#the meniscate

[neokamui414]

I work at a dry cleaner, so I don't think my work resembles that of carpentry or locksmithing whatsoever. Nonetheless, I had THE DREAM.

This is what you get for taking blurry photos of the Wolf Moon, stuff yourself with extra spicy Szechuan fried chicken, and go to bed early.

So I present to you a terrible surrealist poem that I've written about / was dictated to me in the Secret Histories inspired dream I had last night:

Knock is the question. The Three Ladies are each an answer.

One is the Moon, One is a Serpent. And the Oldest of the Three is of both natures.

I am out of joint and have been stirred up, made to be a Name of The Moon. I must divide The Two Who Are One and unite that which is Divided.

And rain. Everywhere there is rain as I sit in the doorway.

The Beachcomber guides the way, and as the crow rests in my hands it becomes both the cross and the key. Now it is I that becomes the secret keeper, the voyeur.

With it I travel through places that are made from my memories. But my memories they are no longer.

Places in my hometown that I know are not real. Places that I have never been.

I break through brick walls and move backwards in alleyways. I fly not through the air but through the solids of wood and concrete.

There is a sauna where The Forge and The Grail meet. Bodies are made glowing gold and gleaming bronze by wet fire and the molten impacts of people's copulations.

There is a warehouse whose windows are shattered and whose doors are long missing. Now it is a church for a God of commerce and production who never came.

It is night time as I run through something that was made from bits of my city's college campus. There is snow in the air but no clouds in the sky, only stars and the jeweled eyes of insects.

I fight monsters that resemble the ones from children's games but I know that they are not. For when she is inside The Moon, the Mother births more than just snakes and ants.

I meet a pair of women, I do not know if they are sisters or lovers. The bolder of the Two steals something precious from me, I try to bribe her but she does not return what she stole.

Then I remember that I am the dreamer and she is the dream. Thus I rip out each one of her veins, with my beak, or perhaps with my fangs and jaws.

Now I am that Sister and I stand in an opera box that resembles a cell padded with black leather and latex. The show I watch does not reveal the performer's gender, even though they dance completely naked.

I converse with a babe in a restaurant that does not exist but I remember it. We talk of salads and I know this is a test from the Goddess of Childbirth.

I sit naked in a chair on my front lawn as I watch my family try and save cats and dogs from drowning. There is so much rain and I cannot move.

I understand that there is a third time that is neither day nor night with neither sun nor stars to rule it. Only clouds, and rain, and the Moon that is both with me and within me.

And then I wake up.........

[bars-across-the-sun]

What are Names of the Meniscate, Sun-in-Rags and Madrugad like?

⊰-–—–-⊱ THE MENISCATE ⊰-–—–-⊱

The Names of the Meniscate are of moonlight and shattered glass. They are crafted without a form intended, and those she treasures are hidden in her mirrored House of the Moon. They are of light but hide in shadow, using it as inks and poisons. Their blood runs black and pools in dark shadows.

⊰-–—–-⊱ THE SUN-IN-RAGS ⊰-–—–-⊱

Those of the Sun-in-Rags are cold in presence and touch, creating a fog as they chill the air around them. Blood is in their footsteps, a consequence of the Ascent of Knives. Despite their cold, a light can be seen within them, warm and orange, but ever freezing. They are of ice, and they are as beautiful as they were when they ended their own mortality.

⊰-–—–-⊱ THE MADRUGAD ⊰-–—–-⊱

The Madrugad's Names are quiet and stiff as the stone they are recrafted into. They keep tallies, assisting the exchanging of Years, as when Years are given, some must be taken. They are cold, but only as an autumn dawn, frosted lightly like morning grass and wet with dew. They keep graves marked and watch over the dead so they may rise and serve when summoned.

— As is written by the Nonnigus

[artificial-radiance]

meniscate painting done =w=;;

took me 10-11 hours to paint this [i worked on literally nothing else yesterday]

[oswald-privileges]

Well, I was trying for Moth but I guess I’m going to live forever in a mirror instead??

[artificial-radiance]

wip of another painting [this time of the meniscate]

[catmansquad]

The Meniscate, who was once one of the Names of the Sun In Splendour when he walked the night.

She is found in moonlight, her light is cold, she walks the Orchard of Lights as He once did, we cannot turn away from her.