Neptune in Libra
I catch clouds and hold them for awhile in my mind
they keep me drifting.
I catch minds and let them float behind my eyes
They keep me sifting through thoughts and moods.
I catch you for awhile, drifting through my mind.
I catch your smile, your thoughtstreams, your
ups and downs.
I catch you for awhile and let you linger through
I catch clouds and shape them to your form
they keep me drifting.
I dream forms and demons and fleeting glimpses
of your mind.
I dream while clouds drift away into formless
I catch your eye in the corner of my mind
In drifting, shifting dreams that float away,
Yet stay -- yet linger,
Always thinking you.
And Why Not Now?
The 4th dimension that subsumes the 3
-- length, width, depth.
We move as we will in space,
Yet we move always in time
Whether we want or even know it
Ever onward through eternity;
Moment to moment
Encompassing all of our lives.
And yet they say there is no time, only now.
Every precious moment, every interminable hour, every slippery slovenly unrelivable day
an unrelenting onward and inward and outward soulesque surrounding eternity.
Where is now? Yes, everywhere, of course, but how do we divine the intention,
manifest the intention
give birth to form and substance
give meaning to the here and now that expands into times unknown?
How do we have meaning that stands true and real
that stands the test of time
that expands outward, strands playing in the breeze entangling and evolving?
How do we tame Now and make a dance of time, swinging and swaying
executing formal twirls of shadow and light to uplifted applause?
How do we account for time, yet spend it like raindrops, yet live in eternal awakening?
If it must be done, it must be done now!
There is no waiting room in eternity.
Yet there is no being done.
There is only doing, and being, and bravely swimming uncharted seas.
It's a tale many times in the telling
Of wisdom and wonder and enchantment foretold.
Captivating, yes compelling.
But catch it now, before you're old (We're so soon old.).
Cross country wide and free; a gypsy's life by caravan
And what is yet to be is stretching wide, without a plan.
Try, if you can, to imagine just how you're gonna end.
. . . You're gonna end.
Past ships and planes and miles of dusty road,
It's all been told . . .and then retold.
We've lived a thousand lives before, we the vagabonds of Earth
But let me try to tell to you my story, it's all I own
Whatever be its worth.
It started in a coffeehouse so many years ago
Where poets of our century were wont to waste their days
And in those days did bright mindwaves cast their nets and flow
To catch up young unruly souls and charge them with the craze
For adventuring -- for "something new"
To catch a star and follow wherever it should lead
To search out the holy answer to the ache of human need
To be the first new holy breed to wholey shake the Earth
To usher in a promised age, so many years in birth.
It was a time of carousels and colored lights;
A time of feeling grandly strong and right;
A time when Life was just beyond our sight.
What made it go? Which corner was the wrong one turned?
Or is it merely time to take things slow,
To gather up the threads of what we've learned?
The darkness cast upon us, how was it earned?
Oh yes, I meant to tell you of brilliant desert skies
And city street romances that sparkled ere they died.
Of Denver's summer snowstorm and LA's winter flood
And secret, solemn friendship pacts seal'd in summer blood.
Of a much awaited sunrise within a foreign town
Of food and flowers and incense freely passed around
Of turquoise rings & violent springs & jails of many brands
And music wafting through the streets
Of gentle smell of smoke so sweet
And wondrous madmen once to meet who read witchcraft in your hand.
And so much more; yes, lifetimes more.
I would give it all to you, asking nothing in return
But that you seek, in your own style, for yourself to learn
Of corners waiting yet to turn before our time is through.
And perhaps one day you'll say to me:
"Yes, the answer's here! Yes, the answer's clear!"
And you will say to all of us: "Here's what we must do."
Before our time is through . . .
And she sold me rainbows
dancing gaily 'cross the window
windchimes in light.
And she smiled me daisies
and bursting bright blooms of summer.
And she told me, maybe,
if you're looking in
the right direction,
a miracle may grace your sight.
And I smiled
into the day.
Coming to the Light
My mind playing tricks on my eyes
That golden glow bringing me into
worlds of pumpkin coaches,
Valkyrie in flight,
neverlands that never were,
yet so much more real than
what passes for day to day.
Sadness is beauty brought down by ugliness,
truth succumbing to convenient lies.
Joy is opening all the senses into the
spectrum of beauty.
no convenient structural captivity.
Let the stars be shining beacons
calling us home.
Let the wind be a magical cloak,
the rain an exultation.
Let the cold, dark night be
a treasured, inspiring friend.
Let the night take me forward
Into everfulfilling fantasies
The never empty cup,
the magic wand/magic word,
sprinkled with faery dust,
toasted with the fine bubbles
of celluloid champagne.
Let us, the night and I, sneak off into
Let us learn the secrets of the Moon and Stars,
ancient runes and alchemical wonders.
Let us play upon the backs of dragons,
learning to fly,
learning to breathe fire,
learning to explore the mountainpeaks
and caverns of
our cthonic fears
and spin them into gold.
The new day dawning
it will encounter clouds and hailstorms,
turbulence and destruction.
It will be a day of startling showers and
of unreasoned pain
and empty solace.
It will be a day to try our souls.
But it will be a day of infinite possibilities.
Let my good friend, the night,
join me in play
to help prepare me for the day.
Let the earth and fire and rain and wind
infuse my spirit
that we all be fellow friends
in the new ventures
coming with the light.
What are the words that I'm saying to say
when they're made simply words in a row?
The world is revolving, and people today
are revolving with nowhere to go.
Revolving, revolting, evolving and floating
And never quite sure where we are
I search for definity in the midst of infinity --
a sign in the midst of a star
And wonder if I am a meaning, or why
the whole thing simply exists
It's not that I care, but I'd like to know where
I will be when we've gone thru these twists
and eternity years
for a meaning beyond being THERE
Twinkling snowflakes in cold dark night
Wishing, dreaming, taking fancy's flight
What are the dreams your snowflakes bring?
What are the songs your carolers sing?
Where is that land -- secret in your mind --
where the seas are strong, the winds are kind
and everything turns up right in the end?
Where is that place, and who is the friend
counting snowflakes across that cold blind sky?
Who is the playfriend;
who is the I?
Twinkling snowflakes, I wish I may
Send warm, healing visions by dream-drawn sleigh.
a quiet image of a ballerina dancing in starlit space
Whatever excites me
Gives me energy
In exothermic reaction
Whatever captures my imagination
And won't let go
Whatever the muses
Joyfully bring me
Dancing in graceful gesture
Whatever Goddess demands
Whatever kicks me between the eyes
Taking my breath
Of living blood
From my wildly
Whatever calls to me
In ancient chants
So pure, so frighteningly intense
So fragrantly intoxicating
Whatever it is now my time
The Ontology of Dreams
Centering out from the widening spiral,
phantom bits of fear and memory
Feeling my way into new rooms, new adventures, ways of being
It was important to lock the door to the noisy hallway,
feeling my way.
Surreal images, photographs in time, scenarios played out of sequence
A mother image leaves for a trip of no return
Another image, unknotting blue ribbon in strong good humor,
willing to perform
outward from my center.
I tell you this, tell you my changing seas and travails
it is important, opening the door, welcoming opportunities.
Tell me, tell me, tell the tale of my dream.
Spiraling out like galaxies,
photographs drifting into uneasy orbit.
Antennae licking the flashpoint, releasing images, centering
eyes opening into focus.
It gives me chills.
That multi-layered image
of the stars' great message.
small and unimportant
look to them for meaning.
But, of course,
the meaning for us to
is that stars,
creatures of combustion,
do not, as we do
live or look for
a meaning beyond
Enchanted light flowing from fairytale castle windows
Burning as floating embers upon the quaintly reflective mote
Secrets enjoying sunset flight
Spreading like geese in gleeful migration
Taking heart, taking soul, taking grand gestures of
inconsolable insanity, leaping from star-studded heights
caught in the glow
too close to the light.
There is salvation in enchantment;
safely peering through fairytale castle windows,
floating embers taking flight once outside of vision's range.
Secretly breaking free of formation, leaping
from fairytale heights, breaking the reflection,
emoting quaintly like geese gaggling on the wing.
Breaking enchantment, burning on the executioner's pyre,
sunset floating upon grand gestures, caught in the glow.
Secrets gently bleeding into the fairytale mote,
freely flowing, gleefully taking flight,
burning out into the sunset in starry migration.
Windows opening into spreading reflection
gently flowing into freely floating light.
Empty branches yearn for
Eerie singing echoes
from the horizon.
Slower days, longer nights
made for reflection ...
And wind sings, trees dance,
stars laugh in the moonlight.
Before the Beginning
sound or fury,
in a wraithlike pocket
outside of time and space
none to command
none to hinder
how does the spark ignite?
Multiplicities of zeroes
before chicken or egg or seed.
Was there a silent prophecy?
If the system is closed,
nothing created or destroyed,
where does it all come from?
How far can it expand?
If the system is open,
how far does it go?
If there is no system,
chaos endlessly realigning,
helpless to demand rule of law,
form but temporarily
In our space and time
we play at definitions.
"In the Beginning . . .."
Words upon a screen,
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.
hooked to treacly tether
sharing sweet secrets
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
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
breathful breezes of mint and lilac
destiny swells to crescendos of urgency.
Imagine the day that dawns when
you are no longer dreaming.
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
Dancing in the classroom
Reaches through neural pathways
regenerates whole to whole
soul to soul
I feel you in my mind, my spine
Feel me dancing