The Natural Truth

“Augmented reality is a layer wrapped around the physical world.”~Jo Scholz

I’m grounded, perspicacious and evolving
unorthodox ways devolving your beliefs
when reality’s a brand professional

you pay premium rate when you don’t create
you’re so money but say it’s just a hobby
I’m grounded, perspicacious and evolving

watch: modeling this soul-deep strength of being
though you turn away intuition still shows
unorthodox ways devolving your beliefs

the ones you absorb while impressionable
douse your wildfire creative genius powers
when reality’s a brand professional

Inspired by: Professional, Hobby, Unorthodox, Perspicacious and the OctPoWriMo Day 14 prompt Truth in a Cascade.

Entre chien et loup

In the darkness I awaken shadow
snoring alongside is the old black dog 
I’m watching.  I roll—time shifts and I know
this scene, waking from a dream I leapfrog

snoring alongside is the old black dog
alone, at twenty-three, my prayers invite
this scene, waking from a dream I leapfrog
to the eyes of this wise and cordial night

alone, at twenty-three, my prayers invite
phantasm stirring tandem streams of time
to the eyes of this wise and cordial night
sleepless, spooked, jarred by the interim, I’m

phantasm stirring tandem streams of time
embracing what I misconstrue and still
sleepless, spooked, jarred by the interim, I’m
the synchronicity revealing skill

embracing what I misconstrue and still
I’m watching.  I roll—time shifts and I know
the synchronicity revealing skill
this scene, waking from a dream I leapfrog

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by: Interim, Cordial, Tandem, Phantasm and the OctPoWriMo Day 13 prompt Outside the box (Chains, Freedom, Breakthrough, Open mind, Flight) in a new-to-me Pantoum.

Title is a French idiom, the literal translation of which, between dog and wolf, suggests the golden twilight hours when the unknown shape shifts reality.

Featured image is my shadow in flames.

This, by the way, is a True Story. A very weird happening at age 23 suddenly revealed, as timelines shift, and I deliver love messages to my emerging distraught shadows in the so-called past.

Translating Space

My grandson greets me gregarious
GRO CHAKA MEES HI-YO-TA
I answer in kind as we FaceTime
our fresh living language just wrote, ah.

His passion loosed, he starts a haka
fierce dances and chest pounding
As we FaceTime, I answer in kind
his mother can’t tape this astounding

abandoning rules and creating
BA JUNG-A-LO MA-ZUCKUS
I answer in kind as we FaceTime
the vitriol atrocious ruckus

and the pique we release in our play
stamping feet, rhythmic shouting
as we FaceTime, I answer in kind
then, laughing, throw kisses, undoubting.

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by: Pique, Ruckus, Atrocious, Vitriol and the OctPoWriMo Day 12 prompt, having fun in the process (Playful, Childlike, Silly) in the new-to-me Zanila Rhyme.

Integrating Shadows

when I swing the ring and hook it— clink—
I move into the flow a prism
of rainbows and unicorns  you blink

as deep intentional projecting
all these swallowed screams held obdurate
in my scarred heart now intersecting

timelines.  I reach back forgiving, glad
I’m here.  I’m living! Reinterpret
every brutal step. I touch old sad

seething. I’m a channel bridging realms 
unseen, a medium you consult 
*clink* til intuition steers your helms.

I manifest this way: integrate
shadows I’ve been struggling to awake.
Outbreath centered, flung, opens the gates.

another ring hooks solid rising
power effortless.  The universe
joins in, responsive synchronizing.

Inspired by: Prism, Scream, Obdurate, the Saturday Stream of Consciousness prompt medium and the OctPoWriMo Day 10 prompt letting go with forgiveness (as Tyburn or CinqTroisDecaLa or some weird way that arises.)

And this new-to-me game at which I excel.

Healing My Broken Heart

I’m serious as shit, dumbfounded by
the faces and the stories up for air
released from darkness I summon the light
how I respond with love to my own cry

especially at night the pris’ners fly
caught in a tale of mine—how could I care
traumatized child gasping for air, I left
to visit other realms, create new skies

and I was reckless, hurting, fantasized—
so if you met me while the onus held
my life’s mission of wound and heal and weld
your face awakes dreams, interrupts my nights

I’m serious as shit, dumbfounded by
the chances opening in tender space
how I respond with love to my own cry

Inspired by: Serious, Dumbfounded, Onus and the #OctPoWriMo Day 7 prompt Growing Pains (pain, growth, learning, finding yourself) in a Triolet or Villonet.

“Serious as shit” may be the strongest language a person with digestive issues can utter. I’m focused on huge wounds in my Elucidation and the healing is fierce!

New Opening

Your phenotype most prurient
attracted me so spurious
libido-led mercurious
You’re furious. You’re furious.

Study the past, you reappear 
expecting adulation, dear.
My energy so strong and clear
you disappear. You disappear.

My gaiety could drive you mad.
You call me cold, you say you’re sad.
You lay the lure, a pain nomad.
I forgive, glad. I forgive, glad.

The steps I take in true desire
highlight how bonds simply expire.
I shift, new portals now inspire
my dreams afire, my dreams afire.

The lessons that we’ve learned can blast
old loneliness trapped in the past.
Intentions crystal clear, at last:
love unsurpassed, love unsurpassed.

Inspired by: Gaiety, Phenotype, Study and #OctPoWriMo Day 6 prompt following desire (steps, desire, drive) in a Monotetra (which I modified a teeny bit).

Featured image taken Sunday on a drive in northern Indiana Amish country.

Million-Dollar Shot

Lyrian lightships like to slip by bedecked
black as shadows low horizon circumspect
in caricature of clouds no one believes
yet here they are.  From the back seat I perceive
their immensity, sliding across the sky.
When filters fade, imagination grows psi
as simple constructs of space and time collide
how I excel inventing creative rides.
This million-dollar image could change closed minds
encased in doubt about to be left behind.
Lyrian lightships like to slip by bedecked
black as shadows low horizon circumspect.

In caricature of clouds no one believes
yet here they are.  From the back seat I perceive
their sheer audacity, mid-afternoon flaunt
cartwheeling over an anthill, nonchalant.
Secure that we won’t look?  Or is this invite
to drop into joyful play a sheer delight? 
No one will stop the car, so a fast shutter
speed is my recourse, click, click, click. I utter
my surprise, the white clouds puff and play along
It’s difficult to hide ships so dark and long.
Lyrian lightships like to slip by bedecked
black as shadows low horizon circumspect

Their immensity, sliding across the sky!
When filters fade, imagination grows psi
that swirls beneath what we insist must be real
–although handled children are taught: never feel
and sense in unknown ways that we created–
our visions shaped in rivalry, frustrated
Look up, children, at last the paranormal
sky-messengers are the tip of what’s normal.
Reality is splitting wide, as times’ lines 
shift.  We raise our sights catching obvious signs.
Lyrian lightships like to slip by bedecked
black as shadows low horizon circumspect.

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by: Excel, Catching, Handle, Rivalry and #OctPoWriMo Day 5 prompt healing creating from the heart in a shape form or Licentia rhyme form.

Featured image taken yesterday as Lyrian lightships glided right overhead in such hilarious camouflage–I mean, this is broad slapstick humor.

Lightships are black.

Taken through the side window

#OctPoWriMo is really stretching me, expanding me into new spaces, which of course is where creativity sparks and flows and zings and….like that.

True Love Lessons

when we met in musical fall romance
my narrow view meant rescue and true love
until my body broke now our distance

off balance I trudge into wakefulness
hit hard and hurting from the jab my guts
insist I still. Yet I run playfulness

as rain erases traces, makes a mess
of the precise placement offered. True love’s
invite into the dawn precise largesse

the bunnies, hawks and I receive, profess
to understand.  The mostly green above 
a moving mystery, tantalized, blessed

red brilliance falling each leaf pure romance. 
From high a fool leaps—perhaps gently shoved? 
—the precipice, won’t I?  Openheart dance

a bluejay squawks and just in time, this yes 
slo mo surrender dive glides past each up-
draft and I’m rapt, furious gratefulness

curious codes.  Belly laughs sustain us
love calls all the mirages past burn up 
when we met in musical fall romance
until my body broke now our distance

Inspired by: Laugh, Trudge, Jab and Moving. I started a villanelle but this morning I’m a kid who just can’t color in the lines. I’m turning the page over and painting the walls and ceilings of my consciousness. You know, that kind of day?

Featured image is a kaleidoscope filter on this love letter the sky left me.

Weird Things Dance*

Pay attention to where your consciousness is being steered to reinforce narratives that may not be in the highest interests of all concerned.~Sandra Walter

All the new revelations show the old
lies bait and switch sleight of hand what is real

we create with intention our powers
rising into view honor what we feel

our delivery system looks a mess
childish outbursts tantrums emotional

distress alive vibrating here we are
the fine philanthropy devotional

dizzying variety of being
leaves caught in the wind chaotic beauty

in the name of love we imagine now
filters falling autumn’s calling duty

in deep integrity our voices rise
speaking in love opens our new surprise

Inspired by: Switch, Variety, Delivery, Philanthropy, the Stream of Consciousness Saturday post new/old and #OctPoWriMo Day 3 prompt finding beauty in chaos.

Soundcloud recording here

*Title is from a quote by M.H. Boroson, “Nothing is ever as simple as it seems. At the edge of perception, weird things dance and howl.”

Featured image is the kaleidoscope effect on this photo of a chaotic pile of leaves.

Stream of consciousness Saturday usually leads to an outpouring of poems inspired by the editing I am not allowed to do. I did make four edits as I was writing.

Pry My Heart Open

‘Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.’~Rumi

I’m ferocious intention, I decry
boldfaced atrocious lies. Manipulate
no more. Exposed.  Intuition’s rise guides
in silence from all sides.  Listen. Composed

in connection we tap into the deep
emotional roots that steep and simmer.
All squabbles amplified. Scream and cry. Feel
joy and sorrow.  Time reveals each fractal’s

critical. We can’t wait. No tomorrow.
Breath is now, a swirl of blessings we share
across the world. Receive and know essence
shatters life’s dreamy haze. Death is the wow

of waking.  Imagine cups overflow
the stream of love making our words matter.

Inspired by: Ferocious, Wow, Amplify, Squabble and #OctPoWriMo Day 2 prompt, write of feeling vulnerable in a Lannet sonnet.

Featured image is a photo of moss and bark with a 3D fractal filter.

Soundcloud recording here.