A day with a grandchild is a blessing.
He stacks bloodstone agate chalcedony
in piles of powerful ceremony
on the window ledge. Requests baloney
and macaroni, but food that’s phony
has no place here. We munch apples, snow peas,
laugh and sing and paint ambidextrously.
Then he brings out the wooden figurines
and solves his mysteries in improv scenes.
Inspired by: Chalcedony, Ambidextrous and Macaroni.
Featured image: These wooden constellation figurines are my grandson’s favorite tools for his improv scenes.
A blue jay’s warning, dark clouds are forming
the heat a hint under these leaves storming
later they say so I pay attention
to what is in front of me, suspension
of belief in the false narrative news
brought to me by slaves of greed paying dues
to dive deep into cages of false gold
they’ve sold their souls. My tenacity cold
their siren calls appeal not at all. Light
bursts through clouds, persistent wren sings delight
proclaims that joy is now. I focus well
as the singing of my heart breaks the spell.
Inspired by Tenacity.
Featured image: Sun breaking free of clouds through the leaves this morning, kaleidoscope filter.
Though the cowbird is often maligned, it arrives as a symbol of being highly adaptable.
In dreams I visit my grandparents’ yard
apples and peaches and grapes. The old guard
scarred from the bank fail no longer invests
in powerful cartels, grow food bequests
planted in my memory. Apathy
a weed uprooted. Fam’ly balladry
singing to signs of upcoming collapse:
remember your roots, avoid the old traps
as society is detonated
and the predators set sail, greed slated,
a cowbird lands and calls, the buffalo
exterminated, she’s here even so
the human spirit still unquenchable
planted in the living earth, integral
mirroring a vast whole, we are fractals
we see through lenses micro or macro
Inspired by: Powerful, Apathy and Sail.
Featured image: An hour after sunrise today, trying to photograph a spider’s web.
And so I wake in the morning and I step outside
And I take a deep breath and I get real high
And I scream at the top of my lungs
What’s going on?~Linda Perry
I sit in stillness as sun reaches through
trees, gold glinting joy as these sparrows spew
unmelodic cheeps, idling car’s exhaust
I’m sneezing on the brink and doublecrossed
and there’s no one to blame. ‘Situation’s
all fouled up’ suffices. My creation
as the old interpretation’s dwindling
fuels my campfire’s blaze, becomes the kindling.
The energy required to support lies
once freed can feed a delicious surprise.
The story we are small, star-crossed, alone:
a narrative composed to steal our home.
Secrets apparent dawn illuminates
before the chemtrails come to dissipate
clarity, ambassadors of doom’s sting.
Now unweaves the spell, you light the gloom. Sing.
Inspired by: Ambassador, Campfire, Blame and Suffice and this song by 4 Non Blondes.
Featured image: Sunrise on the water.
The starting point of every amble now
and how we got here is ignored. We bow
as victims of vicissitudes of life
and struggle forward trampled by our strife
tender as our doormat ways persist in
pummeling self-created dissonance.
What if the premises that we’ve been taught
disintegrate in the light, reveal naught
but obfuscations, manipulations
crushing creativity sedation
by hypnotic narration? Embrace change
new eyes question reflections so deranged.
Inspired by tender, eyes, doormat, trample, vicissitude and written in the Stream of Consciousness Saturday for amble.
The sun’s halo of pure gold fades the night’s
languishing. I’m touched by cool rising light
terrific, revitalized. The phone rings
quacking ducklings in a line are running
worldwide the archontic influence hums
hypnotic tales but deep in hearts the thrums
of clarity pierce dark clouds, time and space
constructs revealed, false premises discased.
Inspired by: Terrific, Worldwide, Languish and Halo.
Featured image: The ducklings ran too fast–there was a cat involved–so I took a photo of fleeing goslings.
Just after sunrise sparrows quarrel. Head
aches so I hydrate, caffeinate. The dead
cannot reach me to console through this buzz.
Unusual no robins come. What does
it cost me as I change, think contrary
to the crowd so weighed with fears they carry?
I’m alone and therein lies my power.
The screens can’t teach me. My leafy bower
a gift. This present I open slowly
the perfect mirroring now shows me
like the new moon reflecting how to tune
a better melody last days of June.
Inspired by: Better, Unusual, Contrary and Console.
Last summer each move watched with accusing
eyes, shaming my bare feet grounding, choosing
to aim the swell of denial my way.
In the crush I grew flabby, couldn’t say
my truth. I had to loose my grip and slip
into grief’s depths alone, a trip
that brings me to now’s shore of summer, strong
and gaining muscle as I right the wrongs.
Rooted at last my heart where I belong
at home and finally trusting my song
I question all the tenets I’ve been taught
discard the menace that false premise wrought.
I take this robin’s song person-ally.
My feathered messengers exalt these trees.
We breathe in tune. Petwalkers wave. I smile,
creating harmony, a life worthwhile.
Inspired by: Swell, Crush, Shaming, Flabby and the insights from a year of grief.
In the morning canopy I vibrate
unity. Fern leaves call for me to hydrate.
Robins swoop. Out of the loop jobbery
undetected elected robbery
explained yet met with languor as offshore
bank accounts swell too easy to ignore
we struggle to pay rent, hold up our heads
as the tsunami of debt made by feds
floods the gardens my ancestors described
primitive, wild beauty stolen from tribes
they didn’t recognize, trembled in fear
they would pay for the theft they held so dear.
The debt unpaid, the interest crippling now
as our belief systems imprison how
we’re restrained in our self-made cells, asleep.
How will we wake up, when we’re plunged so deep?
Chemtrails obscure the blue, the ground is paved.
Blue screens entice and hypnotize, enslaved
until at dawn we rise and tune. We’re free
as soon as we abandon greed and see
Inspired by: Unity, Explain, Languor and Robbery.
This morning’s scrutiny: air quality
alert, a mess of haze fiend polity
archon-produced to wipe out insights’ cache
with patterns of deceit absurd and brash
the product of greed in a headlong rush
to crush creativity, hush and shush
No contest. The birds and trees and I free
our songs, tuning a different world, we sing
sovereignty. Hypnotic screens’ stealthy sting
is just a dream. We are awake. The sun
beams through the man-made clouds, long-lost loved one.
Inspired by: Insight, Patterns, Scrutiny and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt product/produce.