Cyber Cauldron

January 6th, 2012

I am a bold and pagan soul travelling through this land,

I judged the world by my own light and I come by my and hand,

and in wish you would ask me where I have learned to live so recklessly,

my skin, bone, my heretic heart are my authority.

My mother was a spin-off of tails,

my father a dreaming man,

and I have swung on the Dragon’s tongue and danced on holy land,

I have sown the seeds about the ground and sung the birds down from the trees,

my skin my bone in my heretic hearts are my authority.

Once I was found but now I’m gone away from the faithful fold,

the ones who preach that holiness is to do as you are told,

through law and scripture, priest and prayer have all instructed me,

my skill in my burn my heretic heart are my authority.

Now they tell me Jesus loves me,

I think he loves in vain,

he must go unrequited on me he has no claim,

for the man who would command me must wear the horn and let me be,

my skin that my burn my heretic heart are my authority.

And while I breath this glorious air and outlaw I’ll remain,

my body will not be subdued and I will not be saved,

and if I cannot shouted loud I will sing it secretly,

my skin my bone my heretic heart are my authority.

Catherine Madsen wrote and it’s one of my favourite poems.

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