Stream of Being

There I met an old man
Who wouldn’t say his prayers,
So I took him by his left leg
And threw him down the stairs.*

I postulate that now is when
we collaborate consciously
practice zazen
as a planetary being
guaranteeing our well-being.
The subtle realms ring true
while wretches longing, sing blues
bewailing the lockdown
prison bars break down
and isolate, each unvoiced
song that seeks to rejoice
silenced, the malice echoes
through the death rows
alive in our cells
we carry the spells
of ancient lineage writhing
rushing to church and tithing
to be free of the curse
we can see, pray the universe
will reimburse these good deeds,
knocking down the weeds
that separation frames
and names in childhood games,
the propaganda that we live and breathe
long before we show our teeth.
We’re locked in time.
We can be free
reach out your subtle hand,
tune in with me.

Inspired by: Collaborate, Postulate, Subtle and Wretch and the childhood rhyme (a form of propaganda) Goosey, goosey, gander*. Featured image taken in Chingaza National Park, Colombia.

Sound recording here.

Medicine Bag

For E, choosing high school soon.

On the brink of this vast
wonderland, hurray resounds
off the cliffs of middle
school, where you’ve been
humming as you grow.
This tall man’s body you
inhabit with all the melodies
of childhood still alive
vibrating chords you can pluck
at will. I celebrate
your strength, tap your shoulder
to show your lineage,
this wave of life that thrums
to live in you, through you.
I offer crystals to support
your journey, grounding your
utter brilliance as you
navigate the openings,
releasing the false tones
to settle into your own instrument
finely tuned. You take your place
in the exquisite symphony.
Your voice is exactly
what we need to hear.
The song you are
magical and clear,
resonating into the musical
planet. Touched, changed,
we rejoice your being.

Inspired by False, Wonderland, Vast and Hurray.

Listen to this on soundcloud here.

Money For Old Rope

The path to crisis is boulder-
strewn difficult. One must
strenuously avoid the
temptation to do nothing–
that is, they say, when evil
triumphs. Beware any
chance to sit in silence
clear the inner murmuration
of starling-thoughts flying
intricate patterns of karmic
misperceptions. Try and try
again! Do! Move like a murder
of crows as the tempest
feeds on your panicked
activity. Onward, to the
breaking point! Trouble looms
and brewers, we foment
with such good intent, and yet,
our trajectile initiates from
hate, the very rules we seek
to dismantle. This is more than
we can handle.

We set down
the old-world tools
curious, unsighted
to receive what now
has newly lighted.

Inspired by: Triumph, Crisis, Nothing, Temptation and this photo taken in 1890 of my great-great grandfather visiting his son in Colorado.  Do we carry the old ways in our genes, or do they carry us on a wave of preconceptions?

Soundcloud recording here.

I Arrive

At the big box store I recognize
a wailing child–new to my eyes
and yet I’ve sung those notes,
tightly buckled in a cart, mother
engrossed and boggled so ignores
the tiny being’s outraged roars.
I pause to give my presence, meet
the tearful eyes, witness her hiccupped
surprise. We look. It’s clear
there’s nothing to be done
or said. We’re here. The gift
of my expanded space and her
receptive face. She’s heard.
I see she’s vital in this day-
light chance encounter. She
was frightened when compassion
found her. I hold her gaze.
They move away in sudden
silence. And now what guides us
is the warm regard that says
we are together, there’s no
alone, unheard, unseen; there’s
deep embracing presencing.
Her power recognized–she changed
my way! Alerting me to the web
and what’s in play
the echoes sing just underfoot
opening to the new input
we choose connection, we embrace
each other with true affection.
Arriving home, I put on paper
the steps that surely wake her.
I hear you. I see you.
Your heart is true.
Your voice is strong.
Nothing to say. Nothing to do.
We simply step as we belong.

Inspired by: Paper, Daylight, Vital, Boggle, an amazing course session in Conscious Healing, a crying child at the store and memories of my own cries (shown here, in the middle of unhappy brothers when I was six months old.)

Listen on soundcloud here.

To Be Clear

To be clear, I am far from stating that the material world does not exist.  Rather, I propose that what we think of as the real world is a holographic consciousness construct that–in all ways at all times–is subject to modification by our consciousness (or unconsciousness) of it.~Potentiate Your DNA, p. 70, Sol Luckman.

To be clear, I corroborate
starry-studded hope. The great
scheme permits a shift
deteriorates these rubber
stamps that once defined
a quirky campaign purely
designed to control us,
shut our inspiration down
before it’s found.
Wait.
That’s opaque.
Words lead
astray. Our hearts
know truth when we can
sit aground, intuit,
follow every trigger
to its source as a matter
of course. Everything changes.
The bigger gift appears
inside the rift
of our exchanges.
Mumbo-jumbo yet again.
Bafflegab gobbledygook.
In essence, I applaud your juju
all the power flowing through you
transmutes the lies
and obfuscations
into clear sight, wordless
roots of transformation.

Inspired by:  Permit, Rubber, HopeShut, CorroborateCampaign, Scheme, Quirk. and Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt to start my post with the first three words of the first full sentence of the book closest to me when I sit down to write.  (That sentence is the quote at the beginning.)  I was overambitious today, trying to use all of the past two days prompt words in this stream of consciousness post.  Braving my inner critic to hit publish even though it does appear to be mumbo jumbo.  Creativity needs to be released.  So be it.

Soundcloud recording here.

Girl Power!

We cease our labor, dive
into that fling your arms
around joy when you get
gotten. Fire uncovered
under pastel pretties,
our blaze begotten,
we discover girl power!
The musical beings we are
empower each other beyond
the scoffing provable hypotheses.
Doffing those scientific hats
we’re up to bat.
They doubt what we know
bound to their blinders
saying what’s so with
constant reminders of
facts they’ve learned in books.
We take a look and see
they’ve forgotten their experiments
need them, spirit-
less evidence decreed
crystals are just rocks,
for the lack of a voice box.
Soured by their lack of magic,
and even though that’s tragic,
we slide around their tricky
doubts, weaving our knowing
through their stance
without a single glance
to see if they’ll follow.
Listen: I’m a warrior for
sentience, it’s all stardust
wherever you are. Sitting criss-
cross applesauce with younglings
we discover how to run
rings around the stagnant
places. We do fun things:
offer handmade impossible
treats, our pizza flavors:
blueberry love
is our favorite. Singing
the new grove as we co-
create reality with no limits.
In harmony we offer
our hearts: just try one bite,
you’ll see just how we be.

Inspired by: Discover, Labor, Musical, Pastel and a visit with lovely grandnieces.

Recording on soundcloud here.

The Time Is Now

The calendar of days marching
you lockstep,
triumphal arch
built by minutes–you’re stuck in it–
you schlep,
guided by those ticking hands,
a creature clocked
in some belated way
you understand.

I’m asking you to sit
outside of time
I invoke the higher powers
dazzle you with rhyme
that doesn’t fit
into the scheme
yet flourishes inside
your vivid dreams.

This address we inhabit
our unique code
is as flexible as agate
–say it isn’t so,
say that a stone
holds clear and deep
in a way we can’t perceive
much less believe.
Much like the trees or
any other matter
that bes.

With just one word, we stop short.
It jars us
from the normal retort.
We open now,
where we’re contracted
frightened by the ones
we call bad actors.
Expanding here
our breath the start
allowing what emerges
heart to heart.

Inspired by: Invoke, Address, Flourish and Belated. And that bright full moon this morning (12/12) at 12:12 (which led me to think about all the constraints of time!) And a magical conversation with Erin Heart Woman.

Soundcloud recording here.