Beltane 2019

Dreams long enshrined touch magic of New Moon
Fourth day in May, cross-quarter fully blooms
Ecstatic dance to merrily entice
Into brave chance, Dame Future’s vast surprise
Divine delight invites inspired mirth
Renewed to life, we worship gifting Earth
Mother world, our one true holy land
Time to kindly honor Her command

dreamtime (for Kala)

That dream again.
Running, running,
but your feet are stuck, enmeshed in pavement,
though all of your intent runs in terror.
Demon warriors form themselves in the grey cloud that surrounds you, become denser, full 3-D attack.
You find yourself at war with your pillow, trapped in twisted sheets.
Another damned day to get through looms beyond the dream-storm tossed bed.
Creature, being, created from singular experience cocooned in dreaming.
Meditating, sitting, silent, still, watching metaphoric artfilm of revealed
truth waft like oracular smoke over beauty of this deep-blue pond contained
in floating ice offset by fog-faded mountain awareness.
Those dreams, those dreams, to live only there
where it all makes nonsense that feels so inevitable.
Stories unencumbered by beginnings, by logical progression, by
boundaries, yet pure and strong as sacred text.
That meat-suit we use for interface, to find and absorb sustenance,
input that makes us dependent on a scientifically defined world,
magically transcended, hours transformed outside of measurement,
of time.
Even those horrific, catastrophic images that angrily cast you back
into a waking sweat and terror, even they are breakthrough respite,
catharsis to contain, secure, untenable memories, fears.
Immerse with your story’s most salient themes.
Dream places connected in hyper-clear intensity
Lightning storm, steep stone climb from a college holiday
fair far below. 
Agitated, observing, moving fluidly in the multi-tiered library.
So much to take in, be drawn into, imaginary conversations with
bright-labeled books.  The library like a horror movie medieval tower,
fearsome.  Those snow-robed mountains, forests, royal Guard,
calling so softly, so forcefully, Sirening in, holding
for exhibition.    
Hard hills of snow become Summer fountain festivals
on opium fields, sickly sweet and sticky bun bewitching,
that cloying ecstasy you never want to leave.
Puissant, what drugs want to promise.  Free theater customed
to a singular crowd.  Instant, hologrammatic slice of eternity.
Perhaps a gift, brief respite from agonized responsibilities.
Respite from cold, pain, everyday injuries of innumerable mites
infected with pestilence, endless war.
Who we are in dreams, unobserved for critique,
pictures imbued with emotional sensation speaking
directly to our most private desires.
To live in dreamtime, free of censoring reality,
what would that mean?
Immersed in sharp colors, sensual, deeply felt geometries.  Circus
fools, acrobat costumes, hidden rivers along highways thicketed in
mystically perfumed foliage.  Scenes never seen in waking life, yet
perennially home, in dreamtime.
In the innocence of dreamtime, what have you seen?
Tell me your dreams.

for Brigid’s Day

For Brigid’s Day
Who am i to bow to You —
me shorn of love, without honor;
You an enduring Goddess,
long honored for your bounty
of knowledge, thought’s ground water
poured, shared, carried forward.
Goddess of brides,
of hope, of visions, of poetry.
We who want a deeper future for ourselves,
more kind, more wise,
a better definition for humanity,
assemble on bended knees to
beg, accept, express your beauty.
Humans alive to art,
flow of mystic cavern seas,
can synergize, can command,
manifest as Magick.

Intro Missive

Intro Missive
I wake up; I am what?
How do I be?  What can I do? What is my mission,
or necessity?  Is this I a being, a meaning, a part of a plan?
Will there be happening?
What next?
Wheels and fields of visions, infinite recession,
intricate decisions embedded, embroidered,
successes, negations, bright blue infused warm
breeze – at play above rustle of green.
Summer leaves burn into firebright mottle,
fall and fly, darkening sky, woodsmoke, porch lights,
soft etch of letters on windowbreath.
Soft touch of wandering tears, brushed aside.
Smile to teakettle’s song and throw a little jig to say:
we settle here, make a dance of each day,
crumble to rest.
There is more, much more, little and wide, hidden
inside mind folds secret/scarred/set free.
Look, see, immerse and imbibe, understand —
wattle in layers of seaweed, sand, brittle shards,
magic glass of prophecies and transcendent art.
My will wanders.  I shall abide.  Await reply.

shaken and stirred

Snakes & stones
& Dr. Bones.
Worlds of lies
within my eyes.
A chance to fake
a drunken wake
for romance forsaken.
Doorways to more ways
to choose
Fool’s paradise.
Ritual demands payment,
naked supplication,
rhymes intoned thrice
for Momma
for Poppa
for babes wandering in the woods
from salvation.
Deep in enchanted mist,
touch the veil
along the cortex,
dissolving reason.
Points detach from
The puzzle reformulates.

going live

look for answers when that feels like free entertainment
look for questions when those answers fail to thrill
look for special secret sparkling rays of mystery
or study history
or learn the ways of wizardry
dance, sing, get into the swing of days and nights,
human rights, and the lessons of mistakes,
or just embrace each moment, then let go
It’s not about what you know, but what you feel;
nothing’s real — enjoy the show

Midsummer Dream

Midsummer Dream
 dream to awaken
Send and heed this call:
expand those magical times
we take a break from
our oh so important war
(of all against all)
to invest in humanities,
philosophy, worship of beauty,
practical caring for the poor,
for future prosperity,
for awesome imagining
dancing dervishes beckon,
blessed in soaring song
our every wish released in
raucous play, rollick and sway,
express this day of reckoning as
peace and fun, this magic time for
every one and each to find our bliss
and never want nor need wars’ tortuous

Mother says

Enjoy the Sun
Enjoy the rain
Enjoy the love
Enjoy the pain
Enjoy the fear
Enjoy the rage
Listen intimately
to your broken heart
Feel its words; inhale its art
Dance, sing, self-embrace
and swing
Enjoy surprise, the changing tides,
this space in time while you’re alive.

forging a book of spells

forging a book of spells
Macabre danse, dark leaves in high wind.
Swift time to ask that boon of wizardry,
to recite or seize at magic’s will or mine.
To speak, demand, one must first understand
or stand under what’s to come from ignorance.
Breathe leaf and wind, their essence;
skillfully dream peace and blessings;
dance lightly within the danse.
Summing, coming to conclusion, studying illusion.
wisp ghosts grasp without touch, lick viscous tears,
slip, drift, dissolve.
Obscured signposts, numb of cold insists:  There!
hope for succor, for warm reception – just a silly scare
a sullied scar, a bully war, a stab of sorrow.
Better sums tomorrow, less confusion …
more resolution.
Dream dance surreal city stage, above
skylights, twinkle eyes of play romance,
swingtime love.
To feel explosive-ecstatic alive,
swirl, swoon, dive, with grace and awe.
Twirl akimbo in free fall, no walls, no floor —
air embraces.  Smiling Moon face beams in stasis,
gleeful spirits dip and sway a’flight
this enchanted night.
Judging character by outward attributes:
words for their letters,
men for their skin,
women for their pulchritude.
Long, dark robe obscures; eyes fixed on mis-painted sky,
false light of convenient ignorance.
When he who decides is he who profits,
packaging rules.
Hold pattern sewn so deep within, rip to open.
See, infection seethe, angry demon nest.
Deathgrin infestation decades in
screams destruction, roils, licks with pestilence.
Breathe, smile to invite connection; tightly hold,
rip out and close.
Wilderness encroaches, but not that natural friend.
Cold, no encouragement for motion, loner’s frigid emptiness.
how was a prison made of
ambition to widen wisdom?  Where went that golden prize
promised to the bold?
Old inspirations, imaginary wilds, heroic rambling tales
of bravery betrayed –
River runs ‘til dammed, then festers in its own demise.
Ogres’ tale sold to deny extrication from stagnation.
Desperate to feel delightful, levity.
Weight of desolation keeps inner space,
outer demarcation, oppressive, deadly dark.
In sunless depths, shadows can not be seen for reasoning.
Icy breath, unable to penetrate, offer calm effects.
Longing reach for elation, elevation, spell of illumination
— loving touch of smiling stars.
Cosmic powers, inhale starlight, eternity.
Release mortality, from root to falling leaves.
Move out, above, beyond denial’s bond.
Visions of boundless darkness call, catch hold,
carry like song, an endless sonority.
Wrapped in skeins ecstatic and fine,
guided past destiny.
War exhumes murder of that other you
the bad wolf child who mother banned
Banshee fled to far-flung lands seeking
freakish friends, fiendish plans for revenge,
memory enemies to stomp, squeeze, bleed.
Where were you when she died inside you?
Dark, distant images
indistinct, not a sign.
Or a sign of indecision,
others’ visions, or mine?
Silent, stagnant river
won’t reply to my tears.
Cold blood, frozen limbs
no longer carry on from here.