De-cluttering

This deep despair sucking at me,

and to teach the nearest

children watching,

— they all do —

I connect to the earth,

send all these toxins

down into her receptive joy —

this is fuel, and she transforms

arrowing back to me

energy to fill those empty spaces.

And the light shakes out more.

My breath guides me

in the new power

and out in a whoosh

all the emotions and thoughts

and poisons that obstruct me

cage me in this November sadness

and I feel that storm

of sorrow

funnel

into Gaia’s embrace.

We carry each other,

our connections fine

as light filtering

to the abandoned places

stirring the seeds of new

growth finally available

into this revealed soil.

Hosting wider in my system

expanded to feel your stream

as well, vivid

pulsing alive

tactile

in another dimension

we learn to feel into.

Inspired by: Guide, Tactile and Nearest.

Another little tidbit from the #nanowrimo project I’ve been creating.  If this is a novel, it’s an entirely new form.  I’m loving it, 16K words so far!

Same old Samhain

Rising from the endless depths

to see these

celebrants of bloodcurdling

horror and macabre death

appropriated from

the ancient Celts

and Indigenous present.

The weight of wisdom

inexplicably inciting

excited misguided

attempts to be other

but sexy,

trying on wicked outfits

ignoring the lurking

tropical storm just humming

in the perfect conditions off the coast.

The oceans get warmer and we

continue our blind imitations.

Samhain at sunrise

bonfires lit in darkness

the liminal time

to host our dead.

The gateways are open

and so our young don

their superhero capes

knocking on the doors

of our hearts, asking for sweet

mercy, and we fill their questing

hands with poison

the slow death of sugar

as we try to align ourselves

from the outside in,

and we find our costumes

just don’t fit.

 

Written for the #OctPoWriMo prompt Endless and inspired by: wicked, bloodcurdling, dead, weight and tropical.

Global Warming

The process of rewarming is extremely painful; the tissues will not hurt at all until they are rewarmed, but once they begin to thaw, the pain is intense. – Williams College Health Center on frostbite

I am in a state of shock
and I feel powerful.

I want to end this life
and I want to stay and heal.

I am disgusted by the rampant
dingy soiled sheets
aired and called clean
on the public streets.

I am frightened by the lies
like treacle, treacherous
and sticky, cloying
and repressing all decency.

The welfare of the planet
mocked and denigrated
the airwaves controlled
by greedy powerseekers

who blast this continual
filth, inspiring the basest
among us, the psychopaths,
to strike out

in their justified fear,
following the hateful prompts
ringing in their ears
24/7. The numbers don’t lie,

the hate permeates
the call to resist
promising more
to resist. I ignore the ephemeral

pull, relax into the ocean
of movement.
I’ve already discovered
the disconnect inherent

in the specialists’ diagnoses:
angry inflammation of cells
the condition in this moment
inexplicable, everlasting.

I call bullshit.

Colonialism creates an entire system
based on consumption
and it consumes us,
holy hell

our need inflamed
and the soothing sublime
solution, so long locked out,
is going to hurt

when we allow it back.
We listen and slowly
invite what is outside
revealing

what is frozen within us,
sitting
in this torment

hosting the thaw

screaming and allowing
because this change
reorders our chaotic lives

and it’s time
to leap
into the creative flow
all together now

our global hive mind
committed
to change this moment

on this planet
we hold in our very cells.

Written in response to #OctPoWriMo Day 29 prompt: By the numbers, and inspired by: Repress, Dingy, Ephemeral, Sublime, and Welfare.

Color My World

Drench the world drab 

gray morning blankets 

lost in the resistance

and I’m shivering.

Echoes of harsh 

Mephistophelian snickers

judgmental and cruel

pervade the long corridors

of my stormy night.

My friends expect me

and I just can’t

open my eyes to please them.

Still

I drift into a calm

love is calling

so it’s no coincidence

I’m here in the we-space,

silent

until chaos tumbles

angry red, mindful blue,

passionate purple and

inspired yellow.  

My friend says I’m back

in that black-and-white space

my childhood created

— such a wise person,

look, we survive!

The pendulum swing from

an adorable

toddler celebrating rainbows

and this is good!

shifting when he leaves

to a fierce masquerade

of this constant

critical voice

judging

them

or me

someone is at fault

someone is bad 

it’s me.

As I reflect

light into the past

I lug around 

seeking mastery, 

my next evolutionary step,

I determine it’s time

to stand on one leg

like a pink flamingo,

nodding to the bluebirds

gathered outside my door

as the first fall flames

flicker gold and orange

and light a different way.

Written for the #OctPoWriMo Day 27 prompt: What color is it? And inspired by: Adorable, Masquerade, Coincidence, Complete, Drench and Mephistophelian.

Joy Follows

I’m frightened

— I can’t breathe

and is it worth the struggle?

Late in the night, I forget

my blessings focused

on the manifestations

of this stress-filled week.

I’ve been without

power, afraid to reach out

— with chronic illness, you learn

to fade into the shadows

rather than voice your pain,

to spare your loved ones.

Daylight shines on the toddler

who collapses in sadness,

I can’t do it.  He’s tapped

into my vibration, not an abstract

idea after all.  I assume

an approximation of certainty:

You can do it! 

He’s created an opening

to empower

and I seize it, leaping from

the cliffs of mastery

of limitations to speak

to all of the young children:

We can do it!
Let’s do this!

At every step to walk my talk

I illuminate

the uncomfortable reactive

places, speak truth

and let go of the programmed

fear forcing a fit that

itches, inflames

my body says no.

This belief system no longer

serves so I take the painful

path to learn

to be myself fully,

integrated, resonant

in authentic joy.

Written for #OctPoWriMo Day 24: Opening, and inspired by: approximateabstract, manifestation, frighten, empower, and late.

Therapy Talks

Now heal this 

child

who’s missing safety.

Daylight exposes

dark secrets.

Nightmare awakening, 

screaming child.

Hush, now, exasperated parents

place drunken touching

in unopened drawers,

hidden luster 

until the truth

reveals luster,

hidden drawers unopened

in touching drunken place.

Parents exasperated 

now hush.

Child-screaming awakening, 

nightmare secrets,

dark exposés.

Daylight safety 

missing

whose child

this heals now.

Written for #OctPoWriMo Day 22, Betrayal, in a palindrome form.  Inspired by: Disguise, Drawer, Luster,  Exasperated, and Safety.  This form is difficult, and it almost made me change my rule of only devoting an hour to the prompt poem.  I am sure to revisit it, so I welcome any comments.

Barking Up The Wrong Tree

What do you want?
As if your need
rises up and renders you
like lard sizzling in the skillet.

Over and over
guided and coached: what do you
want? Studied and analyzed

by your footprints
your posts, your likes,
your purchasing history
your comments,

following
the trails crafted by psycho-
paths who sell a different
peace you could obtain

if only you could get
what you want

that perfect Instagram moment
at the top of the wave
sunlit tresses tossed
emerging from the pain

with wisdom,
and the glorious smile
that convinces you to
forget the other 86,399

seconds in a day,
inevitable, carrying you
the ebb and flow and
your ancestors resonating

and thrumming in your veins
and everyone wanting.
Lamenting the deplorable

play where the actors dissemble
with fake smiles
stealing your presents
while chanting the challenge:

what do YOU want?
When really, all that’s lacking
is the silence of inner
space that opens

right now to ducks
diving in the lake
five degrees above freezing
emerging in concentric circles

rippling out to touch the others
before they descend again
diving separately
in tandem

together
and now apart,
swimming through a gold

blaze signaling
fall in the green lake,
the first brilliant week
of autumn reflected

the waters, calm
before newcomers splash down
in silvery water shimmers
of resolution. The question

turns reality
inside out and flings you
into a fruitless flummox

WHAT do you want?
Full of myself,
brimming with you,
how
can I be more

here
more
now
eyes open

mind clear
heart receptive
to this deluge
of blessings?

Inspired by: #OctPoWriMo Day 19: What do you want, Challenge, Week, Dissemble, Deplorable,  Resolution.

The Inner Witch

Once upon a time

in a former culture

long forgotten,

a priestess foresaw

a probable future.

And though she issued

warnings, her prophetic voice

was lost as a path

in a true blizzard

the kind where there is no

step forward,

only hunkering down

in a crude shelter

fashioned blindly

in great haste

at life’s peril.

Sheltered there, covered

with icy dread,

she waits

still

for a song,

our cathartic voices

raised to melt

her cage

and ignite

her smoldering power.

Inspired by: #OctPoWriMo Day 18, Once Upon A Time, Prophetic, Cathartic, Culture, BlizzardFormer

As Bad As All That

Coyotes are BAD, he spat 

exiting the room in his grand

conceit of wisdom.

In my world this is how males

converse with mere females.

Deliver the brilliant blast

assume abject

approval, and draw

the discussion to a firm

unyielding end.

The echoes of his favorite 

television channel reverberate

in his passage, that seductive

assumption that I am good

and everyone else

and every other living thing

is undeserving

of consideration

in their struggle for survival.

This is colonialism in the modern

world, insistent upon 

eradicating the pests

until only a green country club

with high gates and tasteful

umbrellas for casual dining

invites

the eye 

— after proper approval

and paying the exorbitant dues —

to perfectly landscaped

rolling hills, cart paths

through lovely tree-lined vistas.

A place where everything evil

has come to rest

in the hearts of the people

determined to stay apart.

Dissidents are dangerous.

The shrinking world

manageable with the right dose

of pesticides and

antidepressants,

heart medicine

and blood pressure pills.

They tee off

enjoying the slow death

the planetary gasp

riding the white 

waves to shore

one final time.

Inspired by #OctPoWriMo Day 15 Prompt: If __ were an umbrella, and Conceit, Draw, Blast, Brilliant, Approval.

Snakes and Ladders

the   first   simple   step   is   to   awaken

aghast   and see   the world’s  projection

stage                                                and stay

alert                                              eyes wide

then  that deep  dive   into  inner silence

focus      on  shining   light     in darkness

creep                                               through

dank                                                      fetid

rot-smell   cold-slime   quivering  pieces

the ones                                         who urge

finality                                       at three a.m.

unrecognized pale  night-creatures locked

away   until   a   friend’s  casual   comment

she’s no                                                  longer

suicidal                                                  you see

you’re  not  alone  blindly casting  for rungs

you  thought   you  could  climb  out without

them                                                        wearing

vibrant                                                     versions

the world will accept,  but  you  ricochet  back

forced  to  claim  the  horror  features   silently

running                                          black and white

fueling                                             your discontent

the  most  precious part of your being desperate

to  be  integrated   to   finally   know  what   it’s

like to                                                              be you.

 

 

 

Inspired by #OctPoWriMo Day 14, If I Were Me, in a shape poem (a ladder is much more difficult that I thought, but, hey, it’s my first shape poem.  Also, just viewed this on my phone and there is no shape at all, it looks like a mess, which is also appropriate) and Vibrant, Shelter, Feature, Ricochet.