Occult Symbolism of the Holy Grail Myth

The cup continued to exist
where it all began is quite unknown
how it went where it wanted
not a story, but a cycle
being dominated by those
variants, I remember color
and smell
the individual effort
an esoteric recovery
that thing greater
than the world
through purification
you stand and set
your life in order
I have few friends now
my relations are ceremonial
not to say snooty or overdetermined
but mutually charged with desires
for a certain type of outcome
there’s always pain
maybe I’ll go out
what do you think’s
going to happen?
the story of a friend
who went hiking, and got lost
found a stranger, who
walked him into view
of the church tower
back in town, they
talked so freely and
energetically, later realized
they’d crossed the river, bone
dry, unaware. And the river
in this story isn’t real,
or the stranger or
the story, it’s the telling
they say all language
experimental
handheld altar
does God feel compersion?
I thought about it often
If God is love, I’m fucked
because I need God
to accept love
and affection
scanning for the transcendent
in other people, enduring
what was better never
to have been, I was looking
for a way out, and could see it
in the language
the things I read
a boat rowed to Avalon
how Simone Weil says
believing in a Heaven
robs dying of its purpose
winds change fast
sick of the discourse
sick of the vibe
sick of the discourse
sick of the vibe
sick of the discourse
sick of the vibe
sick of the discourse
sick of the vibe
Camus observing
how evenings
in certain landscapes
must provide
a sad relief
how expressing a desire
initiates it’s fulfillment
at night, my eyes
turn to the sky
the cup, the dish
the lance, the sword
the grail, not a thing
a site of transmission
devotional poetics
and so look and pray
ask and wait
St. Francis of Assisi nearly blind
by an excess of tears
and the seeker of the grail?
well, it all relied on asking
the right question
beyond the castle, the wasteland
and Mouchette (1967)
having swaddled herself
suiciding into the river

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Ben Fama lives in New York, NY. His novel, If I Close My Eyes, is available from Sarka Publishing.