Big Deal

For E and M

I’ve been holding my cards close to my chest.
Now for the big reveal. A royal flush,
I take the pot. My winning hand’s the best.
A victory dance. Yon player’s chance brush

with so much luck is incendiary.
You can’t wait to play again. We all win.
The door’s now open; don’t tarry. Marry
me, my dear darling. Let the games begin.

A diamond is crucial. I dig you in
spades. We create a new club full of heart.
All the copies dissolve. Above the din
our real resolve. New deal, love, let’s start.

Soundcloud recording here.

Only the luck of the draw can explain this one. Inspired by: Copy, Flush, Crucial and this marvelous end of November full moon (featured image.)

I see I am the Light

“Who will save your soul, if you won’t save your own?”~Jewel

Addicted to inks, I follow the flow
with supplies to illuminate these maps
of the terrain I’ve encountered so far.
Still it is best to create your own. Traps

say we are rising in groups filled with grace
to levitate above ego-driven
constructs; old edifices weave bold-faced
lies no more. I’m not a herd person. When

I see the light, a modicum of sense
insists we enter now alone. Brace, heart,
your new insight lifts you into love, whence
you come. Don’t look back. The ripples you start

flinging yourself into living waters
create new realities you may not
perceive until the veils are lifted. First
help yourself, then receive all you’ve long sought.

Inspired by: Weaves, Modicum and Levitate.

This white swan on the river signifies the presence of angels all around you, offering the exact wisdom you need precisely now.

Grey Turns To Blue

Each face swimming into my hereness
calls and texts or in the shunned connections
blessings in this misty morning nearness
the grey thick air devours reflections
of vivid vistas. Yesterday’s clearness
disappears. Here a cold wet inspection
alleviates misperceptions, makes light
of falsely perceived rejection haze-bright.

The fractal I create illuminates
all of my lessons soaking in presence.
When we touch I embrace, elucidate
the wounded patterns in my face.  Essence
of evolution, intuitive gates
open the paradigm’s obsolescence.
Hear my growl deep in the woods.  Rain-fog gifts
are love, a sending as the timelines shift.

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by: Grey turns to blue, Alleviate, Devour, Vivid, Growl and the OctPoWriMo Day 22 prompt to follow your gut feelings in an Ottava Rima.

No Rhyme In Rejection

The nature of trauma is that it is unconscious; something frightened or disturbed us enough so that we did not want to experience it. We shut down, we froze, we acted out, we ran. We did not make sense of the experience and file it away, we threw it out of consciousness.~Tian Dayton

I reject the swamp of my birthplace, call
and finagle love by the sea. Far from
my roots, play the gargoyle–mysterious 
pagan goddess adorning cathedrals—

spiked-head cautionary tale.  I’m trying 
to make these words sensible.  My lineage
settles for mosquito-infested land
losing sight of possibility, hard

survival hunkers down even though just
a few miles up the road is paradise.
I reject my habitude.  Centuries 
of unprocessed trauma rise.  The shoreline

fraught, I pause in fear anticipating 
the shock of change, cold slap of moving sea
and I must leap, reject the quandary.
Relentless tide brings what lies beneath the 

surface, the deep places pain claims surge 
like a riptide, insisting I dive deep
release the illusions to dry crumbling
on sand.  Shivering, wet, now I accept. 

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by: Swamp, Gargoyle, Finagle, Habitude, the OctPoWriMo Day 20 prompt “touch”, and a vivid memory of exhausted swimming in a riptide in Lima.

Elucidation

Ah, don’t turn away 
this garrulous sky and I
cacophony honking
gaggle of geese
startled by swallows
moving in and out of waves
of sound or thoughts 
winging diaphonous. 
As leaves listen greenly
delicate clouds blush.
The veils dissolve
outside in thresholds
I bring the light.
My secret messages
cannot be read–
perhaps eaten or smoked
like magic or a cosmic joke.
Who seeks my energy,
so fine and fierce 
alas to no avail?
My sacred vessel has no door
opening
the way unfettered
out of your range,
here I am unreachable
uncaged.

Inspired by Catrin Welz-Stein’s marvelous piece Summer-Dreaming. Check out the gallery of amazing artwork for some great inspiration.

Exchanging Our Essence

The present moment is filled with joy and happiness. If you are attentive, you will see it. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh

Doleful and irate in mainstream-mangled
illusions, we’re taught separation. Breath
trades: you take in mine, gift yours, entangled
living beings pretending ghastly death,

children at play, imagination strong.
Today we heed the timely call of past
into the light. Exchanging air so long
we have forgotten we are fractals tasked

to circulate our stream. We dream rescue,
seek heroes, put on masks and hoard our flow,
the very way to block our powers true.
Awakened, we project, our breaths bestow

Inspired by: Doleful, Timely, Entangle and Ruminate.

All The World’s A Stage

The West symbolizes the moving of ignorance to wisdom. Sometimes called the “little death”, West asks us to put away our childish ways and evolve to become our most sage ‘self’.~Spirit Animals.

With all this din, suppose you get a word
in, a zephyr wind exposing terrain
hidden in plain sight, an insistent bird
in leafy branches.  Evidence you’re sane

when suddenly exposed:  the world’s a stage.
Did you forget?  Laugh at the cosmic joke
with people so lost in their roles, enraged
and triggered, spinning in somebody’s smoke

and mirrors.  Now see what the lights reveal—
—we blink, perplexed.  A moment’s pause and when
the theater is clear—the truth, what’s real.
Our hearts on fire, our souls take up the pen.

Inspired by: Suppose, Terrain, Din and Zephyr.

Purchasing Power

Brilliant light reveals our rusty cages.
We pause, aghast, exhausted dark fumbles
for a key.  Persnickety.  The sages
foretold our slavery.  Our rage rumbles

as the current lies sweep us, a great flux
we fight.  Chained junkyard dogs, one measly bone.
Driven inside, isolated.  The crux
is power.  As we step into our own,

the cruel elites’ imaginary
holds collapse.  Helpless and bespelled, did we
pay for our own misery?  Energy
reclaimed, create a new cosmology.

Inspired by: Persnickety, Flux, Exhausted and Cage.

How To Spell Sanctuary

In the morning, tears flood the gates, spill slow
fat trickles I dash away.  All is not
right in the world.  I host all I still know
in the only sanctuary I’ve got.

Overnight it seems things change.  Tolerance
for my constant singing—oh, the lyrics
that emerge unbidden, awesome breakdance
of joy—vanishes. Annoyed, my critics.

We long to be loved, adopt a pious
role—just look how good we are, surely
we deserve a drop of manna!  Fly us
to a heavenly place, bristle purely

righteous.  Despite obnoxious masterminding
blinding art’s true powers, create space
when grief arises. The gift is finding
lonely places just where we lost our way. 

Inspired by: Pious, Obnoxious, Awesome and Bristle and this photo which became the feature image collage with four different filters.

Imagine That!

Imagination is the often-forgotten force in the core of the human being. Our problems, at the core, exist only because we have “misplaced an infinity.”~Jon Rappoport*

Sharp September early wrapped in fleece
I remember waiting for the sun.  At peace,
eclectic ways to feel into

electric body riveting, pivoting
now, well met, fast-moving clouds!
My travail allows inspection

of the golden-gleamed horizon.
Sipping coffee slow and warm
my morning bluejays warn poignant

and pointed.  Even serenity
is a star poking into absurd
totalitarian measures.  I don’t partake.

That brand of Koolaid just tastes
fake.  I see the stain all around
your panicked eyes, gone: smiles or frowns.

Succumb and lose identity, masked
and frail, breath denied.  Sometimes
it seems a dream.  I thought there were many

more alive, but I see drones
apologetic and rueful, cowed,
reading posted rules.  Now what’s allowed?

I remember waiting for the light
in months like these.  Now I simply bring
myself, sovereign alive sparking love

and curiosity.  There’s no masked
stranger staring in my mirror. Look at me
model how common sense

walks the world.  Freely breathe.
I don’t always have to rhyme.
Sun now appears and I step out of time.

Inspired by: Serenity, Riveting, Eclectic, Travail and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt Sharp and Exit From The Matrix*, a life-changing imagination course by Jon Rappoport that I highly, highly recommend.