Beyond The Pale

I’ve tried to rhyme all morning, stuck inside
the dissonance of the false narrative
absurd, repetitive brushwork, a glide
of gilded paint obscuring rooted truth.

I have no tolerance to mask symptoms.
The germ theory death knell’s one big lie.  I’ll 
never buy Rockefeller’s Pharma scheme—
sell byproducts of petroleum.  Spread

wide and sinking deep, I’ll not inject more
toxins into my veins.  Fraud can’t sustain
in thinking people, but logic’s not taught
these days.  We’re walking in a purchased haze,

we sign the unseen contracts that belie
reality.  Compose a eulogy 
to fury, that old flame doused by the car-
tels’ ruthless power game.  You’ll rise again.

Inspired by: Sustain, Fury, Belie and Eulogy.

New Moon, New Seeds

Love is everywhere. It protects the very heart of our beings. So it’s all right. Everything’s all right and always has been.~Jane Roberts

We’re trained from birth, our very words
that’s bad, that’s good, we cling, survival

seems impossible from our arrival
we gasp in poisoned air, injected

when we least expect it in a crazy
world where toxins are called medicine

we must endure misguided doctors’
incessant quackery studying separate

cells to proclaim a discovery, another
name to cloak the reaction

to the putrefaction of air and soil
and drinking water, full-scale slaughter

in the name of greed and promulgated
by the fear-porn screed.

We sit alone, we’re trained, perceive no choice
lower our voice, and even so the angry

sons shun their insane mothers
all dialogue blocked with dangerous others

the truth a sauce our diets now
prohibit, our only eyes for lies

as they exhibit the visual clues
of this unhealthy news and yet

if we can set aside our certainty
that harm is looming, dooming, carelessly

and simply quiet, presto, the tempo changes
the heart of the matter rearranges

the score and more, we realize
the love nature displays, miracles

every day in every moment we connect
to source, we laugh, we hug,

we understand, of course,
there may be malice withal

there is a greater force.
We plant the seeds, we open hearts, we call.

 

Everything was all right, always had been all right, it had only been their own anxieties and doubts that ever made it all seem wrong. They were all couched and safe, forever secure, forever jubilant at the heart of their own beings. There was never anything to be afraid of, if only they trusted the great sweet security that forever held the vitality of their beings, for they were all truly splendid, a part of a loving universe that cradled them forever in a safety and love literally beyond all comprehension.~Jane Roberts

Fierce Narrative Shift

The hidden costs now fully leaved
and we can choose to believe

hundreds of thousands of years
life brimming close and vital

feeding each other with love survival
plain, we’re here, what changed

is only story. The one is the glory
and praise, divine nature’s call

here in my instrument I set my intent
if there’s one thing sweeping the globe

it’s control by fear, and I won’t host it here.
Every traumatized fragment will arise

that happens when you’re hypnotized
awake I commit to my song, to speak

when I perceive the wrong, embrace
the hidden places clamoring to steer

upon the rocks of misguided fear.
one thing to praise and love

awakens my desire to be a force
the divine law the source

outside we stride into the light
know in our hearts what is right

I’m here for this. Essential me. Please
add your voice in this time to rejoice.

 

It’s Turtles All The Way

In yesterday’s imbalanced waking
parch overwhelmed me. Today
I determine to soothe

water and grounding these indignant
filaments writhing and buzzing
from the past’s unintegrated

barrage. I sit and extract
my personal fear, empowered
to heal myself, my family,

my lineage, society, the planet
the universe and more.
Time and distance constructs

—the illusion of separation—
dissolve, tumble like a child’s
castle made of blocks.

We build beliefs in our jangled
misperception of danger,
forget to knock them down

laughing and certain
of our power to create anew.
I tune in to what is

as all the ripples of my intention
create balance
here in the present

where I, a self-healing miracle
of love, resonate
a heartbeat, breath

infused in everything that matters
which is all, which is one,
awakening and taking the step now.

 

Love’s Warrior

I could light the night up with my soul on fire
I could make the sun shine from pure desire
Let me feel that love come over me
Let me feel how strong it could be
Bring me a higher love~Steve Winwood

It plays out
a silly drama designed to trigger
that frightened child’s trauma.
When she arises
I look with friendly eyes.
Warm welcome! I hereby call
this difficulty blessing, fall
with humility and clearly state
my intention to dispense with hate,
manifest a higher love
as I connect to the divine
above like light streaming
no longer in the mainstream
dreaming how, for
in the simple truth of now
releasing fear, I bring myself
heartfelt, on fire, here I dwell.

 

Unwrapping Gifts

My childhood trauma happens for me every time I get scared.  It may not mean what is “happening now” has anything to do with it.~Thomas Huebl

Far from the knife-wielding surgeon poised
to cut off what is

inflamed, named culprit
I sit

contemplate my unblemished limbs
praise the organs who whisper

long before a calamity.
All the places I call difficult

malady
teach me, reflect impeccable

wisdom of integration
what is ethical

Once I boycotted patriarchal
tyranny, the warrior’s way:

exclude and shun
others who caused me pain.

Trigger my shadows today
and where I used to run away

impugn as toxic, assign blame,
wallow in shame

now I stay.
Untangle what is mine

from what I’ve carried
all this trauma long buried.

Here I am and I confess
I bring each trouble wrapped

as tightly as I held myself
once certain in my solitude

I would not be met.
Innocence skewed

yet light reveals Intelligence
bounces and deflects away

from darkness I’m willing to display
unknowing, caught dumb

and wide-eyed in your patient
loving gaze, held in a different way.

Intent, committed to evolve,
this portion of the troubled planet

only I can solve
here with you, no longer stranded

 

Is This Love I’m Feeling?

now
our time has come and we must

act, coherent in heart space
deep integrity, clarity and simple
truth. We release the official
story-lies to open wide our

curious and loving eyes.
One word, one song, one prayer
one step, one act. Do you dare
to embrace the shadows never faced?

 

Any opening

Here I am, to save the day!
Does my radiant smile sway?
Did I interrupt your terror
engine? You defend error
hands off when I get precise

and stand in question. Advice:
dig in the dirt to expose the roots
and the house of cards lets loose
shifting precarious
appearing nefarious.

My metaphors are bouncing
in your dissonance, trouncing
the diffidence. I aim
for any opening. No game.
Stress kills. Our coping

mechanisms with a daily onslaught
induce injury in ways that ought
not happen when we
embrace collectively.
Come on outside, let’s play.

The nightmare recedes in the day
light of our awakening.
The eggshells of our former lives
are breaking. All around
there is the new sound.

 

Inspired by: Bounce, Precise, Engine, Hands and Radiant.

And this article by Sol Luckman (don’t miss the eye-opening video by Dr. Andrew Kaufman.)

Come Awake Love

if we look
with kindness on all creations–
to the one in the mirror, say,
hey, I love you with every molecule
of space, in every twist of time,
with passionate ignited soul

I love you like the breath that
refuses sleep. Come awake, come awake
love. And in this predawn opening gambit:
sacrifice sleep now. Insight-

seeds land where I’ve been weeding
every morning, diligent
respect. Whispering as I expose
each deep root, thank you, for
saving a different me. Bask in the light
that always comes after darkness has scoured
forbidden places with its pitiless claws.

 

No Wealth To The Singer

Oscar Wilde wrote, “The best work in literature is always done by those who do not depend on it for their daily bread and the highest form of literature, Poetry, brings no wealth to the singer.”

Which is quite the relief, I have nothing
to lose, my stentorian voice is not tied
to a paycheck or any kind of recompense.
I don’t pay dues, I’m not allied
to a patron, my scope’s immense.
My site’s free, every word
is a gift adrift.
If there’s no wealth, why do I sing?
There is sheer joy in being free.
Oh, there’s despair, a grief
constrains my breath. Always
the death of hopes confected
in the sweetmeats of childish
tales, songs I composed to
keep sanity in the throes.
High and dry I’ve somehow escaped
the moorings of the mainstream
daydream anchored afloat
in the moat circling
the plutocratic castle, all
the facile vassals limp and blind.
The current keeps them dazzled.
I don’t mind, don’t take refuge
in a twisted pride, misguided.
The system’s broke,
not me. I sink roots deep,
mindful of the company I keep.
Letting go of the shackling
beliefs: it’s too late to tackle,
the rot has gone too deep.
I admit, I’ve been asleep.
Waking now to shout: my choice
is here. I add my voice.
Every being arrives with a song.
We open and we claim: we belong.

 

Inspired by: Daydream, Stentorian, Afloat, Pride and Caitlin Johnstone’s question today, “We are collectively being asked a question here, and our answer to that question will determine the entire course we will take as a species.”