Marcellus
Official Website of The Poet,
Champion of Immortal Shakespeare and Eternal Love,
Author of the Book of Sonnets Entitled
Botticelli's Hollee
MARCELLUS SONNETS
Excerpts from Botticelli's Hollee
“
Apology to Hollee 2
As I am far and sealed in my just tomb
Right buried by lack of self-mastered skill
In expressing my love, its very womb,
I resign that justice would of it kill.
Not by harsh or unbalanced enmity
Would be your motives in this endeavor,
But simply for peace loving dignity
Would you rightfully cure my love’s fever.
So of your deep stilled waters which balance
The love of your mission ‘gainst this world’s strife,
Please try and forgive this Love penned of chance
To light up my heart with love’s swellings rife.
For love do these sonnets only proclaim
A love loving ever your sacred aim.
“
Botticelli’s Hollee 3
O mistress loved light-born of sacred art,
Whose heart blooms growing where all sunsets swoon
From ancient days where Hapi ran His ark,
Past glimmering temples soaking up His tune:
Your lotus roots ply Heaven’s great expanse
Where rich in blackness lives a gold white-lit;
A treasure by whose measure stars enhance;
A beauty soaks thy stem, life’s painting wit!
A painted love to me thou must be not,
Lest should this muse of Him find lacking worth,
But be thy heart of such fine knowing sought,
It finds in me a love that transforms dearth!
As pungent roses breathe from light love drawn,
So Hollee flowers forth the coming dawn!
Unpublished Sonnet Samples
116 Thy Sunlight’s transformation
Pale gold diffused by moist refraction’s mist,
Frames tracing trees their auburn silhouette,
By light suffused an autumn evening kissed,
Doth glorify rich Thy prism’d etiquette;
Flourishing still a gilding to my heart
By ancient love renew’d, complexion’d light
Plumb weighs, what doth Thy mystery impart
Of a molten foundry’s crucible, whose wright
Gold hammers still, hard pounding at star’s mill
Sparked luminous, Will’d pure, by showered blows
Which dauntless dazzling smash dark shades, to thrill
A forging, brilliants this: an eye that knows.
This way fired gold o’ertakes hard hammered lead;
A flow from low above that transforms head.
“
“
261 The Milky Way
Dreamy river, not of this world minding
Your still ornaments flow beyond wonder,
By spinning infinite time unwinding
Turn you a galaxy’s gems to ponder.
Who dips their oars into Thy milky flow,
Which ceaselessly doth stream at happy gate,
May float alight amidst a grander show,
To drift amidst thine axis minding fate.
No length nor breadth have you, Old River Man
Whose veins shine glimmering of every hue;
All music, art and measured treasure can
Unmeasured rich be found to flow in you.
As an ocean you whirl ‘round every head,
A dream sparkling weightless, bids me to bed.
“
22 Of Shakespeare
True let it be concurred before abjured
That it be no small thing of an affront,
By him whose pretence penned proves perjured
By a shallow shuffling of the Master's font.
So rest assured I be not so low grown
To think that I ensconced could ever sit
So close, by proximity, to His throne,
But by this long to wink and think by wit.
Yet as some distant meteor must catch
The dazzling glow of one great hurtling Sun,
I nonetheless would by my worship match,
What He hath made to make of me undone.
Caught I some tiny light of His constructed,
These sonnets by His Love, were Light-instructed.
“
32 Of the Sonnets
Let those sworn right feel then no shame in this,
That most could not perceive intended meaning;
A script that sealed, concealed, by genius His,
Which most deployed what common lacks perceiving.
For blazoned be their purpose not to sell
The way He knew which few be liking of;
A defeating feat of self by Self to swell
What breeds a Sun whose greatness be enough.
Enough to wrap the heavens in one’s embrace,
Back bending humbled while in glory chased;
Enough to banish hate and want apace,
Head set to sun and feet to moon embraced.
How then utter what his quill reminded,
When His heart’s light-lightning, false-shade ink-blinded?
“
4 Love’s Weaponry
This day I took a sword glint-made of Light,
A sight Sun-forged by Will, sharp-honed by ages,
Fashioned as if by angels’ thoughts cleansed bright
Cooled-hard by blows ‘gainst what soft-clasps in cages.
So did folly's darkness, false-fancied free,
Raptured sung to un-won heights that peak,
Feel swift the blinding edge, its sharp decree:
Give life to all, yet cleave thy nature's freak!
Such rot trimm'd quick fed I to nether realms
‘Excalibur, thy Holy Grail held high!’
Which by such rights emblazoned on Thy helms,
A soldier’s tale is forged to slay false sighs!
Whereof, to my Lord's long entertainment,
Thy name, pure instrument, be ‘Discernment.’
“
6 Hate’s Vanquisher
But Thee after whom my Hollee is shaped,
Who cast light-blasting her formula made,
You who but guard where that glory is capped
‘Neath that pyramidion which cannot fade:
You do but redeem the truth of flowers
Your blood being the life of every stem,
Your heart the Sun flooding sunshine’s showers,
Your shield defending what stems true men.
You are the vanquisher of wasted sap,
The source of the river that breeds forth stars,
The defender of purity, its root to tap,
Who weeds out treachery’s rot cankered scars!
Your are that Lady who rides with the moon,
My treasure, earth’s measure, discernment’s high noon.
“
578
Then let that river flow from what is dammed,
To flood the very marrow of thy bones;
And beauty treasured held, be ten times tamed,
To release that golden essence sweet skill hones.
Would that thine eye so crystal gaze in sight
Catching what it beholdeth in its gleam
As but the molding, chaff or bark whose might
Springs sprouting from that source, a loving stream.
Distilled may you have then caught reflecting
That face of blessed love which knows no blot;
That fairest one, fares best false love rejecting,
Which sure as quickly brings all life to naught!
All things do this way shine if thou no thing
Have loved apart from That which All doth ring.
“
23 Communication with Shakespeare
An arrow peerless piercing ponderous mind:
Sweet be the fragrance of my pungent lance;
Which hurled ‘cross farthest reaches speeds to find
Thy sacred altar replete with mind’s still’d trance.
Brighter than comets plumed with feathered tints
Of platinum, turquoise, tangerine and rose,
Rich humming notes strum-thrilled mid thrilling glints
Flies what aims to announce my dear purpose!
Gliding swiftly, a flash fashioned glibly,
Shot past Arcturus and Alderamin’d
My thought perfected be there visibly,
To soaring caress a bloom to Thy mind!
So fear not my absence from galaxies far,
By thinking’s caress I’m with you dear Star.
“
148 Claiming Winter’s Warmth
When winter’s ice heaves earth to cracking stone,
Summer slips its once-green bounty inward warmed;
With branches bare, trees freeze as living bone,
Quick-coffered then their spirits dream, ice-charmed.
By this sleep’s dream cold-dreamt sleepless climes enfold
That loveliness brimmed which made the summer hum
Of breathing souls inhaled of sun’s bright gold
Who ice encased now swoon to slip sleep-numb.
This, just as men, whose lives with bustling rife,
Low cold-laid are by winter’s frozen scythe;
To time’s quick rounds submit their daily strife
So inward slide where ice lives shining blithe.
Yet siding lusty thrusts, the world’s ways gifted,
One may one’s winter keep, its dreaming lifted.
“
“
263 My Prancing Steed!
Fast-sped, flushed soaring o’er field’s ruddy reed,
Outstretched-prancing, of far glee-fancying,
Bold-galloping, wild wings my lovely steed,
Tossed of an Eye o’er daisies bowed dancing!
Spurred on You leap forward past all restraint
Wind-ripped, whipped zealously, ne’er to be tripped;
O’er lakes and oceans dauntless hurling Thy gait
To outstrip Old Time, geared fast-whirling slipped!
O lancing Angel of flames faring faster,
Chasing after Your thirst, truth-parched, you grin
As that charmed-charger who bearing his Aster
Rides high as the elite of Heart who win!
Such be Thy mount star-minding to master
A gait gallant gleams, but faster and faster!
“
27 Of Shakespeare
O what of Thee, vast Lord of Seeing Light,
Whom some have wrought, because they feign no fault,
So fathomed have an ordinary sprite,
Of brilliant mind and phrase, quick-turned, sum dealt.
And thus, so dare, expounding visionless,
Speak dumb-struck sworn, but not of Your grand vision:
An oddity rare of common manliness
Whose blights and lusts bound common division.
Contrived, Thy wisdom winged of higher sight,
You warbled to the heart, its common lot;
Where sweet love blind must sour its slave forthright;
A lot cast sought with lots of knowing not.
Yet where the Gods high stand in fields neglected,
You alone shone love which Theirs reflected.
“
33 Of the Sonnets
Should it be dreamed that I am first to see,
Among His penned urgings to breeding Thine,
The magic hid that seeds the Poet’s tree?
Dismiss such folly, be it thine or mine.
For surely right will see, surmounted keen,
By those brooked past the fog of nature’s log,
That 'midst four hundred rounds of seasons seen,
Were others saw His meaning meant to fog.
Though folly soiled comes by shades to foul,
As the Master Will’d to Shake the Spear knew well,
Still ancient truths hid new of wisdom’s soul
Took others past the bait who would not tell.
Yet buds what would His truth disseminate:
A spring that clocks back curtains cloaking fate.
“
5 Love’s Enemy
Another day I took what steals all judgment,
What soft emollient blunts all eyes their sight,
What love’s of gentle warmth and cold’s engagement:
A wedding ‘gainst my heart’s true loving might.
How sweet then seemed the taste of covered rot,
Which glistened smiling fanciful and free;
How tempting was its jail, its stenching cot
Which sweetly flowered daisies blissfully!
How saw I nothing of what true was there
Amidst a sea of ever-tempting forms;
O sweet what joy’s fulfilment sought I where
The sourest dregs of hell breed forth but worms!
Whereof, to my Lord’s bitter bereavement,
I ate the world’s due, so graved agreement.
“
580 The Armed Knight
Steeled, don thou thy coat of armour’d mail
Which drips as silver mid the moon’s light glow?
Hone thou thy sword’s still edge to bright avail
Against that one where two would lay you low?
Prepare you then to arm ‘gainst treachery
Where treachery most lurks to bring you down,
Amid mind’s mud, slime numbing lechery,
Which lurks within what claims ‘gainst nothing sown.
So think on this that’s free from slavery,
Where slicing shadow and its fretful frights,
A sun doth don its armored livery
To dazzle splendid fold its gold’s delights!
For by this outfitting, defeats Old Time,
Dead lead gold living arms all stars that shine.
“
581
Love you of this, a state of Muse bereft;
The fecund folly of poetic worms;
A delight in inking mud, by quills plowed deft
To plot a darkened soil of papered forms?
Then look you not here for any solace,
Find nowhere in this writ what leads to glory,
For ingloriously here eyes turn from hence
To dote upon His Muse and sacred story.
For here writes forth the wisdom Shakespeare wrote:
A love of opposites enjoined past flesh,
Which single shines as do all stars which dote
To see Old Time laid low, love ever fresh!
Spurn ink indeed, where well a pen sips light,
What’s famine to feasting on sour love’s black bite!
“
405 Rebellion Against “Schooling”
Untutored high makes below obvious
My schooling in an age illiterate
Which taught of me to be oblivious
Where dumbed-down teaching be inveterate:
Discerning past the truth of image feigned,
I revolt ‘gainst molding of the offered mold;
An inveteracy ‘gainst lines mad founded
That my Love’s verse resist, Time’s blotting told.
By rebellion Thy word rung most, sung true,
Hails bright ink-tongued, tipped crisp of words, whose proofs
Hidden by conviction tell most of You,
Who laid low Time’s meddling to graveyard spoofs.
This meddling I learned more within than out;
A teaching taught seeing what’s roundabout.
“
583 Worshiping Shakespeare
Liberated to equality’s chains
I’m Self indentured to unequal good,
Raising my status to lowering gains
I cut myself clear where consensus stood.
So bid me blissfully crushed by the wheels
Of Your grand chariot rumbling ‘cross heaven;
Thrilled to be dimmed ‘neath Your Sun-spurring heels,
Black booted in night that’s adoring You driven!
Unsure of myself, full confident in You,
Of ink I’ll drink drooling after Your verse,
In love with all pens pen-worshiping too
The beauty You dyed hate cannot reverse!
A spark serves as slave his Thunderbolt Lord,
Ink-burnt, pen-bleeding, I worship Your word!
153 This Verse be not, but for Thy Love
‘Tis true that such poor verse should right offend
My Lord’s so juxtapos’d, or all who lent
What’s rarest parable’d where rare souls tend,
Tortured of folly, the world’s beauty rent.
Moreover then, what poor hopes have I here,
Where brash boasting I utter, verse open,
Truths that prudence would by half better hear
Hushed-cloaked, obscurely whispered, if spoken?
A fool then were I but for Thy love enjoined,
Which for loving Love, dotes on Love giving;
By beauty dyed if from Thy muse purloined,
A power that sings forth Ever-living:
For this ivory tower which I mount,
Mounts a pen live drowning in Thine inked fount.
“
114 Botticelli's Hollee
Thus was my love for Hollee no gamble,
Its loss but a re-shuffling of the cards;
My bet upon her heart no fleeting ramble
Made newly thrown tossed to tumbled regards.
Long cast have been the dice of love which say
By rules stone-tabled on that gaming deck
Cut of hieroglyphs, just how we may play
To trump all other hands without a check.
Let this new round then its new cards hand out
Which decree of my numbers, jack, king, queen,
The losing of my hand held close, heart-stout;
No cards fold scuttling where my love is seen:
For when to Hollee all the cards have fallen
My love is aced and no winnings stolen.
© 2018 by Marcellus.
BIO
Who is Marcellus? The simple answer is that what he is to the world is illusion so why clamor after it? He is no known poet, no known teacher, no author until now. He carries no fame or credentials. Yet if he has accomplished anything in the service of Shakespeare, know this: He feels he has had to overcome every conceivable influence of modern education and social engineering to do so.
Partly for that reason, he is content to be just as invisible as Shakespeare was; for “if” Shakespeare was known for the true writer that he was in any worldly sense—and Marcellus has grave doubts on that score—his profound reality, his true nature, was certainly unknown to the world. Thus, this realm is filled with masterful forces that work to cloak the extraordinary, as in the case of Shakespeare, with the banal, as in the idea of him as a common man. In this way some external form will cloak the fact that Marcellus is an ancient soul, with an ancient memory, who seeks its full awakening.
As such, he is one who yearns to overcome all the deceptions of the physical state in which this world so sadly mires itself. Shakespeare did not yearn for but accomplished this fact. By so doing, he was able to write Sonnets which have no equal as a means to transmit the wisdom which facilitated his own self-transformation and Self-realization. Worshiping Shakespeare in this light, Marcellus defends and expounds the wisdom of his beloved Master through sonnets of his own. It is from among these, sampled above, that he has published those fueled by a Divine Love of fire for water -- hereafter known as "Botticelli's Hollee" -- a love that is both Eternal and beyond all Desire.
THE WISDOM SHAKESPEARE KNEW
The Egyptian priest Keptah speaks:
“To you nature is chaotic, swept with the winds of anarchy, senseless, inspired only by violence, and clamorous but essentially purposeless life. Civilization, to you, is man’s pathetic attempt to bring order to nature, to regulate in into some form of meaning, to guide its pointlessness into some semblance of significance. To you nature in its seeding, its growth, its death is a sum without an equation, a circle encompassing nothingness, a tree that flowers and bears fruit and dies in a grim desert. Such thoughts are lethal; they are freighted with death.”
“You are wrong. Nature is absolute order, ruled by absolute and immutable laws laid down at the beginning of the universe by God. Civilizations, so long as they agree with nature and its laws, such as creation, freedom of growth, the dignity of all that lives, and beauty of form, and reverence for the being of God and their own being, survive. Once they turn to rigidity and anonymousness under the State, and regulation of large and small forms to one flowerless level, the degradation of the best to the fruitless masses of men, the rejection of freedom for all—then nature must destroy them, through wars or pestilence or quick decay. You are in the midst, in these days, of the workings of the Law.”
“Man is not the poor, voiceless, and suffering creature you think he is. He is a fury, born of Hecate, and only One can save him from his self-determined fate.”
“All men are slaves. They have willed it so. Only [their own Divine nature given them by God which is at one with God] can free them, [That which] gave them freedom at their birth, though they have renounced it and will, [most often, always] renounce it.”
Taylor Caldwell – Dear and Glorious Physician