Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Cancerian Candles 2008


You can have your equinoxes
The Solsti, days of extremes
Sun to Earth
Cardinal points of worth,
symbolic mining, enchaining
rock to sea
kinetic energy
displacing space and time
twixt ecstatic Saturn
and brother Moon, sublime.
Secreted in esoteric lore
a wealth of stories
everyday glories and
exotic songs
evoking ancient memories.
I dream a shining university
upon a sparkling hill.
If wisdom can save us from
the illness of slavedom,
I bow to wisdom's will.

(c) June 20, 2008

Of course you come to listen
My tales tell your secrets
scryed from vivid crystal
whispered ancient code.
You must remember
Spring day walking
along a rocky roadside
sandy hair, gritty eyes
into silent reverie
song singing hallelujahs,
brilliant paranoias.
Sprinting across,
little images.
Listless children whine
"Why does no one let us play?"
A world of sullen children
overdue for naps and coddling,
blueberry jam at teatime.
It can't be a secret
if nobody's listening.
But, listen:
places in your mind
will answer.

Midsummer Evening

Floating on cool jazz
Enjoying mellow wine
My own little garden party
'midst the flowers of my mind.
Back from the rabbit hole.
Back from New York City, Boston,
Detroit, LA ...
from every day unfolding another
everyday grind.
Finding time to play, haunted
by happy memories
exhorting starlight.
Midsummer twilight,
fairytales brought back from sleep.
No longer keeper of my brethren's dreams,
I don mischievous costume,
dancing out power, glory,
love gentle as a summer evening's rain,
blossoming countryside,
dandelions and clover,
bounty of Earth, whispering stories
flowering prophets,
delectable, potent, wise
in the ways of demons,
oracles, gypsy Queens.
Escaping into sacred muse-ways,
every day a new day,
standing ground against a grind
each day more distanct
Insighting sound, opening vistas

(c) June 21, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon

Fish Tale

I didn't know the fish would die
flapping on sun-warmed metal.
Peacefully domestic afternoon.
Children discover death
and other worlds.

Sitting by the well
to draw inspiration.
Spinning yarn, weaving words.
Dusty work. Flakes of skin
embed the fabric.
Struggling through childhood,
the tales get twisted.
Little boys & little girls
separate language.
We think we know our place,
our destinies,
from the games we're given,
the words we've learned to say,
rhymes, reasons, rituals.
Imbibing passion body to body,
we awaken rules of blame.
The woman tempts.
The hero conquers.
The sad boy desires a
self-fulfilling fantasy,
stomping upon his heart to
start the flow of real blood,
real rage.
Out of water, out of earth,
out of air
flopping upon some inert surface
the tale mechanistically repeats.
What world can we discover
nurturing life?

(c) June 23, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon

Under a Piscean Moon

Gods have their reasons,
dramas, power plays,
aesthetic necessities,
ecstatic passions.
Our concerns are of another realm,
born responsible for managing our fate
until it overwhelms.
Job thought himself holy,
was doing fine, not realizing
his role as fool.
Hitler, too, saw his glorious plan
unfolding, paradise on Earth.
Did he think "They will equate my name
with evil." ? What is worth eternal life
as history and myth?
If I could have one answer
assured to be True,
what would be my quest?
Is there one Truth, above the rest?
Selection is a process,
winnowing down.

My quest:

How do I encompass
all that will make me strong and wise
in one easy lesson?

Walking along evening
a darkening, unknown road,
smell the blooming lilacs,
ease eyes upon gentle beauty,
each next step
taking itself.

(c) June 25, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


about which pearls spin
beauty, eerily opaque.
Mer-songs quiver as crystal
radiating frequencies
captured in time.
Darkness calls from slumber.
Oppressive gasping,
titillating air and sea
may erupt in symphony
loud and raucous
as life.
Cutting through strong silken veils
to inept, naked truth,
pearl adornments break,
settle upon ocean floor.
Seadivers ply their trade,
pretty gems for pretty pennies.
Everything recycles.
Every soul is saved.

(c) June 25, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


In my experience
people have kids as
a side-effect of
heterosexual activity.
During said activity, they
are not thinking about
having kids.
After said activity, they
often think about
not wanting to have kids.
Somewhere along the line,
the kid gets had.
That's life: the kid gets had --
the easily fleeced gets to
take the fall until
we learn the rules
of conquest.
Thus generation recapitulates,
replacing those who've gone before
in function if not form.
This is why mythology
binds us.
Blind lead blind across
vast desert expanse,
telling stories of past
glories and bemoaning
treacheries, exhorting faithful
adherence to ancestral code.
Not DNA, hardware glitches
more likely herald mutation.
Software code
may glitch hilariously,
otherwise betray conventional consciousness.
Why take on responsibility,
anchor to roles or
take part in the tale?
Do you believe in fate?
Do you believe we learn from
each other in relationship
how to become our own story?
A chance we take, or are given,
chisels out a bit of
who we are.
Does it matter?
I guess we each get to decide.

(c) June 27, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon

Soul Food

Poetry they call you,
writing from the soul,
beyond the bounds of fiction,
more will-infused than fact.
I can only tell you
secretly, in private language
chemical smells guiding
we of a kind to prey.
Feasting upon amygdala
potent in emotion.
Coming into fruition
as the salt of tears.

(c) June 27, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


Legend tells stories
we live
not in here and now.
Dancing together,
grasping fact from fiction.
Once there lived a taler,
a minstrel, a bard
intent on spinning villagers
into his yarn,
carrying each essence
on his trail throughout
the kingdom,
even sailing to far-flung
shores when occasion
allows. Spreading stories,
like disease, infecting
whole populations who evermore
clamor for the bit of soul
his stories capture.
Listen, o' children, o' brethren,
ancestors walking their journeys
tuned weary minds to songs
of battle and adventure.
Our minds, our tasks,
our journeys can be our own.

(c) June 29, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon

avoid blinding (by science)

It is an association
not clear cause/effect.
I smile.
You smile.
Each enjoying a private joke
or hiding embarrassment.
We who claim the primacy of reason
need to give care,
avoid the chasms
of treacherous conclusions.
Open to the highest odds
while grounded on earthly
go forth ye brave young heroes.
Learn the secrets of
subtle sacrifice
and divine glory.
Just take care the sayer
of your sooth
worships vows of purity.
Even so, keep on your quest
exploring for wealth in
not yet discovered.

(c) June 30, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


Caging the Beast
"call me after the Rapture" I
post on religious social network
Have you read Yeats' "Second Coming"?
After the prophecy
After the hard, hard rain
after the rainbow
Call me. We should get together.

(c) July 1, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon

A long and twisty journey
to find myself where I started
never having gone at all...

Half a Page of Scribbled Lines

Stone cottage in enchanted forest
Magical fireplace flickering stories
old and new
Giants and waterfalls
Flighty energy sprites
casting luminescent nets
betwixt, between.
Walking sedately
subliminally aware of
unobtrusive omnipresent
Sending out psychic feelers
sweeping for malevolent intent.
Brain shaking data bombardment
tiny spinal fractures emit
memory, reason, the capacity to love.

Realities Doorway

I am free to wander
all the stories that
could ever be,
choose the ones I
like the best
to tell myself
in sleepy morning
The sacred doorway stands open
my little house surrounded
in gentle blue heaven.
My landscape bold and bright
with soft-hued bubbles
for enchantment.
Voyages, stories
siren call
to blessed stones of serenity,
adhered to by playful
sparkling sands.
Anytime you ask
I will send you my stories
to dream on, to
interweave, to enhance.
Just outside my doorway
there are eternities more.

(c) July 5, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon

Loving Meditation

If there are visions
you feel missing
from your life
perhaps you don't know yourself
as well as duty tells you.
Instead of forcing codes and
ritual, care-challenged wishes
Look! Watch vivid panorama
of you from early memories,
each significant nexus
along the way
to now.
What is missing from your life
is not meant for others to fulfill.
Love you give yourself
expands 4-fold
You give yourself more to give
You give the world ripples
of your love
You give the eternal spirit within
essential energy
to create what is great
within you
You give to mankind an example
of true humanity.
Do not be afraid to love.
Do not be ashamed to love the
one closest to you.
Learn the meaning of loving charity.
It's not about dying for your sins.
It's fulfilling yourself
through your own loving kindness.
Living a vision of love.

It is all illusory to some senses
while being exactly what it is

(c) July 6, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon

Child of War

My daddy died saving our country.
My mommy cries, so sad and lonely.
But I can see, she's also scared.
Our neighbors spit our names like swears.
I try to be respectful and kind.
They curse out threats, scream "We're not blind,
you people are evil, your faith makes you kill."
Sometimes if I stand, eyes closed, so still
I can hear my daddy say "Be strong,
my beloved child. Those people are wrong.
Wars aren't decreed by Gods from above.
War is the sad fruit of the failure of love."

(c) July 7, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon

Lesson of The Great Depression

The machines stand patiently
ready to act on human command.
Workers expectantly arise
to resume their duties.
Tools, systems, routes, logistics
lined up for service.
Plants to sow and reap; structures
to build, maintain, repair, replace;
commodities to be united with
their markets; music to be played;
enchanting murals to paint;
shows that must go on; coffee
to be made; errands to run;
endless activities and professions
imposing order on entropy.
Teach the curious,
heal the sick or broken,
enforce the law,
tend to the poor.
Society's capillaries clogged by
a powerful voodoo. All is
needing to be done, but stopped
dead or cancerously
receding from living
for want of the magic beans,
the mysterious force of money,
a social construct gone mad,
constricting the flow of life.

(c) July 8, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


Hand over mouth Mensa laughing
Elitism, unlike battling upward,
hand over hand,
always mindful of the lessons.
Courtesy and respect -- never forget.
In courts of old, fair
maids and noble men knew
twas best to hide
animal cunning, raw humanity
in flourishes and restrained manner.
Semaphore signaling
We know the game.
But respect, that is earned.
I respect that live flicker of
power, if I am smart,
I perceive behind the mask
of court or street corner.
Hard knocks do not make a fighter.
Hard times do not make a leader.
Surviving, learning the angles,
enjoining with compassion
along the way, while
keeping that edge keen and deadly,
improve chances
for rising above,
getting on the shortlist.
Neither evolution nor divine design,
but some essence common to both,
and the brilliant stories
dreams are made of.

(c) July 9, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon

Common Ground

They say them liberal critters
Got their heads up in the clouds.
They haven't got a clue to how
to live here on the ground.
They give hand-outs to criminals.
Can't tell a foe from friend.
They're scared of guns and gumption
so ready to amend.
But there's something we agree on
If we're all on common ground
You help folks if they stumble;
don't kick 'em when they're down.

(c) July 12, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon

8th House

Sex and Money
Inflation, deflation
spitting on sacred values.
Once there was balance
Libra and Scorpio united as one.
There was a natural order
of love, respect, deep abiding
loyalties, a code of honour.
Inflation. Manic enterprise,
chasing a dragon to ride
her tail.
Deny caution her voice,
plunging into
prospects of wealth or
Making jest of
what is most precious inside us.
Expecting gold to fall
from magic seeds sown
in moonlight.
Shallowly expecting pardon
for wisdom shunned.
Great eagles fly farseeing,
Succor their young, defend their nests.
On the ground, snakes hiss
in startled anger.
Shedding their skin, they move on
seeking warmth.

(c) July 13, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon

The Beauty

It's all I really care about
Libramoon, you know.
It's not that I'm callous.
I can do compassion with
the best of them.
I can wring out my soul
onto dimestore paper.
The agony, the ecstasy.
Okay, hypomania
but a peak experience is still
standing on treacherous
exhausted, sore, torn here and there
from long arduous journey.
Yet, there is no pain
in ecstatic glory.
My Deity, the view
precious, exhilarating,
sense overwhelmed with pleasure.

(c) July 15, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon

Capricorn Full Moon reflection

Walking the streets, riding
subways --
subterranean consciousness,
ethereal siamese twin
to the everyday.
Shadow and substance
entwined as before
the invasion.
I long to tell you,
yearn to tell you,
but only if you truly listen.
I cannot say these things twice.
Memories seep through,
acquire form.
Stand straight and true
as soldiers or Marines
giving full allegiance
to any who will take that load.
There are Gods lying in excrement
begging relief in the form
of sacrament
potent and deadly.
There are Angels and
Demons waging war,
dice from a grail
foresaging trial or comfort.
Hungry Ghosts wail.
Vampires and Creatures
of the night
seek shelter before the
travails of daytime
break them.
I saw the Morning Star
wink salaciously.
In my kingdom
all manner of creatures
Eagles soar.
Lions roar.
Whales sing.
Humans open a
veiled third eye.
The World rejoices.

(c) July 18, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


Hitting bottom
Broken against rock
shale and limestone
Unable to piece together
warm from cold; new from old.
There are children in the valley
Look at them huddle and scatter
there, in the landscape
over the mantle
hiding in plain site.
Eons and eras hurtle through space.
Mesmerized by the flickering flame,
cites are built, collapse,
rubble to sand.
Princes, despots, CEOs
try their luck,
flex muscles built from
effluvial dna --
blood, sweat, tears
milled from the faithful
and fear-filled.
Tempers rise and fall.
Life and death take turns in
The fall, the anticipation,
ravages eternally.
Touching base, falling into
a plane of rest and re-creation
at the bottom of the sea
at falling's end
There are silent songs to sing
in celebration
on the long trip upward.

(c) July 20, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon

Sunny days,
Moon enchanted evenings
Romantic believings
make life the stuff of dreams.
Savor, from bubbling streams
to musty loam
Bringing what matters home
How does your garden grow?
Shining in nature's grace.

July 22, 2008

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