Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Full Moon reflection

walk city streets, ride subways as commoners --
subterranean consciousness,
ethereal siamese twin
to the everyday.
Shadow and substance
entwine as before
the invasion.
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
giving full allegiance
to any who will take that load.
There are Gods foaming in excrement
begging relief in the form
of sacrament
potent and deadly.
Angels and
Demons wage sacrosanct war,
dice from a grail
foresaging trial or comfort.
Hungry Ghosts wail.
Vampires and Creatures
of the night
seek shelter before
travails of daytime
break them.
Morning Star
winks salaciously.
In wild’s kingdom
all manner of creatures
Eagles soar.
Lions roar.
Whales sing.
Humans open a
veiled third eye.
The World rejoices.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Gabrielle Roth: February 4, 1941 -October 22, 2012


Obituary: Gabrielle Roth
Gabrielle Roth: February 4, 1941 -October 22, 2012


"She started the 5Rhythms movement in the 1960s and dedicated over 50 years to teaching and sharing the power of movement and dance to heal ones body and soul."

Enter Dancing

That liminal space
Between my body and the airwaves
Creates a dance.
There is fluid form
There is salvation,
Thunder from the heavens,
Tears and lightening,
A host, a feast, a conflagration.
There is laughter.
The dance takes me up
In her motherly embrace,
Holds me softly,
Listens closely,
Takes in all my sorrow,
Lets me fly.

Body Language

Teach Peace
Dancing in the classroom
Body wisdom
Reaches through neural pathways
regenerates whole to whole
soul to soul
touching life
I feel you in my mind, my spine
Feel me dancing
elongating muscles
extending connections


Weave into the fabric of a tribe of artistic dancers.
Fall under the spell of pure magic.
Silent night, peace and cold
Imbue me with music
In ecstasy, I dance to the stars.

"10 things to do to draw up creative energy"

worry with logic
delve into feelings
play with words and meanings
take a play journey to impossible possibilities
web surf; idea surf; ride a wild wave
face down a demon to discover your other faces
read of random wisdom

Let us join in dance
The world becomes a mystery
an ecstasy, a history
of all who dance
for the joy
for the chance
of pure enchantment
in midst of the everyday
in this instant every wish
is granted
in the play
-- body with bliss --
of celebration
So join the song, and sing your tune
Dance strong beneath a rousing Moon
Another day, another seed
Bursts out into the Sun

Tuesday, October 23, 2012


Here at the bar again, bar nothing to me.

Here at the bar again, bar nothing to me.
Early Scorpio warm, warm village 2 pm poetry reading
at Chumley's
Searching for bargains, found a Paul Goodman book
with cat and dog and baby photographs
to give to Cindy
a gift of love for a fragile child
Still afright from last night's heavy scene
Wherein the police took my man away again,
This time with my blessing and accomplicement.
. . . A man is a hard thing.
Also a drag on my developmental aspirations
When all he does is cry and threaten
Big Brute Violence
To storm my sensibilities.
(What's frustrating is he doesn't hear me cry.)
Laughing in the park we loved
Crying in the night we parted
Oh, beseech I, god above
Why must you leave me broken-hearted
(and I know he'll be returning with more disregards
and diatribes and possibly pistols drawn to fire.)
So I sit here in the bar, again
Drinking sweet Kahlua and awaiting the poetry
Taking a respite, you see.
Oh, god, for this while,
Bar nothing to this troubled child
(for child I feel, though woman grown)
Let peace alone assail me.

Sister Scorpio

Black as hate; white and bloodless
shrieking Fury
punishing Saint.
Your patient, erratic torture
has left me broken,
bleeding torrents of pain
unable to move
unable to sleep
or engage in
polite discourse.
Yet you were never satisfied.
It was not me you wished to sacrifice.
I was merely inconvenient,
or too convenient.
Dressed in a goatsuit,
queued up to be driven to slaughter,
how could I expect compassion,
fellow feeling?
But it was the Executioner's blade
I expected,
not frenzied repetition of
back stabbings, epithets,
steel-wielding rage.
We could have been sisters,
giggling secrets in the schoolyard,
smoking pcp in the girls' room,
shooting up the classroom,
dying in each other's arms.


The forest is old
obscured in ghosts and mysteries
Come out in the wild night with me
dressed in the stars
Serenades from the Moon
intoxicate air aged in adventure
Exult with me in pleasure
Far from decay of leaves, sad savagery
That strange stained light in the darkness
Silence, a pause in cycling
Tender reflection in the settling sky
a throne to reign
weary tantrum waves below
I can relate
the deals reality baits me with
so overrated
I'm left unsated
staring at fate's rear
Now escapes me
running into future skyscapes
holding yestereves
stiff and strained
closer than this moment
as it slips
into one more
I seek that honest sigh,
that joining smile that art
of distilling meaning
Pictographs along the wheel
to distract from
its unceasing
an instant
surrounded in space
demanded in time
tells the reaper
is in the eye