Dark Huntress

“Others around you may be succumbing to their own misperceptions and lack of energizing spirit—but that doesn’t mean you have to. And as an aside, if you decide you want to help those you care about and lift them up, try doing it without logic and imagination and see how far you get.”~Jon Rappoport

It might be a trick of the light, black dog
in the trees picking shadows. She’ll freeze
before frolic, her hunting genes guiding
this game of surprise and wild flight.

I’ve activated angel lobes, the rise
of higher human virtues. There’s such pain
in facing all these shadows I once tricked
and subjugated in my own dark cells

a dungeon of survival’s canny make
encouraged by sweet persistent light
to open now as the endgame reveals
my powers to heal, uplift and create.

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by Shadows, Outlandish, Frolic, Picking, the Saturday Stream of Consciousness prompt Trick, and the very last OctPoWriMo 2020 Day 31 prompt Light, Dark and Shadow (embrace all aspects of yourself).

My main focus in November will be NaNoWriMo. I may continue my prompted poems as well. Not sure how often I’ll post here. Take care and see you on the other side! (December).

Imagine Limitless

“On what basis has all this destruction been launched? A story about a virus. So pardon me if I keep attacking that story. If I keep pointing out gaping holes in that story. My basic position is this: …the cultish rhetoric coming out of labs aims to claim ownership over our bodies, minds, and souls….Reject that lunatic non-reality.”~Jon Rappoport

mystics and shamans deluge my inbox
offer hope classes, require students
insatiable anticipation

no rhyme or reason. invented monsters
to overcome now. i am not buying
these old creations, even billed Brand New!

I project power, imagination
what I say creates reality and
I dive inward. These teachers block the way.

Techniques and rituals keep us enslaved.
Exquisitely here I face what is mine,
leave all the tangled shams and cons behind.

They know not what they do is no excuse.
But understanding this, I can cut loose.
I’m free, a sovereign being. Now I choose.

Inspired by: Anticipation, Require, Student, Insatiable, Monster and the OctPoWriMo Day 30 prompt, I am. And the certainty that each person’s Power lies in healing the very fractal that stands between us and our breath. Healing now is essential, and only the imaginative individual has exactly what is required.

This Essential Fractal

I fill every empty room with so much
me.  Spilling out in every corner, you
could probably build an annex, some such
way to try to hold me but I’m free.

You remind me of what’s pertinent, show
daily recommendations, slow me down
and cage me with your past beliefs that throw
a veil on creativity.  Come ‘round

today, as I release the mind control
deep places from my childhood dancing wild
and see the tracks are artifacts.  You know
the world is new. I heal me.  You do you.

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by: Empty Room, Pertinent, Annex, Recommendation and the OctPoWriMo Day 29 prompt Railroad Tracks (traveling, vagabond, nomadic, wanderer).

Love’s Reach

To reason, Love can only say
this way is barred,
you can’t pass through,
but to the lover
it offers a hundred blessings.~Rumi

Filled with life’s promise, you dance ahead
disseminate joy’s exuberance.
The fracas in my head left behind.
Love calls us in vivid fleeting hues
we cannot miss, spinning, jocular
journey together. Lead on, sweet child,
this path through the wilderness alit
with every color on the earth.

Inspired by: Fracas, Disseminate, Jocular, Promise and the OctPoWriMo Day 28 prompt Journey (Path, Trail, Decision, Choices), and Mirabai Ceiba setting my favorite Rumi poem to music. And my four-year-old grandson telling his mother, “We went hiking and we saw every color on the planet!”

I’m Lying To Myself

How awake can we become to the predefined spaces in which we live our physical, material, moral, emotional, energic and spiritual lives?  To what extent can we create these lives by our own imagination, rather than by using our inventive powers to fit into a tight blueprint of reality?”~Jon Rappoport

Where is the love and when do I lie
to myself? I say it matters not
that you’re ghosting me. You’re the bad guy
with allegations, a scatterplot

and no discourse! I’m dangerous
you say, breaking-the-rules insane.
You’d ban these books so traitorous.

rippling through society
endings sow anxiety

we fingerpoint and blame.

our resolutions
create solutions

if we sit down
be still and find
a peaceful sound

beyond the story
lines, the noose around
necks metaphor. Be
awed. We are earthbound.

Pride topples as the storms
dissolve our old platforms
and we create new norms.

Dance each powerful sun flare,
clearing our essential air.

Finally we imagine free.

Inspired by: Endings, Awe, Allegation, Topple, and the OctPoWriMo Day 25 Prompt, break the rules (Stretch, Disorder, Chaos, Expand, Anarchy) and create your own poetry form.

My new poetry form starts with a 9-syllable ABAB quatrain, followed by an 8-syllable CDC tercet, a seven-syllable couplet EE, a six-syllable single line D, a five-syllable couplet FF, a four-syllable tercet GHG, a five-syllable quatrain IGIG, a six-syllable tercet JJJ, a seven-syllable couplet KK, and a single line of 8 syllables with internal rhyme. (Simply, stanza-wise, it’s 4-3-2-1-2-3-4-3-2-1.) I call it Victoria. Unless someone has already done it.

Creating New

As you think so it shall be…. . The entire paradigm shift is so massive that you have to adapt to a completely new reality. Nothing is exactly as it appears to be. Don’t be depressed and let yourself be drawn to fear. You are not incarnated just to survive. You are here to create and enjoy a high quality of life. Live in dignity and be noble.~Solara

Cultivating stillness I drive
through old beliefs and wounds which pound
my red Jeep.  The raindrops resound
relentless yielding I arrive

recreating the painful past
my new powers projecting
to make sense at last
I bring my love connecting
through the dark and hidden places
now unearths, presents to grace.

Exquisite presence looks around
reveals strategies to survive
which dissipate as love arrives
redecorates old battlegrounds.

Divide and conquer narratives
weave anger and despair.
This pause is the curative.
I breathe slow into air
which touches every being, gives
space where hearts can truly care.

Llego en este momento
y milagros son todo que lo siento.

Soundcloud recording here.

Today’s prompts invite me to realize that the impending dead stop can never jeopardize my buoyant spirit. Fear creeps past, another artifact crumbling in my gratitude now. The OctPoWriMo Day 23 prompt is Gratitude (Hope, Dream, Anticipation, Thankful) in the new-to-me form La’libertas, and a surprise poppy and her tiny friend who braved the cold to present a love letter which I pass on to you.

Translation: I arrive in this moment and all I feel are miracles.

Grey Turns To Blue

Each face swimming into my hereness
calls and texts or in the shunned connections
blessings in this misty morning nearness
the grey thick air devours reflections
of vivid vistas. Yesterday’s clearness
disappears. Here a cold wet inspection
alleviates misperceptions, makes light
of falsely perceived rejection haze-bright.

The fractal I create illuminates
all of my lessons soaking in presence.
When we touch I embrace, elucidate
the wounded patterns in my face.  Essence
of evolution, intuitive gates
open the paradigm’s obsolescence.
Hear my growl deep in the woods.  Rain-fog gifts
are love, a sending as the timelines shift.

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by: Grey turns to blue, Alleviate, Devour, Vivid, Growl and the OctPoWriMo Day 22 prompt to follow your gut feelings in an Ottava Rima.

No Rhyme In Rejection

The nature of trauma is that it is unconscious; something frightened or disturbed us enough so that we did not want to experience it. We shut down, we froze, we acted out, we ran. We did not make sense of the experience and file it away, we threw it out of consciousness.~Tian Dayton

I reject the swamp of my birthplace, call
and finagle love by the sea. Far from
my roots, play the gargoyle–mysterious 
pagan goddess adorning cathedrals—

spiked-head cautionary tale.  I’m trying 
to make these words sensible.  My lineage
settles for mosquito-infested land
losing sight of possibility, hard

survival hunkers down even though just
a few miles up the road is paradise.
I reject my habitude.  Centuries 
of unprocessed trauma rise.  The shoreline

fraught, I pause in fear anticipating 
the shock of change, cold slap of moving sea
and I must leap, reject the quandary.
Relentless tide brings what lies beneath the 

surface, the deep places pain claims surge 
like a riptide, insisting I dive deep
release the illusions to dry crumbling
on sand.  Shivering, wet, now I accept. 

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by: Swamp, Gargoyle, Finagle, Habitude, the OctPoWriMo Day 20 prompt “touch”, and a vivid memory of exhausted swimming in a riptide in Lima.

And breathe

We each create and manifest
from the deep places release pearls
magic

luminescent, opalescent, 
translucent unfathomable 
beauty

even so we try to fathom
immediately with measures
from past

which take us away, a standard
to judge beautiful by a pose
static

just feeble attempts to control
reality by spinning tales
folly

We look upon the consequence
of each belief that held us hard
misken

through the fluidity of now
flow heartmelting chances to be 
anew

love singing synchronicity
embraces integrates the pain
just blink

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by writing through a power outage that lasted all morning, and the synchronicity of the OctPoWriMo Day 19 prompts about “being in the present. Dig deep and use words you don’t regularly use” in a new-to-me form called Synchronicity.

Recovering Romantic

All of the readers I consult believe
a twin flame true love soul mate will relieve

what’s ailing me. I still and look beneath
romantic stories that I used to breathe

a young girl waiting in a tower above
the cruel world inside. They called it love

with promises sublime I was entrained
to quell my power by the weight of chains.

Recovery depends on the extent
I stand my ground, consent to my ascent.

You have returned, you beg a hearing though
you shunned my overtures, you say you’ve grown

and two hearts exponentially expand
the sensibilities in this new land.

Duality illusion games are through.
The path inviting opens hearts when true.

Alone I meditate and heal myself.
Come as you are. I’m here. Just be yourself.

Inspired by: Recovery, Extent, Promises, Sublime and the OctPoWriMo Day 18 prompt, how to relax and process feelings (Rejuvenate, Reboot, Breathe, Meditation, Process, Healing) in a form of my choosing, which today are rhyming iambic pentameter couplets.