Friday, April 18, 2008

Back for Earth Week ~ Gaea: A Ritual Performance

It's really a simple story Beings find planet. Beings treat planet badly. Planet goes about her business. Beings start to realize that they need planet, and had best learn to make friends rather than futilely keeping up enmity.

Gaea: A Ritual Performance

layers of imagery, music, tribal drums, futuristic dreams

Gaea was there, in the beginning. Gaea was all. Gaea was wise.
How could we not have seen, in the blindness of pride, of avarice,
of service pledged to false gods?

The journey was long.
The journey was cold.
The journey was lonely.

Asleep in a box with wilderness dreams. Or awake on the watch, wondering what was to come.

Thus it was those false gods bespake us: Out of the cold vastness of space and time,
out of the fear that was all the companion we knew,
out of a need to make it all Someone else's responsibility,
out of a need to believe all would be well for our kind.

Our planet was dying.
We did what we could to survive.
Survival we find
an appopriate end
to any means.
Survival will give us
the time we need
to find a better way
to survive.

The strongest of us,
the proudest of us,
the meanest of us,
would not allow us to die.
We took off in our ship with the barest of plans

to find another land
where our kind could live ...

hybrid children evolved
from refugees
fleeing a hostile star.
Skygods and Earth Mother of ancient lore.

It's time we relinquish fear and hatred, accept Gaea as partner and home
that we may all live and thrive.

The land, when we found her was so warm and inviting.
We felt safe, supported, encouraged to grow.

We ate of her fruit and her herds.
We built with her trees, stone and clay.
We drank from her cool crystal streams which we soiled with our waste.
Gaea was saviour and womb.
We repaid her with rape.

We didn't understand,
thought her merely land,
thought ourselves masters from afar.

Gaea sent storms to bring us to our senses, wild winds and seas.

Gaea tried to shake us off: Earthquakes, Floods, Famine, Plagues
sending us scattering into hiding. Intermingling with her primates, Gaea's children.
Without question or shame, we murdered what we could not steal.
Without honor or remorse, we laid waste to our host, to our adopted home,
then cursed her for not giving more.

By accident or design, chimera adapting to Gaea's marketplace creating
new ways to define our origins from outer space
We lied to our halfling children, denigrated their Gaean kin,
twisted their virtues into a false concept that we called "sin."

What Gaea did to us? Cruel, evil, in need of the whip.
we seal over her bounty
into mad parody of Mother Ship.
Unforgiving of the mess of living, the miracles of life.
In our ignorant pride we gave ourselves law to decide
propriety over fate
in our minds
mother love
into a mirror of hate.

Frozen in fear and rage, children swept out in the storm,
trapped in a self-made cage we had hoped to protect us from harm.

Gaea, we cry, why do you treat us so angrily?
What will it take for us to wake up and see it is we who are wrong?
To hear and be aware of Gaea's song singing in our blood?
To learn the cycles, the seasons, the reasons for fire, wind and flood?

To redefine our race, to find out that our place is here among our Gaean kin?

The telling of new tale must begin.

Gaea opens to sunshine to ease our agitation
Easy winds, easy gushing of summer rain
Feeding the greedy young grains,
growing along the plains, the flowers of the storm.
Feeding the beasts of the field,
continuing the cycle, as all is revealed.

Love is the web,
craftily spun by great mother spider,
Gaea's familiar,
weaving magestic grace
no longer concealed. It was never our place
to control, nor others' to steal.

Gaea creates in intricate arrangements,
feeding us all of us all, a transformative stew.
So much energy wasted; painful lies to find our way through
our beings to create such beautiful
children, reaching out to become and be free,
enjoying our destiny,
as Gaea's beloved.

Arising in the circle, giving voice to pain -- grateful to Gaea's grace, dancing in her cleansing rain,
we sing in voice united:

It would be so nice (paradise)
You and I
Floating in the sunlight
Ready to break free
To be
Exactly who we are.

(c) April 9, 2006 Laurie Corzett

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
Embracing in fields of daffodils
Happy to be
imperfect beings
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

(c) March 22, 2008 Laurie Corzett/libramoon


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
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
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
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,
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
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
Inside the flame,
space between molecules
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


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

at the beginning of the
21st Century
before everything changes
Well-fed plains to
adventurous peaks to
unending seas
Large in bounty, beauty,
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
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

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Marching forward

It's as if all the peoples of the world are standing off, neighbor against neighbor, in some kind of massive power struggle. Perhaps we can learn to turn that energy around, let it go towards solving our common problems, we, all of us creatures upon the Earth.

In a society in which quick fix, running through fields of daisies, pharmaceuticals are touted for every ill, how dare we be shocked to find people turning to drugs? What? Difficult lifestyle changes? (Even if they are actually much easier when you turn your mind around) No, just take these twice a day and forget about eating because all your food money must be spent on drugs. After all, it's big pharm profits that's paying your pensions. But I digress. The point being, in that magical time in which our early perceptions are forming our view of how the world works, the big drug pushers make sure we get hooked. Then they foster a whole hullabaloo about wild-eyed illicit addicts, to knock out the competition.

I have been struggling with a concept which really is about the antithesis of struggle. All the goals of happiness, compassion, even abundance and success, result from a natural consequence of spiritual growth, of becoming in tune with one's true, natural path. It can't be forced. It can only be grown into.

It's not even about not wanting. It's about all being available when you are ready to see it.

I tend to relate to people on the 'net (and in rl when I can get away with it) on the basis of our interactions with each other. I'm not particularly interested in externalities -- though I love a good story with lots of details. If people want to take the opportunity when no one can see them, or know what isn't on Google, to try out other ways of being, I applaud their creativity. If people are mean, abusive, naturally nasty, well, there you go -- doesn't matter if they're Joe or Carol or whatever. My take on all this hullaballoo about keeping kids safe from internet predators is hey, don't let your kids meet anyone you haven't. It should be clear enough to set rules about what is appropriate or inappropriate information to exchange. In fact, it's a whole lot less dangerous than any schoolyard. Yes, it's good to be suspicious if you are wary about sharing any kind of information. It's better to be suspicious appropriately.

Someone recently made a suggestion to me that has me thinking. They said that when a Christians tries to convert you, it is because they sincerely believe that what they are offering is something so incredibly wonderful everyone must want it if they were only informed. They have no concept that you may have your own beliefs that suit you quite well, and that you may find their exhortations disrespectful.

I agree with those who say Rev. Wright speaks the truth. Yet, Senator Obama also speaks the truth. They each have their own place: preacher and politician. These are different arenas. Which is part of my problem with the whole brouhaha about Samantha Power and Reverend Wright -- they are not politicians, but are being tarred and branded as "surrogates" because they were trying to act on their beliefs and work for a politician they believe is our best hope as a nation (as do I). Senator Obama is doing his job. He is working the crowd for a new integration, a new unity, to bring America together. To do this, he has to dispense with the distraction of all this backbiting and baiting. He has walked that fine line -- saying he vehemently disagrees with the anti-American sentiment the public has been put in the position of perceiving as Rev. Wright's, while still showing admiration and respect for the Reverend, his friend.

We attack the status quo all the time. There are always voices, in the wilderness, on the airwaves, on the soapboxes in the town square, ranting, reasoning, revolutionizing, even quietly explaining, or creating controversial art, or enjoying romps of monkey warfare. It is all around, all the time. Yet, bad things continue to happen; bad leaders with their media coterie and manipulating operatives keep us at each others' throats, confused, angry, ineffective. The point about Senator Obama is not that he is perfect, or unaffected by mainstream beliefs, or some kind of messiah. The point is, he is a politician, manipulating political power and conventions, talking and walking among the pols; yet, his message is one of unity and power of/by/for the people, and personal/community responsibility, and taking care of each other. We need the man for the message, for the megaphone, for the media massage in a different direction. Yes, Ron Paul has a wonderful message as well. I am happy he is distributing it. What this country (this world) needs is better messengers letting us all understand that it is okay to open our minds and create better possibilities, better choices, better leaders and better ways of being led.

When I speak of unity here, I speak in terms of class, which is the underlying basis of race issues. I am not saying Senator Obama (or for that matter any politician) is some kind of silver bullet against class differences. I am saying the message can bolster the people who are working for change, can move the national rhetoric past the blame game and get to actual solutions by those who want better for us all, rich, poor, and growing middleway. Perhaps I may interject a bit of philosophy which shows that wealth is not about money. Money, in fact, is a fantasy. Wealth is about using resources effectively for the benefit of the user and the social system. To reach this way of working, of course, a new paradigm of society needs to emerge. No matter how many of us are thinking and writing and protesting and doing what we do to create social change, the entrenched attitudes aided by mass media hypnosis will hamper those efforts and keep the greater majority caught up in stupid hostilities. Senator Obama's message is real, despite what compromises of realpolitik he has found expedient. He does offer hope, in a very palpable and effective sense. IMHO, we who champion change in the direction of that positive paradigm of government and economic in the best interests of people and our common resources would do well to attach our banners to the Obama kite tale and merge our goals, movements, understandings and efforts, thus making sure that the true power President Obama wields is about us and our ideals, because all the monied interests have to offer is (and perhaps not even as the economic winds shift) money. We have the will, the ideas, the energy and the positive direction to offer.

Please do understand, the power is only not ours because we don't effectively take it. GWB would never have wrought such harm if he had been watched and curbed by we the people. But we seem to prefer the infighting.

If mothers are invisible it's because we make ourselves so. Why should the kid be so impressed that you're on the phone or talking with guests or otherwise busy when they have real concerns. Do these mothers see them, not "the kids", but who they really are, what they are looking for? Women do get so caught up in the servant role, taking care, in the background, making sure everything is as it should be for everyone around. This is keeping ourselves invisible. If we want a say, we need to speak up. If we want our kids to see us as real, individual, human beings -- not just "Mom" -- we have to relate to them on that level, honestly, passionately, telling them who we are and listening to their revelations about themselves, and helping them to bridge the gap of experience. No. The job of mother is not to be the silent servant, the self-sacrificed. The job of mother is to teach our children to be their most, their best, their brightest in the way that kids learn best, by modeling that philosophy.

I have been working with an inner image of Hecate, the underworld, ancient, self-empowered goddess of birth/death/life. As I am understanding, her lesson is about becoming one's true self, unafraid of social appropriation because not in need of permission to totally embrace one's own magick. To begin to find this inner core (unless, I suppose, one is lucky enough to have never lost it), one needs to go through, truly feel and accept, all the pain and miseries of one's life, to learn that these are not what life is about, not punishments, though sometimes warnings, but just an interpretation of what is. A very long time ago, on a cold and windy winter night, a friend told me: open up to the cold and feel it, don't resist -- it is really warm. On those nights when I remember and try it, it really is.

People do need to be encouraged to speak up their gifts of ideas, and compliments. I am discouraged by all the nit picking, arrogant naysaying, nasty comments meant to discourage communication. It hurts. It does not help. It is, in effect, stupid -- bad for the actor and the acted upon, and all of us. I have sent around an article about the politics of human dignity because it struck me as finally someone getting beyond all the petty bs and looking at what politics ought to be about if it is to have human utility.

It really pushes my crazy buttons when useful, mostly benign plants are called evil, villified, so those using them have to worry not only about illnesses and dis-eases they are trying to treat, but about the possibility of being thrown into prison, while seriously dangerous substances are touted on the tv ads.

My tentative solution: legalize them all with major warning labels, general public education, and other harm reduction techniques. If people do feel they have been harmed by another's product, we have this marvelous invention called the civil suit (even class action civil suits).

You do know that actions that are dangerous or otherwise criminal already have laws under which they can be prosecuted, regardless of drug use.

Sadly we have not honored those who gave us the civil rights movement, whose brave fight brought us all to a better place in this country. These are not old dinosaurs, but grandparents, mentors, sages, who have lived through the battles and given us their all. Clinton and Obama are practiced politicians with a big prize to win. If they go for blood with each other, that's just politics. When true heroes are maligned for just another go at cynicism and soundbites, that is tragic. I only wish you mongers of hate and disgust could see how you are destroying the country you claim to love.

I don't judge anyone by externalities. I love or not based purely on personal feelings of attraction/attachment/attunement.

sometimes it's necessary to go through the pain to get beyond it

I don't care about what corporate groups or entrenched powers want to support Senator Obama's candidacy. That's just politics. If you are running for President of the United States, in the US Senate, or a local magistrate, politics is the office game, and you play it. (Come to think of it, politics is the game in most offices, and we all play it to get by, to get ahead, to get our job done.) I care that Senator Obama has the support, still, of people like Samantha Power and Rev. Jeremiah Wright -- who personally know him and what he is about. I care that the message is not about politics as usual, or even cleaning up as usual, or hate this or that group (for those who fear demagogues or fascist incitement), or pie in the sky. It is a cogent, reasonable, let's hang together or we'll surely hang separately, hey we know how to do it right so let's make it happen, appeal to commonality, commonsense, commonwealth. You act as if we are electing God, or Emperor of All who can waive a wand or send forth a commandment and all is as He orders. That's not what a President is. He is a politician, a negotiator, a dealmaker, a voice exhorting the nation to excel, a commander in chief watching over his troops and the mission but backed by the rest of us, who really ought to be doing our own watching over the public policies and taking care of the business of citizenry.

It occurs to me here: why not label these traditions, not in the gender-divisive matriarchy/patriarchy, but as religions based on love/life or hate/death? Of course all of these are included in any tradition to some extent as taking in the experience of the worshippers. However, what we seem to decry in the patriarchal religions is the warlike, top down hierarchical, fear and anger mongering, supreme rule; while we seem to look to the matriarchal faiths for more co-creative, life-affirming, equalitarian, win-win kinds of sentiments.

Based on personal experience, I think sometimes loneliness is (like pain or discomfort often) an opening, an irritation to bring us to our truest, most reliable, everpresent friend -- ourself. What other could be such a perfect companion? We have the same likes, dislikes, pleasures, amusements. We can feel so clearly and commiserate with the disapointments, agonies, defeats, dismays. We are multitudes within ourselves -- all the bits of memories, personality parts, inner conflicts and changes, to give a diversity of views and possible ways of going forward. We are never alone if we make the effort to truly know, love, befriend, embrace ourselves. Added bonus: we learn how to be a truer friend, a more authentic voice, a less needy participant -- qualities we can now share with the others who touch us when they do.

I don't think it is so much about things happening for a reason as the whole being an opening process. Thus, each "experience" moves forward allowing the experiences behind to follow forward, opening a greater universe of experience. It's not cause and effect, but a bit by bit progressing view of a greater picture. Then we, with conscious reason, draw up the chart and apply the labels.

Obviously, we do not have direct democracy in the United States. We have kind of a hodge-podge actually. There's a lot of plutocracy, some representative democracy, a bit of constitutional republic, mob rule here and there, and various forms of fascism, socialism, liberalism, theocracy, hyperbole, and imperialism. Where we have the greatest potential for democracy is not in the federal elections, but in local politics where everyone can actually see and know the issues and people involved. Imho, the greatest potential for national democracy is not about elections but what happens after -- how well we police our "representatives" and how we deal with problem-solving on the ground, individually.

Personally, I would like to see Roe v Wade overturned and a new legal theory applied which gives First Amendment rights to decisions made between a Dr. and patient. This kind of issue is not one in which government rule should hold sway. If you don't believe that abortion should be allowed, don't do it (either as Dr. or patient), scream your loudest when you perceive someone is listening, make it easier to be a parent and a child with real pro-life policies involving financial and social support for raising kids, volunteer as a counselor for people in the position to need to make these decisions in their lives, make a difference -- not a law.

I sip of the rolling world
drunken rhythms
burning my throat like acrid
Bleeding into my eyes
bits of paper, random electrons,
news of the world.