[ibogaine] who I am/The Drumming of Eboka
jellking at yahoo.com
Sat Jul 6 04:29:24 EDT 2002
Hi, sorry for the previous blank message. Accidentaly hit control something or other instead of control-v (for copy here). This is the earliest version of the poem, and the one I think is most recent after ibogaine. (Mbiri is, according to the sources I had at the time, the female cult, who honor Mary as "first woman"). Jane
The Drumming of Eboka - Jane King
People of Mbiri, what are you chanting?
Your drumming pierces me;
I'm throbbing to your beat, not my own.
My sight is transfixed, my body jerking..
Are you ghosts? You seem so alive,
in an opalescent universe.
You flash by so solemnly, so knowingly.
You watch me with
Resignation in your sad eyes,
and hold up to my enraptured gaze
Jewels, spears, bones and shields.
Perhaps it is me who is flashing by.
Native mother, in your gleaming canoe
With iridescent symbols, and your glowing,
breathing hair so comforting and long,
Where are you paddling me?
Your Brave, so solid, so strong,
laughing because he is with you,
Is deeply reading your thoughts and mine,
while you, reading the river with every stroke,
laugh gently at me, for I desire to splash the water,
but am fearful of making a sound.
Are we all together, precious mother, or
Am I lying here, suppressed, repressed,
and rigid, while you go flashing by?
Where is my body? Is the pain that I feel
The same as the pain I inflict?
Does the stern god push us, so we have to fly?
If we then fall, break open upon impact,
How many images go dancing,
glistening and bright, along the horizon,
Just as you dance, people of Bwiti and Mbiri, along the shore?
I paddle by you; you are watching me, people of Bwiti.
Your native mother, so much like mine, increases the flow of the rivers,
As she swells the tides.
Is that what makes you drum so loudly?
Do you respond to her with throbbing?
I have heard her singing--like your drums,
her voice throbs and pierces.
It is too beautiful; you cannot hold your body
in one piece any longer and it becomes
a flock of gulls, who rise with the sun, and flash by.
What's left of you, what can't ascend with them,
sees sparkles in the sky,
If you go to the center, if you try to find the palace in the river,
Red and bright , solid and cubic, you will meet her -
She is there with the god; she is teaching him the tricks of ascendance.
These tricks are simple, but not easy.
She will put things inside you,
for you will open to her like a sluice gate in the river.
You will open your mouth for the wafer of communion,
And she will give you the whole god.
He needs you too, for he is always going deeper;
for him descent is ascent.
His path is spiral like a rain forest plant
or the mind of this woman or a galaxy of stars.
He seeks out those who wish to entwine.
from inside, the god will push you off the ramparts,
But flight is not what you imagined it to be.
You will split open,
and will become dancing particles of love, like fire flies
When they ascend from being glowworms.
Mother, mother, consciousness is sweet and pulsing,
but you paddle so softly
And the canoe is so warm; it is hard to leave.
This god you put in me teaches me to burst;
now, please, you teach me to gather.
And then my love can glow like your canoe,
With its shining symbols and its swift,
smooth flow on the water,
As I paddle past the people of Mbiri, and their drums
Declare my presence, and that of
your transcendent love that flows through us
And binds us to each other,
As paradoxically we both entwine and fly,
and as we gaze, and listen, and drum and chant together
The songs of jewels and spears, of bones and shields
And then flash by.
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