The Energy Release

Dedicated to the magical Eva

We practice the great art: embrace
what arises in our widest place.
In wordless zest we see
who takes the reins and drives
me through each shadowed face.
We relegate gregarious
inclinations to conflate
nefarious motives.
Whether she is eight or some past life,
ancestress or an archetype,
what matters
are these chains she holds.
We see her vigilance wary
yet her power to subsume–
all my personal space set
to devour.
Our container holds
witness on the beach
building multidimensional sand
castles in our reach.
We are here
to celebrate
as the light reveals the shackled,
shackler and more,
the very chains, the dungeon floor.
We peer through
the acrid smoke, the gasp
of rattled lungs. We find the one
who traces spirals on her
palms, while seeming bound.
The treasures found! As if
a stage, the script blocking
the exits and the entrances in time
locking it all
and still I’m circling
to meet myself at last.
The past survival story
of the wise witch in her
glory now.
The residues of pain
I count as gain.
Healing dances through the sleep-
less night, energy released
from places deep must find
the way. Obstructions melting.
I’ll be okay.

Inspired by: Zest, Gregarious, Conflate and Personal.

Soundcloud recording here.

I See, Have Seen, Will See

To all the disappearing and the disappeared.

In these days right before he
becomes unhinged, medicated

beyond distractions, now the side
effects come crashing in

the decrepit hovel he drags along
sheer weight of dread and

fear and curdled anger
leaking in places long

forgotten, out of sight,
all of the life juice

that longs to sparkle
held, concealed

the doctors up the dosage
talk amputation

Would an electrician say
the only way to brighten

this dim room is rip it
from its foundations?

The ancestors call, childhood
trauma drumbeats. Agony.

All of this not hearing
deliberate and focused:

don’t look here
don’t feel

In Star Wars films he watches
the Deathstar destroy a planet

and only those who know The Force
pause and grieve

just a momentary stumble, gasp,
hold the heart before the fight

resumes. Resistance the imperative.
While rooted in our only earth,

drinking the poisoned air,
breathing the toxic water

right before he becomes unhinged,
madness descends and we swear

we are here, watching the unnourished
limbs–ours–disappear.

Inspired by: Hovel, Brighten, Unhinged, Sparkle and the need to bear witness.

Listen on soundcloud.

We Are Whole

As an instrument, multidimensional,
incomprehensible, even insensible,
I play on your senses, dissonant.
I’m gregarious, wannabe hilarious.
It behooves me now to be a bit
fastidious, clearing the space
web stretching between us.

I’ve found it’s wiser to decipher
yeah, I sometimes speak in code,
don’t mean to goad
but as a child I had to layer
my dissent, to sound mysterious
to hide my serious task
I chose harmonious masks
(a fight was lethal
I needed peaceful.)

Learning how to be nicer
while simmering like lava
a volcano, gonna explode
the mother lode for a poet
pluggin’ in, my word guns loaded
spittin’ fire and complainin’
’cause what’s normal is weird
unnatural. Fragmented cultural
we hover, vultures staring hopefully
the food we see
poison seems to be
the only thing that we can eat.

And all the while you are happening
inside of me, pure energy.

What I most need to say is
I serve you.
You are the truth
coming into my face, fully embraced.
What life needs to heal
open and real. I finally feel
that myth of separation
mistaken fragmentation.
We are whole.
We are aglow.
Out of control.

Inspired by: Task, Fastidious and Decipher.  Freestylin’ this one to a beat called Okay. This is so much fun.  Really lovin’ my December task of spoken rhymes.

Soundcloud link: here.

White Men Keep Telling Me What To Do

“I do not like that man.  I must get to know him better.”~Abraham Lincoln
I
Their brand burns deep into my brain,
a forced filter to inform my knowing.

My life inscribed by words to the wise,
imbibing heady spirits they’ve poured

bypassing my heart. Seeing through glass
darkly with these prescripted eyes.

The lakeshore is vivid today only.
Golden-yellow gleams sun’s tribute.
Scarlet-orange carpets green.
Purple-mahogany deep drama.
Every tree a poem
deserving 1,000 new words.

No need to crowd
the lines of gawkers missing

by an hour because some bone-
head saving daylight sends

them into cubicle-cages
through the darkness

wealth-seekers know. Sliding
over my rough spots like butter

while I’m too tender to resist.
I absorb it, changed, make lists

of ways I can succeed. Until a friend
requests, tune in,

and suddenly I’m walking the devil’s
backbone and this is no place

for sleep. Every word I know a white
man’s barb into my flesh,

it only hurts when I begin
to pull away

and then, oh damn,
there is no easy way out.

II

Tree praise blazing
in the center of my
cultural lament.
It doesn’t fit.
Just like me
so glorious we stay.

Inspired by: List, Heady, Glass and Butter. and the Devil’s Backbone in Pine Hills Nature Preserve, a 100-foot-high stone ridge barely wide enough for the trail to cross.  (Photo courtesy of https://visitindiana.com/blog/index.php/2019/07/10/pine-hills-nature-preserve/)
Continue reading White Men Keep Telling Me What To Do

Past The Program

Four ducks swim past the point,
hens intent exploring

newly exposed land. Teals guard
both entrances to the bay, dismiss

me in this perfect calm, the tranquil
sky filled to capacity–what will be

the tipping point to start the storm?
My friends and I discuss hunger and

how we misread our bodies’ cues after
so many decades of television programming

addiction to sugar. Wistful for a child-
hood we never experienced. What if

our mothers hadn’t been sold a magical
formula superior to her milk? We long

for sweetness in the corrupt society
fed by distorted lies. We doubt our

super powers; everyone else seems so
much more qualified, selling their

patented knowledge. In his perfect camo
feathered along the fall grasses, one

mallard watches, capturing my attention
while the others dive hidden from view.

Just so I sit, my old
woman façade obscuring our descent

into the true depths of being
where we find each other, sweet-

hearts bursting essence strong
beyond the flimsy stories of separation.

Inspired by: Hunger, Capacity, Wistful and Corrupt.

Follow The Aah

What if nobody knows what’s
going on? Oh, we jump on any

soapbox, proclaiming our insights,
produce our plans to rectify

the wicked programmed fear
laid in place over suffering

generations. We hint darkly
of the deep state, or inner

cabals, alien confederations tightening
the nooses round our delicate

necks. Humanity teems over each
scrap of darkness projected

by unfettered greed. My awareness,
my attention, my imagination

sincere and unstoppable
the most precious resource

sought after, cajoled, seduced.
My very spine aligns

the priceless antenna
receiving sacred now.

I sit in this newfound
commitment moment to moment.

There is no other life,
no future gripped in the talons of

the past. Opening like a blossom
unfurling each perception

releasing the false narrative
with simple reflective breath.

Now commands every sense
as I arrive

letting go of time
and space and story.

Into the not-knowing
field of always available

–what is this–love?
a hummingbird comes to the screen

chittering, the poem listens
as I fill the feeder.

Inspired by: Scrap, Rectify, Wicked and Sincere.

Double Take

I think, therefore I am.~Rene Descartes.
In the stillness of my heart, I am.~Thomas Huebl

There are 10,000 thank yous
in my pliable heart today

spiraling in layers of waking,
calling me from the dreams.

It takes gumption to deny
the insidious cosmology

walking outside the rigid
boxes and Cartesian love

affair with the monkey mind.
When will science comprehend burps

signify the presence of ancestors,
that living trauma obstructs

our songs in the fields of
our being? When can we call a

dead stop to giggle
at duality, celebrate the belly

laugh that loosens the grip
of damnably right or humiliatingly

wrong? We become this mourning
dove surprised into flight

eye-catching, swirling air
across the lake. We recognize

each other. The plump and juicy
aloe plant vibrates the window.

We drip gratitude as we
breathe. The trees quiver.

Rocks hold deep programmable
space. Cicadas chirrup.

Light reaches into us all
in abundant, life-giving waves.

Inspired by: Giggle, Layer, Gumption and Pliable.