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  • So Close To Despair, I …

    So Close To Despair, I …

    There are times I am so lonely I can taste it, hear it, smell it.

    I see it in my mirror.

    I am feeling empty.

    Not much looking forward.

    So tired of dancing with shadows when I want a real partner to my steps

    In my arms, in my bed, in my head

    Someone to wind fingers together

    To share secrets

    To smile at, crooked & crinkly.

    I want to grow pale in sleep

    Wrapped up in a warm body

    Spooned around…

    My heart aches

    My throat quivers

    Unshed tears, unvoiced words

    I cannot even see myself anymore

    Invisible as the wind whistling through the holes in my head

    Where confidence lived & moved & clarified my being.

    Where did I go?

    Subsumed. Exhausted by my own thoughts.

    Hands up in surrender

    Numb.

    I no longer believe in myself

    Or that tomorrow will be better

    A tangle around the Mayday pole of my ego.

    Help me through this

    Versed  in conspiracy, in what might be/might have been

    Primary: secondary: tertiary

    Me me me

    Lost at sea, surrounded by water

    Only the sky is visible from here

    But the clouds change too quickly

    For my hope to hook onto.

    I can tell you of investigations, complications,

    Recriminations, obligations.

    The reasons blur.

    I blink them away.

    I cannot testify to

    Any reasons for this.

    I submerge.

    There are no exit signs at sea

    Only depth

    I have no fins, no scales,

    No colors to float from here in rescue.

     

    Can you lift a hand to bless me?

    Lay it upon my forehead, soothe & smooth

    Iron these tears to steam

    Paint me on a smile?

    Reinstate my life to valid?

    I am here. I wait.

    Lay a wreath atop the water.

    Remember me for I was,

    That maybe I shall be.

     

  • NOR MINE TO SLEEP

    NOR MINE TO SLEEP

    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 on the 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.

    ____________________________________________________________________

    NOR MINE TO SLEEP WHEN WHISPERS WAKE ME WISE

    I rise to midnight

    Wakeful & alone

    My life unsung, is flaring to a tone

    Unwrapped & watchful,

    Barefoot & outside

    A shawl to cut the chill

    Of night alive.

    I wait on words

    They rise to overfill

    To flow away to rivers, all downhill

    These are my true love

    Ever, thus, my world:

    A child’s hand in fist I might uncurl

    To find surprises hidden from the day

    My heart sees through all blackness in this place,

    A gift to share with all, with sky so dark

    Around a glowing moon I set my spark

    I write an old September, or a June

    One day past full, a dimming, tonsured moon…

    The pages in the journal start to fill

    For sleep eludes creation as I write…

    In daylight worlds, a creature of tonight

    Lit from within, the certain glow undimmed

    I am forgiven every time I’ve sinned

    The Muse awakes, she stirs inside my soul

    I scattered during sleep; she knits me whole.

    These folded-over pages must unfurl

    A child’s fist, I open & uncurl

    I see you in the distance of my mind

    You are not mine, a message so unkind.

    Yet knowing you, I never can be blind.

    Your eyes see far beyond a simple rhyme.

    As words arise, insistent of their way

    These messages in darkness filled by day

    With chorus/blessing both, I busy out

    When nightfall sleeps, I rise to be about

    My muse’s business, all there is to say

    O’erflows my heart, my mind up & away

    I cannot think, for caught up in this flow

    Of all but poem, resting in its glow

    The world, unfinished, lest I write some more

    Insomnia insistent at the door.

    My duties crowd around me; I don’t care

    For words all dance about me in the air.

    I breathe them in & write them in release

    My pen, my soul, my ever-loving peace

    There are no hours when I sit to scribe

    These poems are my fam’ly, art & tribe

    So, hear me Moon – before you fade & fly

    These words may live beyond the day I die

    I shall return, in line & open verse

    A value far beyond that in my purse

    This ink, my blood, an overlighting world

    A child’s fisted hand you have uncurled

    This is as much a river to the sea

    My heaven at our door, these words are me

    As others live for love & duty sure

    I live to write. The muse is at my door

    I bid her enter, take a seat & share

    She takes up my most comfortable chair

    And makes of it a jeweled & shining throne.

    I write, & I am suddenly to home.

    My life uncircumcised, creation swells

    Where others sleep at midnight, I hear bells:

    My seven elders whisper from the wall

    Tho no one else can hear them, I am called

    For all my lives are brought about by words

    My mind defrocked, unfeathered, undeterred

    My dreams can wait til daylight in the world

    A child’s fist, the words inside, uncurled.

  • Happy Birthday To Me

    Happy Birthday To Me

    Today is important, but only to me. Today I begin to explore my 7th decade on the planet. Today I plan to lay down new trails for more serious exploration, to turn away from old pathways that led me into soul’s harm – imaginary pain, taking offense where none was intended, poor habits of health, seeking not the perfection of the moment in the simple ease of drawing breath.

    I might ask what I have learned & jot some notes: wordsmithing is a fine art, worthy of paeans of praise, but only in a literate society. It is a far better art to adjust to where the world lives now & dwell there. Yet in the places I cannot bring myself to gather up & enter – the worlds of Facebook & Twitter & Gab – so much energy surges, pulses, quivers upon itself, turning about & racing free. At times, I like the idea of hive mind; but only when applied to flocks of birds turning as one over the face of sunset. Humans need to unite over more than surface stimulus & unity of heartmind is so much more important than the latest line dance. Although I must admit, one might lead to the other.

    Recently, I participated in a play called “Beyond A Reasonable Doubt.” it wore so many attributives: but mostly it was a moment of intense focus wherein all my energy applied. It was triumphant, except where it was not, where I took umbrage at my own mind’s seeming incapacity to remember long passages of mono/dialogue. And at others’ seeming inability to recall these as well. I lost my intensity as I reflected personal frustrations outward.

    Recently, I took on an office job, thinking a return to a regular paycheck would remedy some immediate financial needs. Yesterday was my last day there, after six weeks. I simply could not relate to it in the way I once did.

    Last night I did a 90-minute massage on a woman with self-diagnosed fibromyalgia. It was a barter that her friend offered to grant her ease from constant discomfort. I observe how the world goes around, kindness touching upon gift.

    This morning I awake & seek new habits for myself. Once again free from rigorous scheduling. Momentarily, I scheme upon what I need to acquire, the “this n thats” of a life already out of balance financially. I opt instead for choosing new screen savers. From a wide open, sunny beach, I travel to misty mornings with a far dragon lifting wings upon her hill. This would seem a more fitting approximation of status. Comfort needs to rise above need – & a realization that I already am comfortable precedes acquisition. I offer “so help me, God” not as an affirmation of innocence, but as a softening prayer, for I alone am unable to overcome some ideas which need to be removed from the forefront. I need to turn the kaleidoscope one small twist. I choose to be more giving in the light of other’s gifts. None of us can afford largesse in my circles, yet we all practice it assiduously. Hive mind, indeed.

    Lest this all seem too heavy for a promising morning to a day of celebration, I offer up a chuckle at how things turn out. The play was a grand success here in town. Word got out that it was good & we had a great audience turnout – a marvel in this half-horse town. I was lauded at a local restaurant with recognition … both a blush a treat! I’m told our play garnered more than any other offered this year by the local community theatre group. It caused rifts – one stagehand took umbrage at being told not to use her cellphone during performance, sitting in the audience. Obvious? But two people quit over it, while another was castigated by a fourth’s unwarranted accusations. More learning. Here, where a hive mind should have united in pleasure of success lay emotional carnage.

    And lest this all be too heavy for a September morning where you live, ponder this: it seems to be a custom that the cast gives each other gifts…so because my character complained loud & long about having to wear manacles during the plea bargain session, our director gifted me with fur-lined handcuffs. Yesterday morning, I hid them in three different places before leaving for work; none safe enough from imagined burglars. I cast mind all day about where to pass these on…I’m not one for holding onto anything I cannot use in the immediate (!) nor intend to use in the near future (!). I dare not bring these to any of our local thrift shops…all goods are brought inside & inspected at these. And “re-gifting” them is far beyond my contact list.

    From the sublime to the mundane with the stroke of a pen. Guess I can leave them in the packaging for my heirs to ponder when I’m gone. Guess I’ll continue to live well so as not to have this be soon…I can see me blushing from the afterlife!

    Be well upon your days, my friends. Rest easy in your minds & hearts. Bring love to every encounter. Never surrender your ideals for less & always be aware how easy it is to fall in love just a little bit every day.

  • Peeling the Price Tags Off Life

    Peeling the Price Tags Off Life

    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

    In its course

    The life you bring to life

    Is unbelievable

    Were it not to be believed by simple existence

    Keep moving forward, keep holding forth

    Your heart, keep offering

    Your being to service

    For everyone is more needy than you

    By virtue of not being you.

    With love,

    Carol Borsello          9.15.2018

    http://www.carolborsello.blog

  • Last Chances Are Seldom That

    LAST CHANCES ARE SELDOM THAT

    Betimes, I weary of this life, even my own name.

    Far horizons sing more clearly every day

    Tho I long for them no more.

    The trick of the light

    Turned to a trickling

    After rising oceans

    Stole the land I stood upon.

    This place is only an awakening

    I play at touch while longing for a full contact event.

    I flirt when I long to fall & be fallen upon.

    I bring forth this love like a treasure found in the junkdrawer.

    So long pushed aside looking for a real thing.

    There is only potential to be made of

    Skin & tactile surface

    These imply anticipation, a discovery of imagination…

    All I need would be/could be given into Love

    I am willing now, to release & relearn

    To go public with private passions…

    Bring me to the Gate, O Love,

    I weigh the latch in hand & lift it free.

    I could care less of being found beautiful

    I am as you imagined me

    Finally, in the state of knowing it so.

    The thoughts of others so long imagined

    No longer slow me down

    Or turn me away.

    They travel over me as water over stone

    Giving off rainbows.

    A quicksilver moment

    The prophecies predicted you

    But left out so much –

                You’re married

                You’re committed

                You’re entangled

    You’re a stranger, really.

    These are not up to my undoing.

    We are close by circumstance only

    Who started it anyway?

    So unlike me, yet it must have been.

    I am an ever-opening heart.

    I am the last to love, an unmarked trail

    Full of my own footprints,

    Far too familiar from following alone.

    The light has changed. I’m in another era

    From that last bumbling home.

    There’s a mystery as to what could be discovered,

    The farthest indelible vista

    Of the lover I see reflecting in your eyes.

    I feel an impish sense of grace

    A dance of infinite energy

    Love animates my bones, adds a sparkle here & there

    Smooths my skin, manifesting like silvering rain,

    I will find you; I will sing you onto the waters where I walk

    Upon your thoughts

    I am always ahead of you…waiting

    The trips & triggers of clandestine love

    Surround me, a deepening mystery

    Of which I shall not speak.

    A white flash of light in closed eyes

    Turns my sleeping head to you

    I walk with my heart in both hands

    This simple single offering to you.

    Come to me

    Remove the layers of obligation

    Like overheating wool

    Your heart is stiff with scars

    I will make whole.

    Offer me but a passing glance

    A ticklish whimsy

    My heart will do the rest

    Take me at my words, this austere truth

    Gone lush with longing

    Only this: to feel you skin to skin

    Like air in secret places

    Cooling fevers of unknown origins.

    It’s not that I’ve kept myself

    For anyone, I’ve just kept myself

    Because I didn’t know you were here to share this with.

    Your hands stay at your sides

    When I will them “touch me.”

    Your body stays separate

    When I will it to melt into mine.

    Let’s redefine all boundaries

    Bridge all separations

    Because we’re made from love for love…

    I can’t be shy about us any more

    I love your smile; I beg your touch

    I wait your arms returning around me.

    I look at you

    And there isn’t a “no” to be heard.

    Last Chances & Random Rhymes

    The lights are all off

    Moonlight through the window,

    Strange Venetian stripes

    Make you exotic.

    Words will not say this

    Like your hands on my skin

    Chilled & heating both

    Speaking cell to cell

    A communication nonpareil.

    I need a man with long arms

    Willing eyes – see past this skin

    To the heart ablaze within.

    Take me now, I’ll last forever

    The end of time never so near

    As when we kiss & match our bodies,

    These beginnings opening fissures.

    No word so pure as touch

    Escapes this pen

    Time has melted from the clock

    Held tight to you again.

    I promised to clean house

    But I am writing poems

    About backing into love

    Since we cannot meet face to face.

    There has to be a way

    Around or through

    I refuse to take this underground

    When all I can see is your sky to fly into.

    The Most Dangerous Words

    Are those unsaid

    They hide like thorns in greenleaves

    They are unkind, unkempt,

    Blackened by Truth.

    I brawl & bawl & break open

    As they pierce me.

    Something is bleeding here.

    All I ask for is a heaven

    To rest in.

    A sigh to rest upon.

    A love to press into

    To wrap myself around

    All I have is reaching fingers

    When we have to draw apart.

    My eyes would fill with you

    And not these tears

    But love is a

    Never-ending ending.

    There is an alarm going off in my heart

    Like that insistent reminder charm

    Messages await.

    But this is written in blood & fire

    I die to hit the “send” key –

    Releasing our love to the world.

    I have made up a story

    I am pretending your regard

    I’m playing at becoming your fantasy.

    Even at my fabulous age –

    Desirable, warm, funny, talented…

    The crest of love forgotten:

    The Love of A Life again…

    “Ping!”

    Oh, there it is again

    It’s such a short message I want to say

    To just one of the eight billion of us here,

    “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

  • Footfalls

    Footfalls

    Gently, so gently do I touch love

    The petal of a flower

    With a tendency to curl into protection

    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.

     O Lord.

    Carol

     

     

     

  • The Collective of Silence

    The Collective of Silence

    THE COLLECTIVE OF STILLNESS

    There’s not far to go before the land starts insisting

    I am alive in every place I stand

    The telepathy of clouds

    Drawing my face to the sky

    The valley bows to my feet

    The Rock People watching.

    ——-

    I am listening as hard as I can to the Silence

    My ears so still (no cilia vibrating)

    No sound save Eternity

    Settling in for the long run.

    ——

    Earth whispers to me of immortality

    Longing to be a poem

    It tells me to take it everywhere

    That water-meadow in Wisconsin

    Chesapeake Bay largesse

    The stone-poems of rock nearby

    An unchanging safety

    Waiting to claim all flesh

    I am immortal as I can be in this moment

    The activation of love in a grain of sand.

    ———

    The spare skeleton remains; a lace & calcium poem

    Yellow-white teeth resembling long-bone toes

    I will be blanched

    Gnawed by coyote cubs, dragged, growling, to dens

    Sung into sunrise: danced on four legs

    ——–

    Roadside flowers

    Visible only en masse

    A color smudging the landscape

    Wreathing no arches

    Serving as Butterfly’s foothold

    Nectar in a bitter landscape.

    ——–

     

  • Aging to Perfection…

    Mortality / Schmortality

    Third person me

    She walks with the confidence

    Of a big-breasted woman

    35 a dim echo as its double approaches

    No long gray tresses here,

    But short, sharp spikes

    For the divine connection.

     

    Thick around her center

    Description: Rubenesque

    Undefined by Twiggy-standards

    A short, Italian fireplug of female

    Passions wrapped in brain & heart;

    Sharp-tongued, less than tolerant…

    Strong hands, a wrinkly smile

    Entering her eyes first.

     

    She’s tasted risk & lived on love

    Fearless, present; a solid woman

    Ready for the next act

    The third trimester of

    Maiden, mother, crone.

     

    Age Happens

    Long after youth has fled the parade

    Life lengthens beyond

    Childhood

    Adolescence

    Adulthood

    An unerring arrival (never expected)

    It takes up residence

    In spots, in strangely-shaped vein whorls.

    It’s a celebration & a culmination

    A triumph & a terror –

    Not that it will end poorly,

    But that it may not be well-accomplished.

     

    The Divine Miss B

    Age is the last factor of life

    Positive on the balance sheet

    But only after you’ve gotten past

    All other negotiations.

     

    At first, it was a nuisance

    I asked for laugh wrinkles, but this?

    Ridiculous!

    The 50’s slipped by

    The 60’s kind of danced along

    Now, here I stand at 70:

    The threshold of being Born Again

    Having it finally, my way.

     

    Being able to ignore the life-beast

    Or take it to bed,

    Suck it dry:

    I rise triumphant!

     

    My birthday hides in September

    I have tried, am trying, to pay my debts

    To be faithful to the oligarchs

    Who file their nails at my door

    Yawning as they await their monthly checks.

    I have a Final Solution for you all…

    It might be the best payment I can come up with…

    When I am dead, someone scatter my ashes

    In front of the banks.

     

     

     

  • Hooks On Heaven

    Hooks On Heaven

    SET MY HOOKS ON HEAVEN’S RIM

    Prayer over prayer, I climb

    Searching in wonder for whomever therein dwells

    Lords & ladies?

    Saints, angels…

    Crossing rainbows latticed of beliefs

    Buttressed by Faith

    This is harder than I thought:

    Escaping humanity

    While wearing a skinsuit!

     

    GOD’S BEARD

    I’ve never lacked fortitude or fortune

    Promised God in every encounter

    I examine each for divine traces

    Sometimes finding only one gray hair.

     

    8 A.M./FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH

    The hot, fierce light of New Mexico

    Seasoned by overcast

    To a blend of blessing-cool

    A morning to sit outside

    Traffic blowing by in purposeful wind

    Life catching its breath

    For one more day on Planet Earth

     

    TRUE/FALSE

    Who can trust wisdom anymore?

    That of the ages is pop-stuff now

    Our minds are far beyond the tenets

    Deep in personal responsibility

    Dig in, my Soul, find the

    Traction of grace

    Levity of blessing

    Spores of holiness…

    Follow the perfume of angels a-wing

    Orient towards the Divine

    It’s the scent of love

    Fresh-baked & set

    Upon an open windowsill

    Of a morning.

     

    CREATION (Two Views)

    Father

    I wonder if God donned an apron

    Then set to shape the World.

    Dusted His hands in flour & water

    Before patting up the clay…

    Could be He set us up along the

    Fence ‘round Heaven

    Walking down the line

    Breathing out

    Blowing us into the twice-blessed world.

    I like that He clapped us up out of nothing

    Cobbled up a world to home us

    Blessed it blue & brown

    Setting our souls a-wing into space-time.

     

    Mother

    Maybe a Mother made us

    Searching the rag-bag pile

    For scraps in red & yellow,

    Tan & black…

    Pulling these free &

    Settling on a stool to

    Fill a whimsy.

    How lovingly she worked,

    Symmetrical & shapely –

    Imagine us, the source of Her delight

    As we began our Song of Thanks…

    Her affection captured, She

    Fell to earnest Creation:

    A world for us to dwell upon

    Creatures to ride & roar & race

    Greens to eat

    God! She thought of everything!

    Even water to get us clean again,

    Brains to continue in personal conceivings,

    Hearts to love…

    Then up to bed She went

    And in the morning, we were gone.

     

     

     

  • Dreaming Change (Happy 4th of July!)

    Dreaming Change (Happy 4th of July!)

    Have I dreamed this sea-change boiling across America? It’s a kind of Stadium Wave happening across our country as one group stands up, thrashes about, & another sits down.

    In Hawaii & other places, land forms & rearranges itself, heaving from unknown depths in an incredible brew of white heat & black rock. Mountains slide sideways & crush nascent dams. The sun seems to fracture its light or appear as a shadow behind itself. Shorebirds land far inland as their photos appear all over media. Bears move onto porches to reside next to the woodpile. Whales beach themselves in unprecedented numbers. I certainly am not dreaming this.

    We are threatened with 5G technology, a weapons-grade “helper” which is proven to confuse minds, cause headache, scramble thinking, sadly being installed in schoolyards. No way I might have made that up. What have “the powers” got against us? Why do they hate us so, to spray Round-Up on our fresh foods before releasing these to market, to redesign vegetable cells & redraw gene structures? I don’t want drought resistance laddered into my tomatoes, or insecticides rendered into my smoothie strawberries. I would love for the corn I buy to be corn & not engineered fuel.

    I read about MK-Ultra-driven shooters, each with his own therapist/handler to bring out the worst prior to setting him loose in the populace. I don’t want to meet any Montauk boys – or girls for that matter, during the course of my day.

    Information bears many prefixes: mis-, dis-, non-…but all I want is the straight story of events, their causes, their outcomes & how they are being addressed. What happened in Las Vegas & why do we hear no more about it? Were the men in black Kevlar at Parkland School unworthy of notice or comment by mainstream media?

    I see short-sightedness & stupidity visited upon my neighbors & friends as a form of friendly fire masquerading as guidance. The skies twist in places, braiding clouds to bruise the logical mind. Groundwater disappears overnight, while downpours loosen rocks, in turn eradicating roads.

    Whole populations rise from what they perceive as stinging insult, but instead of simple rhetoric, they line up cannons. Today I saw a star-spangled top on a woman while her significant other wore a sage green tee with a black automatic weapon stenciled on it. I actually wondered which was more representative of America at present.

    Huge lines of people are on the move elsewhere & then become the butt of argumentative behavior wherever they try to arrive. I’m well aware not everyone is who they seem to be in these groups…no vetting has been enacted, the children with them may not be theirs & the Four Horsemen often ride alongside them, witting or no. But while we may wish them to return to their roots; this is an impossibility since the divide & conquer mentality of politicos has rendered their homelands deplorable. We created the problem we complain no one can solve.

    We close borders to them, while our own destabilize, the very land humps & shivers, children disappear, economy spirals into the gray on the dollar bills, downgrading the green. We’re in an interactive system & need to recognize it’s a closed loop – atmosphere, nation-building, health – all connected in an intimate dance of creation & flow.

    We have indeed released the Kraken we were assured might be controlled if only this, that, or the other happened. It rides the crest of the sea-change we experience, tentacles lashing out in fury.

    The lies need to be refuted & remedied from both sides. The power to exercise global change must first bear some resemblance to what we wish the change to be. We straddle worlds so divided we cannot conceive agreement & attempt to enforce transformation. This clear & present danger to our individual selves & souls must be brought into order. At last glance, the Kraken was gaining, making this difficult indeed. The whole setup never came with an instruction book, tho many agreed upon what they perceived to be one in the Bible. Unfortunately, rules no longer apply & oratory serves no purpose.

    Dissolving each boundary that is set, whether personal, political or perceptual, is sorely needed. Certainly, the world itself seems bent upon dissolution. But ours as humans came first. When promised heaven, what can we do with being delivered to hell?

    Indeed, the storm is upon us & before its rage, we race for safety. It takes interesting people to live in interesting times, to counter the curse & give birth to amendment so enormous it is soon obvious we took on too much too fast. I don’t know where life’s demarcation occurs between forgiveness & right action, but I walk that thin line of light every day, in every encounter.

    We each need to be great again as individuals for the country to be so. We need to curb the absolute power each one of us thought it so easy to handle. We have worn out the rule of law by applying it with force. Let us now try to administer it with love. It can be done. It is so quiet when we stop screaming. Change becomes possible, when love is used as the unerring power source to stoke its engines. Love is the only leash the Kraken will bow its scaly head to, rest its whipping limbs within, close its bulging eyes to rest upon.

    Dig up your individuality, dust off all cliché it has rested in. Move your heart to the forefront, stop trying to think through unthinkable times. We must stop the harm out there to stop the harm being visited upon us. Do it now, as it’s unlikely we will ever have the full story!

    Give the impossible its due: our hearts are online now, networked, hooked up, tuned in. Put the children in the center of the circle for protection, remove them from harm. With your eyes open to the future, attend to the present. Declare nothing to be unbelievable, even Peace in Our Time.