Daily Practice

Seek freedom and become captive of your desires. Seek discipline and find your liberty.~Frank Herbert

I’m prompted to cogitate upon links
between pneumonia and tobacco. Think
like a musician–embouchure perfect
so pitch is changed with a twitch. Reflect

how practice with intention opens eyes,
reveals the fleeting pink held in blue skies
and analyze no more. The rabbit holes
of whys designed to maze embodied souls.

Inspired by: Tobacco, Pneumonia, Embouchure and Cogitate.

The Sacred Vessel

You know that we are living in a bacterial world and I am a bacterial girl.

Who wields the power in this mawkish crew?
The fight assails me, I am down, one, two.
They battle and the toxins exit, vile,
and I’m tossed like a doll, unmercied wiles.

Whenever I am sailing in beliefs
that ego-driven mainstays steer the beast
I truly am–microbiota waves
informed by light purge the ideas of slaves.

I have misconceived my very essence.
Just who breathes sacred life-coalescence?
Not knowing how or why, edge of abyss,
I walk a multitude in layered bliss.

Inspired by: Crew, Bacterial, Wield, Mawkish and a brutal weekend of purging toxins. (I’m all better now.)

Morning Notes

“We are like Hansel and Gretel, leaving bread crumbs of our personal information everywhere we travel through the digital woods.”~Gary Kovacs

In this bright spring morning, notes of music
fleeting signals mark a trail, rise muse-like,
and dissipate if I’m not sitting here
dedicated to my craft. I hold dear

this inexplicable flow, sound-magic
precious hour I weave into the fabric
of my life where songs of praise coincide
with healing miracles performed by night.

The recipes censored from cyberspace
are melodies plants and trees share with grace.
I could have called a doctor in a rush,
but they, condoning masks, have lost my trust.

And so I sing electric body’s songs,
listening carefully, righting the wrongs
dissonance creates when we’re hypnotized
by bells and whistles, lights spinning our eyes.

Inspired by: Note, Music, Crumbs and Coincide.

Waking in Chaos

There’s no method to this madness. Fiction
spreads like thick molasses, soothing friction
that truth demands. Waiting, tamed by beliefs
that a wise caretaker will allay griefs.

Form a line. Stand patiently while a screen
directs the evildoers’ games. Machine-
taught, purity tainted, bred to power
futurity. Slave owners’ manpower

is educated in mandated ways
to entrain and sedate. Deep in the maze
how to lift up a gaze, discern what’s real?
I sit and breathe, give space to how I feel.

Hope unfurls, a single frond signals spring.
Hands deep in chilly soil, a thrilling zing
as nature teaches. Layered like an ace
in a tarot spread, earth blessings embrace.

Inspired by: Method, Ace, Frond and Purity.

Budding Genius

Genius is an infinite capacity for taking pains.~Thomas Carlyle

My mother was my first reader, spying
my diatribes (pure angst). Prying, writing
censure against dangerous emotions.
Her unsought notes set feelings in motion:

betrayal, outrage, anger, grief and fear.
The bad ones I should parcel out–not here–
far away freedom to say, just shove it.
While in my cells, ancestral hordes covet

bright life force, vital and wild. Past mistakes
could be healed by this child. Successive takes
keep failing, the patterns keep flailing whip-
like retribution, scoring wounds that strip

away hope. I’m enslaved, wishing to flee,
generations of neglect dogging me.
I breathe. And alternating pen and broom,
I write and sweep, my power now abloom.

Inspired by: Emotions, Dangerous, Parcel and Covet and the certainty that now is not the time to flee. In this hour, assume our power and step by grueling step unravel the mess at our doorstep.

New Cosmology

The kitten’s shooting marbles ‘cross the floor.
Je t’adore, mon chat: impavid, explore
the darkest corners, eager for a fight.
Leaping ninja acrobatic delight.

While I clean out the litterbox, intent
on sifting these last vestiges–content
affianced with my once delusional
views science-propelled truth illusional

I breathe new power. My cosmology
sprouts in consonant musicology.
Harmonious beings snooze at my feet:
familiars, furry, curious, complete.

A new perspective affords a release.
Concordance tastes extraordinary, sweet.
I cannot save you, so I set you free
distortions in my electricity.

Beware the group-think, my heart, the grasping
claws, the biting jaws, confusion rasping
propaganda harsh and unreconciled.
The individual’s song free and wild’s

the only savior in the game. Let loose.
Follow your joy, imagine with your juice!
Comes now the equinox. Flame into spring.
The world is waiting for the gifts you bring.

Inspired by: Vestige, Sprout, Affiance and Impavid. And the “beware” line heavily influenced by recent readings of my beloved Jabberwocky to my favorite Aries in the featured photo.

The Past At Our Backs

Carrying marbles, the kittens burst in.
Lethal claws cause no anguish; they’ve been trimmed.
Still I duck. They attack. Glass balls gyrate.
The volatile clock leaped into dark’s sway

in the night. Now I rise, my direction
unclear. I fumble for lights, inspection
might pierce through this fog. Now a dog enters
the melee, wagging tail innocent, her

invitation to pounce–she’s trounced. Poem
flowing, the running beat of feet: grandchild
whirls in. Ancestral patterns keep showing
beyond our ken, cast shadows tall and wild.

Inspired by: Duck, Direction, Anguish, Volatile, a change to daily savings time and kittens who run with marbles in their mouths.

Love Insists

Housekeeping is like being caught in a revolving door. ~Marcelene Cox

In the morning, love insists I redo
what’s been undone in the dark. Teens go through
the night kitchen with zest, unscrew and xertz
and spill amidst the kittens’ howling concerts

fierce tumbles and bold leaps. A disaster
zone, in short. Add the dogs. A forecaster
could simplify my gripes. It is ordained
this stress and mess. I interview harebrained

schemes, good intentions wrought–for I have bought
in, this sanctuary’s quirks food for thought.
I’m here in heart country and resolute
I clean my fractal, healing, destitute

of money. Energetically astute,
I ground and charge. My judgments now transmute.
The kitten purrs, then bites my thumb, my lap
the absolutely best place for his nap.

Written for these prompts: Simplify, Interview, Xertz and Resolute.

Reaching Now

In the morning all the wood I’ve chopped
scattered, splintered, soaked from the water
carried. Wisdom pearls I’ve cast dropped
and trampled, worthless in the slaughter.

There’s no incentive to be free
in this headlong pursuit by greed
digital voices’ endless screed.

I ground myself, simply breathe.
All around the fury seethes.

Why try to renovate
creations mired in hate?

I watch as love blasts
illusory pasts.

I do not know.
I persist, though.

This life pure,
my soul sure

the light
so bright

clear
here.

Written for these prompts: Renovate, Pursuit, Incentive and Free.

Loving Laughter

Where can I find a man who has forgotten words so I can talk with him?~Zhuangzi

I hear faintly through the din which foments
these torments birth-hatched. Ancestral ditch
swelling in orchestral flow that tunnels
through my deep dark mines. Despair funnels woe.

The fear is bred and fed by pure malice.
Programmed loved ones succumb, proclaim fallacy,
proselytize unknowing. Constant
feed nourishes insanity seeds. Taunt

with illogical leaps. Shaky therefores
swell the cacophony. In this great war
I chop wood, carry water. The laughter
hilarious roots out nefarious

plots and generational curses. Worse,
my own beliefs lead me to dread. Instead
I open my eyes, curious, breathe in
exhale furious what I’ve believed in.

Prompted by: Therefore, Tunnel, Foment and Hilarious.