Saturday, October 30, 2010

13 Goddess pieces

for the 13 Moons of your new year


Alchemy


Simple acceptance
The dancer with the dance
enter pre-dawn mystery
quiet interval, 
incanting music.
Undulating reverie
alone in Hekate's garden
breathing in the memory
of jasmine and spice.
Weary roads have been traveled
crossroad to crossroad
the journey continues.
Weary days have found sustenance
in secreted hovels, dimestore romance.
Convoluted talk, empty gestures,
soul-less ritual
take up the stitches of time.
Some brave midnight
if I learn my lessons well
I will eat the fruits of Hekate's garden
dancing in piquant reverie
leaving my tears and anguish
along the windswept trail,
ebullient music
dancing me
as the Goddess kisses
my tearstains 
into gold.






Approaching Winter 


Twinkling lights. I remember twinkling, 
clouds resplendent awaiting snowfall. 
It's Persephone's time below, 
growing in power, regality. 
Friend to post-living souls, 
hearing their stories, 
sharing her own, 
from the above time.

Flitting about, 
we sing seasonal phrases, 
sweat anxiously in crowded malls 
over inner demands for a never 
remembered perfection. 
Children standing in awe below 
magnificence of glowing giant trees. 
Cities return to primal forest 
for an imaginary season. 
Telling ourselves our stories that 
Santa might find us worthy 
of that shiny plaything that will 
make us all right, make us happy. 
Happy little children, so Mama 
and Papa might be proud, 
stop fighting, 
tell us happy children stories, 
take us back to the Garden. 


Deep below, Persephone combs 
her silken hair, long tangly 
root 
core 
essence. 
Magical petals of bliss and succulent aroma 
lightly fall within the Garden walls. 
The flowers are sleeping, blanketed in 
millennial layers, 
reverberations of stories, 
plotlines thick with forest lore. 
Snowflakes twinkle, lightly falling 
drape long-growing trees 
peacefully awaiting their Queen. 








Persephone's Worlds


I have wandered far from thoughtless girlhood,
am a woman, a Queen
in my own right
Yet I am treated with the expectations
of a mindless child
in my mother's Summer home.
The Gods are all agog with Zeus,
fickle, abrasive, free to take full stance
above the laws he so imperiously commands.
My Dark King is so much more a man,
sincere, deeply feeling, committed to his realm,
compassionate, if not always kind.
Yet, here I must obey the crowd,
displaying charm and grace
in haute couture, making small, insipid
conversation with the socialites
decorating Zeus' lawn parties.
Up here, life is meaningless, 
All flash and doggerel
to amuse, O', do entertain us
So tiring to endure the ennui.
Those not privy to opulent entitlement,
relegated to the dregs of servitude, or less
endure for their time, brutal, painful, short,
for no good reason.
I hear their horrid tales, 
back in my rightful place and purpose.
Shrunken souls, shriveled by life time hungers
still growling beyond the grave.
I am balm and wise mother.
At last they matter, their stories opening in me
a marvelous passageway through which they are
taken into paradise.
My life above, the petulant daughter,
the pampered goddess spawn,
I endure coldly.
Summer's trivialities, properly obedient to
rituals of the social condition,
know nothing of my true life
under Winter's glory.






Winter Song O' Mother Sun


Winter homage to our waning Sun
that she will return, feed us 
with light and heat, sweet
energy.
Mother Star, we enchant
thee with ceremony, singing/dancing
in glorious pageantry at your feet,
a synergy of faith and formal prayer.
We, your children, refine 
your gift of life, designing
grand structures, grander dreams,
imaging rainbows from your
streaming light;
see how our visions grow to take
flight
under your warm embrace
and on through 
these long dark nights.   We beseech you,
reach out our hands to
share warmth of your reflected love,
Mother Sun.



Mother of shadows


Nyx, 
Dark encircling
womb
Goddess of Night
from sacred firepit
feeds dreamers
the potency of stars'
cosmic light
concave distortion
reflecting 
myth's shadow





Athena's Valentine

Athena fair
stalwart daughter of Zeus
graces her time and place
with divine knowledge.
Today unlined face,
silken hair,
robust yet fragile form
are proclaimed as the graces
of womanhood.
Athena, lost in the pantheon,
whispers to the nightears
of her faithful,
saying:  "True woman's mind
inclines to wisdom."
But Daddy's girl
wants more recompense
for loneliness.






Scrying on the Moon (for Brigid)

~twilight of the goddess, call to song to aery dancing, lady fair your firey trance rewinds our souls; enjoy these offerings of fancy: all art is yours ~

By sibylline light
images I recognize,
creviced captures of my life.
I know her judgment to be my own.

"Nourished by Moon rivers
mythical cavern blooms
unseen by sunlight
glow green."  
Thus she sets the scene;
becomes the prophecy.

"Purest white simplicity
curved to suggest fragility
faith fed maiden ready for 
plucking,
given in bondage to womanly woes,
hard rows to hoe
for that human hug through  
crying of night.

Fate of mortal soldiers, sacrificed to lust.
Seeking relief, beg for the boon of drama
high adventure
sneaking into sad hotels
for a fix or a tumble.
Laughs,
deadly play,
danger, a real chance.

Barefoot in the snow
icy roads
winds so strong
I could not make you hear.
I thought you were my destiny.
Crazy thoughts, far from clear;
but I believed
song lyrics from Saturnine deities
would not lie, leave me
dying, fading into winter's grey
drifting clouds,
endless sorrow endured for naught.
Lost on this careless corner,
dreaming of oblivion, intent on visions
like rain
tapping against eternity's
vast windowpane.
Scenic serenity.
Nature's gradations of green
soothe tired eyes,
trembling nerves, throbbing  veins.
Slivers of moonlight reflect
in withered refrains, unearth secrets
embedded in song
effervescing through cool pure air

cleansing the uprising nestling
set aflame
resurrected
tempered mettle,
pure, wise, tested
engorged with the will
to rise"

 


Goddess Game

What does a Goddess wear
Silver and diamonds hold her elegant hair
Resplendent gown of rainbow weave
Brilliant songbirds upon each sleeve

What does a Goddess want
How shall illustrious power flaunt
Graceful acrobats and clowns
Obeisance of mitres and crowns

What does a Goddess say
Loverly luscious lips at play
"Illusion is everything.
I am your imagining."






Goddess Dreams of Love

In a far off land, across a careening sea
Beauteous Damsel made a brave decree:
"I am the monarch, the dominant She
Who Must Be Obeyed."
Then she smiled a million miles
Sunshine bright for days.
A sad young thing on a lonely cloud-strewn beach
Looks longingly on a face he cannot reach.
If he had the words he knows he could beseech
her with noble speech.  He prays
to the Goddess of Miracles:
"Please, show me the way."

On a cloudless, moonless night redolent of dreams
Towering waves inundate sand, glowing streams
Showering pure delight, igniting those gleams,
A golden thread together sowing their seams

Silent day arrives, crescendos to song
She glides the beach, feeling fit and strong
"Lithe leaping lyric carries me along."
Her eyes reach onto the beach
To the lapping waves
Where he, dreaming, plays.

Out here, deep in the sea, wild and blue
Do you dream of romance, poignant and true?
Afraid when you awake nothing is new
Swimming eternally free, nothing but you?

Singing your song along a lonely beach
Knowing not who or where it's beauty may reach
Strong is the monarch, sure in her speech,
In her reign
Goddess caressed, you are blessed
for all of your days.






My Pet Goddess

We ride creative waves.
Chaste Goddess child, frisky muse
picks daisies and honey
sweet as to please
any Immortal craving
for innocence.
Secret dreams whisk us 
to deep intimacy.
Supernatural companion, she
comforts me, familiar with these
cycles of light and dark
responsibility --
Family, dead strangers.
Mother's Daughter
Father's Hetaera
Beloved of mordant Destiny.
Begging affection, she cuddles
into my simple, eternal fears.
She licks the eyelids of my
inner vision, let's me open.
Together we transcend
hierarchy, 
frolic
between worlds.






Twilight of Goddess Revelation


What twisted so maliciously your mind?
Your God -- Created that greedy leaders may more easily prevail?
Is it guilty shame, seeded by consistent training insisting that you fail?
Lost to balance, whole possibilities, unable to be free or sane
Eternal life is yours, we scream, while you destroy our birthright
in service to conjuror's dream of denial


but it's just for a while, while we learn what we were from the start
each creature alive to the beat of  a self-reasoned heart


II.


Born other than imperial, torn into what we are told is real
without power to protect ourselves from venal brothers of the order
spreading hatred like any venereal disease
We no longer need to meet you cowering on our knees
Karma's a hot potent bitch unschooled in mercy
Witches reclaim noble heritage, reframe will; herstories prevail
Though born, forced to service, in our master's jail,
lost and lonely midst the masses, masked to fit expected forms 

but it's just for a while, while we learn what we were from the start
each creature alive to the beat of a self-reasoned heart


III.


Listen, little one, watching every moment for our chance,
we will break free to adventurers' romance; dance away the chill of
foreign hills enrapt in leaves and grass.  Hiding in primeval castles,
tightly aligned to a bright inner sphere, holding to hope of life to hold dear
Learning to fly, ride to some unknown side, escape from the herd hate stone,
can't be as hard as learning to stand alone.


but it's just for a while, while we learn what we were from the start
each creature alive to the beat of a self-reasoned heart






Venus Guide Us to Peace
a meditative poem

Not just sweetness and light
There is a strength; there is conviction --
there is a vibrant dedication to true worth.
If we can but believe again 
in all the humane virtues --
Love is sharing, 
in kindness, understanding, supportive regard.
Love is forgiving and being forgiven, 
when it is clear that malice was not intended 
or malice has been exorcised 
-- an acceptance of the positive power
of change, of growth in spirit.
Love is the assumption of "we."
We are doing being going having creating
We are able to exchange our labor, knowledge, 
possessions, positions
We are able to take in more than I -- to synergize
our fortunes into wealth and integral well being.
Love is not just a song -- a pretty set of symbols
Love is a power and a glory 
and an all encompassing truth.
Love is addition and multiplication, 
not division nor subtraction.
Love enriches and inspires.
Love is not blind, not foolish.
Love is not denying the self or self interest.
Love is seeing clearly, knowing wisely, 
understanding and expanding outward 
to take in the universe
of interconnected, interdependent being.
Love sees the ugliness; and loves sees the beauty.
The ugliness saddens; the beauty invigorates.
Love is to peace as music is to harmony.
But how are we to love in a discordant world?
It is within us to pick out the true, 
enduring melody
to which our essential selves are tuned --
If we but look to, listen to, open our selves to 
Venus, the Goddess of Love, 
Peace, Justice, Harmony
as she manifests within us all.







Pluto's Wife/ Demeter's Daughter

Persephone, your will is free
Even as your living is in bondage
to forces much older in their power
You are free to reconcile your fractured life
Daughter in Summer's sun
smiling warmly, playing at innocence
with charms long practiced
Mother's Fool
Mother's Lamb
Saved from that horrible man --
Well, joint custody
Ever Her beloved child
While it is no secret
Down below you are honored Queen
among tortured souls ever needy of your
attentive care
Far from noblesse oblige, it is your
chosen career, though not chosen by you
Are you told enough:
"You do it proud." or even acknowledged 
for the prowess your will gives existence?
Free Will, not Free Choice
It is learning to make of the whole sad cacophony
discrete instruments of harmony, of divine symphony
to find, realize, act with
impeccable integrity
as child or Queen
or someone between

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Basho's Footprint

Basho's Footprint
 
Seek what's been sought by the wise in texts of glowing poetry, in deep-
singed blues
in crypt-hewn runes,
in deepest breath turned inward, surprising miles of memory
in whispered library words
by monks solitary 
in solidarity with Muse
who wanders through all time, e-motion, all need for meaning
Seek where your living leads
expecting not, nor pleading for
rejecting not, nor bleeding for
with eyes, with mind, with hands
unbound

May 27, 2010

Crysta

Crysta eats peanut butter spoon from jar
Looks longingly out the big picture 
window of her parents' home
A busy squirrel swirls over the lawn
chitters at the suddenly appearing
barking white scrappy terrier
attached to a leash held
by oh so wonderful, casual, assured
laughs at animal antics
takes you home
feeds you wine and music
soothes so warmly

Crysta dreams
wild auto-car ride into
hilly fields arrayed in
white, yellow, green
wild flowers smile into
split-screen Sun

She tells her dolls incredible tales
Monkeys live in the hills, hidden in
treetops.  Late at night, they sneak
into our souls to dance in ecstatic
romance, leave us wise in ways we have
no business.  Please, take soul, my
plastic playmates, monkey-dance with me

shield and sword

The biggest difference was diversity
If there are so many kinds of people welcome here,
there must be room for me
is how the thinking goes.
Even if I lick my toes before dancing from room to room
to keep clear my position on the ground.
Little Nell sparkles in dark corners,
shimmers like radiant heat behind rings and clouds.
Well made-up bag ladies tisk tisk and tickle under
her flounces, stick her with branding fronds
behind her ears,
Titter just below the threshold so she knows
but knows not what they wish to have told her
that she has no place, no home, no town, no proud name,
but if she will but play according to the script they
have memorized, allow their discrete bullying is just
what she most lovingly desires,
they might not chase her away,
may suckle off her sparkle
until it dims,
gives them pause to move on to more diverting fools.

I exhort you once more to be the change,
change the sign,
sign the slogans with sweeping motions
charge into the fray
breathe the sludge
taste the waste we so freely made
be the cause
because we can only
seize the day
ride wild winds, embrangle kites of prey
deride perversity

invitation

While the world sleeps
We would illuminate the ouroboros of dreams
Rampage through Wonderland, Neverland,
stampedes of roaring dragons,
princesses plucked from flowery fields,
angels dancing, dizzy as daemons, dervish
drunk on coloured rain
atop bright
copper pins.
 
Surreal circuitry of pineal circus
Cast in glorious clowns sparkling
like sequined candy
Proud bears cycle in mid-air,
Amazing feats of flying day-glo trapeze chimpanzees
Wafting popcorn, white sugar scents of delight,
Pansies pop out of top hats, expand
into darkest space
 
We could create 
twinkling, luminous
sacred place
an anchor for unearthly adventure
a tableau of marvel in grace
if you would
play 

relayering

relayering

Estrella's hips gypsy flash 
in undulation dance
a wand of grace.
Swirl crimson silk, bright azure,
surety of bend and sway.

Reality blends with disguise.
We ride this carousel,
touch face eternally I/Thou;
always another side.
 
In all humble complexity,
slowly, deeply, 
moving so cautiously; but
I, due, arrive.
 
Drunk on dawn's cloudy brew.
Cumulative immersion with pollution,
anthropic chemical solution
under which we were formed,
no longer true. Succubine soothed by 
fake adrenalin addiction
to television news, what did we choose 
to lose?
 
Because life is its own necessity ...
No, none of it makes any sense to me!
Free of need for meaning,
without valence,
spiraling out toward eternal peace ...
 
No more credence to believing
a tautology Aristotelian equation --
"We are One".
Who you may be is not for me to say.
I survive in unnoticed crevices,
foraging through what fate throws my way.
Poison salt pours through a desert behind my eyes.
Acid-rain-cleansed. 
With fresh perspective, I paint palliative
pastels of night.

Covered in white for her mourning journey,
New Moon howls, less than a crescent
steals a starless sky.
Back and fore ground merge.
Radiated blossoms, over seasons
acclimate, rise.

speak low

We could speak poetry
language languid with eloquence and charm
evoking meanings far beyond
common conversation's command.

Spin me your dreams and inspirations
Call out my essence to imbibe with meditation
Lean mean serene obscene
we careen through floor and ceiling
in dramatic semantic scenes
ecstatic play

Speak low, my wondrous love
Echo within the interstice of heart and mind
Lift magic's metaphoric blind
Find that dance of pure enchantment
only poetry can conjure.

same old song and dance

You kill me once again.
Carelessly suck my veins 
Heedlessly lick clean my brain
with acid tongue

Tonight warm sticky fluids
coagulate, smother my heart
My lungs no longer breathe under this deluge

Silly me, tomorrow, not forgetting;
forgiving once again
despite the pain of resurrection

August 3, 2010

Serenity

Serenity

Flashes of movement mirrors of 
tarry gnarled old fingers trauma dreams 
hold, entwine, taffy treacly pull down, drown
crying so futile, never stops, never releases
I fall
again
sci-fi horror fantasy more real than fake smiles,
cold hands, helpless face turning into far star light
terrorists every complex day snarl joker style
hand off severed legs, laughing eyes, bleeding mouths
and I
will do anything to hide, to blow up anxious bubbles
surround with sound, screams, Broadway songs,
mistranscribed memories
suck down sweet concoctions, guilt and lye
never dying, just scarring unto scars of ages
dried dirty stitching, buboes filled with rage
seeping, seething, anything to escape
even quiet contemplation
unstilled by manic flashes

August 1, 2010

My Pet Song

My Pet Song
 
Walking with the rhythm
the song in my voice
glorious daydreams
ramble along.
Whatever the weather,
dancing keeps my dreaming
strong...
Sound storms in the midnight sky
Might set me off my pace
Song says:  "Wake up and fly!
Show us your style and grace."
Slipping into rhythm
Song never far from my heart
glorious dreams dance with my eyes
glorious dreams sparkle as we dance.
You'd be surprised how far your feet
can fly.

Twilight of Goddess Revelation

Twilight of Goddess Revelation

What twisted so maliciously your mind?
Your God -- Created that greedy leaders may more easily prevail?
Is it guilty shame, seeded by consistent training insisting that you fail?
Lost to balance, whole possibilities, unable to be free or sane
Eternal life is yours, we scream, while you destroy our birthright
in service to conjuror's dream of denial

but it's just for a while, while we learn what we were from the start
each creature alive to the beat of  a self-reasoned heart


II.

Born other than imperial, torn into what we are told is real
without power to protect ourselves from venal brothers of the order
spreading hatred like any venereal disease
We no longer need to meet you cowering on our knees
Karma's a hot potent bitch unschooled in mercy
Witches reclaiming noble heritage, reframed herstories will prevail
Though born, forced to service, in our master's jail,
lost and lonely midst the masses, masked to fit expected forms 


but it's just for a while, while we learn what we were from the start
each creature alive to the beat of a self-reasoned heart

 

III.

Listen, little one, watching every moment for our chance,
we will break free to adventurers' romance; dance away the chill of
foreign hills enrapt in leaves and grass.  Hiding in primeval castles,
tightly aligned to a bright inner sphere, holding to hope of life to hold dear
Learning to fly, ride to some unknown side, escape from the herd hate stone,
can't be as hard as learning to stand alone.

but it's just for a while, while we learn what we were from the start
each creature alive to the beat of a self-reasoned heart

Body Language

Body Language


Teach Peace
Dancing in the classroom
Body wisdom
Reaches through neural pathways
regenerates whole to whole
soul to soul
touching life
exactly
I feel you in my mind, my spine
Feel me dancing
elongating muscles
extending connections

February 8, 2010

second flooding of Megiddo

second flooding of Megiddo

I've got rain
No words
No fancy maledictions
uneven drips against
my inner scream
Out in the valley
gathering armies
obscured by smoky haze
brightly polished armor 
weaponry clean
beauteously shines
stars behind dark clouds
No roots to cling to
flood water rises
drowns fire, air, ability to
speak of sorrow
Ashes
fall unevenly
through seeping valley

July 23, 2010

i dream afghanistan

i dream afghanistan
 
little meggie pulls amygdaloid
earlobes high-shriek wails helicopter
loud -- lands inside my dream
carrier to evil arid valleys, sharia alien
landscapes of mars.
surreal desert blooms
van gogh garden of destiny,
bombarded in intoxicant, napalm perfume.
these need annihilation,
poisonous infection so much more sinister
than mere anthrax or apocalypse flu.
Children ought to bloom
smiling daisies
laughing pansies
great grasping reaching to
the Sun, the stars.
We need protection from false prophets
aiming armies
with lethal projectors, lives for lies.
 
July 12, 2010

stone Pan

Like a Pan of stone,
ensorcelled, cast in pain
from home in mystic plains.
Immortal held below 
mundane sky.
 
Mercurial phase.
Experience teaches as ratiocination
never will.
Solitary sojourn.
Search cascading stills,
divine signs.
 
I fish for gutter snipes,
smoke to assuage hunger.
Haven't you?
Silly me, to contradict
your view.
When we met, I was still
so new.
 
Practice willful skills to habit.
Mindfully design impeccable spells.
Immerse in scintillating tidbits,
encrypted tones of Temple bells.
Silly Buddha tricks
are for kids, who sell
services for circuses.
This phase relaxes -- sings out for fun
Enjoy!  The next track looms ahead.
Stone bases crack, licked by the Sun,
Spirit dishonoured as dead
reanimates.
 
Glorious battles can start
in an era of heart.
Glorious peace can be found
in an era of mind.
Stories absorbed in the womb of man
live
in the day to day,
cast an unconscious play.
Until the Covenant is broken.
Astronished, stone breathes, alive.
Mature, Pan, self-freed, grieves 
lost time. 
 
June 2010
 
 

80's legacy (happy Independence)

80's legacy (happy Independence)

Don't blame the GWB administration, it was Reagan and his merry crew.
Though we protested in the post-Vietnam 70's 
hot and sure about every error
the point is, we had that luxury.  Yes, there was hardship, 
discrimination,
individual need; but really no one need go hungry 
for lack of a job, there was real community 
spirit, especially on the lower rungs, but philanthropy as well.
There was a strong foundation that made sense 
and could be reasoned with.
The 80's brought in a different worldview, 
more wide and wild.  Days of cocaine,
champagne, glamour and celebration for sweet deregulation, 
when every dreamer
could believe the capitalist vision of wealth unbound.  
Before it was found that
poisonous as plutonium in the gleeful arms of the truly greedy, 
just what we
were free to become.  
Since then it's been spinning our balance to bits of
blast-warped brains.  
Such unbridled hatred and spitting disdain.  Psychic 
Cassandras said at the time, his numbers are 666.  
A man possessed by
Hollywood fantasies of what we all should be, 
folie a deux with the nation.
And here are those snowy yesteryears roosting 
in our rafters, laying out 
the macabre future of their disaffected dreams.  
Who are we, really?
Distanced from our history, 
believing convenient lies, what are our chances
for recovery?

July 4, 2010

Q & A

Q & A

I need you, out there,
to ask the questions,
feed my liminal factory --
imaginal machinery set to
engineer exquisite ideas
in shrink-wrapped phrases.
Tell me your shame-held
secrets, fears that track you
in the night.
Let me meld them with
trenchant fairytales,
legends that recapitulate
on cable news, vibrant stylings
of the Blues, 
surreal cartoons rendered by
Nietzschean travails.
Let me take this mess,
sprinkle with inchoate memories,
bake well at near 99 degrees
until the odor overtakes the air.
Now, open wide and taste
enchantment, if your questions
and my answers 
meet and satisfy
each other's needs.

July 4, 2010

Meditation on Power to Be

Meditation on Power to Be
 
Uber mind
Creator of all we perceive
conceived in electron energy.
Concentric conscious rings
connected, 
emit reality between.
 
Back beat incorporates flash jazz dance
weaves magic of song;
metaphoric feet entrain,
spinning common lore.
 
Irretrievable voice remains define present.
Hark, this is a moment of re-visions.
 
Brutal authenticity
hallmark of this 21st century.
Refute celestial entities;
express heartfelt wonder for
mysteries beyond our sky,
differences between faith and bliss.
 
May I take this stage to express guesses
(not insist) for conversation:
 
Preachers in this fallen world reach out to touch, to teach
as their creed requires to rectify desire.
Responsibility to each generation begins at conception,
ends at birth.
Children mature counting time to the measure
of what they see as worth.
 
Thus, breeds pestilence in hellfire, soot enhanced treasure
for pleasure of the damned as god's plan.
Beasts and hunting bands maraud green forest, blue shore.
 
Scores equal blessings.
Hammer, nail, ships taut to sail, whistles, tambourines,
cuneiform silkscreens, slaves to machines.
 
Whales were legless leviathans
Once upon a story
 
Early learning cast the play of we and they.
Blood, bone, face
is not man, soil intent on destiny.
Shadow marketeers sell swords, honour,
blessings to follow the faith as good fathers demand.
Soft blood dries -- throes of maggots and microbes
cunningly feast on folly.
Can the wage of war pay to feed our habit?
Vegetation of these mythic forests grows
twisted, tinged in dark crimson layers.
Smell terror, violent death --
fresh meat, or fresh enough for remnant
gnashed snarls of teeth and salivation.
Lullabies drenched in sweet hope
snapped for a dream.
 
War, to improve the species, 
cull the less fit or fortunate,
revitalize with hybridization. 
Trained adversaries of different kin join in 
biocultural cross-fertilization.
New semination, ideas, vigor, replace those
destroyed in battle.  Hegelian dialectic played out
in donnybrook and brothel,
conquered and conquerors commingle in the everyday. 
 
Warrior upon warrior. 
Young, aggressive, strong, culturally arrogant,
seeking honour, adoration, through attack. 
Like young male cats
of the archetypal jungle, sent out from the tribe
to trouble the enemy.
 
Lesser punks relegate to jail.  Yeah, yeah, get the scofflaws off the street;
scapegoats for collective demons need be punished well. 
While locked in hell, too, losers from the gene pool. 
The privileged and their entourage
seldom serve time.  Innocents sans means
get rousted and warehoused.  The holy encourage:
Keep 'em chained until aged weak beyond appeal.
 
Modern reason might usurp these adaptations. 
 
Species, in danger of elimination, needed arrogance
to demand resources
to feed more warriors
to keep each kin group scrambling
for position.   To get more competitive, through competition.
 
Billions of voices shout cacaphony.
Sentient choices blend better as harmony.
By liminal command, young aggressors channel
to sport, fantasy war, adventurous work. 
Next level survival demands we assess, re-learn.
 
 
June 2010

My Pet Goddess

My Pet Goddess
 
We ride creative waves.
Chaste Goddess child, frisky muse
picks daisies and honey
sweet as to please
any Immortal craving
for innocence.
Secret dreams whisk us 
to deep intimacy.
Supernatural companion, she
comforts me, familiar with these
cycles of light and dark
responsibility --
Family, dead strangers.
Mother's Daughter
Father's Hetaera
Beloved of mordant Destiny.
Begging affection, she cuddles
into my simple, eternal fears.
She licks the eyelids of my
inner vision, let's me open.
Together we transcend
hierarchy, 
frolic
between worlds.

Storytellers

Storytellers
 
We need to make up stories
to be able to create realities.
That's what separates sapien
from beast.
 
Speak to the feast
or famine.
Sage, carnie, beggar
Come to the play!
 
There was a Roman soldier bored with war,
with whores, with bloody babies.
Hoping to escape, he wrote a history,
moved into
his Holy fantasy.
It's but a Shangri-La, a piper's dream.
Metal men, formed from clay,
scream upon fields of battle,
when nerves
catch up with senses.
Soothed with martial melodies,
gratefully serve.

Listen, oh little one.
The wind will catch you up as you sleep.
You won't remember when you wake, weeping,
how small, insignificant you are.  Mommy assures,
you're her own little star.  Demons alone explain
your terror.  You determine
to do better.  You soothe yourself with stories.
You spin a tale of love within a dance.
You spin yourself the center of romance,
a home, a fortress, an emptiness fulfilled.
 
Like a child counting fireflies,
alive in the darkened air,
dare to immerse with sparkling wonder,
to share
more beautiful stories.
 
June 29, 2010

Raining Frogs

Raining Frogs

I don't know much about frogs.
Water carried in skin and structure.
Compromise from fish to lizard.
Squishy science project redolent of formaldehyde.
I am not like that.
Surging ahead on time with a plan.
More Earth than Water.  More Air than Earth.
My mind's in the stars; see me waving from
constellations, from outside.

Outside of time, deep roots of imagination.
Totem tales inspire awe -- gaping chasms.
We know we will fall, always, forever.
Sacrifice, the price for salvation -- no One will
love us, sad, ugly, cruel.  Shriveled sacks of DNA,
bow to slaughter.  Daughters of destiny weep
even without knowing why.  None dare question.
It is given.  It is taken.

Today it is raining frogs.
Vast dark plops from Heaven's
lotus ponds.
Cracking bones, gushing blood,
revel in mortality.
Wiping new born guts from my vision,
I marvel.  A gaping cavern opens in
my mind.  It is clear, my plans must change.
The life I wrote them for buried in amphibious waste.

June 27, 2010

Threshold Revelation - 6/26/10

Threshold Revelation - 6/26/10

Blush peek of coyly veiled Moon
in seafoam giant arms.
Striated cloud forms velvet meadow.
Majestic fields cloak the sky.
Shine, Moon.
Don't be shy.
Bathe my dreams in wishes.
Conjure
exploratory vistas.

Through orange Summer Moon
Dream leaf glides idyllic wind 
Reinventing light

June 26, 2010

Atmospheric Chatter

Atmospheric Chatter 

Magpies flit verbose, chatter about 
Red of her blouse, flounce 
of her hair, intoxicant 
air she exhales -- streaming radiant.
White light screams panic. 
Grey limbo whispers unease. 
Black shouts of demonic disease: 
colour codes for survival; 
frames built through sojourns in jails.

"Fade into the pale," waves on the wind.
Noise spins into tone, "One with the whole." 
Play jacks in the yard every night 
for the sake of pure soul. 

so close-mouthed, the old 
sages deified for 
withering wit 

Life manifest aeons beyond 
song or tv skit 
ain't rhyme or reason, 
each day assigned its season. 

"To suffer is to share 
comfort in some matterless common sphere." 

flutters through Earthly air 

Sapient chatter 
doesn't impress 
Solar flares.

astral vision

Mystery mists of history holy crescent lightening sky
Calm anticipation early pinks crescend from eerie violets
Thunderous Jupiter twinkles like a happy kitten,
tummy extends for adoration
Omens, prophecy, hope for endless happy returns
quests into/out of space/mind
(without gravity, how can we fall ... or love?)
Aching for stars, planets, dreams,
silent assent that means all is promised
I touch a cosmic peak
breathless at such altitude

June 8, 2010

omnipotence

There is purpose in the highs and lows.
Fly over rocky terrain 
entranced in sea waves, currents, 
light of the Moon. 
There is magic in the swoon, 
the dizzy heights, 
seeking ecstatic stars. 
Carry the seed below, 
stumble among rocks, 
tillable soil, 
carrying water, 
stirring the mud into food 
for hungry beaks, 
falling, entrenched, away 
from seeking. 
Solidly aware 
that touchpoint of glory 
above the waves 
remains.

June 6, 2010 

Under Lying Message

Under Lying Message

Coma Baby, any ubiquitous tragedy
Petroleum under the sea
breaking surface
fissures in our social contract
corroded wealth
corrupted Earth
Tell me a tale of forgiveness.

"Tough choices must be made!"
Congressional random phrases

The difference between faith and bliss
engine of tarry black submarine
leak of held back tears, grief of millennia

I feel America crying
taste salt, polluted brine, dystopia
The best hope for our regeneration
for our continuity
for our survival
Let GO
let the race be won 
the trophy given
the competitors disperse
aglow in glory
while we who endure
quietly, quaintly, alive to each moment
slip between the slicks

June 3, 2010

Life Awakening

Life Awakening

Report from over the edge
(falling or flying?)
Actors on this mundane stage
(in prelude to dying)

Revel in our role as mobile mud,
immersive experience.

Dutifully capped in belief
we would spew 
pent-up poison
But, taste!
Fortified water vital 
with mineral dust.

Awake, world within
moves sanely.
Renewable lake, safe to trust,
pours through this core.
Pain soothed to prophecy:
apocalyptic healing  --
cleansing vision
each from within.

May 28, 2010

Metamagical Circuit (random excerpt)

Metamagical Circuit (random excerpt)

Practice, practice, vibrant mauve
smoke rings for my lady
Goddess grants this smiling day
ritual of play
Glory  Glory fat silver swords
swashling, caressing, violating the air
You with your act of splendour, curtseys,
curses, all guaranteed to cure
a thousand years of sleep.

Once upon a forest
clip-clop horse hoofs
noses snorting change
seasons - paleo to neo
robins hopping to seed greenery
glowing owls, blessedly blind,
grant swift sanctuary beneath wingspans
illuminated in Arthurian myth,
symbols that yearn like long dormant worms
sucking out dark holes over eons

Today we go to the circus.
Gather, children, 
hooked to treacly tether
sharing sweet secrets
surreptitious touch
Mind the invisible netting,
safe from trailers hurtling from highway
or perennial city bus discharge by zombie drivers
only intent on fulfilling the schedule, home before
detonation.

The circus is superb.
Imagine a trampoline ignited by grand fireflies
sparkling dayglo spraypaint into heaven.
Imagine noble elephants, gravely kneeling,
telepathic tremolo soothing vibration
carrying dreamtime back to Earth.

Imagine a dandelion trail outside the
schoolhouse window
breathful breezes of mint and lilac
destiny swells to crescendos of urgency.

Imagine the day that dawns when
you are no longer dreaming.


May 23, 2010 

Your Philosophy

Your Philosophy
 

movie plot as object lesson 
boys find valuable object 
boys lose valuable object 
boys fight to get valuable object back 

I am woman born 
no source of father's pride 
too early in my days, they 
track my aroma 
I know not to hide 
use me in some back room 
until my womb rises with a new slave 
for their diversions 

I am sacred mother 
tit tied to feeding, always feeding 
(agonized bleeding in secret shame) 
No more than a tether, a trough, and 
tantalizer of the profane. I am a wrecked 
train, a vehicle left to rust, blamed for 
slatternly stagnation, 
never quite thrown away. 

Reject me; reject hard truths, 
long tred diamonds, scuff-polished, 
hidden like icebergs in paleolithic mud. 
Dismiss prophetic exaltation, work songs, 
labyrinthine gardens, 
we who are only dreams in your philosophy. 

You may well be better 
stuck in your own 
wheel of clay. 
My lesson, when I am ready, 
is to leave you to your way; 
cleave to the ecstasy 
loose, lost, subjective 
wondering 

May 2010

Widening Gyre

Widening Gyre

Classic truths:
The world belongs to love.
Tempest tossed bridges
Ex-spiring in distressed moonlight
try desperately to tell a comforting tale.

Lovers live in tranquil moonlit towers 
supping on light and air resplendent 
of cooing affection. 
Hope, their flowery cygnet, flutters 
about adorably knocking over vased roses, 
antique hummels, nagging arguments. 

Companion in siren or silence 
countervails harsh chemical odors indelicately 
nibbling at what could have been your core? 
Who am I, mere cynic, to want you 
to believe in unmendable foundations 
when all that can be done 
is give in to grief?

May 19, 2010

gypsy hand

Too brite days
midnights that refuse to 
abide dark and secret
when empty phrases chant
to fairytale Moons
I tell myself
This is no ordinary room
This is no fleeting flittering life
This is a magical passageway
sparkling like mica, like miracles
 
Quiet traces
luminescent impression
a trailing kite tail binds
silent whimpers, sojourning whispers,
tears shining behind mime smiles
 
Crone's gnarled fingers, playing
to spite agony
simulate touch
beyond ache, 
too brite cell,
crouched scarred shadow
I cast silhouette of metamagic gypsy
hand
offering

so sad

so sad


You give yourself away 
You run from simple solitude 
Expect a world of gratitude 
for your offering as prey 

You hoped for worlds more 
Created castles made of sand 
Proclaimed this fantasy your land 
Cried when tide came into shore 

A life is made of pain 
And what we do to suffer less 
That sweet, sweet kiss and hot caress 
Or rubbing of the sore 
into our cursed refrain

May 14, 2010

Mothers' Night

Mothers' Night
 
cascading shards 
uneasy 
echoes falling 
"It's our calling." 

Rape of Earth, 
hot spurts of words 
savage knives 
Abiding Mothers, 
sacred and mundane 
twist into harridan 
cold stars 

wail, hurtling waves 
Sad, old, crust of ages 
sliced, screwed, carved up for profit 
"It's not the color of the skin, 
the culture of the smile" 

the scent of danger, 
the inborn stranger -- 
all excuses for Us (superior) 
and Them (inferior) 
"They are not like we; 
but lower curs." 
we may harm with unfettered glee 

Cursed to be cut to our requirement. 
Borders clear 
"Here, fear fences in 
our livelihood and wives." 
Leave THEM to putrid pits 
cunning jabs, 
our pleasure. 

Thus, all treasure that might regale, 
heal, reveal true worth, 
of man and Earth 
sold for pittance of potash 
to dance a weary jig 

May 10, 2010
 

Ouroboros Comes to Embrace Sentience

Ouroboros Comes to Embrace Sentience

Wake up
Wake up
Wake up
A new age is coming
A new way of being is a 'borning
Be alive
Don't believe
Be Alive

May 11, 2010

"10 things to do to draw up creative energy"

"10 things to do to draw up creative energy" 


dance
daydream
worry with logic
delve into feelings
play with words and meanings
take a play journey to impossible possibilities
web surf; idea surf; ride a wild wave
face down a demon to discover your other faces
read of random wisdom
dance!

May 10, 2010

Other Cheek

Other Cheek

Seeking respect for my faith
Not found in those needing to believe
There is no god but God 
as Christian mythology's Holy Trinity,
which my experience belies.

hatemongers

They take up space in the marketplace 
with nothing but putrefying rotten wares.
Why should we think they have anything to offer us at all? 

for the May Queen

Tick Tock
Times a'creeping
Maidens weeping
beating rags along the river's edge
shallow floods keep the land aware
destiny is seatide

Crazy lady mending her endless tears
Throat flumed, a voice to run from
Love never tarried, though many she married
She cocks an eye, arrowing flocks of fears
Cackles and coaxes sweet mourning doves
to carry her coffin to market
Buyers beware

Don't stop
Don't answer
Don't stare
Don't be seen
Hide in the green
Hide in the hole you call home
Never admit you belong
to the caste you belong to alone
Never assent to succeed to the throne
Wait for cover of darkness
Wallow in comfort of sleep
Trade what time you're given
for a secret you can't keep
Destiny is seatide

May 2, 2010

Drunken Sestina

Drunken Sestina

Death rejected me
One more disappointment
Drowning sorrowful wine
Sinking by the seafull
Slinks away by morning
Another dreaded day

Cursing break of day
Its sky oppresses me
Heavy hours of morning
Dripping disappointment
A neverending seafull
Caustic as poisoned wine

No longer staunched by wine
Relentless pain of day
Pouring by the seafull
Inundating me
In blinding disappointment
And still it's only morning

Yes, yet another morning
When last evening's wine
Left only disappointment
To pave the way of day
What can I make of me?
Puking by the seafull

Dreams, a begger's seafull
Drowned to naught by morning
Here I've only me
Sifting dregs of wine
To hide from light of day
In caves of disappointment

It's always disappointment
Crashing down, a seafull
No other kind of day
No way to hide from morning
No quantity of wine
Can take this fate from me

Disappointment every day
Drowns me in a seafull
Of bitter morning wine

April 26, 2010

The I of me

The I of my inner dimensions speaks truth, sees beauty
lives multiplicity
cares imperceptibly
always somewhere aware
A playmate child, cranky or happy
A wondrous angel with protective wing
Ethereal wraith like diamonds singing
light bell-clear at-one-ment alive in the air
Breathe
Listen 
See

Respite

Respite

I try to find inside my mind that place of solace
Not happiness, nor contentment
Not the sweet floral breeze of pleasure's memories
Not hot thick nights wandering senseless, grasping despair
Not the woman's curves soft warm pupal cadenced wafting
me back to sleep, back to nonessence, back to a dreamer's
cabaret

Little nits and wasps enjoining against my focus
Bitter nips and wasted fortnights, no blame, nothing to be seen
I curl into glowing midnight, find yoga grace, slip-slide between
synaptic windows
No one looks out
No one looks in

April 23, 2010

420 fledglings escape pie and fly

420 fledglings escape pie and fly


Silent night, pensive night
carefully managing intrepid flight
serial soaring heightened insight
self-sabotage may be a right
so is a paradigm shift, an excitement of
quantum array
a quick turn through reality's rift
into a fountain of play
Happy day, glorious day
why would we have it some other way?
Change decorations -- more brilliant, more gay!
Chatterers weaving beyond yay or nay
Reveling in destiny's space/time/what may

4/20/10

For Leda and Her Lover

For Leda and Her Lover

Slow, languid romance
Gliding, alive in the dance
Coyly exchanging glances,
lithe, feather touch
hand to hand, to waist, to loin.
Enjoying little licks, lovers' gifts,
luscious lips,
tender whisperings, savory tasting, 
lingering kisses, tingling
skin, tangling hair, 
intently aware, intensely
THERE
amazed, amused, 
enrapt, enthused in the grace
play, fully sharing,
joined

April 2010

Agrarian Age

Agrarian Age
 
In Spring we speak of seeds
bundled possibilities
foreseeing market days hale and fair
succulent fruit, trilling herbs,
vitalizing veggies
and all the spicey chatter of conviviality
 
First there was the seed
plowed under to taste Earth,
swell with water,
burst into fecund brew building
cells of chlorophyll to catch the fire,
symbiotically breathe, exchanging
death for life
 
Sacred seed
clothed in mystic ceremonies
deeply deified in chthonic memory
We carry the seed of our fathers,
the tears of our mothers,
the hopes and fears of our priests and lords,
over rocky terrain, in hidden caves through
ice and flood and slavering predation,
never doubting nobility of destiny
On appointed days, carefully watching solar/lunar
alignments,
our assigned labor commences. Busy as any
bird or bee, we commit seed to chosen ground
with all the love we can command
Then, off to bacchanalia, reveling in a grand scheme
promising sustenance, renewed strength, plans,
romances, unnumbered chances for pride
and glory
 
Thus goes the story we retell in lullaby,
in schoolyard intimacies and scholarly lies,
puffing up our little share of knowledge, magical
protection from overwhelming vastness
of mystery, shades of colors without name
 
Unclear on the protocol of shame, unwilling to admit
to ignorance that might unsettle carefully laid
hierarchies, unloose gates inviting chaos or worse,
we gather of our fruit for sacrifice to gods of greed and vice,
gleefully watch the rending of they who are not me
 
"I, too wise for such ill use, repeatedly proven
in my abuse of these ill-named foes I refuse to admit
as kin -- sinners, Lord.  Surely I'll not be taken in,
not take them in.  Not share the bounty of your seed,
given to the chosen."
 
Even in these days of polluted soil, of toil
demoted to laughable commodity,
idly watching waste stream into muddy rivers,
enjoying occasional feasts of vicarious blood,
throwing the unsanctified into the raging flood,
desperately trying to stem an unquenchable tide,
while hiding any glimpse of remorse lest shadow
presage disaster
Eating both fruit and seed, rather than part with
familiar fantasy
 
April 2010

Swan Song

Swan Song

She untangles 
clumped dust from her unbrushed hair, 
hands smoothing into silk 
pleasure for her touch.  
Sour-pussed, 
nonplussed, 
internally eternal, 
she enjoys the panoply, 
the panorama of poetically entangled memory 
along the lanes of wonder.  
Without the barricade of 
fixed identity, 
she plays replete, 
balcony to world wide stage.  
Old, 
crone, 
mage, 
sovereign priestess of unnamed domain, 
she wishes 
and coin of primeval realm 
freely obeys.  
Watch her, gaze 
in consecrated crystal, 
blooms of dance 
hedonistic grace.  
She is yours for a song.

April 11, 2010

Unwanted April

Unwanted April

How dare those trees show off in flower
How dare that dawn arrive so soon
How dare the skies go grey and shower
How dare young curs howl at the Moon
Winter gave such brave cold cover
I could atone for frigid heart
How dare come Spring when I can't love her
How, with no will, dare I restart?

April 11, 2010

She is there, in my room, waiting. Silent as I close the door, turn out the light, turn out the world.

She is there, in my room, waiting.  Silent as I close the door, turn out the light, turn out the world.
I feel her presence behind, reaching to touch my clavicle, soothe vagal impulse to turn.  I feel her hand, supple, strong, heating through in contact, healing in that sacred touch fortified with love.
We kiss, we melt, we swirl like cotton candy, sweet, sticky, surreal.  We touch into solidity to feel, each exquisite synapse response a remembrance of permeability.  We taste.  There are no words.

I know I said (I prayed):

To be adored beyond embarrassment
To be she who can do no wrong, because beloved
To be gifted accurate reflective critique
as superlative reviews, with just a tweak suggested

To fall securely into open arms and heart
expecting only me
Each blessed day to start
gazing into shining eyes that see so deeply,
so wisely, my precious wondrous being
I have never had from lovers,
brothers, Mom or Dad
what I have taught myself severely
I can never have
Too bad.  So sad.  Can't let fantasy 
keep me from my daily dance with debt.
Dreaming freely receivng
love
never to be met.

We meet secretly, in places that can't be mapped or tethered.  She embraces me in bursts of rapid movement, seductively slowed from motion to subtle traces of desire.
I am emotively charged ecstasy, pulsing electrically beyond space/time.  She is imaginal fluid gently shaping eternity.  We are ouroboros, ancient fantasy, modern physics.
This is the charm I need to cast the spell, to open the fortress, to open my eyes adoring sensation.  I become energy as she feeds me the ambrosia of her essence.  I become beloved.

Goddess Dreams of Love

Goddess Dreams of Love
 
In a far off land, across a careening sea
Beauteous Damsel made a brave decree:
"I am the monarch, the dominant She
Who Must Be Obeyed."
Then she smiled a million miles
Sunshine bright for days.
A sad young thing on a lonely cloud-strewn beach
Looks longingly on a face he cannot reach.
If he had the words he knows he could beseech
her with noble speech.  He prays
to the Goddess of Miracles:
"Please, show me the way."
 
On a cloudless, moonless night redolent of dreams
Towering waves inundate sand, glowing streams
Showering pure delight, igniting those gleams,
A golden thread sewing together their seams
 
Day arrives, silent, crescendoing to song
She glides the beach, feeling fit and strong
"Lithe leaping lyric carries me along."
To the lapping waves.
Her eyes reach onto the beach
Where he, dreaming, plays.
 
We know how this ends, as all good stories do.
But how, my dear friend, is this affecting you?
Do you dream of the dance, poignant and true?
Are you afraid
You've lost the chance, end of romance
When you awake?
 
Singing your song along a lonely beach
Knowing not who or where it's beauty may reach
Strong is the monarch, sure in her speech,
In her reign
Caressed by Goddess's blessing
for all of your days.
 
March 24, 2010

unLocked

unLocked
 
In the state of nature
Laws are enforced by
necessity, not choice
The Contract plainly reads
"Do what you will --
and see where that gets you."
 
 
 
This is the end of the old moment,
the denouement 
before the Flood rushes through
 
 
 
Powerful men in air conditioned rooms,
clean, pristine, sweet smelling air,
sign off on torture with nary a care
Lunching on oysters, cognac and pears,
while young braves are herded to tombs,
too small concrete prisons of terror
freezing water on lungs, crushed bones,
of terror,
Interrogation to honor our nation
 
 
 
Skies part and fall
atoms no longer involved dissolve into space
between
Thoughts, no longer attach to meaning,
whisper incoherently
Inchoate breeze
Free floating
Unbound
Sound merely audible impression
Life no longer an obsession
Love? Separation from repression?
Concrete, now watery bits of stone
Swim, surf the waves, feel the moan,
feel the early mourning, each alone,
unconnected, eerily rejected, no goal,
nowhere to go
chaotic heat death of a world
no longer known
 
 
 
Pluto's Wife/ Demeter's Daughter
 
Persephone, your will is free
Even as your living is in bondage
to forces much older in their power
You are free to reconcile your fractured life
Daughter in Summer's sun
smiling warmly, playing at innocence
with charms long practiced
Mother's Fool
Mother's Lamb
Saved from that horrible man --
Well, joint custody
Ever her beloved child
While it is no secret
Down below you are honored Queen
among tortured souls ever needy of your
attentive care
Far from noblesse oblige, it is your
chosen career, though not chosen by you
Are you told enough:
"You do it proud." or even acknowledged 
for the prowess you have willed into existence?
Free Will, not Free Choice
It is learning to make of the whole sad cacophony
discrete instruments of harmony, of divine symphony
to find, realize, act with
impeccable integrity
as child or Queen
or someone between
 
 
 
Never mock at Eris
Lest Eris mock with you
Hers is a brave dispassion
You haven't got a clue
 
 
I look to you Goddess
humbly, with honor, respect
asking no boon
I look to you to see a glimmer
of what you choose to manifest
I wish to hold that aspect in my sight
among the imagery I find informs my art
If I am to follow Art's vision, 
May I be superlative
Not boon -- destiny unraveling
within my reflecting eyes
 
 
March 14, 2010

That dream where I can almost taste orgasmic clarity

That dream where I can almost taste orgasmic clarity
My feet stick, held by morass, by Louisiana swamp aglow in
bioluminescence
Taken out of time or place, escape flows simply, like the
Mississippi against the tide, old man River, no longer bound
by fairytales.
 
Love is an image.  Taking, giving hands, lowered arms, chest
to breast, to breath, to twining.  Warm inside our fire, desire
gently glows, sweetly grows, implants a secret smile to feel again
memories of Spring.
 
Now is another Season.  Cold slush infecting every consideration.
Petulant, wary, indisposed to suffer gladly, I feel the ire rising.
I would fight if not so sluggish by design, if a winsome target would
but align with my fist or feet or focus.
 
It is not Spring I seek, not awakening to amor or battle.
Covered in soft frost of Winter's dream, scent murmurs
of electricity, no need for more.
 
March 7, 2010

Before It's Over

Before It's Over


They say in dreams a house is a metaphor for a life
Windows open to the world, mysterious eyes seeking snowfall,
slush debris, snarls of auto travelers rushing through

Hidden inner rooms may appear, unsought buried treasure
Deep within decorated walls, a smiling child painting with excrement
Dimpling, she offers scented flowers never known to earth's earnest soil

Silly dreams, silly living, skillfully denying, 
making much of
a molehill here or there

Mountains are metaphors for achievement
Struggling like Sisyphus, discovering like Pythagoras
basic relationships on which to build

Empires, like species of mystic birds
emerge from glowing flame, flogging slaves to
roll those rocks from imperial graves up the peaks of glory
Like family, and its social cognates, enslave to stories:
"This is who we are."

February snowing through conflated years
Fear was my ally, hailing me on, hugging
with glorious laughter, carrying my steps through
onerous trails -- and those ebullient ecstasies of survival
Drunk on the gold that surpasseth science or light
Touching the cold sting, letting the song sing through me
Do you?
Feel the music?  Abandon your amygdala to dance free
awhirl in a swirl of laughing snow?
In dreams, inchoate, unremembered, do we relive those
moments of bliss to keep us balanced, to give courage in a life
less lived, less honored?

Old, glazed-over eyes seek momentary solace, look long,
longingly, into a silly mist of snow beyond windows closed
securely against the cold.   A dreamworld revealed,
in the interplay of eyes and mind

February 27, 2010

windows

windows

That liminal dimension between the pain
and the screen selection of feeling, immersion
away from meaning:  what you don't mean;
all the ravaging truth (No, that's not me!)
I was the princess, all the rage -- cashing in
on beauty, charm, ambition
See, my vision, bubbling up in pastel 
pinks and blues.
Who were you, back when
the carnival was still in town;
were you that merry clown with
costumed glee, charismatic spree,
grab it all for free!
And now?
Cloaked in silent screaming, bravely scheming
Which face you can allow to smile,
slip through the picket fence or crooked style.
Intense desire disguised as disgust
cowardly trust misapplied
How to excavate, extricate all those lies,
(and why should I?) to touch cool, hard stone 
layered experience, etched to magnificence
not mine alone

March 6, 2010
  

Follow, follow, follow

Follow, follow, follow
Follow the yellow brick road
Follow the fashion of gold
Follow the fellow who does 
as he's told
Follow the trail blazed by the bold
Follow the shepherd who loves
as his own
sad-souled children
feels their burden
swallows their souls to
make them whole
Follow, yes grovel, bleed
to atone,
bleed on the battlefields
of country and home
Die on some roadside
afraid and alone
How far do you follow?
How near do you follow?
Feeling broken, hollow, to the bone
Trapped in a "No Standing" zone
Take heart; extend hands --
Dance outside the lines

January 31, 2010