The Life I Make

We make ropes with all aspects of the creation in this way.*~a San Bushman

An infant’s entrainment at arrival
roped in by our own fierce focused survival.
Enmeshed in the sticky web, strive to learn
the ways and words through which our passions burn

to freedom. But kept apart, breath controlled,
smiles masked, we settle into growing old.
Bones crepitate and presbyopia
grim labels our self-made dystopia

And then we die.

It’s all a lie.
I wake
and shake the remnants of my yoke. I break
the spell that I have woven and I claim
the power to live my vibrant selfsame

outside, barefoot and grounding, sounding tones
alert for birdsongs, tiny glinting stones
breezy caress and kiss of sun. Behind
the boxes and the screens unplugged unbind.

Inspired by: Apart, Crepitate, Presbyopia and Enmesh.

Full quote from What The Robin Knows, “If one day I see a small bird and recognize it, a thin thread will form between me and that bird. If I just see it and don’t really recognize it, there is no thin thread. If I go out tomorrow and see and recognize that same small bird again, the thread will thicken and strengthen just a little. Every time I see and recognize that bird, the thread strengthens. Eventually it will grow into a string, then a cord, and finally a rope. This is what it means to be a Bushman. We make ropes with all aspects of the creation in this way.

Featured image: The house finch sings sweet thank yous at my feeder.

You Gotta Move

The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.~Alan Watts

Person A triple-masked and triple-vaxxed
needing to comply, willing to be taxed.
Person B is down the rabbit hole; pops
up in alarm. New ledes, new tracks, dead stops

that fuel the armageddon line C holds.
Woodpecker flies in cautious, quick and bold.
I focus on my beating heart, I breathe,
release the crumbling old. Creative, seethe

fleeced by the state no more, those rules are moot.
My share of digging galore, exposed roots
diseased and withered, easily dismissed.
Dive into now’s bright current, soundly kissed.

Inspired by: Moot, Fleece, Galore and State.

Featured image: A barefoot dance with my niece. I wish joyful barefoot dancing to you today!


FUD*

She said, pay attention to birds, they’re sent
with messages you should explore. Foment
is fueled when focus feeds the fires of fools.
I had to switch wild bird food, starlings ruled

a frenzied flock of greed seized shelled seeds.
This morning, they fly in then out. No need
to crack shells, extract value maximal
convert to calories inflammable.

Yesterday watching spectacular shows
the cackling grackles, suet on poles
summoned woodpeckers, cardinals, sparrows
and jays. Finches, nuthatches like arrows

they aimed to delight. Big birds devoured
supplies. I change offerings, empowered
to feed with discernment. When they alight
today, pick through my menu, then take flight

just so as fear, uncertainty and doubts
clamor to be fed, heckle and shout,
I take a breath and clear the skies, emptied
let peace descend before I sow new seed.

Inspired by: Pole, Inflammable, Explore and Maximal.

*In crypto lingo, FUD means fear, uncertainty and doubt. Right now we’re in Extreme Fear.

Featured photo: These greedy starlings and the murmuration that came after them cleaned out everything, leaving nothing for the tiny native birds.

It’s About Values

Our bodies mirror the universe, down to the working of each cell. Study the micro and you’ll find the macro reflected in it…if we study ourselves thoroughly, we may just find the design of the universe reflected in us.~Itzhak Bentov

Fall back in love with life! Switch your focus to see and go through openings, work around obstacles, adjust to the quickly changing morphic field. Evolve the will, balance with the frequency to override all the new world order’s narratives.~Laura Walker

The screens in their zenith implore me to
stew in the unfathomable deep blues
posted by indefatigable fans
upset by what is wrong out there, demands

to disdain breath, comply, to look without
seductive siren call with so much clout.
How do you look away from fear porn’s pose?
Unplugged, I feel the grief as the old goes

crumbling, each artifact exposed, cries
rejection separates it’s no surprise
time’s trickery hides our great history.
Focus now to open life’s mysteries.

Resolved to fall in love just as a hawk
arrives and all the small birds flee and squawk.
I keep the feeders filled, cultivate mind.
Destroying the old paradigms is kind.

Inspired by: Unfathomable, Zenith, Disdain and Indefatigable.

Featured image: I keep falling in love with bluebird visitors.

How I Miss You

A dove may show up when hard times are ending, and a new understanding of one’s self is emerging. ~Rose

In this construct referred to as time
and the illusory separation-dream
we slip through gaps and slither
in the continental divide, driving
it twice today and sending
unfathomed blessings all through the being
the sign delineates.

It is too costly to focus
on the screens. I worth
I value I currency
the most creative power in the world
can see and you suggest
I pay to–what, sit through drivel?

Unplug, unplug. Know the electric drug
changes you deep within

Don’t touch!

The dissonance tries to weave
a stranglehold when breath
when breathing
free
clean air
exactly what I need.

Constrictions I heed
balance delicate to achieve
especially in this time of upheaval.

I have made no secret:
I love you true.
Through the ages and today
I’ve been reading poems about you
and the things we would do
and my heartful of love
doesn’t understand why
we create this illusion
of separation. I’m releasing

these restraints. Time and I
work together. We can tell
each other anything
but why
when being now we give
and we receive every signal
and intentionally create this new world.

My Darling Starling

Starlings act as indicators that no matter how dark and challenging things may be, we are never alone.~Richard Alois

Resolved to evolve–which I feel may solve
my searchlight for love around and above–
old thoughts thinking me stink, a harbinger
of the brink. Danger slinks, acknowledge her

I dissent and worse, I don’t buy in, sin
against my inner knowing. If the world
should falter, will I buy the dip? Oughta
place my bets, gain when queer fears blip, outstrip

logic and common sense. There’s no defense
for duality is a pretense, fails
like all the other jails when we break free
and see our unique piece what the world needs.

Inspired by: Harbinger, Light, Dissent and writing by the Saturday Stream of Consciousness rules for the prompt Resolve. I never cease to marvel at the weird places the SOCS prompt takes me.

Antiquated Notions

You can’t get someone to see what their trauma won’t allow them to see.~Kelly Brogan

She advises compassion for triggered
beings of light caught in worry’s snigger
so here in my palace, my sovereign rule
is to claim without hesitation fools

who dwell in the deep shadows, casting doubt
reticent whispers more deadly than shouts.
In my prized solitude here I hold court
investigate the fairytales that thwart

my commitments and funnel my focus
down rabbit holes where want-to-know hocus
holds sway. Today, I say, it’s only words.
I settle deep and watch these fluttering birds.

Inspired by: Palace, Worry, Hesitation and Reticent.

Sailors, Take Warning

Red sky at morning, a fleeting warning
just as I see my wealth is aborning
if only, my coach exhorts, comfort zone
abort. I’m content where I abide, home

at last, solitude the gift I treasure
back in my wanton body, feel pleasure
where the narrative can’t encroach I sing
reality without reproach. Poise rings

with tuning forks. My feathered friends rely
on my largesse, teach me the sky. They fly
into the city wilderness. Sun’s touch
caresses as I loosen beliefs’ clutch.

Inspired by: Wanton, Encroach, Content and Abide.

Hey, Frost This

Incredibly smart and focused, they don’t tolerate nonsense.  If you are working with Blue Jays, you may have to call out what you see—even if doing so upsets or annoys others—making sure your voice is heard.~Bernadette King

Alone at home, I frost neck, fingers, steal
glances in the mirror, flaunt facets, feel
the layers of these heirloom stones easing
the ancient weight of grief. Woman-pleasing

now focused on me. The prototype
malfunctioned; I begin again, touch-type
the story where I star–a super
hero breaking through accultured stupor

choosing the qualities I embody
shedding snake-like lies shoddy and gaudy
instilled into my crystal bones. I see
I’m malleable light. I create me.

Inspired by: Flaunt, Malfunction, Prototype and Frost. (Yes, spellcheck, I made up a word. Poets can do that.)

Featured images: a gorgeous bluejay came calling.

Title from that scene in How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days.

Call Me Bad-Ass

The woodpecker knocks at our awareness. Are you opening that door?~Bernadette King

I’m lonely and I’m sad and that is fine.
Up before the rise of sun, starry-eyed
and resolute. The planets finally
are turning, constellations cages free

the untamed beast, enraged, suppressed no more
lays waste to good and bad, explores the core.
I’m speaking out, imagination wild
with each pen stroke freeing the inner child

to wail and flail as clear-eyed I can spot
discomfort and allow: perfect I’m not.
My self-esteem and my self-worth are clay.
I start to play, invest in me today.

My currency tied to a wealth amassed
in lucid dreams–and not at all half-assed.
It’s 5:55. I take the leap. Taboos
against the blues, this phase of loss in view.

Inspired by spot, loss, phase, and featured image, the woodpecker who announced herself between bites.