I am practicing my lines
Please don't listen too closely
Not yet, not at this rhyme
My name is from my grandmother
And it means gift from God
Hollowed descent from the Baptist and the Revelator
To unveil - has been my burden since birth
For I was even born on the Feast of Ephiphany
That self same feast that in times of old
Was revered and held sacred not for gifts
Or wisemen or a child in a manger
But for the god Dionysus it was held
When he returned from beneath the earth
And took a human vessel once more
I was also born in the year of the Serpent
And am just naturally twice as subtle and wise
My stars are the half fish half goat
And like Capricorn I am between
(Always and ever between the two)
Land and sea, love and hate,
the past and the future, here
My stars are they that transform in the face of Argol
And I am the transformed
(Do not read too much Scripture here)
The transformed comes from Marduk
And be careful, for like him, I will trick you
(But then, none of my tricks will ever be meant to harm)
Only to teach some greater lesson,
For no serpent hoards their wisdom
I share mine all the more
For my father was not there to share his with me
And I do not resent him for this
My father's house contains many old kings
Some long forgotten and others still here
Their haunting choices still bearing fruit
Through him I bear the blood of the Magne
Charles the Great of all the Franks
Through him I bear the blood of Ganger Hrolf
The Viking King who fathered the Conqueror
William father of a thousand Kings and Queens
Through him I bear the blood of Raughalach
And the old Irish Kingdom of Briefne
And through him and these lines
I bear the blood of Angus the Divine
and I bear the blood of Freyr the Divine
Both esteemed above all others in grace
And for the most comely faces
I take no self pleasure in this gift
I am merely its keeper and caretaker
Meant to pass it to my sons after
As my father passed it also to me
But while his descent may be of the highest
He has chosen to go among the low
He is an advocate for my people
And fights for a million widows and orphans
And as such he practices the very truest of religion
But do not tell him this great secret
For like all, his past casts darkest shadows
And he has rejected the hard hearts of the church
For they have also rejected him
And so it being such a mutual displeasure
I will speak no more of this matter
My mother's line is not of noble blood
But rather hers is of the truest blood
Which rises to each and every occasion
Hers is that which has risen to power
And to the most of all promenence
Wherever an opportunity has been seen
Look and behold the lines stretching far
The preachers, teachers, elders, and councelors
Look again and behold the business men
Presidents, Merchants and millionares that stand
All not upon some ancient pedigree
But rather upon their own energy and capacity
Though all will still give the glory its due
This is my family and my lines as they are
Though they spring from Europe's oldest soils
They have come and pooled in Africa's depths
And there they have found their own beauty
A fragrance of flowers not found anywhere
There were the turtle doves greet the morning
There were the soil is all the shades of blood
The land where the earth brings forth diamonds
The land where the Souther Lights dance
These are my people
And though they may be boorish
Though they may be loud and fight
Drink too much wine
And say things they regret later
This is their way of life
And they have it because they have died
And their children have died for it
Look among the records there
You will find my mothers and fathers
There they are fighting or starving or dying
And I can never thank or repay them
I can only acknowledge them
That they had the will to go on
And so in their memory too
I shall also press on
None of them were ever perfect
And I make no apology for them
But I also thank them dearly
For I think I may also never be perfect
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