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In thanksgiving for the eucatastrophe of Christ

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*Friedrich Ohly, “Dew and Pearl: A Lecture,” in Sensus Spiritualis: Studies in Medieval Significs and the Philology of Culture, ed. with an Epilogue by Samuel P. Jaffe, trans. Kenneth Northcott (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2005), pp. 234-50.

On pearls as made by oysters from dew, see Pliny the Elder, Natural History, bk. 9, chap. 35.

A Pearl of Great Price
by Rachel Fulton Brown

Prose explains itself. Poetry bemuses,

manifest in its pentameters yet

veiled in its significance, like a pearl

hidden in an oyster, mystic, divine.

I read an article this afternoon*

about the death of inspiration, how

poets no longer look to heaven but

only within, their wounded souls the source

of all their musings. Once upon a time

they prayed to God, opening their minds, shell-like,

to the stars, as oysters awaiting the dew.

Now, however, we no longer believe

in dew-dropped pearls, wedding heaven and earth

at their confection. Pearls, we say, are like

scabs, the oyster’s self-protection against

invasion, excretions of nacreous

goo, hardly the stuff of poetry. Alas,

cold hard facts win. The spiritual sense

dies like shrimp in the oyster’s briny maw,

enveloped by the hard coating of science,

and poetry with it. Sing, Muse, of heaven’s

kingdom—but the pearl-strewn path is gone, swept

away not so much by knowledge as by

poetry’s dependence on the oyster’s truth.

— January 8, 2009

As they climbed the staircase and ascended,

Draco Alchemicus.JPG
Chasing the Alchemical Dragon
by KJ Crilly

In Pharmakeia’s pixelated world,

which holds the fractal myths of times gone by,

the Dragon’s whispered lies slowly unfurl,

to captivate men in his mirrored eye,

suspended seventh heaven ever nigh.

But one comes now, intending to restore

the world with a creative battle cry.

And who is this, this reconquistador,

this champion, come to take our part in this Art War?

— May 24, 2023

Mathematic Rivalry
by KJ Crilly

She was in thrall to esoteric signs;

symbology and little charms and fate,

the currency in all her grand designs,

accelerated her excited state.

It was a frivolous but harmless trait,

or so he hoped while calculating times.

“The thoroughbreds will soon be at the gate.”

He thought about statistic paradigms

and placed her wager to subdue her frantic mind.

— June 6, 2023

Sleepwalking through the Apocalypse
by KJ Crilly

A lone Mad Hatter parceled out black pearls

on Commerce Street’s dystopian remains.

Under the streetlamp, shades of Van Gogh swirls

ignited in the fever of their brains,

and courséd through the longing in their veins.

These lost boys cued with hopes of getting well

and circled ’round the block like human chains.

They were the system’s favorite clientele,

oblivious to Pharmakeia’s magic spell.

June 13, 2023

the bears saw crystal shapes carved in the frost;

by Mel Wiggin

Make sure to ready your candle!

The end will be hard to handle.

Better pass the test

on the day of rest,

kneel before the Tabernacle.

All knees shall bow to His Splendor.

Let His Mother be your mentor!

Be a humble wife,

key to joy in life!

Behold, Thy Heavenly Treasure.

Light, like the trees of Paradise,

Almighty Bright One’s sacrifice

repairs the bungle.

Was the fruit fungal?

A mushroom? Eve knew no malice.

Praying to attain indulgence

inhibits truthful divulgence.

Say the rosary, 

give joy to Mary!

Crown her with golden refulgence!

Fill the temple with His presence;

all spills out, light, smoke, and incense.

Book of Chronicles,

more Tabernacles,

symbolic Heaven—opulence.

Strength and beauty, sanctuary,

loving must be voluntary!

God gave us free will.

Christ! One cannot kill

fruit of the womb—Virgin Mary.

Glorious pillars of mountain

hold up the ceiling, veil curtain.

Jesus’ ascension,

ladder descension,

angels go to and fro’ Heaven.

Sun, moon, and stars, all vaulted in,

birds fly unaffected by spin?

Covenantal arch

the flame of love Spark!

Lifted from this realm—Assumption.

Forgive us our debts, Jubilee!

Give us Justice and Liberty!

The Holy Bright One,

His beloved Son!

Pray for Hope, Love, and Charity!

— September 30, 2021

Necropolis Now
by Mel Wiggin

Haunted by sins of omission,

possessed by the red magician,

an apocalypse

is now in our midst,

hunted by the Leviathan.

Slender like an ouroboros,

hunger for children like Chronos;

poison the weak mind,

of urban mankind;

revelation of Thy cosmos.

Eyes blazed, casting the Hypnosis,

DNA Metamorphosis!

Brain-stealing dragon,

evil Abbadon,

lost surrendered metropolis.

Using the blood of innocent,

torpedoing the firmament,

a mass hypnosis,

new necropolis,

obfuscating this incident.

He did it all so subtly,

winning over everybody.

They allowed him in

to my great chagrin

for material vanity.

Nothing to fear but fear itself!

It is not caring for our health;

the hive mind flayer

needs a host player,

slave for profits, and unearned wealth.

The new enemies of the State

reject false controls of our fate.

Ears tickling spell,

unafraid of hell,

the many choose the wider gate.

Elder brain stole the media,

obscuring apophenia.

A hypnotic spice

turned men into mice,

obsessed with imports from Asia.

How to help our long-lost brethren?

Our goal is not to abandon

buildings or cities,

their amenities,

but welcome them into Heaven.

You can't hear the Apollyon?

The monstrous, chittering dragon!

Repentant of sin,

only Christ within,

living outside of Babylon.

Slay the Leviathan on sight!

Armor of Christ—clothed for fight!

Off with dragon’s head,

praying for the dead,

Judgement Day—be children of Light!

— October 11, 2021

drops of sun and with them snowflakes blended

Black Ark
by Kilts Khalfan

The Temple Maid upon the hallowed earth,

her providence to Logos resonate.

Purest sound in royal Virgin Birth,

the sonic God revealed in mortal state.

The Light of Christ in Glory incarnates;

as psalms were strung by David on the lyre,

so Virgin Mother sings Davidic praise.

As Shunamite, she wailed in pure desire;

Black Ark of God: her holy body tree or fire.

December 8, 2021

Vessel of the Lord
by Rachel Fulton Brown

“Hail, Mary!” — cue the chorus of the ’net.

“She’s nothing but a vessel for the Lord.

It’s foolish to expect her to offset

the sins with which her mother Eve was tarred.

There’s nothing in the Bible that I’ve heard

to make me want to risk my soul for her.

Her soul was just like ours — a clay-bound shard,

coal-black, just like the light of Lucifer.”

And yet He came to earth to shine for us through her.

— December 8, 2021


into a crystal bridge with archways crossed.

Dragon Tryptich

by Kilts Khalfan

 February 21, 2022

Dragon Song, by Cheryl Butler-Drake and Rachel Fulton Brown — February 28, 2020

Archspider of the Interwebs, by the Dragon Common Room — February 3, 2021


Milo Electric, by the Dragon Common Room — November 24, 2021

Pigeon Cloud, by the Dragon Common Room — February 23, 2022

Abortion Games: The Lady Priest, by Rachel Fulton Brown and Cheryl Butler-Drake — June 27, 2022

Halloween Militant, by KJ Crilly — October 31, 2022

The God Above, We Love, by Mel Wiggn — November 1, 2022

Dragon’s Hoard, by KJ Crilly — May 24, 2023

The Sign of Six, by KJ Crilly — June 6, 2023

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