
The wild fennel is growing in my garden,
From the Santa Monica Mountains,
Only a few seeds thrown around my land,
From the staff-sheath that I have,
Near my hearth.
My wild Promethean fennel,
Smells of licorice and earth,
Feels like numinous beats,
Waves from the coastal region,
Myths revealing through my soul.
Prometheus freed by Chiron,
Fire consumes my heart,
Compassionate green healing,
Of my mind and dreams,
Love will grow tall and strong
My wild Promethean fennel.

Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Author: Hudley Flipside
Artist, cartoonist, writer, author, publisher, and Maenad.
Punk rock is my prominent history to share. I grew up in the San Fernando Valley in Los Angeles County. Co-owner, editor, and publisher of Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine 1979 to 1989. Living during the 1960s, 70s, 80s, 90s and now the 2000’s… decades of history to share. My project currently on the horizon is a documentary film. Episodes, a humble creation story, about Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine.
View all posts by Hudley Flipside
One thought on “Promethean fennel”