Saturday, August 19, 2017

eclipse mania

between the eclipses
 
 
unblessed
with necessities of success
lost, adrift in prophecy
 
A confluence of ripples
scoops up objects of prophetic reclamation
(seen smaller in the glass-eye of science)
readies to set off more forceful expression
Elemental reaction
Metamagick metamorphoses
any body’s guess
Smooth glide out of cavernous hiding
into buoyant seas
Gala release to navigate (no hesitation) past history’s
sunken shore
— to explore, forward
— captivated, not captured
Fleet from soul to feet, swim enraptured
immersed in the only delightfully lighted path
Form flows with function
at last, riding unprismed waves
gracefully, recreated
as dance
 
 
 
ON THE THRESHOLD
 
 
before the eclipse
before the dawn
before we are given our missions,
sent forward in time
we must be ready
without map or guidebook to prepare
we must rise to the challenge
endure the patience to exercise
control over every capillary,
every synapse,
every atom of our being
 
it’s not in the believing, but
the seeing
a better world needs a new kind
of ware
be a ware
for peace, for change,
for consciousness
before the wake
 
 
 
Liminal Spaces
 
 
Twilight, the wee hours,
the dark of the moon
liminal spaces,
places where magic reigns,
crossroads, crises, cusps.
 
There is static on the radio.
A song
my voice was singing
taking flight to surround me,
the sound of music,
a comforter of down
to ease my soul.
 
I’ve been trying to define a taste,
a sense of bittersweet and salt.
I’ve been trying to find a trace
a footprint in the desert,
a sound, a scent,
a memory.
I’ve been trying to find a trace of me,
a piece to fit the puzzle,
my contribution to the grand design.
Seeking in the shadows,
the space between
myth and matter,
those places words
cannot define.
On those insubstantial plains
of myst and awe,
the stuff of dreams,
threshold of wonder,
creation begins.
 
 
 
 
 
 


The moon is blue and dreaming Cry all my children to sleep In conquest dreams we deem to rule In darkest halls we plot in torment In empty caverns we deify glory Dance, again, dance for freedom Dance my children to sober dreaming Of valor and honor and color and pain Dance and cry and strive again To hold a mass and state the Name Call forth my demons from sleep The songs of old and runes of yore The empty words we've learned to score The high and low and even Listen and you'll hear them moan It's dark and dirty here below The emptiness can drive you To a place you ought not go You'll die in horror screaming Cry all my children to sleep The moon is blue and so are you You'll hear its song so clearly And discount it all to dreams And when you wake, you'll wonder Why you're screaming Why you ache in places you can't feel Why your work and world don't seem so real Why the voices in your head are screaming And you'll count the phases of the moon And wander in the night without direction And keep a silent vigil in your secret heart And turn quickly round the corners, Lest someone see you And when the curse is cast, you'll hear it spoken Without bothering to look for the absent speaker And when the moon has turned its face To other dreamers You'll see a vision overpower the sky And answer . . . when you ask it "why?" The moon is blue and dreaming. Mushroom teacups sail in stardust withered laurels snap in dustwhirls tethered horsemen roam the skyways soldiered remnants hiss through brushwoods All is soon made clear.
 
 
 
 
Blind old seer, wizard, holy prophet
stumbling over rocky hillocks
toward the sun
beseeches, sings, ululates
opening passage, veils, gates
free to breathe, drink, be absorbed
 
 
 
London Bridge is burning, burning
The towers are struck and fallen down
With time and tide a'turning
What was lost may still be found
In a world of lads and lasses
Hale and strong, brave and true
Joined in singing,
Raise our glasses
And do as we must do
 
 
 
Immolation
 
 
Red Dragon glorious
Rising to flame
Cleansed of tumbling towers,
poisonous pits,
no refuge
Caustic breath invigorates
Hard smoke billows out challenge
Burning gloriously
ember threads
seer's memory
 
 
 
Empire
 
 
Standing askew as the inexorable boot commands
squeezing out gems, polished and pure.
Paid in bread and circuses.
Bathed in raw entitlement
dreaming of ravaging, raping at will
drinking bright blood doped with
ecstatic thrill
casting lot that promised reward
be assured.
Cold, this world.
Shadow sans Sun.
Listless lapping at sparkling carbonation.
Sinking below matter and form
into terror stories;
taking warmth from smoldering coals.
As tomorrow continues today
your dissolving heart
dispersing pearls of wisdom.
 
 
 
 
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
 
 
 
Prologue
 
 
Sun and Moon embrace
as one
for brief eternity
all mystery within
 
Black and White
create gradation
radiate kinetic energy
We can achieve
believe, begin, begin, begin
 
Gardeners, planting flowers,
planting food,
planting souls in
nurturing soil
 
Healers
perceiving wounds
to be sewn
relieving loneliness
revealing pain
held in, denied
twisting ardent toil
 
Teachers
admiring their wards
finding with them
questions, keys and doors;
realizing history is only destiny
when explorations cease;
invitations from space and time
come complete
with choices
 
A choir of voices
from softest spark
to fervent blaze
Troops of effervescent players
Symphonies,
drums at dawn
Inspiration and instruction
carried forth through song and stage
vibrant murals painting onward age to age
Taking up the challenge of the tale
that twists, turns, meanders
providing kaleidoscopic opportunity
ever to begin again
 
 
 
 
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.
 
 
 
Accept (I am as I am)
and flow
 
 
silvery sediment
Grand glowing Sun
eclipse on the river.
Caressed by satin water
hot and cold
element controlled, ever free.
River journeys
more sensual than air
more loquacious that Earth
more secure than fire
We can discover,
transmute along the river
never noticing how everything
has changed.
River run true rumination
murky, long flirtation with mysteries
we are born to yearn for.
Consummation may be our last reward.
When none (not even I) observe —
that’s always when it happens.
Feel safe, alone or in good
company. The river loves
in her own fashion.
 
 
 
ECLIPSE DREAM
 
 
Jump! Jittery. Nauseous claustrophobia . . .
l e t t i n g g o s l o o o w
Whoosh leap faster than my breath can catch me.
Dizzily, half-blinded, out of focus,
slant view along tree-strewn path.
Enchanted forest?
Smoke curling upward.
Gingerbread cottage in the woods.
Do I rest here, recoup my losses?
Savory soup simmers over tender hearth fire.
Shadow gloom occludes unswept corners.
Yet the center of the room
is surprisingly clean, radiant.
I sit, mantra embraced.
Nestled by magestic silk 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,
swing me along,
a cradle in the sea.
I descry mazes,
wondrous pageantry
woven into stellar stories.
Celestial spray anoints me.
I commence secret ceremony,
believing the Earth to be my home.
 
 
 
 
Purposeless circumstance
wears and weakens

eclipse’s focus

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