She’s losing weight, nervous in this strange time
Her friends imprisoned and their only crime is age and wealth–the magnitude of this deception, locked in the safe chosen bliss the best money can buy–choice rigorous could never have foreseen the vigorous elimination of their liberty (they’ll die alone, medical misery).
In her fright, she threw me out. Willingly
I left. Consequences rise chillingly today I visit and my free heart sees because our choices of what we believe
create reality. What we release
–not easily–could cause the house of cards to topple (it’s going down). Bodyguards blink as stripped of everything, we find peace.
Inspired by: Nervous, Strange, Magnitude, Vigorous, the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt to use a word that starts with “m” as my theme (mother), and the OctPoWriMo Day 24 prompt trying something new. Shout out to all the people locked down (physically, fiscally, mentally, emotionally) poised to create new realities with their innate powers.
Featured image an ancient burled oak deep in the woods.
No soundcloud recording today as I’m on the road.
The hoarding is over now we run naked gleeful into the sun.
My grandson cries, “Nobody doesn’t love
me,” and I feel the outcast energy
rising ancestral tide of shame-tinged blame
and it’s a game we play with passionate
abandon: can you tune in, emote so
deep a doggy comes to sniff and lick in
sweet compassion? Sendings so true, alive
imaginations limitless. We find
when duress fills our sails, we flee across
the teeming ocean, no time to ponder
why there’s no rhyme today perhaps divine
intervention or an armor-shined knight
will play at slaying dragons—we can’t wait
throw down our Vorpal swords, befriend peril
I look up every weighted word until
in our wild power we must invent new
Soundcloud recording here.
Inspired by: Sails, Ponder, Duress, Divine the Stream of Saturday Consciousness prompt to use a word I have to look up (I look up nearly every word before allowing it into a poem, feeling into the weight of etymology) and the OctPoWriMo Day 17 prompt my wild rhythm.
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.
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.
*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.
To be aware of the silence can become pain for earthly [wo]man. But in the deepening silence there grows and ripens what [wo]man speaks to the stars.~Rudolf Steiner
In these starlit skies I watch the darkness
teeming, boiling to refine all that shapes me as a woman. My past a stark mess dreaming, toiling to define what escapes
my filters. We are trained quite brutally
not to see, to tell lies, yet still knowing our sacred container beautifully transmutes—frugal and precise winnowing—
turning the bruises into works of art.
My pure intentions keep me breathing here Just like a birth, these are labor pains, heart strong, I gasp and I surrender. All clear.
Inspired by: Watch, Refine, Darkness, Frugal and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt: Container.
Imagination is the often-forgotten force in the core of the human being. Our problems, at the core, exist only because we have “misplaced an infinity.”~Jon Rappoport*
Sharp September early wrapped in fleece
I remember waiting for the sun. At peace, eclectic ways to feel into
electric body riveting, pivoting
now, well met, fast-moving clouds! My travail allows inspection of the golden-gleamed horizon. Sipping coffee slow and warm my morning bluejays warn poignant and pointed. Even serenity is a star poking into absurd totalitarian measures. I don’t partake. That brand of Koolaid just tastes fake. I see the stain all around your panicked eyes, gone: smiles or frowns.
Succumb and lose identity, masked
and frail, breath denied. Sometimes it seems a dream. I thought there were many more alive, but I see drones apologetic and rueful, cowed, reading posted rules. Now what’s allowed? I remember waiting for the light in months like these. Now I simply bring myself, sovereign alive sparking love and curiosity. There’s no masked stranger staring in my mirror. Look at me model how common sense walks the world. Freely breathe. I don’t always have to rhyme. Sun now appears and I step out of time.
Inspired by: Serenity, Riveting, Eclectic, Travail and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt Sharp and Exit From The Matrix*, a life-changing imagination course by Jon Rappoport that I highly, highly recommend.
“As we enter September, another reality-shifting month in this transformative year, please stay focused on highest outcomes. Apply creative solutions to everything which presents on your path.”~Sandra Walter
“Imagination goes anywhere you want it to, and in the process, you discover ideas and realms and dimensions and power that would otherwise have remained invisible to the end of time. This is the natural state of affairs. Everything else is programming.”~Jon Rappoport
A sudden glitch in the matrix reveals
my superpowers. As I demonstrate creative realms, inventing on the heels of your chance speech, stupendous revelations sparkle our plates. More than a hundred –these days, who’s counting? You’re imaginating as well and more: as true contagion spreads yesterday’s ideas of dread clear. Being expansive as wizards, our creations bump, jostle and collide. Pop some bubbles joy cascades. Create now in amazement. Limitless freedom dissipates troubles.
Inspired by: Stupendous, Glitch, Speech, Demonstrate and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt more than a hundred.
In the morning I pause to greet a dog
a supporting character effusive love and joy wriggling. I’m all agog. She’s figured out what I find elusive
since my brush with death turned my life around.
How to be here now where true love abounds and the only price is energy, pure intentional being centered and sure.
Inspired by: Supporting, Pause, Character, Elusive and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt Brush.
Reality leaves a lot to the imagination.~John Lennon
In this spot stars hang plump as planets, pierce
my knowing. I am blind, feeling my way
through the dark antre, praising the sun fierce.
Empty lies gossamer fall out of play.
This weird year demands presence and grounding
firmly in my sacred vessel. Here now.
Breathing with intention. My heart sounding
through the depths as I ramble on. How
the maps fall away in this full stop.
Rotted foundations giving way. We play
and imagine with great power. The drop
into creative flow our saving grace.
Inspired by: Feeling, Stars, Ramble, Antre and the Stream of Saturday Consciousness prompt: Spot.
Happy Day of Universal Peace and Galactic Freedom
This is a beautiful place, magical
bird messengers cajole the breeze. Solar
gifts are streaming down, sun gazing eyeful
I’m beside myself moving in pure flow
when I uncouple now from time’s driving
check in with my future self, this discrete
being an illusion, all that striving
just a game. Breathe in and out. Now repeat.
Inspired by: Magical, Cajole, Discrete, Driving and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt: check/cheque/Czech.