once more, with feeling
More clear, direct
More substantial
or fantastic
What I need to say
What claws itself out from
some place
that is me.
Sense deeply processed
beneath my consciousness
released not in fleeting dreams —
here and now
What I need to tell you (plural you)
that we all already know,
hear, revile as saccharine sop
to futile reality —
innocent souls, before natality’s tolls,
toils, recriminations, banalities.
Who we have fallen into, become
without preparation or consent.
I so want to convince you (us)
all of a shining destiny
above petty declarations of war.
Craving more, a truth and justice
promised, like Santa Claus,
a human soul that loves, demands
mutual assured aid and comfort,
fulfillment of long sought paradise
because we can.
Lifetime Achievement
What is achieved in a life?
All those moments we live, feel.
Blood pumped,
air inhaled, expelled.
Voices, words that reverberate,
haunt, compel as passion
that won’t let go.
Grasp, if you can, those
floating threads each holding
chapters, stanzas, soul songs
that carried you through
excruciating days, months, years.
See, brilliant achievement,
creation, demons and gods
as needed, a whole world
intricately, intimately
perceived
Exquisite beauty –the essence of artistic
inspiration.
Aquarian rant
Ok, we all split into our
supposed safe places, self-affirming
speak against fears of alienation,
attack — valid fears.
Yet, here, we find not safety,
but ever more alienation, attacking,
sniping and escalating out from
each supposed safe zone
into the cold, dark THEM.
When will it truly, deeply,
existentially, occur to us
it’s time to release these bindings,
to become a people bound together
by our common, human needs, hopes,
curiosities, joys?
Trends are saying more and more
of us are dying of loneliness
within this great ocean of possible
companions, friends, loves
we have become too encapsulated
to see.
Bohemian waif
Inner cinema montage
deep echoing adventures,
strikes of color, light, paralysis
held in violent emotion.
A mere babe runs away across
a busy street, hiding beneath bushes,
because she could, demanding
independence.
Dark city nights, hugged to
myself, alone
Walking through brick and mortar
shadows,
past trashcan fires, street community.
Thumb out, shivering icy roads,
or flooded highways, bare foot
scorching desolate insomniac
miles.
Haunted explorations, led by that
fantasy aura obfuscating rational view.
Mini romances that cut through,
ashy
Across smoking stone overpass,
high to high school AP exam where
the words floated from rakish eye to
#2 pencil, an array of imprinted
history.
Lying in the garden on cotton,
tasting boysenberry yogurt,
hoping the world disappears,
ends here where the bullied
anxiety won’t follow.
Quiet now …
I’ll tell you more on morrow
only Money matters
not life of any color, creed, species,
years on Earth
not Earth
or any Universe
not love or fun, not hate or pain
or pain’s relief
not death or grief
not work that means a better future
strived for or a better now of peace,
creative play
We have given all of value away,
only give heed to
this one devised deity man made
to keep other people at bay
Playing
Curled up inside, becoming me who lives
within this song
where all it makes me yearn for is mine.
Playing
A simple song
with words that hurt like memories
lilting tune to carry you along
somehow devastating me
playing again and again
taking me over
reliving those moments
the music exposes,
back there and then
while drifting through now.
this side of the veil
This random holiday we call life
can feel tricky, a mystery to be
unveiled through daring travels
that map our trails.
*
Blessings of memories, to feel
again and still
winters’ brutal chill,
blanketed, in warmth – cocoa, love
of family discovered,
within healing web of friends.
*
This Side of the Veil
*
As I grow older, so many beloved people disappear,
beyond the veil, they say, into a better place
of endless peace.
We find ourselves here in life, each with our mission,
skills realized as we advance along our separate paths
that lead to the same destination, that shimmering veil
we can’t perceive beyond, screen upon which we paint
silhouettes of mystery.
Traveling winding paths, we meet, become, with time,
beloved, joined in gifts, fears, celebrations.
Who we are expands through inclusion, evolves
greater awareness, entwines bonds to humanity.
*
It’s this side of the veil where we choose who
those we leave behind will remember us to be.
It’s this side of the veil where we may
worship Earthly blessings, days to dance with
the Sun, come together to face mysteries,
dark nights to raise above;
where we devise solace of humor, simple fun,
the rush of touch.
It’s this side of the veil where we wonder,
play out mosaic stories, sing ritual reflections,
dance madly stretching, find inside our rendition
of humanity, express each our special light
along the line.
And this side where ultimate grief resides.
This side where we choose to pretend or truly
make amends for careless ignorance, mad cruelty,
take active stand against spreading pain and
dangerous lies.
It’s this side, here in our hands, crackling through
our imaginations, vast possibilities as yet unseen,
ours to grasp while hands we have.
*
Do you know those moments closer to the veil,
revealing shadow dance through sacred space,
liminal embrace of ecstatic empathy when
vibrations echo, reverberate, send ripples dancing
through the veil?
*
flower moon meditation
flower moon
I will be fine. We will be fine.
Every manner of thing will be fine.
Heavens of sunshine will open and flow
through our homes, through our souls,
through our Earth.
Life giving water will hydrate the fields,
replenish the lakes and streams,
delight our throats and skin,
revivify mirth and hope.
Throw all your cares into fresh air;
dance to a rousing tune.
What is the point of this time if we’re
always dying, denying true being?
What can we answer when asked:
What did it mean? What did you see?
Running in panic, not for the fun
of feeling legs rise and fall.
Running away as if there is somewhere
to go.
Stop. Take stock. Breathe inspiration.
Do the real work that needs to be done.
Work smart, not hard; merge work with fun.
Find the folks whose humor works with yours
and share the chores, like child’s play.
Day by day by day, we will be fine.
Every manner of thing will be fine.
I will be fine.
Beltane 2022
Beltane 2022
Fifth day in May, cross-quarter power blooms.
Sun strikes Uranus, sends shockwaves booming through.
We rise in dance, rejoining to our core
Praise Mother Earth, the love and joy we came here for.
Operator's Manual 