Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Stop panicking


Don't panic
world-eating fog encroaches
no chance to breathe in this miasma
gasping for something clean
to inhale
release
gently
into nothingness
no trace of panic
around which to coalesce
fear, malice
let all pain bleed off
into airless mist
relax, restless thrashing
sinking bit by bit
into silence
now, wasn't that easy?
slowly, without emotion
watch the fog roll by
easing into serene skies



breathe while reading
Living River
If you're doing it right
It flows.
Worthwhile work
is work that flows
feels good
feels real.
Impediments may abound,
stones and reefs to flow around
or through.
Pick up bits of wisdom
on the way.
If you're doing it right,
no need to delay.
Time's neither fast nor slow.
Every placement relates
just so.
Beautiful day,
lilting lazy river ...
Entrapped, entranced
Who is to be gained
by loosening the ties?
What you remains
released into surprise?
Feel, beneath your eyes.
Ease into the rhythm.
Blessed familiarity --
heartbeat through pulsing memory.
Breathe, connect with the real --
the gift of air, of skin,
of night, of chance encounters,
of ringing melodies
strong enough
to call to potency
your most precious name.
The I of my inner dimensions speaks truth, infused in beauty
lives as multiplicity,
cares implicitly,
always somewhere aware.
Breathe
Listen
See
Playmate child,
impish angel’s protective wing.
Ethereal, diamonds sing
light bell-clear at-one
alive in the air
Tune In
Just relax
Don't think about a thing
Just relax
Close your eyes and feel serene
Just relax
Feel the loosening of all your cares
Look behind your eyes,
Become aware
of the miracle that
you really are
Acts of Magick
If it is to be done,
We must go out and do it
Action, once begun,
Has beauty and power to it
Aiming true to course
Needs thought and reflection
Feed movement from the source
Of our yearn toward perfection
The play is never done
Each and every one
Performing through their part
Reinvents our start
So join the song, and sing your tune
Dance strong beneath a rousing Moon
Another day, another seed
Bursts out into the Sun
Ouroboros Comes to Embrace Sentience
Wake up
Wake up
Wake up
A new age is coming
A new way of being is a 'borning
Be alive
Don't believe
Be Alive
More Peace
In the center
a quiet stream
for reflection
ebbing outward
gentle ripples
bathed in sunshine ease
further out, at the shoreline
dramas, comedic, tragic, rhapsodic,
full of song and dance
for reflection
Second Star to the Right
Traveling beyond Persephone's garden
on the etheric threshold
'tween life and death.
Taking an oblique path at the crossroads
onto an accessway
along the axis of bliss.
It's not a road on which
the dramas fade.
It's not about a numbing block
to pain.
Drama unfolds --
my chemistry responds exquisitely.
Touch is just touch;
sensation translated information.
All the appointed tasks,
routine errands of the everyday,
little pauses along the bliss path
allowing me to breathe the scent
of endless possibilities
as path and consciousness expand
blissfully aware.
Basho's Footprint
Seek what's been sought by the wise in texts of glowing poetry, in deep-
singed blues,
in crypt-hewn runes,
in deepest breath turned inward, surprising miles of memory,
in whispered library words
by monks, solitary,
in solidarity with Muse.
Wander through all time, e-motion, all need for meaning.
Seek where your living leads
expecting not, nor pleading for
rejecting not, nor bleeding for
with eyes, with mind, with hands
unbound
Body Language
Teach Peace
Dancing in the classroom
Body wisdom
Reaches through neural pathways
regenerates whole to whole
soul to soul
touching life
exactly
I feel you in my mind, my spine
Feel me dancing
elongating muscles
extending connections
Meditation
Sitting, meditating
on self-hallowed ground
surrounded and succored
by the spirit of life.
It isn't easy
turning on the tide
being the talk of the town
the laughing stock
the example for errant schoolboys,
don't want to end up like him.
Yet no thing is easier.
Moving with the rhythm
natural, unafraid.
Beat by beat,
sometimes a song appears.
It sings with me and the crickets,
the cicadas, the bees and birds
and chittering creatures.
We dance a little jig,
breathing, breathing
inspiration, exhalation, exhilaration.
Bit by bit the sunshine
infuses with my cells.
I am opening. I am learning.
I am being made new.
All it takes is total dedication,
not a renouncing,
not a denying,
not what one would call a discipline,
just total awe and gratitude
for sweet layer unto exquisitely beautiful layer
as each is revealed.
Searching the skies for eternity
Opening upward, onward, out of words
Yet still bound
Sentience of form persists
Feel the glory,
the honor,
the fear
over eons emerge
as bliss

Year of Prophecies - Eclipse edition




Jung and Yang


Archetypes, subterranean schemes,
walk city streets, ride subways as commoners.
Shadow of Substance.
Ethereal siamese twin,
to the mundane, every day.
I long to tell you,
yearn so I loudly whisper,
but only if you really listen.
I cannot say these things twice.
Memories seep through,
acquire form.
Stand straight and true
as soldiers or Marines
swearing full allegiance
to any who will take that load.
There are Gods foaming in excrement,
begging relief in the balm of sacrament
potent and deadly.
Angels and Demons wage sacrosanct war;
dice from a grail
foresage trial or comfort.
Hungry Ghosts moan and wail.
Vampires and beasts
of desperation
seek shelter before
travails of daytime
break them.
Morning Star
winks salaciously.
In wild’s kingdom
all manner of creatures
thrive, entwine as before
the invasion.
Eagles soar.
Lions roar.
Whales sing.
Humans open
veiled third eye.



Divination

Tonight, the quiet sleep of Heaven
blankets tenderly, affirms bliss as promise.
Angel song, encoded blinks of highest aspiration, leaps,
wafts kissed smiles, clear skies. Peace shimmers.
Long, piteous, songs of buried shame, spite and spittle flung like pennies;
flagrant frenzied relief upon unclean graves...
Who makes this call? Who answers?
Tonight crows, patient vultures stand at crossed walls; they
have no leader.
Standing, too, are mute trumpeteers, stranded infantry.
Twilight, trace forecolours of dawn, silence deepens,
counterstroke to what is to come.
“Strike!” Bold reds, bloodied swords brand these walls
seen crumbling as light extends.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

full moon anticipation


Blush peek of coyly veiled Moon
in striated cloud seafoam giant arms.
Velvet meadow.
Majestic fields cloak the sky.
Shine, Moon.
Don't be shy.
Bathe my dreams in wishes.
Conjure
exploratory vistas.



Opening Night
Empty branches yearn for
darkening breeze.
Eerie singing echoes
from the horizon.
Slower days, longer nights
made for reflection ...
And wind sings, trees dance,
stars laugh in the moonlight.



Masked Lady Moon shines
into my room,
speaks of fantastic adventure.
Dare I question her fulsome
abundance?
I a masked gypsy
painted in gloom,
a taste for wry humour,
impossible promises,
resplendent terrain.
A woman insane,
taken in by the Moon.
Fair sister, far sparkling cold.
I have no home to offer comfort
but that clear, quiet salvation
hiding like Moonlight
unmasked in my mind



Moonmirror

The many faces of the Moon
reflecting starlight in her many moods
Entrance the sky
My mortal eyes want to believe
adventures of myth and mind
Tell me, hoary elders,
rejuvenated for your fling
in sacred moonlight
Dancing from your castles
to mystic mountain
legendary glades
Tell me why I should believe
in magic, in codes and
spells and sacrifice
Is the wisdom of the wise
so constrained?
My species may be blind to
true eternity
but we mutate,
find and define
new ways to see
Belief is far too limiting
for me
Dear Sister Moon, separate entity
from birth, entwined
still with Mother Earth
Patterns re-cycling reveal
what we regard to be real
is but reflection
Face to face to face, fluid
to change



Lunation

Mist passes the Moon
as she moves through the clouds
trying to reach me
so far below.
How can I know
it is me she desires?
My mind is on fire,
moonstruck, some might say.
Flying along the Milky Way
fueled by moonshine.
She flashes her shadowy eye
through cloud-studded sky
and I feel fine.



lunacy

accept my prayer, o Luna fair
accept my sins as payment
you know I only live to serve
I offer up my truest worth
my humble feet still scraping dirt
but luxurious my raiment
as I dance and strum my mandolin
laugh and shimmy again and again
work up my mojo limb by limb
it's all for your entertainment
to laugh and howl by the light of the Moon
break the chain to sunlight's ruin
of madness fine, my holy boon
as fine as Luna's hair, as stark as Luna's stare;
beatifically embrace entrainment
swirl as moonbeams
overwhelm the air



Scrying on the Moon

By sibylline light
images I recognize,
creviced captures of my life.
I know her judgment to be my own.
"Nourished by Moon rivers
mythical cavern blooms
unseen by sunlight
glow green."
Thus she sets the scene;
becomes the prophecy.
"Purest white simplicity
curved to suggest fragility
faith fed maiden ready for
plucking,
given in bondage to womanly woes,
hard rows to hoe
for that human hug through
crying of night.
Fate of mortal soldiers, sacrificed to lust.
Seeking relief, beg for the boon of drama
high adventure
sneaking into sad hotels
for a fix or a tumble.
Laughs,
deadly play,
danger, a real chance.
Barefoot in the snow
icy roads
winds so strong
I could not make you hear.
I thought you were my destiny.
Crazy thoughts, far from clear;
but I believed
song lyrics from Saturnine deities
would not lie, leave me
dying, fading into winter's grey
drifting clouds,
endless sorrow endured for naught.
Lost on this careless corner,
dreaming of oblivion, intent on visions
like rain
tapping against eternity's
vast windowpane.
Scenic serenity.
Nature's gradations of green
soothe tired eyes,
trembling nerves, throbbing veins.
Slivers of moonlight reflect
in withered refrains, unearth secrets
embedded in song
effervescing through cool pure air
cleansing the uprising nestling
set aflame
resurrected
tempered mettle,
pure, wise, tested
engorged with the will
to rise"

Friday, November 9, 2012

The People's Bailout Nov. 15


http://www.lepoissonrouge.com/lpr_events/peoples-bailout/

The People’s Bailout, a variety show and telethon to benefit the 99%

The event will be livestreamed at
www.rollingjubilee.org Join Strike Debt for an updated version of an old classic, the telethon, to launch The Rolling Jubilee, a campaign that buys debt for pennies on the dollar and does away with it. Instead of collecting the debt, we will abolish it and help free the debtors!