Riding The Storm Out

I’ve been thinking lately of what I’m missing from the city…and I’m not missing a thing.~G. Richrath

After the storm when humans realize
the masked drones posing beside them disguised
by propaganda lies comprise robots,
will we give thanks and rise, see through the plots

to capsize sovereignty? A futile game
when we breathe constantly and free, aflame
creativity. Talking-head TV
suave and bizarre grill adjuncts so gently

“the experts say” nonsensical homilies
bleat in their religious quackery
“it’s science” the new cult idiocy.
After the storm, will humans learn to see?

Inspired by: Suave, Thanks, Grill, Adjunct and the OctPoWriMo prompt After The Storm.

The Worst Sort

Bad laws are the worst sort of tyranny.~Edmund Burke

It’s 66, the grass a brilliant green,
the mulch freshly applied, house-showing clean.
These lists gripping to-do intensity.
Flood warning mirrors sheer immensity

inside out. I ground in the dark vastness
before dawn. Morning practice steadfastness.
Remember to breathe. Seething in fervent
need: fresh air, big sky, lake-side observant.

The years of sickness forged humility.
Honoring my vessel, tranquility
essential. Every boundary ingrained
through chaos, snark, dissonance’s disdain.

Each change invisible. I look the same.
Healing under the surface, no acclaim.
Now I stand strong watching the world aflame
as tyrants ravage health, a cruel game.

Inspired by: Fervent, Vessel, Gripping, Forge and the OctPoWriMo Day 7 theme Balance/Sweet Spot.

Written for every person I know who has received a jab and is now experiencing a totally coincidental health decline.

Featured photo: A great egret flashed white in the murky morning.

The Unknown Universe

My aim is to bankrupt your semantic hope chests, and empty the coffers of your pipe dreams so readily provided by culture.~Joseph Chilton Pearce

Like throwing cash to the wind, we spend time
splitting hairs, unaware of our wealth. Crime
to be trained with cryptic tales not to see
reality. We offer energy

obedient slaves to a narrative
that disempowers. It’s imperative
we focus beyond insuperable
obstacles. Life is maneuverable

when we disbelieve facts everyone knows.
All of these weighty possessions let go
and move finally free, a cup emptied
of false knowledge instilled by fear and greed.

Inspired by: Splitting hairs, Cryptic and Insuperable.

Featured image: Sunset illusions in my beloved lake.

I’m Here When You Wake

There is no excuse for indifference and cowardice when it comes down to one’s own life and freedom. There is no excuse at all!~Gary D. Barnett

The equinox 22 advice–be strong
have faith–arrives with a string of fives, long
day ahead in gray chill with miracles
if you believe angelic oracles

I use the tools that appear. The field’s clear
responsive when I wake or dream. Here
society’s vestiges seem like ghosts.
Their messages haunt the wealthy whose boasts

fade now they shun lethal boutiques where
air–somehow transformed, can harbor hosts vile
carriers. They shudder in dissonance
blasting blame outward, find no resonance.

Unanchored, numb, they drift upon my shore.
I offer empathy, compassion’s door
open even when inevitably
they focus all their shame and dread on me.

I walk the sovereign path, now sparkling,
know that I’m an electric being.
Grounded and tuning with each breath, I stand
in my integrity hold out my hand.

Inspired by: Boutique, Lethal, Sparkling, Vestige, the fall equinox, and a weather forecast of 55 all day long.

Featured image: An eagle fishing just off “my” shore. How I’ll miss this treasured lake life!


Someone’s been telling you stories, and they just ain’t true. They just ain’t true.~Dan Fogelberg

As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.~Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis

When the narrative shifted kafkaesque
and showing my face meant I was undressed
and herded sheep signaled social distress
behind masks unspeaking, I must confess

melancholy as the chasm revealed
those fearful in illogical minefields.
Sovereign, my freedom rippling, I’m a stone
in murky waters. I will not be owned.

The gallery of cosseted in deep
depending on a salary to keep
a lifestyle dissonant destroying souls
scurrying under leaky roofs. The holes

and gaps too numerous to count. When will
they cease their bailing, and discount the shill?
Wake up and seize their freedom? Bitter pill
ground underneath their heel? A simple thrill

creating a new story quite unique
raising this voice, recalling how to speak
and breathe, a lion rising from the sheep
proud and grounded, no longer fast asleep.

Inspired by: Kafkaesque, Gallery, Melancholy and Cosset. And this article about being a lion.

Featured images: This hawk came to visit and then allowed me to photograph her flying away.


Look Up

Fearless balancing over the chasm
curious, steadfast, quashing sarcasm
and all the victim songs I’ve sung so well
they’ve cocooned my perceptions. Where I dwell

this sacred vessel poised here in this now
that opens wide and deep when I can bow
unfettered by possessions. I am free
to move across these bridges I can’t see.

Obscured by lies broadcasted dissonance
fear and stress are bound to imprison us.
Look up, turn off the screens, reality’s
quite different from the vaunt digitally.

Inspired by: Steadfast, Fearless, Digitally and Vaunt.

The Foundation is Rotten

People should think things out fresh and not just accept conventional terms and the conventional way of doing things.~R. Buckminster Fuller

You ask me to label my beliefs, quick
and simple. I look beneath. I’ve been sick,
stuck in differential diagnosis
fed by Big Pharma psychosis

so I dig deep. I’ve got the stones to speak
of false premises, germ theory critique.
I know my body, respect the terrain.
When symptoms arise, toxins are to blame.

Keep It Simple, Stupid, Occam’s Razor
shines through fictive narratives, a laser.
Believe disease is everywhere: insane
focus poor symptoms for drug profits’ gain.

It’s come to this. I didn’t take the leap
to some imaginary place asleep,
restraining my breath, injected by slush
amalgamates of poisons bound to rush

past all body’s defenses, breaking down
in ways too horrible to think. You frown
and call me quirky, justify the lack
of evidence: it’s science. You’re highjacked

by stress from dissonance. Intuition
will break the spell. Just be still and listen.
Turn off the feed. Observe awake creatures.
Focus and find nourishment in nature.

Inspired by: Poor, Stone, Quirky and Intuitive.

Also inspired by What Really Makes You Ill?: Why Everything You Thought You Knew About Disease Is Wrong by Dawn Lister, and the daily exposés by the investigative reporter Jon Rappoport at NoMoreFakeNews.com.

I Cannot Safely

Imagine, if you can, a better way
and if you can’t, try harder!  Once today
is over and you’re deeper in the trap
action’s oppressed and there’s no going back.

Caught in a fairy tale, a despot’s dream
accepting lies as currency.  It seems
au faite, the only way, compliance begs
the gullible to feast on bitter dregs.

This grief as I move among sheep. I’d thought
the world populated by humans, not
these bit players eager for their roles, paid
to lie and money’s scarce.  Faces erased.

I cannot safely wear a mask.  And I
can see, this is the first of hoops to leap.
In my full sovereignty, none of the rules
for automatons apply.  I’m not a fool.

You see my sacred vessel?  I live here.
You think it rare and odd, report with fear
my free progress as I hold space—for you.
You cannot see it, dangerous looks true

and war is peace and fear is love.  You hide
behind a mask.  Your freedom is the price.

Inspired by: Action.

Featured image reminds me that every word, thought and action creates a ripple in our connected field.

New Earth Portfolio

even as the bluejay warns, spine tingles
a beast barks, exhausted senses mingle
heavy in the magnetic force down dog
solar plexus aimed at earth clears fog

the poisons writhe thick upon sweet air i’m
the canary in the mine, see what’s there: crime
against our moral ground been here before
a spiritual war my sovereign core

perceives the matrix glitch this déjà vu
rises ancestral trauma ringing through
manipulated stories stupefy
i do not pay attention and–surprise

reclaim my energy. My focus buys
love, give and receive the wealth in the skies
on sacred ground, through fire and water, mint
intentional, creative investment.

Inspired by: Magnet, Stupefy, Plexus and Déjà vu.

Featured image: Lilypods succumbing to a poison warned me to flee, not before I got a lungful.

Portal To Change

Whether you need to adapt, see things differently, gain some poise to navigate a tricky situation, or raise your vibration to release negative energies that are holding you back, dragonfly energy can help.

With first light, the guardian of the change
halts my impetuous flight. Interchange
clearly marked in a language so ancient
it quiets the gregarious plainchant

culture uses to subdue my nature.
My resignation lifts. Nomenclature
insists to order we submit, shuts doors
counterfeits reality. So much more

through the cracks spirit messengers impart
illusion-breaking junctures. Through my art
I recommit my heart to now, align
my gut instincts. Stripped down and lean, divine.

Inspired by: Lean, Resignation, Gregarious and Impetuous.

Featured image: A black saddlebag skimmer who clung in exhaustion to the screen door this morning after having worshipped the false light all night. (Scientific nomenclature is Kingdom: Animalia, Phylum: Arthropoda, Class: Insecta, Order: Odonata, Family: Libellulidae, Genus: Tramea, Species: lacerata

(Note: the dragonfly stayed until I pressed publish and then flitted away.)