Immortal Play

I wake at the junction between the tracks
laid for the trains of thought which take me back
to murky past I’d fought forgotten, grieved
and lost. Tackled by beliefs I’d deceived

myself there’s no one left to blame. I send
condolences as all these ghosts ascend
released on their own recognizance, tied
by arcane cords of light, for though they’ve died

here they remain, the patterns firmly bind
as lessons spin their way through the designed
labyrinthine game, played for keeps, moving
through lives and deaths, wake and sleep, improving

Inspired by: Past, Condolences, Tackle and Junction.

Remember Who You Are

Wakening in the game precipitates
perceptions how mass hypnosis sedates
flummoxed by the sensory avatar
saved by a night walk under brilliant stars

and peeks into the windows of the damned
plugged into the programming screens they’re scammed
by scripted actors’ shrieks, media swill
impulsive leaps of fallacy so shrill

and mired in time-space how we forget
we are immortals training, we’re beset
by triggers and calamities to grow
our only mission: voicing our own show.

Inspired by: Precipitate, Shriek, Flummoxed and Impulsive.


The informed field awaits to magnify
your intent. Neutral, responsive, nearby
medium. You are the paintbrush: apply
tedium or create, optics defy,

in a flurry of inspired artistry.
Beyond the matrix lies uncharted seas.
What seems to be concrete a quantum leap
reveals the space between ready and deep.

Inspired by: Magnify, Flurry, Optics, Tedium, Concrete and this gem of a book by Jason Breshears, Awaken The Immortal Within.


Count on it, I’ll give a full description
but you can’t copy this, the encryption
is a multilayered enchantment: life
spontaneous as a flock of wildlife

created creating empowered play
pretending materiality’s sway
immortal beings diving into moil
solving, evolving, striving in earth’s soil.

Inspired by: Flock, Copy, Enchantment, Description and written in the Stream of Consciousness Saturday style to the prompt Count on it.

Were You Having Me On?

Over two years of dubious clampdowns
forsaken by gurus who cowed, bowed down
while out of the box I was scorned and shunned
barefaced, unmasked, intuition forewarned

now 96 countries have changed their tune
follow the money, travel is a boon
economies wrecked, prices through the roof
it’s been a big scam and now comes the proof

Inspired by: Travel, Roof, Guru, Dubious and written in the Stream of Consciousness Saturday for Out of the box.

Open and Bare

Gripped by unholy 5G overlord
inflammation soars. Packed away keyboard
but the phone radiates til I’m bleary
rub my eyes in the glowing screen, teary

look up to find I’ve been swept away, numb
powerlessness is programmed horror humdrum
worthless as halfpence, value obsolete
until I unplug, recall: life is sweet.

Inspired by Keyboard, Halfpence, Swept and Tears.

Featured image: Glorious sycamore in an unseasonably warm winter afternoon.


Ain’t it foggy outside? All the planes have been grounded.~Dewey Bunnell

A cloud descends to blanket the border
between the hidden worlds. Winter’s order
amiss, both spring and its predecessor
confusing all the weather professors

who paint broad strokes of continental streams.
Turning them off’s salubrious, it seems
we face our own peccadillos, no wrath,
accepting who we are on our own path.

Inspired by: Border, Both, Salubrious, Peccadillo, Winter and Hidden.


A leader is best when people barely know he exists, when his work is done, his aim fulfilled, they will say: we did it ourselves.” —Lao Tzu

Under my feet in the pearly rising
frosted grass flattens while symbolizing
the offer on my plate, intricate, strange
a subtle reworking to rearrange

reality which yesterday comprised
green grass, a golden sun and blue, blue sky.
The line between day and night now blushful
and fleeting, overcast sky soon muffles

all the serendipitous hints walking
reveals as out of my dreams I’m stalking
that delicate thread in our connected
web, guiding focus to what we’ve reflected

Inspired by: Leadership, Offer, Intricate, Frost, and the SOCS prompt “On my plate.”

Rejection Slip

Silence is consent. And silence where life and liberty is at stake, where by a timely protest we could stay the destroyer’s hand, and do not do so, is as criminal as giving actual aid to the oppressor, for it answers his purpose.~Ernestine Rose

In the dark hours before dawn, I rise
and bid the ogreish nightmares goodbye.
Face in the mirror, hand over my heart
I pledge my unique gifts. I’ll do my part.

My soul’s obligation is to embrace
while saying I do not consent. This place
and time show clearly what is durable.
The fear and greed recipe’s curable.

Be light and dance, I am advised. Shadows
chastise and all that I’ve despised disclose
the work I’ve yet to do, illuminate
the poorly written script as it deflates.

Inspired by: Durable, Ogreish and Obligation.