Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Walpurgis Knocked

We born other than imperial, torn into what we are told is real
without power to protect ourselves from venal brothers of the order
spreading hatred like any venereal disease
We no longer need to meet you cowering on our knees
Karma's a hot potent bitch unschooled in mercy
Witches reclaiming noble heritage, reframing herstories will prevail
Though born and forced to serve in our master's jail,
lost and lonely midst the masses, masked to fit expected forms
but it's just for a while, while we learn, become what we were from the start
each a creature alive to the beat of our own-reasoned heart
Ever After
Pan, old ugly friend
screams "You're alive!"
And what say I?
Retreat into tribal fairytales.
Witch Waif Warrior
Who emerges from the
cold dark water?
Disgusting wounds ignite,
command presence.
Making every pretense to appear
normal, sincere
(not veering on the edge)
(not dangerously explosive)
"Don't mistake my weakness
for that loathsome foe
we daren't name."
overwhelms homeostasis
Crawling, mewling on unswept floor
Unable to gain equilibrium enough
to walk away
Lock the door; hide behind barricades
made from
blood guts gore
human remains after they are
vermified, defiled
My core cries
"One sweet kiss. A taste,
sense memory
stasis of desire."
I leap whole
into eternal fire
beyond pain; burning sensation.
Pan smiles

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Full Moon Harvest

I could
if I willed it
go inward
beyond the cognition’s sphere.
Infinite bliss
the whole of the real
I know, I feel.
Eternity pulls me,
grasps my ambient air
into awareness.
All ways my destiny.
Incandescent transcendence,
resplendent artist's delight.
in these moments
stuck in migrating vibrations
attached to this Earth,
mired (but not beyond mirth,
cosmic inspiration)
throes and woes,
undefined transformation,
laborious birth
I am dignified, made whole.
Giving service to vision
corroded, corrupted,
yet shining below that surface
I see
and uncover the light.

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.

With a word, the stranger gives a hand
An image stronger than the sound
Water falls upon the land
A smile peeks out from a frown
An eclipse returns dark to noon
As men's minds walk upon the Moon

Eclipse Scrying

Where's the fun
in hiding in the eye
of the hurricane?
I want to be bodysurfing
the storm,
madly dancing in the rain,
cast off from restrictive form ...
I want to taste sweet grapes
break crisply;
Embark on a journey of ecstasy
to be all I have
thought to be;
Yet safely reside
in a place deep inside
away from the prying norm.
I want romance in the sense of
sensation inviting and free.
I want a chance to believe in magic.
And I want what I want to be
crazily in love with me.

Eclipse Dream

Jump! Jittery. Nauseous claustrophobia . . .
l e t t i n g g o s l o o o w
Whoosh in a leap faster than my breath can catch me
moving dizzily, half-blinded, out of focus
moving along a tree-shadowed path.
Enchanted forest?
smoke curling upward
gingerbread cottage in the woods
may I rest here, recoup my losses?
Savory soup simmers over the hearth fire.
Shadows fall over the corners
yet the center of the room
is surprisingly clean and polished.
I sit in mantra embraced
by soft silky wings.
Outside winter is falling.
When I awaken from my trance
planting season will begin.
The wild rains of spring
have caught me napping.
They catch me up in torrents
swinging me along
a cradle in the sea.
I am dreaming mazes
wondrous pageantry
woven into ivy walls.
The sea surrounds me.
I acquiesce to secret ceremony
believing the earth to be my home.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Earth Day 2013


The Earth screams
People die before their time
or never get much life
Species die, their music silenced
Crazy theories of wealth
belie obligation or simply seeing
the laws of consequence
Scream Earth!
Pierce the cosmos with your
terrible cry
Acid rain burning through gold

night blooms

Come, say I
Enjoy the desert night blooms --
rare, exquisite, alive.
Quiet, the primeval cold,
parched, freeze-dried.
No purposeful future
The stories I spin ...
Old, alien
unmarked steps upon the Earth.
no meaning
no warmth
I walk primeval, exquisite landscape
dry, old, eternal
to enjoy the blooming.

Sacred Geology

Rich earth
decomposing life
imbuing myriad layers
of sacred spirit
Memories upon memories
scarred into the land
making it holy
a bounty of beauty
irrigated by tears
and less voluntary bodily fluids
living loam
luscious fruits
giving back what was taken
Partaking of the feast
we are blessed
renewed in holy essence
in the fullness of time
the cycle reclaims
all that we are
that we may become
yet more richly

Sun greets Earth
a hearty slap
hot and sassy

Mothers' Night

cascading shards
echoes falling
"It's our calling."
Rape of Earth,
hot spurts of words
savage knives
Abiding Mothers,
sacred and mundane
twist into harridan
cold stars
wail, hurtling waves
Sad, old, crust of ages
sliced, screwed, carved up for profit
"It's not the color of the skin,
the culture of the smile"
the scent of danger,
the inborn stranger --
all excuses for Us (superior)
and Them (inferior)
"They are not like we;
but lower curs."
we may harm with unfettered glee
Cursed to be cut to our requirement.
Borders clear
"Here, fear fences in
our livelihood and wives."
Leave THEM to putrid pits
cunning jabs,
our pleasure.
Thus, all treasure that might regale,
heal, reveal true worth,
of man and Earth
sold for pittance of potash
to dance a weary jig

Earth’s Sign

Under the Wesak Moon
Where the Buddha crossed the quarters,
graciously approached liminal wisdom
Our Lady Goddess guides
We who dance in shadow
We who turn the Earth,
bless the seed,
feel awakened in darkness,
feel the turning sacred, consecrated
to the between air of transformation
where enlightenment,
eternal bliss
encounter life
Burst of joy quietly encountered
Fly my eyes into such belief
Where sweet Earth heroically replies
to my pleas for splendorous relief
just over the border
moving through the periphery
pattern-seeking epicenter runs within
swirling cosmos fire, flood, cerebral hemorrhage,
herded into healing net
The love of love
The hope for blinding light that bathes
all cares with caring

Saturday, April 20, 2013

question authority - 420

Why are drugs part of common culture?
Why is weed part of youth culture?
Kids aren’t held down and force fed pot smoke until they are hooked. It’s a great deal more than the simplistic label “peer pressure” implies.
It is what we do, cultural norms.
People want to get high together. If we saw that not a sin but a normal desire, why not educate ourselves, our kids in what these chemicals do?
Not “no-no” negative emphasis, but useful information so we could best enjoy the sought for pleasure with the least to no unwanted consequences.
Why not be honest about what we want, who we are, rather than playing these horrific games of virtuous denial?
We are safest, sanest, happiest, truly dealing with these realities.


Friday, April 5, 2013

Rape Culture

logic of rape culture

I don't know.
Would it be morally acceptable to destroy a person's mind while they are asleep,
because, you know, they'll never know they had one?
Would it be morally just fine to exchange people's organs while they are unconscious without consent or prior knowledge,
because they still have just as good working parts?
Is there such a thing as personal integrity, boundaries that make individual beings, complete with self-control,
that define a self to be respected?
Or are we just a bunch of random animals,
subject to the moral precepts that rule
hierarchy obsessed self-proclaimed reasonable men?