To be aware of the silence can become pain for earthly [wo]man. But in the deepening silence there grows and ripens what [wo]man speaks to the stars.~Rudolf Steiner
In these starlit skies I watch the darkness
teeming, boiling to refine all that shapes
me as a woman. My past a stark mess
dreaming, toiling to define what escapes
my filters. We are trained quite brutally
not to see, to tell lies, yet still knowing
our sacred container beautifully
transmutes—frugal and precise winnowing—
turning the bruises into works of art.
My pure intentions keep me breathing here
Just like a birth, these are labor pains, heart
strong, I gasp and I surrender. All clear.
Inspired by: Watch, Refine, Darkness, Frugal and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt: Container.
I lionize the last buds of autumn
like them, I’m bursting to unfold in now
expansive, flowing in the skyclock hums
beyond extraneous constructs—kapow—
revealed time shrivels, rooted in the lies
and energy, coerced, we gave. No more.
I aggravate the status quo, surprise
the world, create exquisite bloom rapport.
Inspired by: Aggravate, Bud, Extraneous and Lionize.
Attention driving to hometown breakthrough
a bald eagle swoops above my car sky
master demanding: take the higher view
awaken with elation. This is my
chance to change the climate of oppression
correlate my curious uncanny
skills and hone my creative expression.
An osprey dives low, a vigilante
confident I’m competent to submerge
my head under emotional waters
and survive. A red-breasted hawk urges
me, be an unconventional daughter
Inspired by: Elation, Awaken, Climate, Correlate and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt: ‘tion.
“Good mornin’ starshine, there’s love in your skies.”~William Oliver Swofford
I see no sanctuary in ruins.
Bluejays are calling mystery from trees
after three cheered my housing app moving
to the dustbin; a year’s wait. Spinning free
under my new sky. Tillie clears the green
returns to the house, gentle love shining
generous and grounded. Sometimes when screens
blue-lit have captured the humans, mining
their energy to fuel the disputed,
she comes to me, big brown eyes seeing life.
I power my own creations, rooted
integrity, no resonance with greed.
Overnight petunias became stars, glow
whitely across water defining tasks:
Choose carefully under which light I bask.
Odd requests merit respect. Old knowing
insubstantial, a raven’s cry, not mine.
A new blazing sun arrives. Fall is near.
Multilayered, I celebrate, aim high.
Fear a false construct, I see now what’s dear.
Inspired by: Raven, Bask, Odd and Respect
“It’s on the strength of observation and reflection that one finds a way. So we must dig and delve unceasingly.”
― Claude Monet
These draconian schemes sloppily writ
uncertain citizens firmly to tamp
into the pipe—worries gone when it’s lit!
Hardpressed to venture under stars to camp
now the old scriptwriters are fired. Flimsy
play on words, reminiscent of George
Orwell, the omnilegent clearly see
feeble attempts to convince. Writers, forge
new insights! Dig under heavy war chests
—paid in full by the people in its sights
proclaiming all that is not right. It’s best
to be present, create anew. The fight
just fuels the remnants of what’s disappeared.
Here a leaf falls silent, a straight dropping
into the lawn’s embrace. And what we’ve feared
revealed as story. Greedy, unstopping
stolen wealth convincing millions of us
jobless, homeless, to go somewhere safe, sit
still til this abates, no need for a fuss.
Your new cage ready, so jump in. You’ll fit!
Bid fear adieu, project your strong desire!
Imagine your creative powers allow
to build a different world. I’m on fire
ablaze, inspired, composing here right now.
Inspired by: Uncertain, Draconian and Omnilegent and the utmost certainty that Right Now it is imperative to speak truth unwaveringly.
These trees correct my posture, gently rise
with years of experience, euphoric
celebrations in this exquisite time
the crumbling of the slaveowners’ story.
In morning fall’s chill delight, I’m covered
barefoot mistake, I’m here for the sweet song
of stillness. Dare to be a sun lover
reach these life-giving rays. It is not wrong
to receive. A bluejay jeers flies crying
into the glare, wingtips translucent then
disappears, another realm applying
as the timelines collide. Remember when?
Here a portal to past. Equality
bestows a future door as well, beyond
the ticking clock, calendar page witty
and inept as bold we face and respond
what matters. Anchor swift changes. Herald
the weird and miniscule signs that Planet
Earth has rearranged. Our starship revealed
reorient laughing now we’ve landed.
Inspired by: Equality, Covered, Posture and Euphoric.
In the morning August flexes muscles
heated and sure with a riffling breeze
teasing the clinging leaves. They will hustle
in the fall, but right now they burn. The bees
are busy, penetrating drowsy blooms.
Grackles yawp and whistle staking treetops
as cicadas join the connection. Rooms
of realities rest lightly non-stop
infinite, open my heart’s convictions.
All the rainbows my childish eyes perceived
are back in town. I’ve loosened restrictions
—namecalling nerd closed parts of me, conceived
protective cages I no longer need.
The timeline shifts, I shower love and signs
upon that younger self of mine, stronger
now, imagining free, sacred, aligned.
Inspired by: Rainbow, Connection, Nerd and Yawp.
Now that more of society awake
shadowy explorations undertake
the gaping wounds and skeletons in sight
seething anger and grief patchwork the fright
No, I don’t stand aloof and classify
the consciousness rising before we die
I’ve spent last decade wrestling the dark
to claim my pieces beautiful and stark
and stand empowered as energy flows
this is the messy way every joy goes
hand in hand with each long-buried fragment
we consult our own treasure map, lament
frustrated til we let all judgments go
kaleidoscopes of being finally show
at last we find our wholeness, shame release
and love ourselves just as we are, at peace.
Inspired by: Classify, Aloof, Frustrate and Shadowy Explorations.
A big BOO to WordPress today. I couldn’t format these lines into quatrains or couplets–until Brian showed me how. Thank you, fellow bloggers, for helping us all in this, our hour of need.
And the italics button disappeared each time I selected text for it.
Tell me why, everything’s turned around. Open up, everything’s waiting for you. You can go your own way.~Lindsay Buckingham
The bluejay is telling us something
I’m oblivious with this warm bagel
and buttery ghee drips from lips
fingers I’ve switched the pen and it’s slow
like chittering cicadas waking to sun.
We regroup, come clean into center
as each illusion dies.
I’m not judging your looking outward
for guidance, following directives
you’ve been taught since childhood
by the ringing bells and hard-bottomed
chairs someone always knows better.
Speak up and wear a dunce cap
in the corner. What’s the opposite
of self-righteous? Maybe humble.
You’ve abandoned common sense,
where I live, but I’m no martyr.
Your path stretches out like the corridor
of cows led to the slaughter, signs
to keep you comfortable and competent
to walk in step with what’s expected.
Coloring inside the lines
who thought up the picture
you’re drawn into.
Daring to ask
for a new shade of blue.
What you create is all on you.
Inspired by: Martyr. Written in response to the dversepoets prompt to write a stream of consciousness poem.
Featured image: a tiny exquisite wild snapdragon that pushed through a very thick layer of mulch.
A black dog’s shadow
blocks the basement
I know from these lines
a song is welling.
And I’m writing in deep
silence lyric led
but Imma need ta belt this out
honor this gift
Songs are writing side by side
and laughing about it.
A quadrille to celebrate being in the right place at the right time as songs emerge.