The Wild Pigs of Fortune

These words, as delicate as unicorns

Seeking virgins across a flowered meadow

Become

Wild pigs of fortune

Rooting morels of richest flavor

Growing in ragged rings

Trailing under trees.

I have dined on hope & horror

That sweet & sour of life –

I choose my plate & am served,

The pickiest of eaters

No longer starved but selective.

There is a future of poetry quiescent in me

Until it surfaces

An inexplicable sea of languaged possibility

An electricity of words

A rumpled lightning honed in thunder:

A power of music & movement

A violin plucked in silence

As solid as any ephemeral

Ringing the drums of inner ears.

I sing as it threads from me

Pure, honied notes

Caught in a seine of glisten      

Unfolding in echoes

One word spawning a generation of new thoughts.

The Magnum Opus of my earth-days

Breaking forth in syllables,

A waterfall of words

Manipulative argot yanking me

This way & that

Finally bouncing off the sky

As light breaks through.

I quest the possibilities of expression

For you, panning a seine net for gold nuggets

We can spend on the future

Cooking up possibilities where

We retire from the table, patting

Full bellies,

An unexpected belch of repletion

Bringing a smile since

There is simply no room for dessert.

Before the Cat Died

PREPONDERANCE

Tisanes of my own making:

I still say coming forward for others

Is more than my own reality

The vague blur of expired lenses

Less keen than real perceptions

The radiation of my Chernobyl life

Pulsing in the machinery.

My heart decides its own measure

Diverging from the body’s hosting.

Finding that  hidden doorway,

I sit shivering in shiva for myself.

Once held so closely to my chest

Now put aside in contemplation

Of The Other.

Yet this is current reality

My clickbait body

To which I return each morning

While sliding down the ropes of immortality.

I land with a jar of bones & teeth

In the town of not-enough & nevermore

The boundaries of why bother

Tightening their borderline personalities.

Will I mist to shadow

Transmogrify to barbered edges?

Shredding & shedding humanity for the Divine

The nature at central core

Patiently emergent.

Shall I pick my way through minefields

Fraught with memory, unbounded, unleashed, unremembered?

Does it matter?

As one among many

Unmanned by the sheer topography –

Of this experiential life,

Once glossed by heaven

This blank page

Forever scribbled now

Crossed out

A mess of blots & misspellings

A dictionary of what not to do.

My mind off to the side

While heart seeks another drummer.

Of all the doorways along the

Corridor of Eternity

Of all the tiger or the lady decisions

Shall I find forgiveness only in salvation’s selection?

MOVEMENT TOWARD

The channels of perception

Sharpening

Repelling static for clarity

I fight free of the physical

For the liminal of heaven

Washed by words

Scarred by sayings

I glisten at tidal edges

Will love refashion & reconstitute

Who I shall be?

Will crass materialism win over

Incandescent immortality?

I wander fields of inquiry

When answers are only found

Along the horizon.

Like babies

Cats keep their own timelines

Pulled to the watered-silk moon

An insistence upon awakening

Shedding sleep like virgin’s tears

Of awakening to a man sleeping alongside;

To single digits on the clock

From sleep to not-sleep

A bleary coming-to

I cross & recross that boundary

Between morphia & the mangle.

Her plumed tail floats last out the door

Her existential nature of query

Draws no worry in the night

She only wants to walk about in it.

I’m hardly awake & worry catches

Me up in headlong rush

Enough! These thoughts need brighter light to think

I drift upon the couch, ticking time

In decisions.

Pain is a slowed-down travel companion

A discernment rushed into decision

A refocus upon the means to journey

Through to the promise of arrivals.

Darkness to light

The words ride a tunnel into the light.

The night

Picks its way among gardens & highways

Taking cities by storm

Bringing the brace of salt & bitters

To a candy life

Too sweet to manage alone

I reach to friends who break taffy edges

I savor them as only perceptions

Of spice to be stirred into the stew.

Broken Like Mercury

The pieces of my life forever flow

In reuniting

Yet every bubble reflective of itself

Toxic

A balm to unhealed wounds.

I put my hands into the word-soup of life

Pulling out the same-same over & over

Putting them to a picture

Moving along sure edges,

Fitted to an

Other-where of perception.

Indentured abandon

Not yet an adventure

But simply a promise

That all will be new:

That all will be well.

Finished: the Night

Apace with poems

A toe-thorned cat asleep nearby

She purrs to hear me wake

Welcomed to morning

By her expectations.

The numbers on the clock-face

Are liquids soon abandoned

For the solid day

Soon abandoned by the sun’s

Hearty sibilance for the stutter of rain

My erratic heart abandons rhythm

In errata of timing: I am asymmetrical

Wondering will it also abandon me?

I have left off the lid on fear

Once contained

I pull the braided measure

To watch it unravel.

There is none but this now

I have survived to this hour

This night

Only me speaking

One hand clapping

The applause of a universe

Knowing no appendages

But only self-regard.

Will I close one eye to eternity

Or decide to have no body

But only a wing & wonder?

Unexplored, lost joy recovered

That relay of open gates

A call to angels to attend me

A sustenance of grace attendant

To continuing on

Bodiless as a naked soul.

None to greet me in dystopian Paradise

A chair in a corner

A pen & pad

To rewrite me into another life.

Death Is An Invisibility Cloak

Life recedes behind me

A memory before a dream:

A place where God looks up from His desk

Adjusting His glasses

Laying down the Book of Life He writes

To say, “Oh, there you are!

How was it?

Again, why did I create you?

When  you passed, a thousand drums went dumb.

Come here, my girl, tell me all & that you wrote what you lived:

The banal & the miraculous…

Do you remember all the times you touched My face in passing?”

I will cross the room in laughter,

“Father! I made it! It was extraordinary!

However did You think of it all?”

I will be whispering for all eternity

Now penned in heaven

Awaiting Your words.

There Were No Clocks

As I drew my last breath

Released in a rattle: there

Was no time left to record,

Only words scattered on the floor

Of my mind.

It was all for You, after all

And I’m not sorry for the mistakes

Or falling from grace to land on my face

In the mangle of years.

Searching only for the

Exit, the entrance,

Knowing neither right nor wrong

Would enter anywhere beyond this realm

The physical of living too well

While overdressed & compliant with survival.

I bought life, spending all that I had

I hand You my purse, empty of only Love’s royal return.

(3/22/22)

The Fountain & The Feather

THE FOUNTAIN & THE FEATHER

I saw the angel from four blocks away

I hesitated, trembling: I heard him say,

“I know you from among the stars –

You’re one of them, you’re wholly ours.”

But somewhere his voice became a song.

He held out a hand I shakily took

He pulled me in closer, he gave me a look

Not one word aloud, but a music arose

He tugged me forward, I stood on his toes.

We danced together down an empty street

That led to a fountain so cool in the heat.

He trailed his wingtips, I soaked my feet.

No words were needed, nor did we say

Together, invisible to all on the way…

When a kid popped between us, tossing a dime

And grinned at each of us, one at a time.

At sunset we parted. I watched him fade

One feather remained; one only had stayed.

I reached for it slowly, glowing & white –

When a small hand quick-snatched it into the night!

That child again! Not home in his bed?

“It’s just what I wished for!” He hollered & fled.

Carol Borsello

July 1, 2022

What Mortals!

Each time I return

It is as a Stranger

Earning again through unfamiliar lands

Knowing not the traps & triggers

Of permissible behavior.

But a good grasp of generalities

Keeps me fed.

I came here for the Greatest Adventure of All Time

When time was not real, but a construct in the minds of eager energies

Spinning on what started as an intoxicating play of light & shadow:

Hide n seek: we hid God: Now we seek.  

Ah what fools! What mortals we turned out to be!

—-

One Eternal Day

Life stalks me somehow. Even when I shave my head & hide,

I look out to see Life peering in, making sure I live in this kingdom.

Life needs me – yeah that’s what I tell myself, when each path

Leads me right around into the fray;

When each stream by which I meander empties into

An ocean where I’ve stood many times

Watching myself set sail

On the voyage of this

One Eternal Day.

I know now the drama happened

When I wandered into a fractal

Seduced by a happier ending.

I moved through much & into many –

Lifetime by lifetime, like stones across moving water

Each an enactment of what I’d learned in the past.

That’s why they began to stick together…

The rowhomes in my mind,

Each with a ghost in the attic.

The closer I am to sunset

The more I see in the also-familiar darkness.

BREAKAWAY CIVILIZATION

If you believe in monsters, they’ll devour you

If you do not, are you incautious?

Unconscious?

Incurious?

I believed in monsters more before

Than now.

I was concerned once upon a time for myself

But now I really want to avoid the collateral damage.

Knowing how we’re all connected, & that.

I haven’t run away for years now.

It’s time.

There is no connection.

Every haircut is a rebirth, a do-over.

Then I look in mirrors to say, “Still not you!”

“You’re that Universal Kelly Girl with a new ticket down on Market Street.

Get your gloves on, girl, we leave soon.”

There is only a real world when you start divesting from it.

The world clings … a scarf … a stone.

Set these aside; the NWO is right in wording if not intent:

          You will own nothing & be  happy.

                    It’s not a threat, they don’t own that.

                    What happens with birds of the air who own nothing

                              Yet to whom all is given?

                    So are we meant to be.

Source tickles us with Light, sudden flashes,

          Snapshots well-laden with memory –

                    An afternoon in a fall of light to camera

That moment the wave became particle

A paint-ball from your pineal to mine, so tenderly awakening

From its dream of light to our Reality.

Revisiting the Cave

REVISITING THE CAVE

When Climbing Through a Sipapu

You do not question handholds.

You accept rain as your due

For the upcoming world expects

You to be moist with dew

When you emerge into

Your blessing for occupying

The Dry Lands.

dry, as in dust-dry,

bone dry.

Little marrow left, whittled

From warrior into Weapon.

Emerging into a where assuming color

As you look, taking shape as you imagine

Ok, so here’s the visual I Got:

and comes with a Warning:

‘Read it as you will,

lullabye or bullroarer,’

But read it for the sake of God!’

The God Who is alive in you

At times as dry for doctrine as you a drink.

Spirit has a shy approach for

All my Faith’s so strong.

She is as silent as sure

No longer needing Proxy

That divine realignment of self to higher-self

To me is Enlightenment.

It taps one shoulder so both tremble

Give a tiny    startle     of attention.

Mine bring a smile: What is coming to me?

Or dare I hope –  one more heartache leaving?

I breathe & am breathed in return.

HAVE YOU CLEANED YOUR CHAKRAS TODAY?

yeah, me neither

guess my New Age belief system has

only adequately prepared me for anything

happening after that.

I have this boatload of beliefs I’ve

been banging along behind me,

this entire she-bang

of opposing opinions.

What I’m saying is I wouldn’t mind

If a cosmos push wanted to

Connect with my tush …

Here what I’m sayin’?

Like move this all into recycle for me

Someone else’ll use it

I guess I need a pretty good break from my mind

Awhile.

That’s what got me into all this.

Sign by Register: “Remove Ears On Check-in”

We’re laying down a soundtrack now.

Are the quarters prepared?

Best we could, Boss, we checked his blueprints twice.

Why don’t you run me through the main menu, please.

OK, Boss, nothing you haven’t heard before

I’ll be the judge of that, sir.

Ok. Just generalities; gotta keep these things fluid

what with the Free Will factors to circumvent.

We’re already skimming the line on that one.

The usual: school, other kids, family alterations,

Physical, if it’s on the plan.

Prob’ly marriage

Career vs. anything else to have a living

Move in with physical again,

Then go for the end, come on, Boss,

You know the rest.

All right, all right. On your way,

Apotheosis

PRAYERS OF THE TRAVELER

The priest, the postulant, the penitent

Evoke the random ministrations

Of universe, pointing at my sins & laughing

The Pastor said, “don’t follow your heart lest it lead

To falsity…”

But I’m just not that independent; I need heart to

Shine my way, to filter my thoughts, to bring me

To the altar where I will not kneel, but

Reach instead my arms to God

With my heart outstretched, elastic

Ready for the learning, for the leaning

Ready for the love to flow from me for me

So ready for the love, God, the magnification

Of who I am into who You are

Not boasting, but becoming the outpouring

Of all You have shared with me

That I may express You with my life

With actions, speech & understanding

“Know thyself to know God.”

APOTHEOSIS

I play in halcyon days

Ingesting, digesting

Parsing, praying.

Offsets of accomplishment

The truth of divine mind

Made manifest by my actions.

Even this far along in life

Rich with effort, rife with falling short

The paths of life forever circular

Still, I strive like salmon reborn upstream

After flying against persistence

To be recreated

In Your image.

A PRAYER AT 5:15 a.m.

Wholeness in the world

Begins setting myself to rights

Tugging down my shirt

Polishing old shoes with miles of soul

Searching for the heights of spirit

Falling short, then falling in

The flow catches me,

Asks if I’m ready,

Tosses me towards heaven

Telling me to fly it on my own

In a whisper, constant & sure

The Holy Spirit of effort

Builds ladders to the stars

While I stand aground, looking up.

Knowledge smiles upon me

Wisdom takes me by the hand

Aligns me to Spirit

Over & over again

Never losing patience or

Succumbing to anger’s frustration.

Build for me a heaven, Lord

Just for me? You promised

A Holy Land at the end!

Where I become my own nourishment

Healthy & wholly

In service to God.

Mother Nature brooms the landscape

Shaping with wind so generous to share the dust

On my heels back to earth.

While lifting me into Love.

MY PRAYER AT 1:30 P.M.

Never to have the same moment

To be bored or tired of life

But accepting change

As its axis

While I spin in its regard,

The Father’s child, the mother’s girl,

Gathered up in arms to rest my head

(My heavy head)

Upon your shoulder.

My heart to yours, beating in holy synchrony

Inspired with breath, with mirroring You

With shining eyes & windblown hair

A kid You can be proud of

“Watch me, Lord!

I am doing this all for You.

No More Mr. Nice Girl.

HOW MANY DREAMS MAKE A SAINT?

(As many as prayers enwrap sin.)

Make me flexible again, Lord,

Bring me to that place of comfort

In this everlasting body.

Let me be but another Beginning

One more Easter; re-admitting the Light

I carry it upon me,

A cape of strong silk

Snapped out to stop the wind & fly.

There is a ray of light with my name on it

Somewhere here – I know it!

Another elusive Start, supported

Unreservedly by universe.

I am best at beginnings…

The one keeping track,

making notches on my stick…

Must be plumb worn-out by now!

Quelle Stupide!

Holding my horses while I’m in the parade is lunacy!

NO MORE MR. NICE GIRL

I look as sappy in the photo as the cottonwood behind me

And when did I ever wear pink in Real Life?

No more!

I don’t even know what I’m missing

Except it’s no longer there.

A sea entered my inner chambers

Hollowed/hallowed as any woman –

Wrought the change you see here

The rebirthing: resistance re-inflating.

What emerges? Who is this new Being?

…she who no longer needs pink?

In the desert, sometimes butterflies turn into dragons.

ANOTHER

I put the mirror low, to see myself coming & going.

First is awareness; teaching myself what to look for

         By seeing what others see.

I built a wall I thought a lattice

A work of temporary art that became a template

Situations fill themselves in

Too broad by far: whole emotional categories apply

To a scintilla of evidence!

BOUFFANT

“Becoming the universe” is the soul’s ultimate

Philadelphia Experiment:

Something here

Appears there.

Then very little ever matches up again.

It seems my mind

Wants to dart for every circumstance…

Fear keeps one paw upraised.

I’ve Got A Secret

At first it seems covert:

The Path: The Mystery: The Rest.

But now all that’s trappings…

And I’m on about mileage.

Make haste! Tempus Fugit!

MY INNER TEEN

Knows nothing but what she wants

The little thief dishes guilt like hash

Serves it hot & smelly

Sends it down the line

Souring

The little Righteous Scold

Who only knows rules & rulers, really,

Whose heart compressed them

Into puckered arrows arcing the sky

Putting all to distance.

Her Worlds gone hormonal

Too much knowledge, not near enough Knowing.

Beads, rattles, bells

Remind me where I’m from

Tho dry, I know ceremony counts

In stays broad & elemental

Verily I repeat, “There are not enough women singing.”

Mother Earth needs the voices of her daughters

The rhythms of women walking

That gentle, constant drumming

The light patter of every girl-child

Returns as fish & butterfly

Retracing their paths

To beginnings.

To review the terms

Refine the Vision

Reclaim the prizes left behind.

  

       Cheat

Why only & ever a chip off the old block,

It seems to be I got as much as I ever wanted from that quarry.

This is not yet the time I am to strike flint & create fire.

I stand along a widow’s walk

Near a bridge, feeling equally suspended

When all I ever wanted was to be a rock.

ROLL

May this wind bless our presence

May this rain bring forth our garden

When the One-Way signs point at each other

Often at crossroads,

Don’t take on any more lifetimes

Than you can handle.

Just walk straight through.

Take some time to sit with the cat.

Carol Borsello

April 2022

Post No Bills

Attach nothing to this life.

this life is nothing in & of itself.

I’ve been doing it for maybe longer than you

all I’ve learned is I no longer want to be a particle

but a wave.

What do the words mean anymore?

I understand when I say them, I’m posting the wrong message

the one that these go for in this time.

I’m not talking them in today’s terms, though.

I gave up the moving forward & am taking a u-turn.

I need to have my today re-couched in yesterday.

And not just any yesterday, but a specific, focused, energetic of a yesterday.

the one where words had definition, & borders amongst themselves, & meanings.

I speak them that way at times.

I’m zooming in on my past, doing a close-up on who I was; with who I Am

aligning the two.

Once I got that, I’ll bring in who I want to be.

Life’s Little Potato Peeler

I like the analogy of being a whittler, of tiny shaves & curls of wood

tickling down to feather at my feet.

i like the idea that there might be a beginner spirit in the wood

waiting to get out, to sit on the shelf

to move among the thrift stores of the world.

I know at times, I do this with my life.

My pen makes a great tool; the sharpest knife ever,

that, & my words.

Each memory I consign to the forest floor

will blow into someone else’s tale.

Transformational

GRAND CENTRAL LIFE

I see now, it’s become a spiral stair.

That was wide open once, everyone together

Rushing up to meet the golden world.

Aglow with their eagerness.

Yet one by one

They moved by me,

They moved around me

As I wandered off to a side.

I wanted to stand still & watch

The people heading by.

Sometimes I’d be joined in a swirl

Of like-thinkers for a while.

We’d connect in a literal 12-step program;

at 13, parting ways.

Most times, tho, I climbed along

An edge, over there, into where.

Alone

Not by choice,

But growing weary of departures.

That’s where the spiral stair began.

An idea “you’re better alone, at this point.”

That only fits one at a time.

I was unquestioning.

I notice now the tower around me

That when I emerge, I cross bridges.

NEW INFORMATION

My grief is not in my lungs, it’s migrated to my heart,

swollen with sorrows

not even my own.

I am annoyed to have to pay attention.

I am not sickly; my scars are well-earned…

Reminders & I stayed on a good path.

I did well when I remembered to

Search for these with my heart-compass Guide.

She tells me now to let go of it all, to go for the best

Which I can expect since my expectations will fuel nothing less.

I reach again Critical Mass.

EXTRAORDINARY

When it is time for Ritual, I test a chord in my solar plexus

If it says, “Go fill up.”

I leave the dry sand I’ve been shaping

where it is.

I turn towards outside in degrees

longingly, almost fearful from being In.

One word can set you on a path of looking through

The Window at yourself, instead of staring out.

Now you are in the Ritual world

Where shelter is reversed from your norm

Where you are a little less plugged in all the time

Since it’s so much more meaningful to be unplugged.

REMAINDERS

I am sifting, seeking whole pieces

Here there is one, a spotted memory for

My back pocket.

Who cares if it’s not mine?

Life can get curious enough, but can

Never satisfy our Curiosity.

AND WHILE WE’RE AT IT

I have overcome fear for long periods of elation

Especially in traveling the road.

I auto-resumed balance

While here, on land, I am off-footed.

I would know my chart

To see if this streaking comet

Of self-worth & reassurance soon arrives:

To know to stand with my arms wide open

In welcome.

I just found prayer is the remote, pushed the button

To jump-start my transformation.

It is begun.

Now I need take my bearings

For the center of me,

The spirit core, the one who knows

Where they keep the wings.

Angels fly because they can?

What’s to stop me then?

When Totems Collide

WHEN TOTEMS COLLIDE –  1/29/22

Calendars are fetishes

We wear them for the same reasons

Totems are grounding

Stabilizing

Organizing

Isn’t that the definition of calendars?

Now you wear time on your wrist

How could anything else work?

We hid our power in the creases –

Power now inked upon the skin

“Wearing your heart on your sleeve”

Was less obvious in my day.

Secrecy as currency

Dispensed for display.

UNTITLED – 2/12/22

She lived her life in minutes

While hours thundered by

Sometimes attentive, she slapped flanks to hurry their

Return to pulsing seconds.

We almost galloped ourselves

Until age returned us close enough

To beginnings

To make a study of time worthwhile.

HEART, CAN WE TALK?

I don’t know if you’ll cause my death

Or if I just will dismount one day,

Handing the reins to some alter-self

What I know is I’ve not been Here before.

The world gone kaleidoscope, & calliope,

Altogether widdershins.

When that Spiral only goes two ways –

SO, IF I’M NOT ROCKING SIN, I’M A SAINT?

METRICS

I understand why

That card reader

Said the word, “Posthumous”

When I questioned Fame.

My timing began to stagger the 2nd time I broke my right arm.

Repetition never bores a universe.

Destined to “repeat it?”

Or did I just replay it

To see if I’d missed much.

CONDENSED

As I was, I folded up even more

Squeezing off fear of death,

Entering that perpendicular

Funicular

Up

It didn’t happen the next day, though

Actually, a decade went by

Before I unpacked it fully.

Sitting as it was, on the suitcase stand in my room.

ONCE UPON A TIME OF EVER-AFTER

We were crowned with living butterflies

Stars winked in eyebrows

Powers transported us with leis

Of lily & frangipani

We rose into that eternal clarity

In full power & reason,

We sailed easily into that divine

So promised.

I’m headed back there now –

Having seen enough here

To know I need to maybe think it out again

Playing “hide & seek in the desert”

Never sequoia, only tumbleweed.