Ok readers, please excuse the spacing – WordPress has added a new format which I clicked on. O Lord! It’s making a mess of my poems. First, it won’t allow me to keep lines together, then it removes spacing between words & within punctuation marks. So errors are NOT mine! I am in correspondence with them about this. ALSO, I am happy as a happy clam, so do not assume that I’m in a cell of depression just b/c some of the poems are sad. OK? Thanks! Happiest of clam holidays to you all!
My heart is lost
Wandering
A balloon with no string
Nor a wrist to tie it to.
Visiting landscapes I have not seen in years.
We perambulate & each horizon brings new to the old
A childhood at the beach
Winter in all weathers
Dunes blown & tracked with triple-toe prints of gulls
Once upon a time, I read that insomniacs keep the sleeping world from disincorporating (tho the description was surely more prosaic.)
I have a clock in my bedroom which does not glow, so when I wake, I’ve no ideas onthe time. I flick the button & a blue flash lights, a bolt of pulling me from any thought of sleep; but I must know the hour. Twelve after midnight: time to write.
Recently, I “found” seven grandmothers for my walls – me, who had no grandparents whom I knew. These are women of powerful profile, women of flowing/flown hair from which eagle feathers rise in halo, or drift in unheard winds. I made a Council on my wall, replacing my Vision Board, a grace gathered of wisdom. I put away my nightlight. The silken darkness woke them. Tho quiet til now, I feel I shall hear more, soft sibilants in a tongue far from my native, but conversation / communication nonetheless. This is the first in the “Messages from My Mothers” Series.
Dear World, At first I thought these were separate poems…but as I reread them before this posting, I realize they are One Rant About Living Life. The choices are upon you, made from you, about you.
Jump on in!
PEELING THE PRICE TAGS OFF LIFE
One by one,
I scrape at these with ragged fingernails
Burning a torch in daylight
Nothing is as expected
Unless you cast off suffering
Reclaim your power
Lose the knowledge of being poor
To manifest the many lives we know
To be Available.
Stand still for no distractions.
Reach & clamp onto the wrist of the hand
Slipping into your wallet
Pinch it off. Cast it into slag heaps for the fire!
I am entitled; I am no commoner, no serf
Tho my wages are less than modest
My dreams are not
Each day is one more step into an
Unknown of my own making
Mal-informed, uninformed, misinformed
I take no heroes from among false gods
I declare myself immanent
There is no time left for dissimulation!
Our souls have been hacked
Our thoughts are written in the skies
We move in & out of credibility
With impunity; but life is not a fiction role
Where is your truth?
What has happened to your kingdom?
Where is your wealth?
Sucked dry by siege, by sanction
By laws against nature –
YOUR NATURE!
The sins of other’s fathers
Visited upon my ravaged soul
I would claim my own
Had I time to commit them
But I am wound about $9/hour
Still wondering if the coffers will
Ever clink with coin
To pay the owings engineered by other men.
I am in my own word-war, world-war
My own upsurge of independence
Created by simple aging
The four horsemen mill outside
Their minions ring the house
While one smiles, reaching for the doorbell
But I am not going to answer this call
I am no longer either in control of my thoughts
Nor in thought control…
I have moved beyond into a kind of
Lifelike improvisation
Where breath is enough
Where life is enough
Where love is never enough
Since that pushes me into the arms of others
To seek it, bring it, endure it, bow to it,
Embrace it, one from all, from one.
There is no denial in my life anymore
Only very careful choices,
Sifting thru the gemstones to find one that fits
The one that seats in my navel
Upleveling the energy of eternity
Emanating.
The blessing I place on my forehead
Shines on anyone more poor than I
Pulling them into a light
Where they dust off their lapels & fasten a flower.
I will be the one who makes it through
All Systems.
I will be loved, I will make my way
Cannot you see where your life has led you?
The life you waste in watching the lives of others
On a bright & fervent-fevered screen?
Outside, the sun is rising/setting,
Outside the skies dance with moons & stars
The air will feed you; the light is nourishment
Why would you forego this for pretending?
It is so seductive to live your own life
Free from corporate lies, medical rumors,
It is a privilege to worship the gods of my living
The angels of my choices bear me up
Out of abandonment
Into the fullest expression of life I can be.
I spend no time following the false
I worship no idles (sic)
My life moves forward of its own volition
Pulling me forward, pushing me upward.
Curtains open every day to new stages,
Stepping into palaces where I meet
The leadership of life to whom I will not give my power.
My life isn’t made of falseness
I recognize the limits of my godhood
I acknowledge the fierceness of my warrior-self
Fully. I juggle words like knives
Some do make me bleed,
None make me weep.
I have been known to make stupid choices
But only by others: to me they validate
Existence.
My life is defined by the next new pen I buy
(Herein my craft, my croft)
My boundaries gallop beyond any distance my aged eyes might see
For where the world ends
My imagination begins.
My rogue nature emerges
In the house I once divided
Yet pull back together now
The redeemers have entered
My social circle
We join hands & raise them to the sky
No longer silent, but voices raised collectively
In a song to rock the world from lullaby to
Willful march,
Be you fruitful in your thoughts; it will
Ring the world
Will take us out of comfortable orbit
Into prophecy & foretelling
Where the story ends well
Where the lovers get their Kiss
Where the wars subside into the very ground
They so bloodily seeded
The deceivings of the users
Thinking themselves possessed of forked lighting
Will instead experience my laser
Of shattering power
My brain will emerge
Through my heart
I will love the world back into being.
The Truth is not afraid of you.
Why do you fear it in return?
Your soul has never shirked from duty
To shepherd you into divinity
To reveal your god-nature
The certainty of this
Is writ upon the granite cores of worlds
Your parallel thoughts
Wrinkle stars with ponderance
The light of your being alone
Has stifled hunger, seeded worlds, changed a universe
Most tenderly I offer a wish, a promise, a longing
Turned into yearning, if I gaze too long upon it.
I am firm. Resolute. I will not disturb this seedling
Except to offer the water of my prayers.
——————————–
Who knows where our perceptions may bring us?
To what tall doors opening
Into adventure or amorous murmurs?
I am familiar with this dance; the steps never leave.
I am not like her; not frail, nor sickly
I am an ocean after you have tended a mountain rill…
There are mysterious depths here, a rush of saline
A holy path to follow to fulfillment
But I see you patting love down as you would a stray kitten
While I am the panther, curled upon plateaus of rock.
When it is time, we shall meet on terms of strength
In skies filled with wind,
We will open wings & fly
Be where you need to be for now
I have our future well in hand.
————————
I am daydreaming about being in love. What is happening here? What am I doing? What stray magic has padded in like a cat, curling its tail around my heart?
So much is going so well, why not? Why deprive myself of a dream when being awake might bring the same thing? why else are we placed in each other’s path, except to love & become the Beloved?
Yet I know nothing; love drives out all knowledge. What went before is erased, a film laid over the past to be rewritten, reworked, resumed at another chord.
Don’t listen to me. It is nothing, this tiny blossom, delicate as a wish…a sturdy mountain flower bright in color against a desert sea of sky.
I will tell none but you & my journal of this. Shh. Like oiling the tin man, this nourishes my heart. Unfolding an origami uncovers all the wrinkles; new patterns display, thoughts of never knowing this again are smoothed away. How does this happen except as a miracle patterned upon the sacred in life?
There is nothing here but a whisper about to become a song…a melody drawing a bow across heartstrings long bundled in silk.