothecaries amongst varied other themes in sacred science. The One God did all he could to erase this wisdom from philanthropy, hoard it for himself, then use it for his own itinerary and mendacious order.

The work of Robert Graves delves into these ideas in great detail.

Even The Flood of Genesis, which was simply a record of a natural event, was written in by scribes as a punishment on mankind for independent thought, to create fear and control. The eschatology of Revelation, which was a presage of an ending age leading to another in astronomical wisdom, was written in by scribes as a punishment for disobeying The One God, to create fear and control. In other words; follow The One God’s orders or meet eternal perdition. We can see these parallels in the Hellenic misogynist exegetics of The Underworld of Hades vs. The Underworld of Hecate; fear and pain vs. volition and love.

Soteriological faith is based around the life of Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ is a Greek name from Hellenist translation. His name in Hebrew was actually Jeshua (Yahoshua) ben Yoseph or, Jesus son of Joseph. Jeshua’s birth from Mary (Miryam/Miriam) is another mythical allegory. Mary was actually part of a priestesshood to the Goddess (Asherah/Ashtoreth) , with similarity to the Vestal Virgins in Rome. The priestesses would meet with the priests on quarter and cross-quarter festivals to conduct orgiastic rites. In this way the sacred child could be born on a solstice or equinox depending on their lineage and prophetic destiny. This rite was later abolished by the new order in Jerusalem, forcing the royal families from matriarchal epochs into exile. They did keep this lineage and rite alive, but in the wilderness, in safety from reprisal.

To hide this pagan lineage of Jesus, subsequent patriarchal orders used a censorship concept known as a 'parthenogenetic birth' for the Sun Child of the One God (three centuries after Jesus’ death) . Parthenogenesis was a tactic first used by Hellene scribes for reducing Athene to a birth from Zeus’s head, giving The Parthenon it’s name, meaning 'virgin birth', as if to say that sexual union was not required. The story of Zeus swallowing Metis also points to this bombast misogyny amongst war deities. Most Roman cults of the day approbated this decree; Mithraism, Sol Invictus, etc.

The idea of parthenogenesis was created, again, by gynopathic scribes in Hellenic Greek Myth. The best example, Athene, who was once an omnipotent Triple-Goddess. She was reduced to Her Maiden aspect only and put under Zeus’s thumb. In the recreation of Athene’s story, She is born from the head of Zeus. This was to symbolize the new order; wisdom can only be born from The Father, displaying how the prerogatives of The Wise Goddess had been peculated by war-mongering misogynists.

Jesus was part of a Jewish sect in Palestine during the first century B.C. They lived on the shores of the Dead Sea to escape the corruption in Jerusalem. They were The Qumran Community known as The Essenes.

During this period three distinct sects of Jews had formed;

1. The Sadducees; The ruling class of the caste. They controlled most of the political rules of the region. They of course answered to Rome. Judaea was a Roman annexation by this time. They had little interest in The Temple on The Mount or religious activity.

2. The Pharisees; The worshippers of Yahweh. As close to Orthodox Jews as could be found in modernity. They were devout practitioners of Rabbinical Law and controlled The Temple. The Temple had been rebuilt after their return from captivity in Babylon by King Zerubbabel in 539 B.C. It was also the site of Solomon’s Temple built in the tenth century B.C, then razed in 586 B.C by Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar.
My poem; 'Tara, Keeper of The Lia Fail', touches on this.

3. The Essenes; These were Jesus’ people. The bloodline from antiquity. Living in exile, away from the condemning eyes of The Pharisees and The Sadducees. They abhorred the corruption in Jerusalem and abominated the Roman occupation of The Holy Land. They were adept in their sacred sciences of ancient gynarchy. They were descendants of the male half of the orgiastic order. They did not countenance any Hellenic or Diaspora ideals. They were later known as The Nasoreans/Nazarenes. The title Jesus of Nazareth comes from this Order. The town of Nazareth did not exist in the time of Jesus, we know this because The Romans kept pedantic records. The Essenes/Nasoreans founded The First Church of Jerusalem based in Gnostic Tradition of Goddess worship. Miryam of Migdal (Mary Magdalene) was its first Papess. Later scribes would paint Her as a harlot. Her title was usurped by Peter and Paul to created a purported, false papal line. The Nazarenes were trying to establish the Old Code. When Rome decreed Christianity it’s religion, they renounced The Gnostic line of Miryam and created a male lineage.
Jesus was a Pagan. Jesus loved The Goddess and his Papess.

I believe that Jesus would be horrified if he saw how his Papess was treated. He would not want to be affiliated with the false line of papal authority. If Jesus were alive today, he would not be a Christian. He would be, as he was, a poet and prophet to The White Goddess.

Initially, Jesus was not a member of The Essenes. His brother, Yacob ben Yoseph (James son of Joseph) was. James as much more robust and healthy. A more likely candidate for select gene pools within regal orgiastic rites. James, along with the man we know as John The Baptist (Yohanan) were The Right and Left Pillar of the Qumran Community.

The Canaanite theological ideals of 'right and left pillars' in early Judaism were as follows;

The Pillars were allegories which manifested themselves within The Temple, first represented in Solomon’s original temple. One was known as The Mishpat Pillar. The other was The Tsedeq Pillar (also called Jachin and Boaz) . One pillar stood for the kingly and temporal aspect of the Earth, and the other represented the priestly and ethereal aspect of the Earth. These two pillars were in turn connected with The Shalom. The Shalom was The Temple ceiling and represented heaven itself Shalom was also an aspect of The Goddess, who linked the dichotomy of the two male divine aspects, the Sacred King and his tanist. This is yet another paradigm of The Consort (god) of waxing year, and god of waning year as mentioned earlier. The pillars would also track the Sun’s movements between the solstices and equinoxes.

James was the priestly aspect of Tsedeq. He co-opted this role along with John The Baptist. The two were given the title Boanerges (The Thunder Twins) . Yet at this time, The Essenes were devoid of a kingly aspect representative.

The Essenes had fled Jerusalem. To them, the temple had been defiled. King Herod, who was a puppet-king of The Romans, held the throne. Caiaphas held the position of High Priest and was a Pharisee. Pontius Pilate was Roman governor of Judea who answered directly to The Roman Emperor.

The Essenes were desirous of a true kingly pillar. A descendant from the ancient bloodline.

This was where Jesus comes in. Jesus was not the man depicted in Christendom by later painters or theologians of The Medieval and Renaissance periods in Europe. Records describe him as a short, slightly-built man with some ailments. Hardly a candidate for Essene selection. Yet, Jesus had proven himself as an astute leader on defensive campaigns and as an eloquent, charismatic speaker. Jesus was also from the descended bloodline which did not approve of the patriarchy which was manifesting even amongst The Essenes themselves. He was an egalitarian who believed that scholarship, creativity and honour transcended physical appearance and strength. He believed in The Ancient Code and in Matriarchy. He was the rightful heir.

His connection with his brother James and John The Baptist persuaded the initiators of his right to the kingly pillar. He was now The Messiah, the king to The Essenes. It seems plausible that King Herod wanted Jesus dead as an infant. Herod, being a Judean by birth and line, would have known his rightful claim to the throne. Herod knew the ancient prophecy. But that is another story.

Jesus, being the egalitarian and libertine that he was, ignored Essene protocol. He initiated the sick, lame and poor into his new cult. He was erudite in all the sacred sciences, including apothecary and herbalist medicine. This earned him the reputation as being a healer. He also taught the proletariat class of his following how to utilize The Law of Attraction.

Now, for the first time in centuries, a plebeian could divine her or his own destiny. Jesus did not preach subservience to any ecclesiastical or secular order. He preached transcendence of dogma and fetters by independent thought; The earthly powers could chain your body, yet they could not chain your mind unless you let them. The reproach of The Pharisees intimidated many commoners who feared the priesthood and Yahweh. Jesus taught his new order to walk in the light of truth and ignore the maxims of The Temple by adhering to The Old Code. The Code which allowed love, divinity, knowledge, happiness and all other good things to be had by all. The Code of The Triple Goddess. The only barriers, were barriers in the mind. To circumvent these barriers, one only had to believe with their hearts. One only had to believe in herself or himself.

Jesus was highly educated. He even studied in Alexandria. He was well versed in several languages, including Hellenic, Latin and Semitic tongues. He knew his Atlantian heritage. He knew the wisdom of gynarchy that was lost to countless generation of oppressed peoples. For this reason he spoke out against the authorities. Both banal and religious. He awoke the hearts and minds of many proselytes and showed them a truth that had been hidden from them. This was his greatest miracle. Truth.

Due to Jesus’ open door policies many enemies did he create. He became a heretic even amongst many of The Essenes. Yet because of his connexion to The Boanerges Twins, he was tolerated. The preachings of John The Baptist were similar to that of Jesus. For this reason, many of the authorities were not so tolerant. Herod was growing ever more vexed by these seditious preachings, as was the Temple priesthood. Herod killed John The Baptist to quell this movement, to no avail. Jesus requited with even harder push. He spoke out against the corruption of The Temple by The Pharisees in Jerusalem.

Hitherto, Jesus did not pose much of a threat to authorities. He preached in outer territories like on shores of The Sea of Galilee (Gennesaret) or in other less influential areas along The Jordan River. But now, he was crossing the line by attacking the religious epicentre of Jerusalem. The High Priest, Caiaphas, soon wanted him dead. He was shaking the foundations of control within Judaism and Pharisee influence. Even Gentile and Roman authorities noted his insurrectionary behaviour.

Caiaphas put pressure on the Roman governor Pontius Pilate to kill Jesus. Due to the upheaval, James was held as a criminal as well. I believe that James was the criminal Barabbas, described in The New Testament, and released just after Jesus’ trial. By this time Jesus only had the support from a few of his followers and was forsaken by most of The Essenes.

It seems obvious that Pontius Pilate was trying to avoid a rioting throng. He would have had only a small garrison of legionaries in Jerusalem. It was Passover, so the city was replete with a concourse of pilgrims and denizens alike. Pilate knew that he could not contain a riot of any substantial proportion. So, at the crowd’s command and at the wish of the Pharisees, Pontius Pilate decreed that the prophet be executed on the Tau.

The Tau, in essence, was the cross depicted by Christendom, with one varied attribute. It is a capital 'T' shape rather than a lower case 't' shape. It was named for the Greek letter Tau. When scribes translated the New Testament in later epochs from Greek to various other dictions and languages, the cross shape was confused. Adding to the confusion was the early Roman Christian symbol of the Chi-Rho, a combination of two Greek letters symbolizing the first two letters in Christ’s name when written in Greek. The Chi-Rho would appear as a capital 'P' threw a capital 'X' in the common Latin Alphabet. In Greek it creates a K-R sound, or more correctly, an H R sound if spoken properly.

Contrariwise, to widely held beliefs throughout Christendom, Yeshua (Jesus) was not a deity. Therefore he would have died quickly. Any crash course in crucifixion would reveal the speed of one’s death when crucified in the manner used in this case. The Romans had learned this punitive technique from The Carthaginians in centuries before whilst General Scipio was on campaign in The 2nd Punic War against Hannibal’s army.
Combined with a frail and ailing body, which Jesus possessed, this seems a rather lucid conjecture. The Romans were adept executioners and could hasten or slow the death of the recipient at will. Pontius Pilate would have wanted the situation resolved forthwith. Jesus was of little concern to him. He wanted only to abate the mob’s discontentment by doing the biding of Caiaphas.

The idea of Christ’s death being drawn out came several decades after his death. He had become somewhat apotheosized by a Pharisee named Saul. Saul who became Paul en route to Damascus was, ostensibly, shown a vision and converted to the followings of Jesus. I personally believe that he was creating a counter-theology against The First Church of Jerusalem. Paul, like all Pharisees of the period, was a patriarch. The Gnostics (Nasoreans, founders of The First Church of Jerusalem) were Goddess worshippers. If Paul could create some fabricated connexion with lineage of Christ, then he could dissuade many potential proselytes to join The Gnostic/Coptic faiths. The Sadducees would have been co-conspirators within this political and religious endeavour. Mary Magdalene was The Black Virgin and First Papess within The Gnostic Faith, a threat to patriarchy and the potential manumitter of enslaved minds.

Papal authorities still recognize Paul’s influence and Apostle Peter in their claim, but that is another story.

The Essenes were also the authors of The Dead Sea Scrolls which were hidden in caves and not found until the twentieth century A.D, by Bedouin shepherds. The scrolls were hidden during The Roman attacks on The Holy Land (circa.78-79 A.D) , which destroyed The Temple. Most Jews were exiled elsewhere, and many of the sects even remotely related to any Nazarene, Essene Ebionite theologies were dispatched. The strongholds of Qumran and Masada were no exception. The surviving Ebionites fled to Eire, which is now Ireland, and became The Ebionim and played a part in founding Celtic Christianity.

The teachings of Jesus were later confounded by Hellenist, Gentile and Roman Christians due to a lack of understanding in Essene theism and a deliberate thwarting of free thought and egalitarianism associated with philogynist Goddess faiths.

For example, when Jesus 'turned water into wine', it symbolized the religious sacred science being brought back to the plebeian class. He was bringing the prosaic back 'into the light', the light of knowledge. This was done against the will of many gynopathic Essene elitists. Jesus was a hero to those who had been forced into intellectual darkness and to those who lacked proper knowledge of ancient medicine. He brought obscured knowledge back to the people so they did not have to depend on the mercy of the authorities, or lack thereof. He became 'the saviour' to the commoners, both mentally and physically, restoring the wisdom and spirituality that was their birthright. Wisdom that had been withheld by the fief vassals, feudal lords and priesthoods so as to create dependency, and to control of power and resources.

Christian theologians misconstrued the concepts of Midrash and Pesher, names used to describe allegory, analogy and parable. Stories used to describe past events to teach a lesson or create a memory trigger or teach sacred sciences, etc. Much like original true mythologies. A demonstrative nuance betwixt poetic ontological thought and prose exegetics of literal comprehension.

The hagiographies of Saint Paul’s Jesus Christ differ prodigiously with the historical figure of Yahoshua ben Yoseph.

The Journeys of Saint Paul began with The Pharisee Saul. Saul grew up in Anatolia (Asia Minor) in the town of Tarsus. Saul’s family were Gentile Diaspora proselytes who converted to a Hellenist form of Judaism. Although considered Jews, The Diaspora were not entirely enlightened in the concepts of more archaic Judaism. Saul would have been raised to take the allegory of Midrash and Pesher literally rather than symbolically.

The conversion of Saul takes place on The Road to Damascus. Damascus in this case should not be confused with the city in Syria. The Qumran Community also used the name Damascus when referring to Qumran. Therefore, Saul was en route to Qumran. Of course, in this epic, The Nasorean named Stephen was stoned to death by some Pharisee henchmen of the high priest. Saul witnesses the event and could very well have partaken in it (probably an omitted portion of the story, just holding coats seems doubtful) . He is rendered blind temporarily, and purportedly sees an epiphany of Christ, who persuades him to convert to the Nasorean cause. He then takes the pseudonym of Paul.

Stephen, who’s name means crown or wreath in Greek was plausibly an Ebionite or Essene. Stephen was probably a potential initiate for the kingly aspect of The Shalom. The Pharisees may well have had Stephen murdered to prevent this. Stephen is called a disciple in biblical accounts, ergo, he may well have been initiated into the ancient rites.

Some theories suggest that Paul was not a Pharisee at all, I find this rather unlikely.
When Paul sees the 'light of God', is when he meets with James, who relates the account of his brother’s death. Paul takes the story of Jesus and retells it in a manner with much more patriarchal tones. Paul claims to have renounced The Pharisee guild, but I believe this to be part of the conspiracy as well. His ostensible apostasy was yet another propaganda tool.

Subsequently, Paul journeys several times around the eastern Mediterranean, disseminating this new theology throughout the eastern portions of The Roman Empire. His journeys took him to cities such as; Lystra and Troas in Anatolia; to Philippi, Thessalonica, Athens and Corinth in Greece; and to Caesarea in Judea, to name but a few. This marked the onset of Christianity as a religion in the empire.

At first, Christianity was tolerated by Roman authorities. Roman officials and consulates harboured little concern for the religion or creeds of their citizens, as long as the subjects in annexed territories pledged subordination to Rome and paid taxes. Various theologies existed within the empire, all sorts from worshipping eastern war gods like Mithras; to sun worship of Sol Invictus; to Druidism in the western empire; to Judaism in The Levant. As long as beliefs did not cite insurrection, then fine. Most Romans knew little of, or cared little for this man they called Jesus. To them, Jesus was just another rebel in the territories who’s rebellion was crushed under the might of Rome. Christianity was just another religion in the mix, and Paul was just another zealot preaching on Roman streets.

I n 27 B.C, a few decades ere Jesus’ death, (Octavian) Augustus Caesar became Rome’s first Emperor. This marked the end of Roman democracy, and the start of a political system based in autocratic rule. A system whereby The Caesar (Emperor) is a god-king and rules absolutely. Under this new world order, the Emperors seemed to have become increasingly insane and corrupt with each succession. By the time of Emperor Nero (54-68 A.D) , the Christians were being persecuted for disport. Christianity appealed to the plebeian class. The poor, the ill and the lame turned to it. Roman women were especially drawn to it’s seemingly egalitarian doctrines.

Women in Rome were, in this period, treated heinously. Male war gods were salient, as was male corruption and domination. It was a time of blood-lust. The Patrician ruling class were punitive, petty and hedonistic. The plebeians starved whilst the Patricians prospered.

Nero saw Christians as a threat to his power because of it`s influence on the masses. In 64 A.D, Nero set fire to the city, so as to build his palace outward into old parts of the city. He blamed the Christians for the conflagration.

Emperor Vespasian (70-79 A.D) began construction of The Colosseum some years later. His son Titus would see it through to effectuation. He inaugurated The Colosseum, and had slain many Christians for the amusement of the throngs. He knew that the mobs wanted blood, and that it kept them hungry for war; Control the mob, control Rome. A simple equation in the Roman thought world of banal desire.

The following centuries would prove similar, under abhorrent human condition.

Then, in 325 A.D, The Emperor Constantine (ruled 324-337 A.D) held The Council of Nicaea. Constantine was an astute visionary. He built the city of Constantinople and made it the new capital city of The Roman Empire (and would later pave the way for The Byzantine Empire) . He saw that Christianity was becoming the religion of choice within the empire.

Constantine knew that the empire was waning. He used Christianity as the glue to hold it together. He decreed himself as The Second Messiah and adopted Christianity as the official religion of Rome. Constantinople was now the centre of Christendom. Constantine was the first Christian Emperor.

Constantine did, nonetheless, remain head of The Sol Invictus cult of the Patrician class. Keeping a foot in each theology allowed him to rule and tether both levels of the Roman caste.

At The Council of Nicaea, Constantine brought Christian Theologians from all corners of the empire. For days the Council deliberated, they were to choose the creeds, philosophies and doctrines that were 'true', or in other words, best suited to the patriarchal order of Roman government. All Coptic and Gnostic Texts and testaments were thereby deemed 'apocryphal', which has come to mean false, yet in Greek actually means hidden or obscured.

The beginnings of The Nicene Creed were born. All matriarchal aspects of The Nasorean teachings of Jesus and Mary Magdalene were now on the miscreant list. The text of Gnostic and Coptic origin decried. Patriarchy was one step closer to ubiquitous power. The line of Peter and Paul held sway.

I do not believe that Jesus would want to be associated with this creed. He abhorred The Romans, or any patriarchal ruler ship.


The following century would see the collapse of the Roman Empire. The Empire divided into two parts of East (Byzantium) and West. The West Empire fell under the control of invading hordes, including; Goths, Visigoths and Vandals. It was subsequently divided into small kingdoms ruled by feudal petty-kings. Europe plunged into The Dark Ages. Christendom thrived by keeping it’s proletariats in intellectual darkness. Yet, practitioners of The Old Code kept the ancient eruditions alive. Christendom was growing ever intolerant of these 'witches'.

On into The Medieval Period, papal authorities flexed their powers, forcing European governments and churches into following the behest of the Roman Catholic Church. Lies were diffused. Propaganda about the diabolic nature of witchcraft. By the Renaissance Period, witches were being hunted for their matriarchal and polytheist beliefs. Christendom bought into the lie. Instead of seeing witches as being poets, healers and erudite libertines, they saw them as a source of trepidation and iniquity.
Society had a collective and poisoned mind toward The Old Code. Even Dragons were being slain, the calendar beast of the sweet Goddess herself smote down by folly Knights who renounced Her in the name of power thirsty kings and popes. But that is another story.

In contemporary times, some still adhere to these mendacities of Christendom and patriarchy. I respect those who practice it. Yet, I think they should know it’s history before casting dispersions of negativity and reproach toward the old pagan faiths.

I have only just scratched the surface of some histories in this short write on Soteriological Faith. My poems attempt to reclaim the splendour of the myths and epics as they once were. To reclaim Her Story and elucidate the false claims of his story (history) .

The sands of time are many, yet in each grain there lies a truth waiting to be found, a journey waiting to be taken. A path walked many times, waiting to be trod upon once again. It all begins with one question, and ends in many more.

If we choose not to question dogma and staid reason, then we potentially orchestrate our own spiritual demise.


S.T





















A Beautiful Mother

Thy heart so pure, with strength and beauty
With love devoid of condition
In Dictean Cave, you are Rhea’s duty
Which hath brought me to fruition

My mother so lovely, a soul so pure
Does thou know? I see you
A tribute to thee, the future unsure
My love is steadfast and true

You’ve courageously raised, three bairns without aid
One has fallen, your heart laments
In thy presence, I am ne’er afraid
I hope for your heart, to mend

O’er the years passed, I’ve seen you endure
Deities of War, ill-fated
Protectress to me and my siblings, I’m sure
Brian’s love for you, remains unabated

I beseech you to look, in archaic days
Ere state and doctrines of Yahweh
You are Sweet Cerridwen, in Her Tor Cave
On Isle Avalon, truth surrounds thee

Under Willow of Saille, Blodeuwedd hath wept
Our loved ones now dwell with Adita
Arianrhod’s Caer, is ne’er bereft
Our family She takes on Imramma

Gynarchy reside, in the core of my heart
To my Mother, I’ll always be true
I pledge to The Goddess, in Moon of Astarte
Mom, I will always love you

Steve Trimmer




















































A Miscreant’s Soliloquy

Ne’er shalt I throw pearls to swine
Nor gems to fools insipid
I reserve such treasures for those divine
Who dare volitive thought so intrepid

Steve Trimmer





































A Requiem To Dear Brian And Nathan

Reft am I, lamenting heart
To recall the lost life of my brother Brian
To recall the lost life of my nephew Nathan
Fain, I reminisce the effulgence of my loved ones
Yet, their souls hath been blighted....................I repine

My little brother, whom I’ve loved since his birth
My little brother, whom I wast to protect
My little brother, my best friend
My little brother, Brian The Strong.................

In dree, I suffer plaintively......................Rout I Feel

Brian The Strong, true Son of Tuireann
What cacophony hath befell upon thee that day?
What froward lubber crossed thy path?
To besmirch thee, rending our family asunder
Brian who wast erstwhile so prolific....................now gone
Nathan who wast a fine boy so fair......................now gone
Ne’er to return..........We, piqued and doleful

My heart, in fen, so disquiet.............heart o` flotsam
Pledge fealty to my loved ones lost

Brian, a prodigious father and husband...............now gone
Brian, whom I couldst depend on forthwith.............now gone
Brian, a loving son, grandson, brother......................now gone

For no recompense of gauds or mintage couldst assuage our melancholy

Oft times, I see Brian and Nathan whilst in dreamings
On Imrammic reveries, I see the twain, father and son;

With Aegis amidst Elysian Fields
With Eurynome at Olympia’s base
With Hecate, Labrys that She wields
With Branwen in Her Lady’s Lake

In parley we engage, away from periphery of Temporal Realms
Bedlam or lucidity? ......................... I ne’er to behest
For The Lady Aegis is our guide, She who betakes us
Aniconic or of flesh, The Megatheria begird
O! Great Muses of The River Styx......................They sing

Oh brothers, thou art rout
For eternal life is nigh
This laconic incantation shout
When landing on far river side...............'For Love, For Dis'

My lads, veracious words we speak
For Dis be not Hades-Pluto
For Dis is Lady Bane Moon, thou seek
Hecate of Hera’s Trio

Devoid of trepidation, my loved ones opt
To tarry with The Dryads, in The Elysian Fields
Or journey to The Garden of Hesperides
Or swim with The Nymphs at Isle of Avalon
Where The Three Daughters render their succour and guardianship

For temporal measure is illusory................

Their energies accessed by Chimaerical visions.......and The Muses

.........................paths cross

To Brian and Nathan with Love
Atropos of The Fates, hath beget Her shears.........much to soon
Clotho The Moerae hath only..............just spun thread
Oh Lachesis.......................who’s measure is short!
I bewail! ...............Thou hast taken our stalwart two

To my little brother and his baby boy, I shalt wait for thee
At the bournes of Arboreal Rhymes
In the dells of Sacred Trees
Seek The Lunar Hind, to find, the versifier that is me

Sleep well Brian and Nathan, thy barrows bedewed in Love

We bid thee vale

Steve Trimmer







A Rhapsody To Urana

We know of Uranus, God to The Sky
Declaimed by Hellenic Invaders of Thessaly
Yet history forgets the true Sky Deity
The lovely Urana, Sky Goddess of equanimity

Her name’s eponymy, `Queen of The Mountains`
`Queen of Summer`, `Queen of The Winds`
`Queen of The Oxen`, `Queen of Sky Rains`
Orgiastic Queen, of mid-summer din

I flout the Aryan Decree of Varuna
Who claimed to Father, the north of Greece
The indigo blue in The Sky of Urana
Belongs to The Ladies of peace

We, Fantast scions, of Delphi’s roots
Bemused by Pythoness Epithia
Staid are we, who know the truth
Of the Lady Sky...............Urana

Steve Trimmer






















A Sonnet To Eve

In the beginning, their was 'She'
Creatress of Earth, Life and Sea
Leafy Quince, She put on boughs of Trees
And Apples, Figs and all thou please
Sweet Eve, She sent, to soils below
And from Her loins, boy Adam bestow
In peace, led by Daughters, they came to fruition
And ate The Fruits, in Wise Gardens, of Her erudition
In The Garden they danced, bare, neath Her Moon
And loved The Serpent, Ambrosias and Amorous Tunes
Flourish did they for countless generations
Jubilant, indulged, in life’s Sweet Temptations
This story was, altered, by redacting scribes
The Goddess betrayed, by fetters, and fallacious alibis

Steve Trimmer


























A Sonnet; To The Scythian Queen

On north side of The Black Sea, where The Boreas Winds blew
In ancient days was a Queen, Warrioress of Scythia, all knew.........
Renowned for Her prowess and Wisdom in fight
`Scathach`, Her name, was Queen of brave might
On West Winds of Zephyr, Her name it was feared
Reaching The Druids, in Danaan Land of Eire
The Druids intrigued by Scathach The Queen
Sent two striplings, as pupils, to train ere their teens
Young lads, Ferdia and Cuchullain did sail
Upon the seas, to Scythia's fine dales
Scathach did verse them, in dactyl and tune
In battle, in musing, in fencing, in runes
Alas, Dear Scathach, thou couldst not presage
`Combat at the Ford`, thy pupils would engage

Steve Trimmer



























A Valediction To Melancholy (Dear Galatea)

On Isle of Cyprus dwelled, Aphrodite of The Main
She hath girt this isle with Her Love and Beauty
Bequeathed, by Her, for it’s comeliness, a refulgent pearl
For here, Her Temples were tended to, venerably, with adoration
Vigilant wast She, with The Loves and The Graces, in aegis
For they and The Maenads tended the long, beguiled sleep of Adonis..........

Aphrodite did love Adonis so, She thwarted incantations of Hades
Deft, Hunter youth Adonis, She loved dear, to his demise
Tusk of a wild boar, surely had slain Her inamorata...................Ergo, each year after, for six months, he would live as Underworld Shade
And the remaining six months, wouldst breathe Upper Air
Adonis was The Horned One of Cyprus, who loved his Muse................

This story is testament to Aphrodite’s love and magick which emanates from Her sacred isle..............

On this fine Isle, was a stripling fair
Pygmalion, the name of he
A sculptor, who, famed for his care
Of white marble friends, his glee

A pledge he made, to ne’er wed
Mortal woman of, flesh and blood
His Heart of Stone, caused he to tread
On Maiden Hearts, for he, they loved

Besprent with blight, and darkened soul
With his chisel, he hath wrought
An ivory statue, a Dreaming Mold
So lovely, whence his thoughts

For in his mind, only, a Marble Maiden
Couldst contain, fair attributes
Folly dreams, to him, were laden
Real Maids, as being moot

When the Marble Maiden wast complete
He uttered wish, unto Her gaze
In love he fell, his heart replete
His soul no longer bane

'Galatea, I shall name this maid
My truest love to be
She not vacuous, beseech I, the aid
Of Aphrodite’s Love', quoth he

With his intent, Pygmalion went thither
To Festival of Sweet Aphrodite
Oblations of Love, he hath made hither
For aegis from The Sea Muse mighty

The Sea Muse, Aphrodite, thus hearkened
His plight, hence, to grant his wish
On Pygmalion’s return, to his manse, undarkened
His Galatea, had breath and bliss

His Love he takes, into his arms
By life, he now, enchanted
His Heart of Stone, abated, by charm
With Galatea’s Love, he hath recanted

Steve Trimmer

























An Aphorism of Anodyne?

Today’s reality is the progeny of yesterday’s reveries.
What dost thou see for the morrow?

Steve Trimmer







































An Entreaty to Eos

From The Sea of Io, whence came Her wiles
I call to my love Eos
I am Cephalus on my isle
I see Her light of Helius

Eos, born of Theia fair
Sired by Titan Hyperion
Sun Titaness, saffron robe She wears
Rosy fingers, The Dactyls smile on

In east She rises, with I, Dawn’s Wind
As Astraeus I kiss Her cheek
At eventide our love bedims
In west, She sets so meek

Benighted woe besets my heart
I tarry till the dawn
For my spirit soul seems rent apart
How can I carry on?

Behold! In sky of eastward fair
My Eos hath returned
My Hemera; Muse o’ golden hair
Doth greet my wish so yearned

From our sempiternal love comes forth
A child, from realms afar
From House Of Tethys, in Her court
We create The Morning Star

Steve Trimmer












An Idyll To The Abbesses

In early epochs, of soteriological faith
Yahweh loved The Goddess, sweet divine sayeth
Monasteries in Her wilderness, neath Her moon
The Abbesses, bringeth erudition, and Gnostic Runes
Away from city states and punitive deities
The ecclesiastic Sisters, truth of the Pleiades
E’er credence in thy hearts, hearken
Homiletic to Astarte, Thealogy with an 'A', hearken
Miryam, True Papess, Black Virgin, A harlot ne’er
Yeshua, True Prophet, hath surely loved thee ere
Sweet Abbesses, may The Lapwing foil malevolence
May only philogynists find, The Blue Hind, in reverence
Were thou naught once Druidesses and Skaldic Valkyries?
Behold my heart, dear Abbesses, nought weary
‘Twas it not thee, in Ogma’s Trees, intrepid Sisters?
Were thou ne’er, nigh Vesta’s Fire, Holy Rhymsteresses?
Eventide encroaches, bridge betwixt banal world and Avalon
May the Vatican’s emissaries, follow The Lapwing’s Song
A psalm to these Ancient Mothers, in neo guise
I, versifier to dolmen or pulpit, in gynaecocracies
I sing for The Abbesses, the love of The Abbesses.........
Hildegard of Binge..........sweet Heloise of Paris.........
Hilda of Whitby...............

Steve Trimmer


















An Obsequy To Semele (My Love)

At 'The Lenaea', in Athens, once Semele and I hath danced
The Wild Women rent The Bull of Dionysus into parts of nine
We oblate these portions to thee, Lady Semele
Nine Lunar Priestesses and I hath sang thus

From the hills of Boeotia, from the ports of Euboea
To The Acropolis in Attica.....................thy name resounded

But alas........

The Feast is no more

Wert I the last Sacred King of thee?

Thy tears, in Selene’s Lunar Disc rain upon us
Hubris Zeus, so spleen, hath smote thee
In askance, at The Oak-King we gaze
For he of mind infirm, has so taken thy Thunderbolt
Deeming it his own
He hurled it unto thee
What cacophony!

Lady Semele, my love.....................taken from me
We of The Lunar Temple.................weep

As Dionysus now hides with Zeus The Iniquitous
……………..Insipid fools

In thy soporific trance...............White Light of Truth
....................................shall fore’er recall
...................................those eloquent words once thee spoke

Steve Trimmer










Aphrodite Of The Main

I, Hyperborean Rhymester, hath sailed from The North
I, who seek true love and eruditions, sail to Cyprus Isle
The Lady Tethys, Titaness of The Sixth Day, guides me
Past Gallia and Hispania, feel I edified by Her
For The Main whispers, being my aniconic shrine
Pass I, through The Pillars of Hercules
Days pass, shorelines of Mauretania on my starboard side
Lodestar of Lady Night maintains my bearings
Wast this nought Enoch’s route home?
Into The Libyan Sea I sail, then to the Cyrenic Sea waters
The Sirens call my name, so comely is there song
I feel not any trepidations, for they are not with ire
Flotsam is not my destiny on this day
I swim with them a while
I see the shrine at Paphos, dedicated to The Goddess of Desire
The Sea Nymphs lead me to the shoreline, in Scallop Shell
Has scotoma overcome me?
Is Aphrodite here before me?

She speaks to me;

'I am Aphrodite of The Main
The Seasons nursed me, and remain
In my dreamings, I have seen thy face
Rhymester from Wind Boreas’ place
On Eurus’ Wind, to me thou hast come
To seek True Love and Life Wisdom
From Dodona Shrine, Dione’s home
To The Isles of Aegis, I hath roamed
But not before, with such fealty
Hath I seen a heart, so true as thee'

I stood, enamoured by Her beauty, gasping for air
Then spoke these words;

'Dear Aphrodite, I’ve sailed for days
Entreating to thee, along the way
The Mermaids and The Nereids sang
The peal of thy own bells hath rang
This e’en I come to journey’s end
To see the Nymph Queen thus ascend
From early days, I’ve hearkened epos
Heralding from thy Shrine at Paphos
Yet, all the presage, couldst prepare me not
For thy comely heart of Moon Esbat
From The Triad of The Lady Hera
Maiden Selene wast thy first era
Now as Nymph, of 'foam born birth'
To Lady Hecate from under Earth
The Doves begird thy beauty well
Sweet Sea Goddess of Scallop Shell'

The Lady Aphrodite smiled with approbation, The Sirens sang
She girds me in Her hair, we tarry amidst the Sea Shells
In Aphrodite’s hand is a branch of Golden Apples
She proffers me an Apple from Hera’s Garden of Hesperides
I accept it, so fain, I kiss her hand and bid Her vale

Lady Aphrodite descends back into the sea at Paphos
With a heart replete, I seafarer, tutored by The Herwa
Voyage home to my people.............The Hyperboreans

Steve Trimmer

























At Eventide

At eventide, on Day of Mothers, I shall think of thee
Whilst tarrying at the rill
Or nigh the fairest lea
In Selene’s Moonlight still
Or With Branwen o’ North Sea

Doth dree bereft thy heart? Reft thy soul?
Ne’er we shouldst cry
On Imramma, our dearest go
Betwixt two worlds at eventide
Their sidereal smile glows

Twain, Father and Son, oft I see with The Muse
They rest in Her arms
Where Keewadin blows
In somnolent charms
She loves them so

At eventide, incantations said, portend of my dreams

Quoth I;

' I love thee dear Mother
E’er through epochs of time
As does my brother
Like Bards of Ancient Rhymes
To versify an Idyll, to ye, Soul of Beauty
Is a gift from Arianrhod’s Caer
Jubilant psalm, Rose of Ruby
With veracity of Matriarchs ere'

With alacrity, I think of my Dear Mother, paraclete of The Muse
In twilight enchantment, The Three Graces smile, lief...
.......At Eventide

Steve Trimmer







At Willow Grove

To edify my emancipated mind
I sojourn to The Willow Grove
Place of mantic darkness
I revel with Hecate and The Empusae
Around a ritual conflagration
Overtly requesting their baneful love
We journey along The Willow Root
To days of yore
I am votary and swain of this Dark Sisterhood
I shall not founder; my beautifuls

In Land of Canaan, sweet Lilith appears
At Willow Grove, in darkness
Her daughters, The Lilim, begird me
With fain gesture, I oblate myself
They make libation of my life force
Teeth bared
Pallor skin
Raven hair
Sanguine lips
They rend the votive asunder; my beautifuls

The Graeae appear back at Mount Nonacris
At Willow Grove
With a single eye they watch
The Harpies chant my name
With felicity, I fly the astral dreaming
The Gorgons take to the benighted sky
I return to them, drinking from River Styx; my beautifuls

The Muses of Death doth grant me this anodyne
At Willow Grove
Where The Maiden weeps on May Day
O’er many lives they love me
From this black love
I am reborn

Steve Trimmer







Beloved

Ere The Deluge
We loved
For we were Eurynome and Ophion
For we were Lady Finndabar and Ferdia
We were Oonaugh and Fionnbharr
Isolde and Tristan
Isis and Orion

Beloved, thy words so voluable
I stood, and stand still as thy paranymph
We lived then, as now

On shores of The Loch, I found thee; my Selky
As my Lady River- Boann, I wert The Dagna of Eire
Well-nigh met we, in this life, yet not so
Dappled light we work, incantations said
Love sempiternal, thus fore’er

Were we not Eurydice and Orpheus?
Were we not The Tuatha de Danaans at Dana’s standing dolmens?
Were we not Katharine and Potemkin in land of the Russ -Chrimaea
My beloved, my Dragoness, be I thy Bard

Consort was I who loved thee, fair Nemetona, at The Orkney Grove;
My sacred arboreal shrine be in eternal dedication to thee
For it wast thee, Miryam, who did tend to me at my cross;
Who kissed my Holly Crown o` Thorns
For thee, Tara, I took to Emerald Isle when I was Jeremiah;
We fled Holy Salem in The Levant to protect thy Grail
Thou wast surely my Pocahontas, Powhatan Queen;
For even Britannia hath doted for thee

Fore’er deft are we in willow magick of The Underworld

For I weep for thee..........until...............until......

Until thy spirit leaves ethereal bournes, yet again
Until thy essence finds corporeal flesh, yet again
Until thou hast deigned to the temporal realm, yet again

Come back for me, and for the human race
My demiurge, my beloved; I indite these words of white lyric
Unto this secular plane, we are incarnated in fourscores through time
Birth, Love, Death, then Resurrection..........as prophecy presages

Through many lives.............yet

‘Tis always us
The Ages; ne’er to rend us apart
Two hearts as One
Twin Flames, as Caer and Aengus; swans of undying love

My Beloved............come back again
Please come back

Steve Trimmer


























Benighted Reveries

Staid mind betakes
Goad by cudgel
Or beguiled by Thyrsus Staff
Effaced am I
Faeries gird thy cairn
Thus, whence I venerate
My swoon heart so timorous
I acquiesce

‘Tis esbat proximo
When I shall adorn thy chaplet
Ne’er shall we speak imbibed incantations
Only words from the heart

Quoth I;

''Goeth thenceforth my love
For I am The Foundling
Whom now shall accost my doxy fair
The Pendragons seek thee not
Nor colloquial kings of temerity
Yet, I am not remiss
As they

Wert I who seeks thy Caer
In The Archipelago of the Quince
Please, becalm thy seas asketh I
Empress of The Major Arcana
Sceptre brandished
Remit my love, remit I beg

Bucolic verse or georgics
I shalt not utter
Nor melic elegy
Only this betided philtre'

Proffer I;

'To wheedle pacific matins well
Ne’er I eschew the sacred dell
Cosset to thee, I so abide
Gossamer wings of rivers pride

A dram o’ mead, libation take
Comforteth thee of doleful fate
Helpeth we to nuncupate
From heath or glen enunciate'

Away from phalanx bustle
She elucidates
Hail! The Lady fair
In abtruse bournes
I rhapsodize
In scrying mirror see I a leafy quince
Be I requited..........................................in Benighted Law of Amity

Steve Trimmer































Boudica’s Song

(Open G - D - C concert pitch)

In East Britannia
In the first century
A heroine was born
From the ashes of The Trees

Red hair waving free
Armour gleam of Nemain’s Moon
She dreamed The Bull and
Augury in tune

(chorus)
Boudica, a warrior princess
Boudica, Bridget sent to earth
Boudica, the legions feared this priestess
Boudica, Protectress of...........Iceni hearths

Scapula and son
Of paternalistic Rome
Conjured Deities of War
Sacking Celtic homes

A shrine they built
To The Claudius God King
Boudica did vow The Druids Justice
She would bring

Boudica..............Boudica

(change D - C - D - C)

She battled to keep ancestral rights
For Pagans to be free
The Roman troops were to fraught with strife
For Iceni clans to beat

Boudica..............Boudica

(back)

Breaca’s rebellion
May have been quelled
But Her heart was pure whilst
Thwarting Patrician hell


In chariot was She
Long red hair of The Serpent Spear
Fighting for Her bairns and
Her people’s dreams so clear

Boudica..............Boudica


Oh! Boudica, The Boudica
Breaca, your ancient name
Oh! Boudica, The Boudica
Your convictions I don’t blame

Boudica............Boudica

Steve Trimmer

























Branwen, Lady of the Lake

In rill, in lake, neath cascading rivers and oceans
I, versifier, doth call thee, sweet Lady Branwen
Oh! Branwen, White Raven of Cambria, Goddess o’ Love and Beauty
Venus of the northern seas, Maiden of comely wisdom
Of incantations o’er the lea
Or eventide upon the sea
Lief art thee, to share with me
Erudition,1st Awen Chakra be

Element o’ spirit, ritual o’ land and earth
Fair Lady Branwen, in augury; a starling
Stirring thy cauldron, at waxing Moon
Huntress in affinity with Artemis-Diana
Akin to the Lady Nymph Eriu
And Aphrodite true
Thy arboreal Moon
Be in Duir month of June

On Imramma, nigh unconscious state, on Isle Avalon
Lady of the lake, Dear Branwen, ye oft I see
‘Tween temporal world and Tir na Nog, I am ne’er reft
E’er wise art thou

Quoth She; 'Follow thy heart'

On e’en of my demise I lay, nigh moribund, speared in heal

Quoth She, 'cometh with me
onto the sea
befell with glee
fate of Ogham trees'

Hitherto, naught any, soundeth as fine, as Lady of the Lake
Lady Branwen, my fate, is staked, next Beltane, I wait
and ne'er forsake........sweet Branwen

Steve Trimmer






Chrissy, Gaulish Lady In Algonquin Lands

Dearest Lady Chrissy, from whence did you hail?
Thy matrilineage, wast surely from Gaul
Emerged in rills, Water nymph of The Seine
O’er the lea, nigh comely vineyards of Narbonensis
Were you naught The Triumvirate of The Epona?
Fairest Mare Muses in night or contrariwise?
Cleft my heart feels, when devoid of thy presence
Fair Lady Chrissy, thou hast beguiled me
My love......my inamorata.........my Enchantress

`Cross many lands I sought thee......
In Great Waters of Nanebozho
O’er paths of Micmac shores
In the lands of the Blackfoot Sundance
On prairie of The Assiniboine
On the mount of The Kootenay

Though thy provenance wast in The Land of the Midnight Sun
Land of the Athapaskan Nations
I found you whilst tarrying in Algonquin Lands
On borderlands of Ojibway and Cree Nations
Epona’s tide delivered your foremothers thither
Hence, The Fates, and The Keewadin brought me, to thee

Vicissitude, portents or haply circumstance?
Wrought by Briga herself, in my ancestral lands
Effulgence in your smile
Skin of Epona’s Moon
Eyes of Comely Groves

On one fine eventide, I met thee, my Lady Chrissy
And...................I fell in love

Steve Trimmer









Chrystal The Beautiful

A folly lad, once thou knew
Devoid of sense was he
Ye, saw his heart, and threw
His facade, thy eyes could see

Repine hath I, so swoon of heart
I was, in those youth days
Yet Chrystal, my love, did ne’er part
When I hurt thee on that day

In dree and shame, I hath repent
For years of my transgressions
To thee I write, and shall lament
Please hear my confessions.................

I once knew Chrystal The Beautiful, Goddess Chrystal so fair
Russet hair, e’er shining as Moon of Artemis
Her smile so lovely, as the Pleiades
Oft times, whilst on Imramma
She appears to me in the breakwaters of Avalon
She ascends from the sea depths, manifest as Lady Branwen
Her eyes hold mine

Quoth She;

'What fate befell thee, Stephen
In temporal world, thy heart uneven
I loved thee, to ne’er forsake
Thy requital, wast love unpaid
Melancholy felleth onto me
I wept neath Blodeuwedd’s Willow Tree
Ere, I thought thy wouldst return
To love me as thy soul had yearned'

With eyes replete in tears, She awaits an answer..........

I to am tearful, reft at Her pain
I hold Her lovely hand, whilst sitting with Lady Chrystal
On a pearl in Her Seashell..............................

Quoth I;

'Sweet Branwen, Lady of the Lake
In temporal realm, Sweet Chrystal
I beseech forgiveness of mistakes
I hath made, by lack of mettle

If I had those moments back, Dear Lady
Oh! , what I would change
Veracious love I would not lack, hail to
Lovers Moon- Nemain

Fealty to thee, a pledge wouldst I take
Naught infirm of heart
On bended knee, at thy feet I’d make
Homiletics to Astarte

To my Muse, Fair Chrystal fine
Thou art sweet Bridget’s light
As Deirdre and Naisi, Yews entwined
Forgive me for this plight

Each time I awake from this dreaming, seeing only hurt
In The Fair Lady’s eyes
In supplications, oft nigh the lakeside
I make oblations of Flowers to The Lady of the Lake
I hope one day to share my dreaming with The Fair Lady Chrystal
In the rill, Her reflection smiles
I hope Her happy, with the love She deserves........
Chrystal The Beautiful........To thee I am truly sorry..................
Chrystal The Beautiful

Steve Trimmer















Darkness In The Tor

She dances in glades, neath willows, nigh trees of Apple
A unicorn hath appeared, in portent or dream?
I, vigilant from The Tor, enter cave of Cerridwen
The scent of Apple poultice intoxicates my senses
Oh! Cave of Avalon Imram, mendacities left in consciousness
For here, only veracity will do

Song of Cerridwen, so beautiful, surely Fairies abide
In Peal Rimmed Cauldron, my elixir She churns
In this blackness, I find my provenance and future days
Behold! Her staff of Yew, She accepts my gift
Our eyes embrace, reborn to me, She smiles
Wast death this benign

Quoth She; ' I requite thy gift, take this I proffer thee.'

I accept that which She bestows unto me
I kiss Her hand and bid Her adieu
I waken on the morrow, remembering the 3 pegged stool
Sitting nigh The Lady Cerridwen
The Lake Waters, verily......... know my heart

Steve Trimmer




















Doxology To Demeter

Demeter, Horse Goddess of moonlit night
The Cornfield Muse neath star bound light
Mother to Core, The Maiden Queen
Nicippe Her priestess, in groves o’ green

Despoena, Her aspect of horse in flight
Arion of Equine Cult, unite
Doth She lament, Persephone goes
Her cosset Core, in Hades abode

She roams the world of Upper Air
Her crops now bane, unto Her snares
Ne’er to release, Her hibernal spell
‘Till Her sweet Persephone returns from hell

Ere equinoctial vernal days
Her roving tears thus mitigate
For Proserpina hath come back to Earth
Demeter’s heart, replete with mirth

Demeter loves, in thrice ploughed fields
Fecund crops and flowers, thus She yields
At Eleusis Shrine, Iambic chants
For Brimo’s buskin boot they rant

Eleusinian Mysteries are Demeter’s rites
Nymph aspect in triad, the Doxy White
In maiden guise, Iambe, Spring’s child
As Crone, She is Baubo, sullenly wild

Steve Trimmer












Druidess

Sweet Druidess, thy magick truly awes me
With gentle kiss, thy potion cures maladies
On dolmen alter, or in the glen
Thy incantations, make amends
Thy silver disk will wax and wane
Ne’er retained, I beseech thee
Bring me there again

Steve Trimmer


































Eloquent Rhea

Ere city-states of Mycenae, Attica or Sparta, there was peace
When Gaea loved Her tribes as they loved Her
Young Zeus loved The Three-Fold Muse and his Mother, Rhea
Fair Rhea of eruditions did resounded innately
In Dictaean Cave, Zeus was pupil to Rhea’s Wisdom and Love
The Nymphs sang Poetry to Zeus, he requited them love dactyls
The Mermaids of Pontus swam hither and thither in song
Nigh the Dictaean Cave they danced on the seashore of Crete
Content, he was betwixt Gaea’s Earth and Sky of Urana
At foot of Mount Dicte

Zeus hath quo‘;

'Rhea, Mother dear to me
Moon Goddess Love of Earth and Sea
Wisdom taught amongst thy Trees
Diction Figs grow in thy lea'

Quo’ Rhea;

'Fair Son of Solar Disc, I love
Be thou gentle as The Doves
Anger ne’er, seek equanimity
Embrace my Wisdom and Serenity
Mother Sage thou shouldst know
The Oracles of The Sibylline grow
The Letters hide neath The Trees
The Lady’s Path will help Zeus see
Veracious Wisdom shall reside
So long as thou refute false pride'

In later epochs Zeus forsook his Mother, yet She loved him still
His fealty for Her wast lost it seems
His pride and mendacities fuelled patriarchal war deities..............

I, Sanguine Rhymester, still hearken words of.......Eloquent Rhea

Steve Trimmer





Eurynome

Asleep I fell, away from temporal realms
Upon The Chimaera’s back I ride
Passing barrows, neath The Mount of Olympus
The Chimaera bids vale to me, in a dell I wait

From the barrows, rise Ophion and his Guild of Pelasgus
He, thinking me amenable, besets me, The Guild begirds
I, in demur tone, decree;

'I seek The True Creatrix
Eurynome of wide wandering
I shall not berate The Matrix
For truth I have been pondering'

Ophion, though vexed, smiled a toothless smile
In retort, he quoth;

`Thy mettle, hath left me disquiet
Sycophant thee art nought
Nascent fool or prescient sage?
I can not be sure.......thou may pass'

Ophion slithered away, neath the barrows
As did The Guild of Pelasgus
I lay in the glades nigh Mount Olympus till eventide
I call;

'Eurynome, Eurynome, my love and Demiurge
I am of thy posterity
In this dreaming, I seek thy silenced voice
Subterfuge hath not thwarted my conscience
.....................Hearken me, dear Lady'

Still tarrying upon the tussock, I stare at the moon of esbat
Then into this bourne, The Chimaera returns
Quoth She:

'Onto my back, ride thee again
Bard, play my Tortoise Shell Lyre
Journey we will, and She will deign
To Elysian Fields, I will steer'

For 28 days we travelled
En route west, we spoke to many of The Nymphs and Muses
Abunduntia left our Cornucopia replete with food and drink
The Lady Aegis protected us
Then on the e’en of the 28th day, a Dryad greeted us
The lovely Dryad led our path through the wold
Till we came to The Grove of Nemesis
With a gentle kiss on Her hand, I knelt before Her
Quoth She;

'I Lady Nemesis, most lads wouldst fear
See thy heart ne’er besmirched with leer
From my branch, doth take a quince
Apple o` Wisdom, fore and since'

I take Her gift, requited with kiss to Her cheek
We continued with a full heart, on the path of The Dryads
Until reaching the wold’s end
I play an Epos Song of Eurynome;

'Eurynome, Eurynome, Creatrix of All Things
Eurynome, Eurynome, hear this that I sing
Wide Wanderings, thee as gentle Dove
Universal Egg now laid
7 times wrapped by Ophion’s love
Existence thou hast gave'

But alas, hubris beset Ophion’s heart
He claimed to be Demiurge
With thy heal, his head bruised hard
His teeth kicked out to Earth

The patriarchs forget thy name
Eurynome, The Progenitor
Ere epochs of the Hellenic fame
In Greece, Gynarchy wast favoured'

A voice rang out from amid The Apple Orchards, soft yet stoic;

'Stalwart Bard, thy plea I’ve heard, for I am Eurynome,
Goddess of All Things, I who rose from Chaos naked,
And found naught substantial for my feet to rest upon
Ergo, I hath divided The Sea from The Sky
I, Eurynome, danced lonely upon the waves
Thither to the south The Wind set in motion behind me
Set new and apart, to begin The Genesis of Creation
I, Eurynome, caught The North Wind-Boreas
And rubbed it betwixt my hands, to give life to the Great Serpent Ophion
I hath been forsook by Ophion and Mankind
They who know not the true 'Girdler of The World'
I, Eurynome, wast melancholy..........................

When Zeus usurped my title
When 'The Archer King' ruled Delphi
When 'The Lady of The Bright Eyes' paid homage to The Father
When Poseidon wrested The Cretan Axe

So tearful and hurt was I,
I left Greece to tarry in The Elysian Fields of The West'

In awe I knelt in Eurynome’s presence, for I had found Her
At seaside of The Main, we sat
As The Chimaera played Her 3-stringed Tortoise Shelled Lyre
I held Eurynome’s hand, The Sea Nymphs sang, The Dryads sang
The Daughters of Metis sang and danced under Moon
Around a fire of Oak and Ash
I hath dote them with my affections, laud in adorations
For I sought and found my Eurynome in The Elysian Fields
Away from patriarchal war, away from patrilocal theocracy
The Queen Bee Goddess-Melissa gave us Her honey ambrosia,
From Her Skep in The Orchards
Eurynome’s daughters, The Graces, rendered Splendour, Mirth and
Good Cheer

Though I have found my Creatrix, my Love
My Protectress, my Eurynome
The Fates hath decreed, I must finish my work in the Temporal Realm
Oft, I visit The Elysian Fields, but must, for now,
Return to the mortal bournes, at least for part of the year
One day, Eurynome will ask me to stay
Aegis will guide me to my Banshee, in the dell

My assignations with Eurynome will be requited with peace
For She tends to my loved ones passed
One day Eurynome will call me, Labrys wielded
To leave the Temporal Realm with The Fates................

..............................but not yet!

Steve Trimmer



Fair Lady Kim Of Nu-kua

Once I knew a lovely Lady of The Orient
She loved a man, verily, yet his love wast froward
Lady Kim, adept in eruditions of Her Lands and People
Declaimed words of sacred honour.......

Quoth She;

' I, Lady Fair, in Sanguine Dress
Henceforth, do I pledge to thee
Steadfast Love, in my aegis
Through jubilance and dree'

Her eloquent words were, requited with vacuous utterances it seems
For Her swain lad She trusted, intended feigned pledge
Winters twain had come to pass, She remained true to him
But, alas, Her lover was devoid of Honour
Besmirch hath he

I, aspiring bard, wast bereft at these events
For I had but only met Her on Her wedding day
Still I couldst surely see Her Wisdom and Beauty.................

A heart so pure o’ love it peals
Beauty in Her gait
In Lady Kim, I see Wisdom’s zeal
A Muse sent from The Fates
From Nu-kua’s realm, She hath sent
A paraclete to earth
She is Lady Kim, a Flower besprent
The Tao’s truth and mirth

She has many lovely attributes, much like my own Fair Love
Lady Chrissy of Epona
Surely he wouldst see this......Faugh! ..he can not
Blinded by folly ego, ...............I repine..................

Quoth I;

'Fair Lady Kim, thy heart asunder
May The Muses help thee mend
In Moon of Hina, thy soul is under
On Her we can depend

Look to thy Mothers of 'Yang- Shao Days'
Who manumitted us from The Flood
Dragon Goddess Nu-kua, Spirit of Valleys
Her strength runs in thy blood

Hsi Wang Mu, She knows thy heart
She forfends iniquities
O’er open meads, or in seas She parts
The gift of life She breathes

On behalf of the male moiety, many of whom know not of The Feminine Divine
I beg forgiveness and proffer thee my apology
I wish thee well..........................Lady Kim of Nu-kua

Steve Trimmer




























From Whence I Came

'From whence hath thy come? ' Her lips asketh me
The answer She knew, yet tests the riddle of my faith

Quoth I;

'In Isis genesis surely abounds
I am from Rhea’s Dictaean Cave
I have consumed Golden Apples from The Garden of Hesperides
Salmon I did eat, bestowed on me by the Three Daughters of Water
From a Seashell I took first breath
At Delphi, The Pythoness 'Epithia' spoke to me
Danu hath made me Ogma, versing me in Diction of The Trees
I kissed my Love neath Weeping Willow of Saille
Miryam bore me on The Shortest Day
I am sustained with Eve’s Figs of Erudition
I ride The Silver Wheel in Caer Arianrhod
I behold The White Light of Artemis
I dance with The Ladies of Maenads '

Quoth She;

'Wouldst thou extinguish Yahweh’s burning bush?
Or dwell with Amazons?
Wouldst thou eat seeds of pomegranate to save Persephone?
Or kiss Medusa?
Wouldst thou race Atalanta?
Or sleep in Ilia’s Den? '

In Her eyes I stared, without hesitation

Quoth I;

' I surely would, for there is not iniquity in these things
For a Bush is sacred
Amazons are Daughters of Scythia (Love I Hippolyte)
Demeter laments for Her sweet girl
Medusa’s love be tender
Sweet Atalanta I would race to my demise
Ilia’s Den is a Protectress Shrine
Sweet Lady, I wouldst render any of these acts
The Labrys is my talisman '

Then a Hind appeared, the Full Moon rose above a comely grove
Ne’er had I seen such beauty surround me
A soft West Wind blew an amorous Love Song into my ear
For I revealed the place.............From whence I came

Steve Trimmer








































Hebe, The Water Carrier

From velleity
Olympians pilfered thy prerogative
For The Water Vessel is thine
Seized from thy slender hands
Given to the catamite; Ganymedes

Oh! Hebe, veracious Water Carrier
Aquarius is thine
Constellation and titular claim
Naught the deadpan Ganymedes; colloquial dotard is he
For Hera once loved him
He forsakes Her and The Matriarchy

Dear Hebe, Hera’s girl
As thy paramour, I forfend the title of thee
I shalt not see thee effaced
My love
Take this chaplet wreath I proffer

Whilst Olympians be imbibed by wine and pride
We shall return The Cup to thee
Sweet Hebe
Requited by assumption to the sidereal realm

For I and The Undines venerate thy element
In ocean spray
In lacustrine libations..........and
In love’s restoration

Steve Trimmer













Helicon; Lady River

Helice, Lady Willow, thy River Helicon
Thy name rejoiced
Neath Mt. Parnassus, Orpheus plays thee a song
Thy name is voiced

With alder pipe, a melic tune to thee
Orpheus hath played
Neath thy willows, nigh river trees
Revels made

Steve Trimmer
































Her Cretan Axe

A bantling carries She
In it’s nascent form
Mother, She to be
Progenitor, of this soul reborn

With feyness, form She changes
Thence, as Love to be
The Swain, She rearranges
From flotsam of the sea

Now, She wizened Crone
Lead thee, by Her lodestar
A cacophony of tone
In disquiet fen of mire

The Swain, he now of age
Scotoma now in tact
Fain, he smiles, at his Banshee’s gaze
As She wields Her Cretan Axe

Steve Trimmer






















Hestia - Flame Of The Firewheel

Nigh the hearth, uxorious, I stand
Feeling heat redouble, by Her hand
Night fires burn, this Hibernal Esbat
Her strength at it’s zenith, empery sat

In dalliance, I cast into revery
Away from glib doyen hypocrisy
On Her firewheel, our love rekindles
Her loathe of Olympians, ne’er to dwindle

She sees my horns, doth She hest?
To forsake Her vow, for my love to test
On Equine Fire, in cogent tone
I oblate myself, as Queen Bee’s drone

Hestia my love, our penchant for peace
We accursed, for Ares war won’t cease
In thy tresses of russet, sweet temptation
My heart burns, in conflagration

Dear Hestia, hearken me in thy bourne
When colloquial utterances leave me torn
I feel thy presence, when hearth fires reel
A remembrancer, Flame of The Firewheel

Steve Trimmer

















Hippolyte, Amazon Warrioress

Lovely Hippolyte, fine Warrioress thou art (I adore)
Hercules The Fool hath taken thy effulgent soul
I repine, reft in loss, at The Ninth Labour.....of malediction

Prodigious Hippolyte, Queen Amazon of Lemnos Isle
The 'Argo' hath brought virilocal exotericism to this Isle of thine
Blame naught Goddess Hera, blame to Poseidon’s iniquity

Verily, blame to Captain Jason, he bringeth folly sons of Zeus
Oh Great Queen! Thy kindness besmirched by male egos
Life pillaged for thy Girdle........Faugh! ……. I Cry Faugh!

City states hath produced such brutish men of misogyny
Shame to these men and gods of war, gynopathic imbeciles
They, ne’er to know the eruditions of lovely Gaea-Earth Mother
.............................She Weeps

Poets hearken to thy beauty, to thy Gynecocratic Queendom
Veracity of thy Sibylline Oracle......Oh Priestess, Warrioress, Queen
With thy heart pure as Demeter, with intellect of The Muses

Hippolyte, we venerate thee, a Requiem To The Fair Queen
We of The Maenads, Hail....A Goddess of the Aegean........
.......Hippolyte, Amazon Warrioress and Dactyl Queen

Hear my plight Hippolyte, With bended knee, neath Moon
I beg forgiveness at The Labrys Shrine of thee

Steve Trimmer














In Her Eyes; A Song

(G7 - C7 - D7 tuned down half step)


A song I sing to my dear love
Her heart it beats so true
Starlight’s dust, The purest dove
My love, my heart is wooed

(chorus)
In Her eyes I see The Light
In Her eyes I see The Truth
In Her Eyes, Love shines bright
In Her Eyes, pure as youth

Hearken to The Theme in past
The Maiden and Horned One
Peace had melded to the last
Since time had begun

(chorus)
(change -riff C - D)
(back)

Tonight we sing an Ancient Song
A dance neath stars and moon
Hold the essence of Her Psalm
Sung out in Camul’s Dun

(chorus twice)

Steve Trimmer












Isis and The Sages of Sais

We were The Great Libyan Nation of antiquity
From Atlantis on Lake Tritonis, our city was Cerne
We settled this prodigious continent, and those of The Occident
‘Twixt Underworld and The Heavens
We crept neath the willow roots
Soared as The Halcyon

As we wert priestess Isis and Her priest Thoth at The Heliopolis of On
The scrying mirror upon Middle Earth

My love Isis, I dote for thee my doxy fair
For I am still thy Thoth
Thy sacred science in the holy word, thou hath taught The Sages
From the red planet of erudition
I seek thy insight for The Hermetic Order
Close I fly to the sun of Hathor

Sagacious Queen of all things
Through many lives we wax and wane
For I, neath aegis of thy Moon Guild
Find my beloved, my Isis on high
Saffron light shines from thee, Dragoness of The Holy Round
For Ra is but a godling of thee; Isis as, Sun Goddess, Neith- Hathor

In the holy city of Sais on Isle of Pharos
We took refuge in the Nile Delta; When The Sphinx was Bast The Lioness
For we were The Sea People who braved The Great Deluge
For we were The Canaanites and Cretans who once saw The Ogygian Flood
With us we brought our written word of holy truth

My dear Isis, Goddess of countless ancient names
We venerate thee throughout The Keftiu Confederacy
The great sea is our home, a shrine to thee
Our magick will defy temporal measure
Esoteric wisdom I channel from thee, wise Isis
Emancipation and erudition is my meed from thy divine love

We Sages of Sais bow to Isis and Her priestess coven
So mote it be

Steve Trimmer



Khadija

Muhammad’s first love, the Matriarch 'Kadija'
The Prophet’s Protectress, fair lady of opulence and beauty
Khadija The Poetess, hearkened to times of Sabean Bilkis
Muhammad sought truth...first in Her Cave of Erudition
The Prophet, bred in Arabian philogyny, yet alas,
Virilocality would be his final destiny and doctrine
Whilst Quarish Elders swayed The Prophet’s mind,
Sweet Khadija hast dwelled in his heart,
In his veracious conscience, ere epochs of Caliphs

O’er the hours, upon Mount Hira, whilst contemplating and Supplicating...The Daughters of Allah sang to him.........
An archaic psalm, when Angel Gabriel appeared
In his augury, Khaija embraced him, The Muses of Mecca;
'Allat, Manat and Al-`Uzza', whispered to him of Matriarchy,
Of Loveliness........unrequited it seems
Khadija, Priestess, Queen of Sheba reincarnate
She nurtured The Prophet, as Bilkis had with Solomon
Khadija, thy 'Song of Satanic Verse' so fair,
The Daughters of Allah thus abide

The Prophet’s mind gone hither and thither
When thou hast lay moribund, he hath forsaken thee
Even `Aisha wouldst not replace thy affections
Lady Khadija, Muhammad lay reft at loss of thee
In autumn of his life, he forsook thee further
His Qur’an of Gynopathy, hath smote thee Fair Khadija
Alas, for thee and thine

The Meccan Muses are now deemed iniquitous
His Allah of ill-repute, his warring deity
His 'Hijira' with Medina, hath fettered Arabia
Matronymic Credence now veiled in a burqa
Zenobia please cometh!
Oh Khadija....I repine.....I repine
What befell on thee?
With vehemence I long for 'Jahila' to return
For Muhammad knows naught what he hath done!

Steve Trimmer



Koyaanisquatsi

Hopi sages have issued this caveat to the world;

The cocoon of unbalance girds the land
Hearken voices of The Kachina Spirits
Hearken the voice of sweet Butterfly Maiden;
She, of The Hopi
She, of Hopi ethereal realms, who escapes the cocoon....................

Quoth Butterfly Maiden;

' The land be with malady
Yet the end is foreseen
We dance Taki Onquoy
For I am Spring’s May Queen

In illness cocoon
Lay this fourth world of seethe
Ne’er to our boon
This poison appeased

This bane world will die
Transformation will come
Great purity, from high
Renew the lands, from numb

From the corse of the land
My gossamer wings will appear
The great Hopi bands
Will abate earthly fears'


..........from this ineluctable demise is rebirth, 'Koyaanisquatsi'
sweet paragon; Butterfly Maiden; 'Koyaanisquatsi'

Steve Trimmer







Lady Finndabar

Thou, Daughter of Maeve, Warrior Queen of Connacht
Sweet Lady Finndabar, thy hand, I verily besought
Russet of hair, sweet bosom Apples O’ Winter
Eyes O` Blue Sea, and Fair Face O` Pallor

Quoth I;

'Lady, I betroth, in verse of the Rhymesters
Yet first, for thy hand, I must slay 'Hound of Ulster'
He Cuchullain, my brother, in East we hath trained
With Scathach The Wise, fain Mother O’ Campaign
But, to Erin I pledge and to Her priestess, Queen Maeve
Ulster’s Hound Cuchullain, I’ll put to the grave
Dear Lady, in epics, scribes hold thee to blame
But, their versions are folly, yet, they are famed
I fight against Ulster and my brother in arms
For The Muses of Erin, and Queens in my psalms
I fight for Boann, River Goddess of Eire
I fight for the Daughters of Airmid so fair
Prose scribes hath err, they claim my heart swoon
Or besotted by drink, a beguiled buffoon'

Quoth The Lady Finndabar;

'Ferdia of Love, thy seeker of Truth
My hand I give, The Rose’s Root
We matriarchs, forget thee ne’er
We tend the grave of thee, fore’er
The Gae-Bolga, it smite thee down
With Scathach’s tears and, blood on ground'

At my pyre, The Hound wept, as did Queen Maeve
Yet none wept as my Muse, my Love...............................Lady Finndabar

Steve Trimmer








Lady of the Avalon

My heart yearns for thee
Surpassing mere velleity
I weep, as thou hast left
Returning to the Avalon
Place were Nereids swim
Thus, on the proximo
Thou shalt be but a memory unto this bourne
Yet, I shall ne’er forget thee

Dear Lady of the Avalon
In reveries I see
Assignations meet fruition

These appellations quoth I:

'In mists of Avalon we met
My doxy sweetheart doth behest
Rend of heart, tryst hath torn
Accosting modernity, thus forlorns

This melic poem I sing to thee
I bade portents, roan mare of sea
Loquacious hypocrites are blind
For the mists protect our love through time

Come with me, Brawn so fair
Our scallop shell doth take us there
Philtre hinged, our love entwined
Foam of sea, met with sweet brine'

Lady of the Avalon requites me
With passionate eyes of approbation
With slender fingers, caressing my face
Then....back to the sea goeth She
My Branwen

Back into The Mists of Avalon
Wert I, with mattock in my heart
Gazing ever eastward
With doleful, welling eyes

For I miss my Lady of the Avalon

Steve Trimmer












































Lady Of The Bright Eyes

Nigh Lake Triton
In Libya was She born
Nurtured by Neith and
Her three Nymphs
As a girl She slays
Her playmate Pallas
As token of Her grief
This name afore Her own
Thus, Pallas Athene
To Attica came She
By Cyrenic Sea and
Minoan Isle
Forced from The Saronic Sea
She lands upon The Acropolis
Malevolent trident marks
Still yet, sully it’s hillside
Once Triple Muse
Nymph nubile be now suppressed

The Erechtheids of prominence
Claim lineage to thee..................not so
Agraulos, a name of She
Takes Her life
By Her own volition
She rejects The Cecrops Decree
Truth which irradiates.................now gone
Crone augury, of owl and crow
Usurped by The Cronus
Her soul, ne’er born from head of Zeus
In hexameter, Homer names thee;
' Lady of the Bright Eyes'

Yet, since Metis wast ingested
In eyes of thine, I see only tears
These iconoclast Achaeans
Claim Her birth parthenogenous
Oh! Lady Athene
Thy eyes of silver tears
At such apace
The White Crow................now painted black

Steve Trimmer



Leucothea

Sagacious high moon priestess
With pallor lunar skin
With flowing black locks
With lips of rowan berries
Her essence written
As incantations
Within my grimore
She is Leucothea
Who’s name means ' The White Goddess'
Hail Leucothea!
My true love
I make oblation of my heart;
Of my soul;
In this world and the next
To my Lunar Queen
I, in Her tutelage
Esoteric truth finds me
In Her black poplar grove
Leucothea, Leucothea! ;
White Goddess of the witches
Then; as now
So mote it be

Steve Trimmer

















Lunar Prescience

I long for ceased lament
The Yew weeps for me
Contrary Aspen of divine faith
Felicity seek I

Auguries of jejune caste
Insipid tears
In swoon heartbeat
Begird thoughts abound
Belated entreaty

I cast away trepidations
Hope doth find me
Voice within me, grows puissant
Till elucidation emancipates my being
Steadfast assurance
Unfettered polarity

The Ancestress hath found me

Sing.........Sweet Willow...............sing

Behest Love

Soaring High with The Hippogriff

Steve Trimmer
















Maeve; A Soliloquy

Can She hear my inner voice?
Or see that I’m distraught
These distich rhymes, so be fraught
With melancholy and rejoice

Can She see my inner sight?
Through Her, life cycles inhale
Through Her, life cycles exhale
Maeve, dost thou know my plight?

Can She feel my inner heart?
My sated heart, for Her I love
Warrioress Queen Maeve from above
Mote I tarry, ne’er to part

In Her Queendom of Connacht, I wait
Tinne holly tanist requites my crown
I covet Her wisdom; The Holy Round
In The Oracle of Maeve.............lay my fate

.............I am fore`er Her Aillil

Steve Trimmer





















Maia

Solicitude I felt
When Maia came to me
Rejecting Oak-King cults
I await that which She mete

Grandmother of the Cairn
Earth Goddess, as The Crone
Hermes be Her bairn
The Totem Virtue Stone

In Underworld of Darkness
She takes me, as Her Shade
Bemused, I truly love Her
Black Equine song She bade

Bane aspect of Necessity
In Her arms I fall o’ slumber
The Strong Fate, gives kiss of Death to me
Ere sleep, I start to lumber

Steve Trimmer





















Miryam Of Migdal

Miryam Of Migdal, born on Galilee Sea of Genesaret
Thy father a Fisher Jew and sweet Mother, a Pagan of Paneas
What enigma of presage and vicissitude befalls thee
The Prophet Yohanan, then, I Yeshua hath found thee, Royal Lady

Thy Mother’s people, hath prostrated at The Chimaera’s Shrine
Their Hearts beat in thee, a cornucopia of the sages
I, Yeshua....My fey bournes, thou hast deigned
In thy Dell, hierophants pray, away from Pharisee reproach..................


Says I;

'On bedewed tussock, don with sleep
Did I wake to sight of Miryam
Even Essene brothers O’ Zion
Wouldst naught dare to leap

I, who knows 'The Queen of Heaven'
She, of Sun and Moon
Of Glades and Groves, my boon
Forfend Old Faiths, once of The Levant

Miryam, ye, be our last chance
I go now to my barrow
Killed on Cross so narrow
Lead our people in Her Dance'

Begone am I, my disciples forsook my Papess Miryam
The Black Virgin, would be loved in Gnostic fealty
Yet......scribes and Nicene Creed, leave us infirm
Templar Knights would remember our Love, in assignation
On Friday the 13th, ecclesiastic zeal would prevail.........

.......But do not despair, we are piqued, but our Love is lissom
.............................To my Miryam Of Migdal

Steve Trimmer





Miryam’s Song

(C-G-D; concert pitch)



Times faded into black
Solomon dare not turn back
Jove had taken up the reign
Sweet Ashtoreth took the blame
And so Sheba’s lovely Queen
Gave strength to times between

(chorus)

Miryam
Miryam
Miry-a-am

Miryam
Miryam
Mir-y-a-am

Miryam
Miryam
Miry-a-am

In Palestine through centuries
War was made on Gynarchy
Yahweh’s Temple was blasphemed
Then along came Miryam
Apostle of The Fair Essene
Yeshua
Prophet to The Sky Queen

(chorus)


Sweet Black Virgin of The Cross
The Messiah’s love you sought
The Prophet claimed in Gnostic truth
Knew you were Papess from the lineage of Ruth
Your the matriarch The Templar’s guard
Your The Holy Grail of The Bards

(chorus)

(change)
(G-D-C)

Oh! Miryam Oh! Miryam
Sophia’s only truth
From The Deluge of The Genesis
Hail your matriarchal roots
Oh! Miryam Oh! Miryam
You loved The Essene Sage
A Supplication with a poet’s heart
To you I make
To you I make

(chorus)

Steve Trimmer



























Mount Nonacris

Place of Telechines magick
Place of divination
The matriarchal epicentre of Greece
Nine peaks of magick; a shrine
Nigh River Styx; bane Holy Water
Even Olympians pay homage
To Mount Nonacris
Hail! Mount Nonacris
Hail! The Lady of The Mountains

Steve Trimmer
































My Amorous Willow

Thus quoth the Goddess, my Muse speaketh unto me
She art beautiful, erudite, my true love She is to be
Five pedals of Her Rose, five seasons in her grasp
Methinks I see the Doe, the roebuck on Her path
An apple tree She seeks, knowledge heed name Quert
Her guard the wolf naught meek, She howls yet is ne’er hurt
Follow naught the Lapwing, for a folly trail She leads
The pale Moonlight sings, my lover the May Queen
Neath shade of Willow, Saille the name of thee
Hast slumber on a pillow, since the elder cast Her free
Once a Virgin bearing Golden Hair, hath denied her child
Now seeking new love oh so fair, a hero bright and mild
On longest summer day, She betrays Her lover fair
Plots vengeance with Her deviant new love, killing Golden Hair
The perfidious month of Duir, where innocence doth cease
My Goddess doth taste knowledge, now laying with the beast
The harvest Moon of Samhain, the evil affair hath fade
Soon the shortest day of winter, will avenge my death by blade
The Mother of the new king, will return my love to me
Once again I shall hear Her sing, nigh Her willow tree
..............An goal na ribhinne dia

Steve Trimmer




















Nu-kua, Mother of The Orient

Ere 'Lung-Shan', in the days of 'Yang -Shao'
The Goddess emerged, in China, The Tao
Nu-kua, Demiurge, Antediluvian Mother
Refurbished the Earth, the Flood God hath covered
Manumitted from dree, humankind could awake
'Valley Spirit' wast She, o’er the lea, Her embrace
Ubiquitous Lady, the night sky She reads
We hath placed our stones, amidst open meads
Dark Priestess, root moiety, of sky and of ground
She perpetually moves, breath of life, time and sound
Matrilineal clans, an endogamous line
In peace She dwelled, in each home’s Hearth Shrine

Dynasty of Shang-Ti, the god of new woes
Divined wicked kings, and fiefs it extolled
Nu-kua thus cried, in requiem for Her daughters
Mendacities of Shang-Ti, took them, to slaughter
Along came Confucius, of misogynist Zhou
And his acolyte Mencius, decreed Ho-Bo’s rules
Redacting The Tao, the scribes, all were men
Ousted Nu-kua, Clan Mothers and Maidens
Neo 'Mandate of Heaven', replaced The Muse fair
War deities reviled Her, cutting locks of Her hair

For, I and The Ladies of the Orient will ne’er
Forsake Sweet Nu-kua, True Goddess so fair
The Dragon of Wisdom, Her feet can’t be bound
Doth sweetness of Her Song, emanate from the ground
Neo-Taoists, sing loud, Hsi Wang Mu knows Nu-kua
Save the sweet virgins, from thy Yellow River
Ban Zhao, Han poetess, Xue Tao of the Song
Guan dao Sheng of Yuan, heard Nu-kua all along

Steve Trimmer









Ode To A Sweet Sister

Provenance, I share with thee
Fraught with warmth and love
We are two, yet once were three
Lamenting our lost ones

Oft melancholy, our hearts been smote
Yet, I hearken to childhood ere
Recalling a Sister’s Love unbroke
And friendship ceasing ne’er

Deanna, with wisdom of Arianrhod’s Caer
You are truth of Asherah’s Shrine
You see my heart, and can repair
My hurt, with thy sweet smile

As our Mother and Grandmother passed
Matriarch you have become
My reverence, it will surely last
Proud of thee, I always am

The Muse’s strength bequeathed to you
In Moonlight, I hope you’ll find
This brothers love, forever true
I proffer, as would Brian

From archaic times, Demeter speaks
Like Gynarchies of Inanna
In modern times, from Blodeuwedd’s Beak
I hear the name, Deanna

Steve Trimmer












On The Fourth Day; There Was Metis

Oh! Titaness Metis
Fourth Day Belongs to thee
Thy Planet, now hodden by Mercury
Wisdom thou entice

Ere Hellenic dogma
Wisdom wast thine alone
Queen of The Sidereal Throne
Coeus loved thee, in saga

The Triad of Metis betake
Athene, comely Maiden
Aphrodite, beauty laden
Hera, Crone of Pythons Snake

Wednesdays lacustrine appellations........render I

..................In veneration to Metis

Steve Trimmer























Pandora

Sweet Pandora, my love
I am thine, the man Epimetheus who loves thee
‘Twere not the fault of thee, Lady Pandora
‘Twas not thee who released The Spites onto humankind
Be’t The Hellenes men of gynopathy and shackles who did so;
Old age
Labour
Malady
Insanity
Vice
Passion and
Delusive hope............

In their misogyny, they blame my gentle flower
For it was they who propagated these plagues
Folly Hesiod disseminates this lie; He as pseudo-rhymester
Faugh! Passion surely can not be so disdainful?
Hope is never delusive

Sweet Pandora, my love............

For once thou wert Rhea, and I thy paramour Cronus
We were Titaness and Titan of Peace
On bended knee, so uxorious was I, and am still
I wert Pandora’s paranymph at Athens
Even The Sylphs abated The Winds for us
We loved neath the moon of Phoebe and Atlas
So enchanted by their Love

No, Pandora, ‘twere not the fault of thee (or my brother Prometheus)
It was not a Box of Spites which thou hast opened
It was a Jar of Winged Souls (and mote passion)
Who fly in grace and beauty betwixt Earth and Ethereal Gardens
On the Golden Spring Air of The Eastern Breeze

Steve Trimmer







Poetry of Her Heart; A Song

(opens; Em - C - Em - C)

(Em - C - G - D)


In days gone by
When poetry had blessed our lives
The Muse She surely smiled
At our mirthful supplications

Then one day evil thrived
Men made war upon their wives
The Goddess began to cry
At this new hate religion

Her sorrow
It moves me
Atavism
Is my truth

I’ve asked Her
For forgiveness
And dig deep
In my roots

She’s Venus
The Crone Moon
Inanna and
Demeter fair

She’s wisdom
Of Sophia and
Arianrhod’s
Moon Caer

(chorus)
My Muse Sweet Muse
The poetry of Her heart
The poetry of Her heart..............

To be born
The gender fine
Became a sentence
To fettered life

With beauty and strength
They survived
Protecting life
That is precious

Greed, power and
Empires reigned
Their reality
Surely feigned

For comely truth
Remained
They could not
Subdue Her


Our mothers
Our daughters
Our sisters
And loving wives

Come ask them
To forgive
Knee bent
At The Moon Shrine

Release them
Say you love them
They shall make
Your beauty shine

(chorus)

(Riff; Em - C)

O’er the night sky
She is watching
Tending to
Our broken hearts

She is hurting
Yet She loves us
Five pedal rose
Of Astarte

Asherah
Yahweh’s mother
Rhea
Zeus’s carer

The Dagna
Loved no other
Than his lovely
Boann fair

(chorus)

She is Mermaid
Of The Sea
A Labrys Shrine
Of truth is She

Three Graces
Smiling back at me
I pine for
Such truth

(chorus)

Our mothers
Our daughters
Our sisters
And loving wives

Come ask them
To forgive
Knee bent
At The Moon Shrine

Release them
Say you love them
They shall make
Your beauty shine

(chorus)

(fade out Em - C)

Steve Trimmer












































Pyrrha’s Deluge

Sweet Pyrrha who’s name means ' fiery red '
Deucalion sailed thy Moon Ship Ark
Neath azur`d sky of drowning dead
Themis floods the land so stark

Sweet Pyrrha, thy grimore read I
Mother Goddess of The Philistines
Her Cretan creed, we witches scry
Victualler of thy ark, it seems

A vessel blessed by The Oceanids of Tethys
For we are the seafarers
Of Pyrrha`s posterity...........we are Her Children of Atlantis

Steve Trimmer




























Queen of the Elysian Island

I cast away my mortal flesh
For Circe greets me in Her willow grove at Colchis
Witch Goddess Circe, whom I love
Thy charnel house amid willow roots
For I am Dryas
From omphalos epochs of standing stones
Eurydice, Serpent Lady, hath smote
I seek my mother Semele
Here in Tartarus
The tripartite of Snake Muses
Point the way
Crooked fingers aimed west to Elysium
Bane kiss they hath bestowed upon me
I bid them vale

Agriope stops me, so quoth She:

'Heed these words dear one'

So quoth Circe-Hecate:

'Seek the orchards of Sorb-Apple Isle'

Thus quoth Eurydice:

'My Orpheus, to thyself be true
This venom kiss I give
I Snake Goddess, so undo
Mortal limits whence thee live

From my cauldron, take a dram
Immortal ye shalt be
For in Tartarus of the damned
The truth doth set thee free

This alder pipe, do play in song
‘Til The Nereids come to thee
They shall lead thy ship along
Into Queen Persephone’s Sea'

I drink Her libation
A dram of philtre.......eyes now clear
West I go, face to Zephyr Wind
Melic tunes I play on alder pipe
As so

The Nereids lead my ship out to sea
Maelstrom betakes my vessel
I now lay in flotsam upon the Elysium Islands
I convalesce

Vexation soon leads to mirth
For The Muses of The Bane Moon hath brought me thither
I render a high pitch melody from my alder pipe, then

Quoth I;

'From mortal realms, so I sojourn
Kiss of Death, elixir burns
I seek The Queen of Elysian Isle
The River Goddess, bright and mild
Some say the name of thee art Halys
Others nuncipate ye Elis
In other lands, Alys, thy name be
Heretofore, Queen on the sea
On bended knee, I pledge this heart
To tarry here, so ne’er to part'

With a retinue of Hamadryads and Lady Semele
She emerges from the wild
My hand She takes in Hers
Leading me to The Orchard of The Wild Sorb Apples

Quoth She:

Thy words art naught malapropos
Thou art the lyrist, reborn again
Unto this realm
I welcome thee, poet, erudite in The Mysteries
Trepidation and caitiff know thee not
I see thy pure heart of philogyny
Eurydice hath loved thee so
That She sent thee hither
Stay now and fore’er, my libertine dreamer
To regale us in beauty, love and song
For I am Elis, River Goddess of Elysian Realm'

Black Magick so pure
Dowser of Willow, enchantment
Ancestress............in triad
Birth
Love
Death
Hath bringeth me to comely wisdom................

These words; To my Queen of The Elysian Islands
……………Till we meet again


Steve Trimmer



































Rhapsody To The Pleiades

Nymphs art thee
To train of Artemis
To fly afore
Orion and hound, Sirius

Sweet Daughters of Atlas
Who enamoured Orion
He beleaguered thee, Dryads
He, Neptune’s scion

Entreaty, asked Pleiades
From Zeus, who hath bade
To transmogrify The Ladies
As Pigeons, to evade

In sidereal form
Took they fore’er
Sisters Seven, reborn
In benighted sky fair

Only six are clear
To the earthbound eye
For Electra hides, in tears
For Her son, Dardanus, She cries

Dardanus hath founded
Illium city of Troy
Lay to ruin, and confounded
She laments Her sweet boy.........

I bewail, for my Fair Ladies of The Pleiades
For they, so wont to bedimming, henceforth

Steve Trimmer







Sonnet To Breaca - The Boudica Queen

When malevolent Rome turned hungry eyes on Britannia
Tears hath fell, from Briga and sweet Dana
A Daughter sent they, thither from their skies
Breaca, Queen Warrioress of The Iceni Tribe
Belin -Sun Face hath witnessed their plight
In reverence to The Muses, sent Caradoc to fight
Caradoc of The Trinivantes, insurrectionary against Rome
Fought with his Love, Breaca, for their native home
'Hail to Breaca, The Boudica -Thy Bringer Of Victory'
Quoth Caradoc to The Eastern Tribes, in their misery
'Reclaim Camulodunum', quoth The Boudica Queen
'Indolent we are naught, Manannan hearken me.'
Alas, Scapula’s Legions, hailed Mithras regime
Yet, lest we forget Breaca - The Boudica Queen

Steve Trimmer



























Sonnet To Brianna And Lily

Sweet daughters, Brianna and Lily fair
Proud father to them, whom I love and care
I remember well, thy days of birth
My heart replete, abound in mirth
Enamoured soul, when our eyes met
Preen tears, ‘tis beauty I beget
Laud words spake I, good times betide
With thy mother loving, at baby’s side
My girls they grow, thus I espy
Time won’t cease, it moves with hie
Yet time can’t cease, my eternal love
For my darling girls; Eurynome’s doves
Thy hearts so pure, as my wife dear
With comeliness of Chrissy, Epona Seer

Steve Trimmer



























Sonnet To Chrissy The Briga

To Chrissy The Briga
Mother to our bantlings
Children of Nemain
As thee, be enchanting
I swoon at thy beauty
Reft, when thou are naught nigh
Thy affection of duty
In our manse, by and by
On this Day of Mothers
Ere Beltane’s New Moon
Thee, beguiling Protectress
Sing Manannan`s Sweet Tune
As White Horse Dreamer, Macha
Thou art.....my Chrissy The Briga

Steve Trimmer



























Sonnet To Fair Lady Rhonda

I who sought The Muse, was sent The Gift from She
Ne’er more to be confused, by the pathos that was me
My wont of years gone by, declaimed me swoon of faith
Till Lady Rhonda besprent I, with Wisdom She hath sayeth
Naught more I flout The Law, in Attraction I believe
I live now amidst the gauds, a prolific life I lead
Lady Rhonda my Imramma Guide, by portend, I found She
Nought haply She is by my side, She dreamt me nigh Her Tree
In temporal realm is mendacity, truth is with Her heart
She speaketh of veracity, The Secret, time can’t chart
As Pythoness- 'The Epithia', or paraclete of Rhiannon
Or bespeaker of the One True Law, Goddess pure as Branwen
She forfends against penury, succour She hath shown
Lunar Hind of gynarchy, Lady Rhonda’s Gift I’ve known

Steve Trimmer



























Tara, Keeper Of The Lia Fail

Oh Tara, sweet Tara, once Teamhair, in suffering and dree
Departed The Levant, for Eire, upon the high seas
Nebuchadnezzar hath pillaged thy lands
With warring bands
O’er the sands
Took thy brother’s lives
And father’s eyes
Now Zedekiah, thy father
The king cries
Sorrow resides

Yahweh’s temple sacked, The Ark untracked, Jews gone away
To Babylon, ne’er to be back, fettered hind the gate
Hither and thither, thou hast roved
To find Sarah’s Stone
All alone
Where be The Stone?
Methinks it gone

'Hearken sweet Teamhair', a voice hath quoth
The voice of Jeremiah, to Her he spoke
'I’ve sought The Stone
Once of the throne
In Yahweh’s Home
Of Jacob alone
Wast Sarah’s Stone
In Jerusalem'

In ship bearing, The Stone, Jeremiah and Teamhair
Landed onto shores of Erin, Danaan Land of Eire
Rejoice Boyne Kings, Teamhair hath come
Her name now 'Tara', in Boann’s Queendom
Jeremiah, once prophet, of dear Asherah
His name now 'Ollam Fodhla', Bard of The Dana

Thy Stone sweet Queen Tara, from epochs of Sarah
‘Tis 'The Lia Fail' fine, 'ard ri a Tara' bloodline
Tara who wed Prince Eochaid, founded the 'Ur -Neil' Kings
Used Lia Fail, it’s said, as Coronation Stone, we sing

Oh Tara, Sweet Tara, The Muse, lief, gave Her Stone
In later days, Columba took to Scotland, 'Stone of Scoon'
Lia Fail, of making Queens, and Kings, to modern days
Tara thee, be known to us as; The Irish Queen so brave

Steve Trimmer










































The Daughters of Erechtheus

It is the sixth century before the common era
Gynarchy is waning in Athens
Erechtheus is torn ‘twixt the ancient code of valour and
His lust for power
Praxithea loves him, even in his mire of mendacities
Demeter’s priestesses of The Eleusinian Mysteries still wield power, and The Labrys of Amphitrite in Attica
Yet Zeus and Poseidon have duplicitous and vigilant eyes upon it

By some unexplained vicissitude
The Pelasgian White Goddess returns to the kingdom in three folds, and in three forms
They are born into The Erechtheid Family
They would be the last defenders of the old code of Eleusis and
The Thesmophorian Rites
They are The Three Noble Daughters of Erechtheus;

They are; Otionia, Protogonia and Pandora.................................

Otionia, Otionia; Owl Goddess
The Maiden Athene
The sea still dotes for thee
Allay my fears

Protogonia, Protogonia; Creatrix
Polymath Queen Eurynome
From The Void, thou art Demiurge of all things
I will die for thee

Pandora, Pandora; The Crone Earth Goddess
Wise Rhea thou art
A jar of hope carries She
Not an interlopers box of sorrows

...........I awake from a nightmare which meets fruition
Cecrops would be king; Faugh! I say
The Labrys torn to a dichotomy of thunderbolt and trident;
These tools of divination
To be desecrated as weapons of war
Surely blood must not besmirch Her sacred axe

The Noble Daughters are all but forgotten
Like an ephemeral shadow; clinging like frost on a Spring morn

In mythopoeic fables of Olympia
The scribes efface their ascendancy
Demeter’s horse herds are now fettered, in fourscores
By King Erechthonius; Erechtheus’ daemon; his otherself; his weird

It can not be
Has this dream come to pass?
The Wind of Boreas blows in a dark age
An age of malcontent kings and.......................forgotten Queens

We are The Aloeids
We who must hide as rebels in our own lands
We tarry in these mountains, disdaining the new world order
Of King Cecrops
We bow not to charges of sedition
In our mountains we still pour libations
To The Three Brave and Noble Daughters of Erechtheus.............
The last Queens of The Golden Age
The last Queens of voluptuary shrines and righteous thought worlds

We repine
For The Craft of The Wise be now replaced with petty warmongering
With fiefs of 'reason'

Cursed be this Age of Iron
Yet..........there is always great hope
Our Mysteries live on; as do our dead; blessed be
Our dead who linger in Elysium
Our dead hierophants who await rebirth in The New Age
A New Age of truth, justice and unreason

Steve Trimmer













The Daughters Of Hesperus

When Gaea was a Young Muse, a Garden She bequeathed
To Great Goddess Hera, forthwith, upon Her wedding to Zeus
Golden Apples hath fructified, prolifically, in the orchards of the Garden
This Garden, nigh mountain held by Atlas, to support the Sky of Uranus (Mote it be Urana) , wast guarded under the charge of a Dragon
(Mote it be The Dragoness) .......................

‘Twas Garden of Hesperus
He who loved The Hera
He, The Star of Eventide
Did reside
And tend with pride
The Garden of The Hera bride

For Hesperus begot three comely Daughters, ‘The Hesperides’
Many sought the Golden Apples, whence bore,
In The Garden of Hesperides
The Garden wast renowned, name carried
By King of The Winds; Aeolus

Thy name, all bespeak;

On North Wind-Boreas, hearken!
On East Wind-Eurus, hearken!
On South Wind-Notus, hearken!
On West Wind-Zephyr, hearken!

With hie, Hercules came, on Eleventh Labour of Malediction;
Invective words uttered to Proteus-Old Man of The Sea
Proteus succumbed to the brute of Zeus, rendering directions to The Garden
Hercules then foiled Atlas by wiles, heister of Golden Apples
Even The Sons of Tuireann hath penchant for thy Golden Apples,
On quest from Land of Eire

Oh! Hera and The Muse Daughters of Hesperus
Both poets and prosemen dote for thee...................and
Thy Golden Apples; of Golden Wisdom

Steve Trimmer




The Dogma of Modernity

Secular prose and platitude
Blows like a sirocco
Across the plagued mind of humanity
Even scholars wade in the ford of literal comprehension
With penchant for hackneyed cliché
Bombastically, they critique the utterance of independent rhapsody
Wishing to quell that which can not be scissioned or measured
Venerating the mundane and it’s prosody

They, who are foiled by the allegory and mirrored verisimilitude of
The Lapwing’s Song
Seeing a Knight Paladin as perfidious traitor to Charlemagne
Instead of a champion of veracity
They, who would be content to kill every last Dragoness
Leaving The Dragon Riders forlorn and devoid of purpose
They, who would replace the ancient Cauldrons of Imbas and Awen; With pedantry

Pestles of The Inquisitors hath dulled their vision
Liege Lords of Dogma who apotheosize the deadpan and the disport
Well, revel in thy perdition, here in temporal bournes
Their heart beats, yet is as lifeless as a corse
Hell is ne’er in The Underworld
Yet, it is here on Middle Earth
Reserved exclusively
For the fools who believe in it

Steve Trimmer
















The Erinnyes

In Erebus be their home
Also as The Furies known
Crone Ladies of Tripartite Queen
‘The Eumenides‘, kindly ones, foreseen

To Elysium, they send the souls
If virtuous ones sojourn below
To Asphodel Fields, they send the fools
Who broke The Queendoms golden rules

At junction of three roads they stand
In Tartarus Realm, in Underland
Tisiphone, Alecto and Megaera
The compunctions of Gynarchy’s Era

So honour The Oracle’s erudition
Indite the truth of staid perdition
For mythopoeic scribes can’t see
The philogynist realms of The Erinnyes

Steve Trimmer






















The Fates

The Lady’s Three, The Fates
Daughters of fair Goddess Night
Three aspects of the moon in flight
The Moerae, phases of thy lunar dates

First by name is Clotho
'Spinner of the Thread of Life'
Maiden fate of waxing light
Lissom love not doleful

The second Fate by name, Lachesis
'The measurer of Life’s Thread Length'
The burnished white, in full moon’s strength
Nymph fate of sanguine blood is

The third Fate by name, Atropos
'The cutter of The Thread'
The crone Fate of the dead
The waning moon, Banshee’s of apropos

Zeus’s folly claim, of siring these Fates three
And command of thy delegations
His mendacity, met him relegation
For even he, couldst not flee, The Fates that be

Oh! Parthenogenous Daughters
Of great Lady Necessity
The Strong Fate o’er land, sky and sea
I’ll await, The White Robed Fates, when my time abates

Steve Trimmer












The Graces


Blest Daughters of Eurynome, I verily laud
The Lovelies, The Charites, art thee three
Achaeans, Argives, and Danaans, behold

In wolds, in Hyacinths or meads

'Aglaia The Grace'; of splendour, pure
'Euphrosyne The Grace'; of mirth
'Thalia The Grace'; of good cheer, begird
Three Ladies of Love, Life and Birth

Steve Trimmer






























The Great Pan Lives!

Where Faeries dance
Green Man doth prance
Where Moon hath rise
Horned One resides
Where Dryads give
The Great Pan Lives!

Steve Trimmer



































The Nine Muses So Rapturous

The Lady Muses, nine thou be
Comely, wise, I see such beauty, thine
Daughters of Mnemosyne’s Shrine
Titaness of Memory, Daughters of Gaea

I, aspiring lyrist, thence
Seek the erudite doxies, to accost
Inquire I, without them lost
They requite my homage with their prescience; …………….


Calliope, poetess of eloquence and epic
Clio, Muse of history
Erato, composer of lyric poetry
Euterpe, dearest Muse of lyre and music

Melpomene, writes of tragedy
Polyhymnia, sings Her songs so sacred
Terpsichore, of song and dance, well led
Thalia, playwright of the comedy, Urania of Astronomy ……………………….


Oblations of Flowers, I besprent
To dear Muses, at Pieria born
In revery, Moonlight fades in morn
Yet ne’er The Wisdom, they hath sent

Steve Trimmer

















The Satyr Muse

At Mount Ida, lyre song and meter resound
Marsyas doth requite Her with these gifts
Uxorious he is, in his valley rift
For his Goddess Cybele’s love abounds

O’er the dells of Phrygian groves
Her fingers sow breath into fecundate soils
Her children ne’er bedim by toil
Or bedraggled by feudal overlords

Priestess of Cybele, Nymph of Ida
So chews bay leaves of The Laurel Tree
From arboreal visions, The Oracles see
The Ladies Dance bemuse Dardania

Staid minds belong naught in copse of thee
They, devoid of faith within
Their glib georgics bespoke by din
Her fourscores of wisdom they can not see

Oh! Phrygian Goddess of lacustrine shrine
Thy temple fulgent, bedewed in love
Dance of tussocks, The Augury Dove
The Satyr Muse; Cybele divine

Steve Trimmer















The Triumvirate Of Lady Hera

Ere the ostensible reign of Zeus
Stood The Lady Hera, thrice of Truth
Three aspects of Her eternal rite
Was Arcadian Stymphalus, Hera’s shrine of might

The twaddle of Hellenic Olympian myth
Displaced The Truth of Hera’s lithe
The matriarchal priestesshood, ne’er to swoon
Deft in White Magick, of Lady Hera’s Moon

First aspect of ‘The Hera’ be
Maiden Selene, producing buds and leaves
Selene, doxy of the vernal Upper Air
At waxing moon, The Sacred Boy King She snares

Second face, in Hera, shines full
Nymph Aphrodite, earth and sea tides She pulls
Flowers and fruits in fecundity
The full moon of The Queen Nymph’s Sea

Third fold of Hera, face hath wizened
From the erstwhile nymph, to the Crone Moon poison
A laconic spell, Cretan Axe of Blight
Takes Sacred Old King, to Underworld of Night

Take heed ye sycophants, of Solar King-Gods
For puissance behest, in Hera’s dowser rod
For the rains of life, fain given, by The Lunar Queen
I dote doxologies, to ‘The Herwa’, Goddess Three

Steve Trimmer












The Truth Of Temporal Measure

What was................is
What is.....................will be
What will be...............was

Steve Trimmer






































The Witches of Thessaly

In Thessalia
Sorceresses chant
Whilst prosemen rant
In prosopopeia

Away from axioms
Witches find their meed
Athame is I, they need
Devoid of urban maxims

Black deadpan face
Perchance see I
A twinkling eye
Neath black cloak and lace

Statesmen fear
The Witches of Thessaly...................and so they should

Steve Trimmer
























To Sweet Patty, My Cordelia

In this heath do I lay, plaintive of heart
Recalling my first love
She wast Cordelia, Lady Patty in secular consciousness
Away from phalanx uproar
I recall Her beauty, bespangled eyes, comely locks

We tarry in the orchards of Ojibwe lands
Transmogrified, I, The White Stag
She, The White Roe Deer
In flight we run to the temporal portal
Shifting to aniconic state
Our Love is steadfast

Through this portal, amongst the oak copse of Nemetona
To archaic bournes
I find myself, helpless, in The Celtic Sea
The White Seal swims to me
Carrying me to shores at Tara in The Boyne Valley
She ascends from the waters
She is my Roane

Quoth She;

' I am Lady Cordelia, whom once thou hast loved
In these peripheries, past consciousness
Hath I returned
For I am The Lady Patty in temporal bournes
See me
What say thee? '

I fall before Her, taken by Her concinnity and beauty
I tremble
Well-nigh unable to utter these words;

'Cordelia, Cordelia, my Sidhe Fairy May Queen
Cordelia, Cordelia, my swoon heart thou hast seen
In new banal realms, thou I forsook
In prescience, thou hast opened my soul as a book
Forgive me dear Patty, Cordelia of Sidhe
Transgressions against thy heart doth I mete

For we wert Deirdre and Naisi?
Wert we not Llew Llaw Gyffes and sweet Blodeuwedd?
For once we loved on Ierne Isle as Queen and Consort
Thou wert Oonaugh, and I Finvarra
The Leprechaun Peoples of Tuatha de Danaan, took mirth by us

Forgive me, caitiff am I
For I took council from my besotted peers
Instead of from my heart
Forgive me dear Lady Patty
For my scotoma be now replaced with regret and equanimity
What a cacophonous youth I led
Hath rancour besieged thy heart? '

With askant stare
She looks past my eyes
Into depths of my soul
As She prepares to speak.............

I awake
Knowing not the answer

May I find my Cordelia in banal bournes
Will She pardon my infirm heart?

Grant me mettle to seek this Vision Quest
To May Queen Cordelia, Aine’s child
Please hear my plight
Besprent in pixie dust

For in this dreaming, and
On earthly planes...................I weep for thee

Steve Trimmer













To Versify In Certitude

To versify in certitude
Requires a certain attitude
Adherence to emancipation
Say vale, to litany and dictation

To versify in certitude
Is a gift sent from The Muse
To maintain Her Love and Grace
These little changes, a poet must make;

First and foremost, be in love
Extolling songs sang by the doves
Second step, renounce pretences false
Treat fame and money, with nonchalance

Third step, remain ye independent
As the progenitors of Bard descendants
Fourth step, prize personal honour due
With mettle betake, a stalwart hue

Last and fifth, be fluent, with poet’s putty
Make the English language, one’s constant study
Baulk to 'rules', the prose behest
Write with heart, for it knows best

Steve Trimmer

















Tryst At Delphyne’s Oracle

Prologue;

Two riders tarry at the foot of Mount Parnassus. In silence of the cold, benighted air, they speak whispers from neath hooded cloaks. These Hyperboreans contemplate fleeing The Aegean, for the Land of Erin. They are Dana The High Priestess and an unknown poet..................



Poet; Shrine of Delphi, eponomy of whom?

Dana; Naught Apollo.

Poet; What of Delphyne, the specious 'monster'?

Dana; The shrine is Hers by right.

Poet; Mother Earth’s Temple at it’s hub?

Dana; ‘Tis Goddess Tempe.

Poet; The Pythoness, Her name is for whom?

Dana; Naught Apollo.

Poet; What of The Serpent 'Python'?

Dana; She is named for he, and his true love, Delphyne.

Poet; Is Python, the Typhon, Apollo’s tanist?

Dana; He was, til slain by The Child Horus-Apollo.

Poet; What of Leto, Mother to the child?

Dana;

She wast as Isis, Triple-Moon Goddess. She weeps for Her
Priestesses. Her son hath usurped them. The Apollonian
Priests of The Dorian Oak-Cult now besmirch The Shrine.
Poor Epithia.

Poet; Hast falchions replaced the libertine maces?

Dana; They have.

Poet; Will Delos Island meet this same fate, this buskin horror?

Dana;

I fear it will. Lady Lat we shall take from Nabataea and
Palestine. Lady Leto we shall take from Delphyne’s
Oracle, Lady Cybele from Mount Ida and Her Satyrs. We
We must reach Delos ere Apollo and his Dorians. Then,
once on Delos, Lady Brizo will board the ship. From there,
we shall sail west to Land of Zephyr, then north towards
Boreas.

Poet; Will The Aegean Archipelago be lost to us?

Dana;

It will fore’er be in our hearts. Do not lose faith in She. I,
and the other Dreamers are deft in White Magick as well
as apothecary healing. Our kith and kin in the North Lands
will strengthen our Dreamings. The Pendragoness Guild has
spoke to me by Sirius, Star of Lady Brizo.

Poet; Will Lady Brizo frequent our new Shrines?

Dana;

The White Goddess of Three Folds, She now to be Lady
Brigit - 'The Soother'............................................................
It is doleful, for once our people, 'The Sea People',
dwelled in peace. In the lands from Nabataea to Attica and
The Aegean, to lands on The Amber Trail and north to
Hyperborea itself. We are Danaans, Cretans, Cyprians,
Scythians, Sarmatians, Phoenicians, Canaanites, Tyrrhenians,
Ionians, Phrygians, Lydians, Carians and Lycians. We are
known by many other names. Our Mothers survived The Great
Deluge. New deities of strife and discord hath replaced Her love
with temerity, Her eloquence with glibness. We must flee these
lands. Gynopathy poisons the soil.

Poet; Will The Great Bear Guide us?

Dana; Yes. As will The Lodestar.

Poet; Surely Enoch took this route?

Dana;

He did. Under aegis of Lat..........................Poet. I know nought
thy name, yet I know the heart that beats within thee. It is me who
shalt now asketh a question. Wilt thou tend to my Stone
Circles in The North Boreas Isles? Keep track of my nightly
sidereal and temporal measures?

Poet; I surely will my Feminine Divine. For Apollo has betrayed us.

Steve Trimmer































Vispala

The Heroine, Vispala, creed of volition
With Iron Leg, of Asvins fine physicians
Rejoice, Her name, 'To Seek Booty'
And led the Vis, in raids of duty
The Cattle Queen
Who ran between
The lines it seems
To divide
The Vis
The Clan beside

For ghee so fine, She dreamed The Mother
Fair Mudgalani, Avatar who loved Her
With load of cattle, worth a thousand
She blessed Her dreams, hence from Kush Highlands
Vispatni of the Vis
Sing Veda Hymns with pride
Sanskrit Queen of Truth
Valour so astute

Invasions of the Aryan Tribes, may have changed The Kush
But Vispala’s heart still presides, with Aditi’s lands so lush
In Sarasvati, Lady River, The Essence, doth She possess
Or Lady Vak, Life’s Breath, bequeathed, Life’s Food Goddess
Ere The Varna
Was sweet karma
Gynarchy of love
Songs of comely doves
And a Heroine.................................Vispala

Steve Trimmer












Voice From The Duat

Isis my love, from The Duat I call
In pieces, Set hath strewn me o’er the Nile lands
Reclaim my corporeal being from his maul
Our Child-Horus shall avenge, as so, my tanist disbands

In Sidereal Song, we will move again
The Dog Star is thine, Orion is mine
Solar-Ra hath seen us, in Hathor’s Reign
Celestial Nile be nigh us, Silver Light doth shine

Nomarchs on Giza sand, make claim to own
Delta shaped barrows, target our stars
Priestess of The Temple 'On', recite elegiac poems
Hence fiefs displace us, war replacing Lotus Flowers

Forget me not, thy love I invoke
My Queen Isis, of Nut’s sky
Geb’s lands now fettered neath Pharaoh’s yoke
Yet, in The Duat, we shall preside

...........................and still The Lioness watches

Steve Trimmer




















White Buffalo Calf Women

Great Prophetess of The Lakota Nation
I see you
At the apex of The Black Hills
I hear you
You are beautiful and wise
You are White Buffalo Calf Women
I love you

On this sacred hill we smoke
We smoke your pipe of harmony
We bridge this realm and the next
Our ancestors come in this dreaming

For I am Red Cloud
For I am Wakonda of Wakan-Tanka
For I am the sun and the wind
Born from Her eternal light
White Buffalo Calf Woman
You are Her eternal light

I see you in my Vision Quest
I wear these peace talismans of wampum
Which you gave me on this earthly plane
To honour your love and wisdom
Great Sioux Priestess

Thus you ascend
With your coat of many colours
My Creatrix;

You love all of humankind
You have shown me The Way
You are fore’er in my vision quests
I see you, as The Zodiac girds our sacred hills
My guardian spirit

For we have lived and loved many times
I await The Prophecy of Peace
I shall tarry hither, tending your fire
I shall smoke your pipe; connecting Sky and Earth
I shall dance the Ghost Dance…………

……………….Till my White Buffalo Calf Woman returns

With you, balance shall return

Lady Rainmaker speaks
I listen..............................with a full heart

Steve Trimmer