Fool's journey

The Earth screams
People die before their time
Or never get much life
Species die, their music silenced
Crazy theories of wealth
belie obligation or simple seeing
the laws of consequence
Scream Earth!
Pierce the cosmos with your
terrible cry
Acid rain burning through gold
falls

 

 

A long and twisty journey
to find myself where I started
never having gone at all...

 

Half a Page of Scribbled Lines

 

Stone cottage

Enchanted fireplace flickers stories
old and new
Giants and waterfalls
Energy sprites in flight
casting luminescent nets
bewitched between.
Walk sedately

sweep for malevolent intent
subliminally aware

Psychic feelers
Unobtrusive surveillance
Brain shaking data bombardment
Tiny spinal fractures emit
memory, reason, the capacity to love.

 

Realities Doorway

 

Free to wander
all the stories that
could ever be,
choose the ones I
like the best
to tell myself
in sleepy morning
smiles.
The sacred doorway stands open
my little house surrounded
in gentle blue heaven.
Over landscape bold and bright
soft-hued bubbles

carry enchantment
voyage sirens call
blessed reefs of serenity
eternally
sea-washed
sparkle in play with sun-warmed
sands.
Dream on, to
interweave, to enhance
Outside my doorway
there are eternities more.

 

 

Over the Rainbow

 

New edge, over the rainbow

arches through iridescent swamp,

lush green

fantasies

mystic desert silken kissed

with poppy-killing snow.

Who do we ever really know?

Sins and shadows

Erupt like boils, or

volcanoes dormant for years,

Sardonic smiles:

"Caught you!  Thought I was blind?

Or a fool!  Can't catch me twice, with

one eye sleeping.  My fury knows

no writs nor injunctions.

Take your medicine, writhe in

agony; lose integrity,

become a thing of poignant

beauty, limping off into bitter

days."

No defense.  No glory.

I sneak through a crack in

the world.

Here in the center, we bake bread,

forge goldless treasure, sing

holy dreams into the ears of

misbegotten slaves.

Sometimes a song on the radio,

slipping through the airwaves,

tells us something true.

Sometimes I look at you,

and see a wondrous child,

rainbows shining in

wide-open dreaming eyes.

 

 

Listen to the heart of bliss.

Lie on open sand, smelling vibrance

under oceanic starlit sky

Breeze breathes eternity, opening

inward to see intricately

expansive poetry --

thought in magnificent splendor.

All art is magical; all magic is art.

Yet they are not the same, and part

of a grander landscape.

 

 

empire

 

Standing askew as the inexorable boot commands

squeezing out gems, polished and pure.

Paid in bread and circuses.

Bathed in raw entitlement

dreams of ravaging, raping at will

drinking bright blood doped with

ecstatic thrill

casting lot that promised reward

be assured.

Cold, this world.

Shadow sans Sun.

Listless lapping at sparkling carbonation.

Sinking below matter and form

into terror stories;

taking warmth from smoldering coals.

As tomorrow continues today

your heart dissipates

dispersing pearls of wisdom.

 

 

She loved the world of screaming suns and malignant moons. It carried her emptiness into blazing symphonies that only she would dance within. In quiet dreams it pleased her to believe she sought another. None would appear with the grace to dance just so, to harmonize her music.

 

 

Evolution, Conscious Divinity sending out bolts of energy and matter and saying: "Let there be life!" Whatever. Just blind moths in the darkness burning for the light.

 

 

It's so cruel
all you learn in school
is mocking behavior
reciting the rule
not that life's there to savor
for the free playful fool

 

 

Neptune's Fool

 

I burst my bubble daily

just to feel the pain

I paint my face up gaily

to melt out in the rain

My bag of tricks is magic

But no one calls to buy

I wish my life were tragic

Horrendously awry

That would explain my sad refrain

so bravely strong, heroic

a saint, stately and stoic

But in truth I'm just a bum

the very lowest sum

of higher expectations.

So, elbow up and drown in

my libations

(salutations, obviously optional).

It's not that I'm exceptional

(what a wrench that was to say)

but that the conventional

I label reprehensible

snake crawls into my Freudian

super-nanny state

No longer can I deny reliance

on strangers of kindness who never stick around.

So please, kindly grant to me,

feed my sustaining fantasy,

Hear me, and answer:  "How profound!"

 

 

A Fool I've been

walking behind visions

cringing from derision

seeking solace from a merry Moon

too soon gone old

Checking back on follies

sticking pins in pain -- jolly?

no, morose, cold ... 

Harridan crone

Have my wanderings sown

no happy harvest, no cozy home?

Snuggling into punishing remorse

"You knew you should have run a better course!"

"You know you deserve to be alone."

Is that true?  Am I the Fool careening

down the precipice,

broken, no meaning;

is this my hapless fate?

Or my self-hate insisting I mistake

a journey for a goal?

A Fool can be a cherished, merry soul

dancing the golden mountain trail

reveling in freezing rain and snow

tasting the bite without bitterness

This I know

 

 

April 1, 2011

another road song

Not all mothers are loving

Not all grandmas are kind

DNA carrying hate,

these people need special care,

teaching that sharing can lead

to connection,

expand brain and heart,

create better art, despite

blighted start, with concentration,

consecration to a sane desire

What would it require?

Can I entice you with wine?

Whirlwind romance, 

peaks of ecstasy, words of heresy --

whatever fantasy brings relief 

I would be happy to end your grief,

to devour your fear, sweep your road clear,

help to feed your fire

March 30, 2011

Tune In

Tune In

Just relax

Don't think about a thing

Just relax

Close your eyes and feel serene

Just relax

Feel the loosening of all your cares

Look behind your eyes, 

Become aware

of the miracle that

you really are

I lived in a fantasy where people cared about me, because that is what people do.  It was a stupid assumption, because it allowed me to ignore the truth.  I was unkind to myself, guilty over disappointing them.  I conjured every excuse for them disappointing me.  No one is guilty here.  It was all a mistake, a case of mistaken identity.  I misidentified humanity as being like me.  Yet, I misidentify myself as well if I claim to care for the sake of caring.  I care because it gives me a perverse pleasure to imagine how you might feel.

Rain's moody music

invites slow dance adventure

with sorrow's sister

Pain in small doses

builds tolerance over time

or so you would think

Calligraphy laughs

says:  I am but a bottle

message writes within

Seconds have been lost

randomly, without notice

What Now have you found?

Equality Knocks

Equality Knocks (March 20, 2011)

"Fortune favors the brave."

But I am not brave. 

Too tired for that world

to matter

I'd rather speak of far out

stars and possibilities

not likely to come knocking 

at my door.

"The poor have always been among us."

When we measure ourselves

and each other

on a scale of credit and debt,

who gets to order the jet,

who gets to die at  

hands and feet even more

desperate, or cheat their way

into a prison cell

or other hell

created just for show,

so everyone can know

the wages of failure

to fit on the narrow queue.

There's nothing I can do

to change the course

of history

for those believing mystery

means we never know what's true.

A solution is only supplied

when the whole shines brighter than

any craven side.

SuperMoon

Waning Sun, Waxing Moon

old mask Moon

smiling like a jukebox tune

make my world safe for dreams

safe from politicians' schemes

from atrocious barbs of flaming

from kindergarten cliques of shaming

                  *

Frame a sane world to carry happy fantasies

lush and fragrant trees

lust of flowers for bees a'busy buzzing

kickback days for country kissing cousins

homespun lace, grace philosophies,

sainted prophecies of peace and fun

If any light could do it, you're the One

reflecting, as you do, our fiery Sun

in calm consideration

old mask Moon

over days of tribulation

we need a tune to dance away

give a chance for play

to wash and heal our wounds

smiling captivating tune

hums, caresses into sleep

lighting lazy seas of dreams

March 28, 2011

bearing water for Brigid

Bearing Water for Brigid

Sketches for a water vessel --

bottle and message elide on waves.

Voice of Brigid calls. 

All who hear: Imagine.

Exposed to wind, to grit, to rain

and hail,

rock faces erode.

Vessel

Designated fixed space

Sacrosanct container 

Conveyor through fluid

separates

Fluidity

Creates place, surface to paint.

Amusement;

diffusement of emotion,

beatitude, foment of dueling farce.

Harsh edges polished,

pure colors

blend in the dark.

Brief infusion 

of giddy illusion

glows 

just enough to guilefully entice.

Sparkling Neural net 

smiles,

a secret

clue revealing

purpose, meaning,

engages

wild eternal child,

ages' flamboyant fool,

Glorious

Muse

(Voice rains from within)

A wound is a sacred vessel.

Pain carves into flesh

sense memory;

carries the seed

of its own demise.

Sentience

engulfed in life

learns anew to be whole.

Wounded with the potential for wisdom

when eyes are are pried 

from seeping, sucking, suffering

aching to censure what future we admire.

Redefine the schizm.

This wound is our project.

To heal, discover the vision;

realign the seam to fit 

self-framed landscape.

Let loose that genie of desire.

Ride rushing blood streams. 

Build a roaring pyre of grief,

insane belief in wrathfilled deities.

Revile that old refrain: "life is pain" or a game

to be lost.

No Faustian bargain.

Just a  

rambling adventure

daring

to explore

essence of ecstasy.

Don't wait for the rest to see

and demur.

Stretch your sail.

Take sight of your guiding star.

The only failure is self-denial

in favor of the vile lie

that pain is destiny

instead of faithful friend

lending energy

for change.

Slice vivid memories. 

Exult in the tastes, the textures.

Enliven your way.

In the end

the vessel breaks.

There the Goddess stirs

2011 Aquarius

under covers

Cloud cover of gabble

Too much heat

Not enough light

for intelligent life

to thrive

Sing another chorus?

Clear the cover before us

with voices like sirens

reversed

Uncover, dispell the curse

if you will

or be part of the kill

Here, in this still place,

prior to awakening,

which dream takes hold?

Dream whatever dream you see.

Reveal your potent imagery.

Rlease your awesome wings

-- it's okay; it's just a dream ...