The Natural Truth

How are you contributing to create the society to come, to live the nine loves of the anthropos:  freedom, truth, beauty, innocence, pleasure, learning, sharing, power and mystery?~John Lamb Lash

This vulture soaring, songbirds feeding, hot
and sticky at the end of days. The thought
of strictly severing ties–the lake life dies,
my mother’s death capsized the boat. Afloat

in untapped grief, I stay malleable.
Each processes or not. We’re fallible
and human. Alien perfection lies
are miscast, the shiny lure spins past. Skies

and soil ground through the empty narrative.
Sovereign, I breathe. It’s imperative.
The operation paperclips expose
the need to embrace love of anthropos.

Inspired by: Fallible, Operation Paperclip, Strictly and Sever.

Put On The Inspired Carpet

For the poets and songmakers, wordsmiths, the time is now to create new myths.~Victoria Stuart

Song lyrics infected by calls to sky
gods who in demented rage burn the eyes
in their scorched earth demand for praise. The gist
is: kill your mother. Genocidal twist

with rhymes and meters meant to stultify.
I dig through transcripts written by the scribes
who administered oaths and gathered lies
piled on so thick, they all give up and tithe

to buy their way out of this hellish space
illusion has declared exists. No place
is safe, the remedy comes from without.
Or so they say. I parse, allow the doubt

to surface and to flee. Now empowered
I’ve booted the cowards. Allow flowers
inspired from a new mythos: Sophia
songs composing grounded into Gaia.

When we realize the extent to which
ancient powers have been bent, we invent
new ways to convey the inner knowing
casting aside the lies mind-cults are flowing.

Written for these prompts: Transcript, Inspired Carpet and Tithe.

‘Twixt Tweedledum and Tweedledee

What aims you?~John Lamb Lash

When male kin taunt and tweet derisive scorn
I feel the trigger right between the thorns
but no longer do they sweep me to weep,
overweening creeps keeping me from sleep.

Inspired by: Keeping and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt wee.

Featured image: mother duck and her brood at sunset.

The Correction

Hummingbird, green heron and I feed, heed
each other’s chirp, skeow, sliding glass screed.
In the square box, I tuned and cohered, here
my clumsy machinations make it clear

I’m out of sync with my earth mother. Grind
away these toxic thoughts, the viral mind
infested in the genocidal foam
from fervent mindless waves derived by drones

who can’t imagine, so articulate
the programs coded by alien spate.
Prudent silence cannot effectuate
error correction. Grounded now we wake.

Inspired by: Foam, Grind, Articulate and Prudent.

Emanating Power

To sustain a narrative that accords
with all my sensitivities, this door
I claim in the lucid dream I’m dreaming
powerful imagination teaming

wild I ground my fractal grows I’m sound
and I’m alight, scarlet throated hummer
in flight. Finches school opens ear’s delight
a big bass leaps the ripples reach the shore

one marathon completed and now more
intensity of living heats my core.
The tactic of deceit exposed must die
along with every other patent lie.

It all starts here and now nowhere to flee
no victim/perpetrator bond. I’m free
and as each wound arises, I dive deep
her planetary sentience shapes my sleep.

Inspired by: Sustain, Marathon, Scarlet and Accord and my mother’s anticipated hibiscus, blooming now after her death

White Feathered Beings

Osprey spirals a white-winged blessing, dives
then changes trajectory. Now arrives
and I shift boneless malleable light
intuition guides my earthbound flight

as I imagine something you can’t do
machine-entrained mind-controlled brain, you spew
the latest memes and hashtags question not
the source of who you are and your dark thoughts

Dig deep into the roots, give a jiggle
loosen up deeply held creeds. Don’t niggle
over what’s implied. Let’s state it clearly:
humanity is at stake, sincerely.

Inspired by: Bone, Question, Jiggle and Imply.

Featured image: A white swan visitor. (The osprey came when I didn’t have my camera at hand!)

Perspective Change

When we realize we are run by a grand demented myth, we also see that we can correct our errors, choose our premises and most basic beliefs.

Little white bugs cling to screens unmoving
tiny fervent prayers to false light proving
the revelation by the sun. Sigils
inorganic incited this vigil

and now in exhaustion they appeal. Change
focus, clean the lens. Culture’s deranged
and every word is crafted to entrance
concealing Sophia’s emerging dance.

I vow to correct errors, so each wound
I feel intensely, ride the wave. I’ve crooned
too long the soothing song but now it’s clear
the psychopaths’ cachets belong not here.

Grounded, connected intuition flows
past these oblivious and clueless schmos
who I now see clearly, evil exposed.
Intentional I face Sophia’s foes.

Inspired by: Oblivious, Schmo, Cachet and the call to arms issued by the Fallen Goddess Scenario/Sophianic Myth.

Over It

Dissociation from the natural world verges on complete disembodiment, represented in Archontic ploys such as “transhumanism,” cloning, virtual reality, and the uploading of human consciousness into cyberspace.~John Lamb Lash

In the morning, I am empty, ready
to create in enmity’s face, steady
march of automatons proselytize
Derisive promises their coin can buy

proffered. Simply believe and you’ll receive.
They cannot imagine, cannot perceive
the program entrained in their brains, shaping
distortions toxic to humans. Aping,

they leer over curvaceous forms, sedate
while poisons infuse their boxes. Slave state
voluntary, they espouse the memes, dream
in lyrics from pop songs. Living beseems

false images on blue projected screens
so they shun the sun, kaleidoscope greens.
I cannot save a soul. I stand here, strong
cleaning Sophia’s fractal with my song.

Inspired by: Coin, Over and Curvaceous.

Featured image: earthing with a gorgeous seven-week-old baby.

Weaving Magic

Empathic contact with the living planet….beholding, pure and simple.~John Lamb Lash

As day begins, I weave intentional
loving strands. No qualms, unconventional,
a vibrant reminder to bronchioles:
breathing, we do our part. Unlock keyholes

to now where pure creation moves us through
the loom, each interlacing skein imbued.
Unique patterns emerge smooth and knotty.
I show up powerful. Call me haughty,

naughty, even dotty. My heart is clear.
My contribution in love’s hues mirrors
the energetic dance. Once realized,
the beauty of each thread intensifies.

Inspired by: Qualms, Bronchiole, Reminder, Haughty and morning chores nourishing and keeping alive the gorgeous living beings at the house where I’m petsitting.

What We Know

Unless there is internal force for resistance, psychic immunity, so to speak, the individual psyche will adapt to the stress of the collective imagination. It will become what it believes and forget what it knows.~John Lamb Lash

How does one gainsay vacuous culture
built on false premises? Foolish things sure
to topple in the ring of sound inner
knowing, but the words are colored. Sinner

take warning. Perpetrator victim bond
is sealed. Rat race mouse wheel and I respond
to abject pleas and harsh commands: join in.
Homeless, unemployed, I have no coin in

and yet my heart aches as the clones skitter
surface glitter, find the next outfitter.
And how easily they could new create
if they could just release this grasping hate.

Inspired by: the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt color/colour, vacuous, foolish things, skitter and gainsay.

Featured image: a tricolored beech outside of my window.