Friday, April 18, 2008

Aries candles

Beyond Belief

There never was anyone
I could believe in.
I don't believe
in you.
This won't be a sappy story
of imperfect beings
learning to love
together in the
sunshine
Embracing in fields of daffodils
Happy to be
imperfect beings
together.
This is finally
about me
saying no
to oh how have I done wrong?
Why don't they love me?
Am I so very unworthy?
Why can't I belong?
And no clouds part in the heavens.
No voice calls out
vibrant with song or solace.
There is no one to believe in.
I must, solitary, find my way,
my peace,
beyond the boundaries
of
belief.

(c) March 22, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


Kinship

Why be kind?
Why model humane expectations
of the reasoned mind?
Theories of evolution say
strategies of the Golden Rule,
like birds in migration, fish in school,
move us all forward,
increase the common pie.
All well fed, well loved,
well and whole.
Why would we not embrace
that model?
Why favor divisive cries of
anger, bitter tears fed
by fears unfairly explored?
Why be kind in the face of
derisive mocking?
Fear's not unfounded to we
bearing wounds of sharp stones
flung in punishment as gossips
proclaim our sins.
Can we find and flow together,
name ourselves as kin:
we who are kind?

(c) March 23, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


Warrior fire blazing
the trail of battle
Lighting the night in
song and story
walking in glory
(Look at you!
You know we do,
checking you out,
'cause you so fine.)
Smiling sunshine or throwing
angry clouds
you thrill the crowds,
keep us all in line
with that arching frown,
then play the clown
and we all applaud.
May I say, I am awed by
the way your presence echoes,
keeps time and space at bay
as if you create each new
dawning day
in your flame.



Earth Angels

That speciesism
That arrogance
Deaf to the wisdom
of the faery lore
Killing the goose,
and the whales,
and untold trees
bearing fruits that might have
saved us untold pain
Lives so dependent
on microbes and photosynthesis,
beings never catalogued,
processes not understood
Focused on ephemeral
opinion, name and number
fantasies
Realities we have yet to take in,
to acknowledge,
fall, collateral damage
to thoughtless bravado,
petty greeds and rivalries.

(c) March 26, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


Moving Pictures

Ensconced in clouds
escaping uncaring crowds
My precious pearls left behind
stomped on, buried, by swine
so intent on making faux silk
of their ears
they hear nothing
allowing me the peace
to release these tears
from ocean eyes.
Floating through the sky,
creating images:
elephant on an isthmus, trunk extended
to kiss the snout of a whale
rebounding from the sea.
My noble, cozy cloud, with me
gently whistling along
catching wisps of trailing song
haunting the breeze
waving birds wandering trees
the day gently passes
Forgotten tears, lost pearls,
old fears,
the details distinguishing life
from cinematic bliss.

(c) March 28, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


March tune

Substance obscured
mucked in human manure
floats through the common sewer
Unembraced, unengaged with
given short shrift, just
a gutter myth
They who say never know
Why blow your wad --
soak 'em for the dough
Keep a tight lid, kid on
who you were, what you did
Never let them see you sweat
It's dangerous to show regret
You're not a target; you're a threat
Do you get what we're all missing?
We could be sharing, open, listening
Giving credence to each other's
dreams and needs and
abilities
Healing rifts with respect,
gracious civilities
Because the puzzle is only complete
with all of the pieces in sync
Brain cells invited to think,
brawn to chop wood, carry water,
soul to dance in the sunlight
and under far away stars

(c) March 30, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


Opening Statement

The U.S. is committing treason
against
ideals of liberty
Forcing my siblings into war
at home and abroad
Taking prisoners to torture
Urging the mob to applaud
Perpetrating a fraud
against bravery and honor
Bald-faced lies, a con
surreal in scope,
crippling to reason
I dare call it treason
in the name of hope's
American dream.




Child of Grace

A child of my time
and the universe
Fiercely at play in the ruins
stomping antiquities
into sharp shards
to sculpt my mosaic
in shifting sands
I call to You,
Gods of the Heavens,
hidden behind my eyes,
Come see, and applaud
my holiness
I tell Your secrets
in riddles, rhythms
If those fools would but
smile and dance
the sands would fly into music
Play on

(c) April 1, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


Obsequious in resentment

Heart-filled caring souls
wringing, fling out
wellsprings distilled from
private pain, gifts of
remembrance, healing
rituals, shamanic curse
spun into fine golden
fabric glittering like sunbeams
upon brilliant waterfalls
sparkling rivers of life.
Those who have found the key
play here. Time loses
consequence. Old wounds rename
into fascinating scars,
fireside stories.
Conversation binds kinship.
We are free to be
frail and strong,
innocent and wise,
unencumbered.
Obsequious in resentment
angry souls without hope
farting epithets
express angry gargoyle smiles
as badges
of superiority.

(c) April 2, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


Free Flight

Slipping into the space between
molecules
Free flight
No matter, no duration,
no rules
no gravity
keeping me below
my reptile mind
fears and rages
piled on through the ages
no air, no sky
to breathe
only corrosive poison
burning death
Escape
Inside the flame,
space between molecules
Unseen
Flying free
beyond the stuff of dreams
beyond recall

(c) April 5, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


Child's Prayer

Forcibly called from eternal
perfect pastures
Wrenched from beauty sublime
into bound servitude
Yet highly honed
brilliant skills
given no access point,
disallowed, spat upon.
Kept captive, starved,
brutalized, not for crime
nor failing,
not even for the joy of cruelty.
Calling forth a potent spirit
should not be lightly undertaken.
Never having learned to honor
is poor training
for roles of responsibility.
Can I tell you? May I
whisper shrilly into your
inner ear?
Set me free; release my wings.
You have no use for my wisdom.
Let me go home.

(c) April 6, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


Attempting to express eternal pain
I burnt my finger
and felt nothing.
Is pain eternal, at all real?
Or but a metaphor
for what we dare not feel?
Too intense to survive.
Was that what they said of me?
On my way to burdening cross
I would spin you my tales
into a warm coat of many colors.
I would regale you with my dirges
and bacchanals.
Would you pay a pretty penny?
Would your thoughts and prayers
protect me?
I share your home and structure
to mutual chagrin.




I am the rabbit
That chic Alice had the hots
for me and we had planned
to hole up for awhile
But then thing's got too
surreal, Lewis Carroll
and all
I began to feel used
as a plot device
Can you blame me?
I ate some of Caterpillar's
mushroom and moved
in with Jimmy Stewart
Called myself Harvey
Loved the cocktails
Later, I haunted Donnie Darko
but that's another tale
What I mean to say is
that fiction
is born, bred, propagated
out of pain, vanity, desperation
and the humor we decree
to spite it all
I have no legitimacy
It is enough if
I come when you call

(c) April 6, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


Lovers Meeting

Carry her with love
Always, in your deepest places
She is a woman upon the Earth
in an land of briar and weeds
It is so easy to fall
to fail to thrive
set upon by slavering beasts
and prophets
You know she yearns to serve
so well
that none could find fault
Yet every agonizing step
like angry knives
cutting from below
hobbles her further, deeper
leaving less to give
Bloody prints mark her
dusty trail
Thirsting for the cooling warmth
of love
Carry her into your
sacred caverns
secreted wellsprings
journey's end

(c) April 7, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon



vibration

Buzzing bees call me to sleep
gently drinking effervescent nectar
spreading propagating pollen
sending my wayward tale,
casting forward my fate

I hear the buzz
Responsibility is no part of privilege
Privilege is self-evidence of desert
Prancing private parts into the face
of horror, of terror, of despair.
Conquest by dictate creating
some bizarre maze of disfigured mirrors
Unaware of consequence, of karmic grace,
of simple summing: A resolving into A
for Arrogance, for Anger, for Allegory,
fallen Angels dance in pinhead glee
Dancing out past the veils, will to see
that slim glimmer of freedom
The buzz, that subtle song,
echoing and shifting the drumbeat
New Queens rise, take flight through
brilliant skies, awakened
from potent dreaming to excitement,
seedlings bursting into life

(c) April 11, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


American Way

America
at the beginning of the
21st Century
before everything changes
Well-fed plains to
adventurous peaks to
unending seas
Large in bounty, beauty,
beneficence
We know what is right, holy
to humanity
Honoring that inner voice
urging toward greatness
unmeasurable in numbers
Each and every part
foretells the whole

You lash out
appalled to hear
my words of truth
I have no allegiance
to these words
The important point is
not the map
but the unrelenting landscape



career plan

It isn't hard
no harder than
day to day futility
watching burning death
giving in
to wanton sorrow
inescapably
Dream big
skies wide and high
no edges
Neverland's adventure
of creative play
Then map out the way
from here to there
making a plan around
the fiercest dragon,
most evil King,
that sinking feeling when
everyone laughs derisively
because they fear an end
to entitlements of complaint
or simply have no faith
in dreaming
The hard part is knowing
leaping into the heart
of imminent change
hearing the hosannas and
hallelujahs of inevitability
wrenching now into wherever
tempest expends
Making the leap, why not act wisely
Look toward the highest possibility
in reworking the real

(c) April 16, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon

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