The Cauldron Mind

by - 2:47 PM


The Cauldron Mind
Upon the heath my straying steps
Bore me afar o’er windy plains,
Where thinking wakes and worry sleeps
And pondering brings greatest gains.

So philosophizing I
Wandered long in search of thought
To lift the burden on mine eye:
The net wherein my hope was caught.

What hope was caught? The hope of my
Own mind’s release from misery.
These thoughts were filled with things which die
And nights that end in agony.

I knew not whence nor why there came
Such pictures in my mind of woe.
For though all-changing, they were same
In meaning – to one place all go.

So followed I the stream of thought
To find its source, and then once found
To see if I could stop it up
And force night shade back into ground.

The wind blew harsh and without rain
To ease the mind or lift the strain
Of seeking thoughts and eyes whose pain
Is wrought in what they can’t attain.

My steps did stagger – faint I grew
Until, at last, ahead espied
I drifts of smoke which rose and flew
Over the deep-gray countryside.

There, just before me rose a brake
Of hoary trees whose twisted limbs
Obscured all sight that I might take
Of what was lurking deep within.

But cared I naught – my purpose set:
I’d pledged to seek until I found.
So pressing onward I then stept
Onto the low and leaf-strewn ground.

The fen was dark and sad and drear;
With rays dim-green ‘twas solely lit.
And yet, for dark I had no fear;
I found a path and followed it.

Deep into woods the trail did lead
Through stands of oak and birch and pine
Which all were wilted - none bore seed
To resurrect their fading line.

Grayer, still grayer grew the light
Darkness was coming on apace,
Until with sudden black, the night
Did overwhelm the evening’s face.

Twas then I saw glint through the shade
The reddish light as of a fire.
Leaving the path, new route I made:
Unto the light my steps aspire’.

It took not long, for moment one
I was in dark, and then the next
A clearing’s edge I stood upon,
And looking in I was perplexed.

A fire indeed there burned whereon
Was set the hulking, bulbous shape
Of an enormous, black cauldron
Which in a fog was wreath’d and drape’.

The fog did pour from cauldron’s maw
And spreading, first obscured from sight
The form of a woman. I saw
Her at last in the fire-light.

Come,” she called in voice as low
And soft as wind. At once obeyed
I her without a thought. Did go
And by the fire-side I stayed.

Do you know who I am?” asked she
No, I knew not, I soft replied.
With look as dark and deep the sea
I am your subconscious,” she sighed.

I was amazed, and could say naught.
Enraptured, I beheld her lift
A long, black spoon to stir the pot
And whatever did cook in it.

Look in, if you do wish,” she said.
I leaned in close to watch the fumes
Which ‘bout the cauldron’s mouth were spread
As thick and dark as helmet-plumes.

Then, there, deep in the swirling pot
I saw a form flit up and out,
But in the fumes the ghost was caught
And angrily in shrieked a shout.

Convulsing in its vapored bonds,
At last, ‘twas melted into them
As if a spider’s poisoned fronds
Could liquefy oblivion.

Another ghost up-rose – like child
It’s form was, but an aching sore
Did spread across its visage wild
And like a feral wolf did roar.

Again, the ghost was lost in mist
As yet another rose to light:
An arm with clenched and bloody fist
Which held a dagger wrought of night.

Down into fumes the blade did strike
And vanishing, gave way to a-
Nother ghost, this shapèd like
A dead rat wrapped in eagle’s claw.

But then the rat’s ope’d eyes did gleam
Bloody-red ‘fore ‘twas dragged away.
Up from the cauldron’s mouth a dream
Of forests dancing came to play.

Dancing, wilder than the wind
Tree clashed with tree and melded one;
They rocked and shook and cracked to spin
Insanely wild - and then were gone.

Lastly, from the misty veil
Upward rose a ghastly face;
It’s eyes were black, and visage pale
And in it’s hands it held a mace.

Crashing down the bloody ball
Shattered mist like window-glass.
With the blow there vanished all
The ghosts – like echoes of the past.

Looking up with widened eye
Stammered I “What foul mind
Made these things?” In soft reply
The woman smiled: “This mind is thine.”



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2 people are talking about this

  1. Let me say it again: AHHHHH I love this poemmmmmmmm so much!!! It is deliciously creepy, and it should really be the start of an epic :D

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  2. -blinks- I'm not even sure why I am still continually surprised by your skill with poetry

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