The Mystic Fire
In the crucible of the turning world
the alchemist’s furnace smoulders,
salt, sulphur and mercury fume
pluming like clouds across an endless sky.
A voice booms:
“View the foundations well that here are layd:
This is the seat that the eternall mind
For universall monarchy designd.” (1)
The gold of fools is ever tempting
though this is not the gold the furnace yields,
the ‘stone’ alone transforms vile greed and hate,
the gold of fools feeds this rapacious gluttony
enslaving all who seek the glitter.
The serpent eats its body whole
clearing ash and dross away,
as the Phoenix rises from the mystic fire,
soaring higher, ever higher.
The cycle of eternal mind
spiral-spinning, turning, pulsing
forever rising and descending
draws us inward
to find our place within the flame.
(1) From Hermetick Raptures by Torrescissa (Alchemical Poetry 1575 – 1700 ed. R.M. Schuler. pp. 584)
The silvery sea reflects unknowable shapes
the pre-dawn-dark eerie and confusing,
she strolls undaunted over wet sand
foaming ripples cooling her mind.
The first orange rays glisten across the sea
kissing the crumbling sand dunes
dissolving those strange sea ghosts,
a warm peace and calm descend.
She drops to her knees on the white sand
marvelling at the singular solitude
unthinkable in her native Europe,
a pilgrim on the global route to Byron.
A morning meditation in the arms of nature,
the wave’s gentle crashing sooth a busy mind,
the lack of city noise calms a modern mind,
she drifts into the deceptive spirit of The Bay.
Blood curdling screams resonate inside her head,
cries of anguish pulsate against her temples,
her heart is racing, thumping hard
as she falls helplessly into an unchartered time-warp.
Whale’s blood drips over her eyelids,
shrieks of splintering trees pierce her ears,
howling anguish of slaughtered indigenous spirits chill her bones
muffling the screeching death-cries of cattle and pigs.
The invisible time-warp portal closes,
sparkling blood-red reflects in the calm sea,
peaceful solitude returns
her bewildered mind returns to Bay Central.
Her morning meditation agitates her deeply
as she pushes frantically down the crowded concrete,
clear to Bundjalung Elders The Bay holds deep secrets,
hidden beneath the ‘New Age’ crass commercial gloss.
A transubstantiation transforms whale meat into Vegan bread,
preservation, conservation replaces ‘Big Scrub’ destruction,
the Light House may be coming full-circle
as the energy of the new Cosmic Dance heals The Bay?
NB: Belongil is a beach at Byron Bay, the most easterly point of Australia. Now a haven for back-packers & home for New Age healers, writers, artists & musicians it recently was a place of slaughter – trees, animals, whales and Indigenous Australians!
The old crone screams
her voice as jagged as broken glass
face as callous as dry leather
inflicting her anger
her self-centred obsession
on the peaceful shoppers.
The target of her tirade
sits stunned and bemused
a calm peaceful lady,
passers-by shuffle awkwardly
their day tarnished with vile distress.
The crone strides away
her invective still stewing,
eating her inside like acid.
She returns, the screaming starts again
tinged with the hatred of self contempt.
My coffee arrives seductively
the fragrance a joy to the senses,
by rote the waitress recites:
“Have a nice day!”
The crone has gone
the air is clearing
peace descends on the cafe
just another day in Nimbin village.
White Birds and Epsilons
The white birds silhouette the sky once more
each Spring a reassuring Nimbin return,
soaring to and fro from their secret cave
deep below the sacred rocks.
The philosophers no longer stir
the old graves serene,
troubled searching souls are now at peace
every searing question silenced
drowned out by the silent roar of smart phones.
The dumbed-down shuffle forth
heads bowed in techno-obedience
texting within a solipsistic nightmare,
techno-bondage with invisible constraints
from which there is no possible escape.
Huxley’s Epsilons shuffle in single file
each connected to mind-control-central.
Dame gorgon Google the keeper of all information
has become the dominatrix of perception,
the whore of spiritual disintegration.
New shiny micro-towers litter the verdant hills
terrifying the old guard with invisible rays,
enraging even wise old Nyimbunji. (1)
Thousands upon thousands of Epsilons drifting,
shuffling past the peeling painted facades,
none shift their gaze from the smart phone screen.
Oblivious to the blueness of the pure sky dome above,
Oblivious to the wise white birds soaring,
Oblivious to the answers they carry.
(1) – Bundjalung – “little spirit man with great supernatural powers, he is powerful, wise, generous and kind.”
The Madonna materialises
pulsing out of the digital vortex,
the eternal mother of all
dismayed – down cast eyes
fall upon the disaster before her
aching with a deep sadness – unmistakeable.
The digital matrix is silent
changing states, on-off
climbing in a spiral of complexity
towards an unknowable future.
Always busy we Epsilons,
the subjects of her observations,
arrogantly oblivious to her concern
mindlessly fall into the future,
uncritically embracing every techno-gadget
mercilessly hawked by capitalist opportunists,
sold with false promises of progress
devoid of wisdom
a pathway back to the primeval swamp.
The Mamata despairs – retreats,
disappearing into the silence
realising too late
we no longer smell the roses.
Rob Harle is a writer, editor, artist and reviewer – born in Sydney Australia, August 1948.Writing work includes poetry, short fiction stories, academic essays, and reviews of scholarly books, journals and papers. His work is published in journals, anthologies, online reviews, books and he has two volumes of his own poetry published – Scratches & Deeper Wounds (1996) and Mechanisms of Desire (2012). Recent poetry has been published in: Rupkatha Journal (Kolkata); Nimbin Good Times (Nimbin); Beyond The Rainbow (Nimbin); Poetic Connections Anthology; Indo-Australian Anthology of Contemporary Poetry; Rhyme With Reason Anthology); Asian Signature; Muse India; Voices Across The Ocean Anthology); Episteme Journal); Indo-Australian Anthology of Short Fiction. LIRJELL Journal; Homeward Bound Anthology; Voices Across Generations Anthology. World Poetry Yearbook. (2014);Temptations (2016); Taj Mahal Review.
His past art practice was sculpture, then digital-computer art both for the web and print. His giclée images have been exhibited widely and featured both in, and as the covers, of various literary journals and anthologies.
Formal studies include Comparative Religion, Philosophy, Literature and Psychotherapy – his thesis concerned Freud’s notion of the subconscious and its relationship with Surrealist poetry.
Rob’s main concern has been to explore and document the radical changes technology is bringing about. He coined the term technoMetamorphosis to describe this. This past concern is now moving towards helping to restore our abandoned metaphysical and spiritual modes of being through literature especially poetry.
He is currently a member of: Leonardo Book Review Panel. Manuscript reviewer for Leonardo Journal. Advising Editor for the Journal of Trans-technology Research, (UK); Advisory Editor for Phenomenal Literature, (India); Member of Editorial Board for: Episteme Journal, (Bharat College, India); International Journal on Multicultural Literature(India); LIRJELL, (Lingayas University, India); Ars Artium (India); Iris (India); Daath Voyage (India).
Full Publications, Reviews and selected writings are available from: www.robharle.com