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.

In The Wild

Stacked sympathy cards lie like a stymie
in the line of play. Victims cry, why me,
finally see how they screwed up, fooled around.
The accusations fly, the guilt abounds.

Here in my path of service, aiming high
I praise morning, stare into glary sky.
I’ve learned I’m ever in the place I need
to be, intuitive vigilance heed.

Each wise whispered heart-voice counsels to still
and in creative space, imagine, drill
past all the seeming obstacles. The shag
untidy begs a second glance. Tool bag

brimming, I center, ground and breathe. Expand
beyond constraints of time. At my command
joy rises, flavored by the grief. This pain
I savor, so intense yet brief, free rein.

Inspired by: Screw, Stymie, Shag and (featured image) the ongoing visitation by beautiful white flying beings, which bring my mother into my presence with great joy.