Thursday, June 20, 2013

Solstice

Enter Dancing
 
 
That liminal space
Between my body and vibrant air
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 motherly embrace,
Holds me softly,
Listens closely,
Lifts out all my sorrow,
Lets me fly.
 
 
 
Summer Again
 
 
movin' into summer
wind into cloud formation
drifting into deep emotion
sun rise
blossoming into a
rhythmic peak
sending out, sending out, sending out
energy
reflecting in summer sky
 
I need to tell a tale
of fantasy and languid
leaning into tall grass,
fruited trees, lustrous leaves,
brilliant sunshine warm
soporifically
melting lilting drifts of reverie
the tale unwinds in brightly
colored ribbons
careens through gypsy comedies
of sinuous, dappled romance
bathed in silken perfumes
sweet and scandalous
deigning to smile
happy laughter bubbles out
bursts into raucous music
bouncing summer eve
a’glisten in firefly light
 
tell a rollicking tale,
we demand of the piper
we have paid all the long
seasons of darkness
it is time to reap an early harvest,
carousing dusk to dawn
 
 
June 21, 2006
 
 
 
Joy to the Season
 
 
The Moon is adrift in the wind above
our sheltering craft in the sea
and all the world of Summer is ours
to ride the fire, toast to the stars
sway with warm desire, open our hearts
create a Summer of Love
 
Celebration waves the streets, with drums,
lucid bells, a call to play
Carnival cheer brings heat to flame
Chants blend to sing with drinks and games
Grand gestures expand, to applaud such a day
fueled by smiling Sun
 
 
 
June 2011
 
 
 
Welcome to Summer
 
 
Dream-laced lunar light
Infuse our summer days
With magic and romance
A’glee in joyous play
Enraptured in the dance
Where fantasy takes flight
Above the rule-bound maze
To wild impassioned life
 
            Wild and windblown flowers blooming
 
            Scent enlivens sense to peak
 
            Warm, warm breeze and rivers flowing
 
            Endless days of running free
 
            Let summer magick build and steam,
 
            simmer into thrills supreme
   
        A season of playful reformation
 
        So play on ...
 
 
 
Of course you come to listen.
My tales tell your secrets,
scryed from vivid ancient crystal
missives.
You must remember
Spring day walking
along a rocky roadside,
sandy hair, gritty eyes
awash
in silent reverie.
Song singing hallelujahs,
brilliant paranoias.
Sprinting across,
small images.
Listless children wonder:
"Why does no one let us play?"
A world of sullen children
overdue for naps and coddling.
 
It can't be a secret
if nobody's listening.
Blueberry jam at teatime.
Places in your mind
will answer.
 
Midsummer Evening
 
Float of cool jazz
Pop of sparkling wine
My own little garden party
'midst the blossoms of my mind.
Back from the rabbit hole.
Back from New York City, Boston,
Detroit, LA ...
from every day uploading another
grind.
Finding time to play, haunted
by lazy memories
exhorting starlight.
Midsummer twilight,
fairytales brought back from sleep.
No longer keeper of my brethren's terrors,
I don mischievous costume,
step out as power, glory,
love gently, like a summer evening's rain
lays boon to countryside,
dandelions and clover.
Generous prophets whisper
bounty of cyclical stories,
delectable, potent, wise
in the ways of demons,
oracles, gypsy Queens.
Escape, they say, into sacred muse-ways.
Every day a new day
stands ground against a grind
ever more distant.
Inciting sound, opening vistas
vastly
flowering.
 
 
 
City Summer
 
 
Let the games begin.
Let the long luxurious summer days begin.
Let us harken back to when
Our schooldays' end
Would send our thoughts adrift through 
    dazzling fields
    of daisies and daffodils;
    sandlot games & swimming holes and
    endless flights for fantasy's fulfillment.
And let us not forget the nights,
The hot & sticky summer city nights
That send us to the streets in colorful array
    like firefly lights
Joking & drinking and starting sudden fights
'Til the thunder rumbles through and blessed
cooling rain relieves hot-headed strife.
 
As the heat-soaked summer skies once more descend,
Let us drift down sleepy sun-drenched streams
till summer ends . . . .
 
 
 
The Longest Day
 
 
Earth of sea and land and air
Lit into opportunistic life
by her mother star
Energy for you and me to
burst into bloom
flit fly in
busy devious thievery
cacophonous ramble.
 
Surging through veils,
storms breathe ice, sand,
the fire of prophecy,
the flood of melting.
Glacial migration
bequeaths rage, rampage,
rapacious gratuities
boiling beneath.
It's not winter here, nuclear quiet,
all's right for the longest of nights.
Not yet.
The eternal balance:
rocks, stars, dark
inconsistencies with
metaphors of the righteous,
long ceased bowing to scriptures.
Tomorrow, the Sun will rise.
The Earth will revolve.
Life will adjust, compromise.
After the workday, we celebrate
potent evening light.
 
 
 
 
You can have your equinoxes,
or cross-quarters’ fetes.
Lead me with Solsti, delineation of extremes.
Sun to Earth,
charged Cardinal points, sturdy in stubborn worth.
Symbolic enchaining
rock to sea.
Kinetic energy
defining space in relation to time.
Ecstatic Saturn
and brother Moon, sublime,
secreted in esoteric lore,
heroic stories,
everyday glories,
exotic songs
evoking prescient memories.
I dream a shining fountain of fame
upon a sparkling hill.
If wisdom can save us from
the illness of slavedom,
so bend the common will.
 
 
 
Winter Solstice
 
 
The darkness descends.
As we cry out for warmth and light
Our voices turn to spirit-imbued song
Our frantic movements against the cold
turn to ecstatic dancing.
We take comfort from each other's warmth
and celebrate the life within
struggling to survive.
'Tis the season to relearn the magic
As we share our heavy burdens
of fear and despair.
Joining hands, dancing 'round the fire,
we raise our sight to the sky
and each day,
the days get lighter.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Monday, June 10, 2013

Timothy McVeigh Is Still Dead

Timothy McVeigh Is Still Dead
 
 
It's morning in America
The morning of June 11, 2001
A warm and beautiful Spring day
And in Terre Haute, Indiana -- a little after 7:00 am
--Timothy McVeigh is dead.
What more is there to say?
We all know the score:
Murder: 169, Mercy: 0
The antihero "bloody, but unbowed"
Silenced, but still proud
Ashes to scattered ashes

Death to death.

Friday, June 7, 2013

Dark Moon

Astronomy Lesson
 
 
Darkening into heavier impression,
molten heat compresses.
Density increases toward
event horizon.
Twilight
on the apocalyptic battlefield.
Inside the box
are we dying
or transforming?
Starlight peeks in.
Do we suckle cosmic energy,
grow strong and wise?
Or demand incineration?
Phoenix or dove, or cawing raven
beating mortal wings
against the emerging stars.
 
 
June 8, 2006
 
 
Dark Moon
 
 
So pretty the crescent moon
fading into dark.
Quiet of night
merges with memory.
I can not face,
can not see.
Soul tired, beyond aching bones,
beyond any place called home.
Not a child of misery,
no one to blame, none to profit.
Flying after fantasy,
treetop to treetop,
laughing at clouds
in their droll
picture play.
It takes a toll, years in.
Naysayers chant "We reject
you, not of the body."
Inject powerful medications
to prove their point,
their divinity.
Bliss-filled moments
carry me hither and yon
upon some apocalyptic
journey.
Far short of any paradise, I surrender.
Soul tired, yearning for the Moon.
 
 
June 8, 2008
 
astral vision
 
 
Mystery mists of history, holy crescent lighted sky.
Calm anticipation early pinks ascendant from eerie violets.
Thunderous Jupiter twinkles like a happy kitten;
tummy extends for adoration.
Omens, prophecy, hope for endless happy returns,
quests into/out of space/mind
(without gravity, how can we fall ... or love?)
Aching for stars, planets, eternity.
Silent assent that means all is promised.
I touch a cosmic peak,
breathless at such altitude.
 
 

June 8, 2010

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Celebrate Laziness

Celebrate Laziness!
Mentor of Invention
this benevolent first cousin to Peace
Proclaim, reclaim, claim
such lovely virtue
calmly, with gentle humor,
in your own good time.
*
*
*

[I’m filled with evangelical glee ~]

Saturday, June 1, 2013

june

Pink Pancake Place
A shanty of a place
surprise upon a side city street
painted sweet pink
serving pancakes steeped in sticky syrup
fruits, nuts, chocolate chunks
create your own ambrosia
June, a sweet, gangly girl named
June, in the bright, breezy month named
June -- sharing secret bliss

taste of Sun-kissed cloud and honey

Friday, May 24, 2013

Sagittarius Full Moon

Sagittarius Full Moon

The many faces of the Moon
reflecting starlight in her many moods
entrance the sky.
My mortal eyes want to believe
adventures, mythologies, romantic rhymes .
Tell me, hoary elders,
rejuvenated for your fling
in sacred moonlight,
dancing from your ivied castles
to mystic mountain
legendary glades,
tell me why I should believe
in magic of codes and
spells and sacrifice.
Is the wisdom of the ages
so constrained?
My species may be blind to
true eternity,
but we mutate,
find and define
new ways to see.
Fixed belief is far too limiting
for me.
Dear Sister Moon, separate entity
from birth, entwined destiny
with Mother Earth,
patterns re-cycling reveal
what we regard to be real
is but reflection.
Face to face to face, fluid

to change.

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Wind Song

Wind Song


Caught a’fall through cobwebbed memory,
balance calm within storm,
echoed enchantment.

Joined merriment of dancers,
glide of movement
choreographic poetry,
mindful
poignant whispering of song
wyrding motion,
a chance to beatifically play

where love is a symphony
from which breath expands
each to each,
in brief season.

In the wind
stories, blow, whirl,
wisp, purring gentle, insistent, strong,
going wide, long, dipping below.
A galaxy of swirling lights
blinks bright, dark, invisible for a slow
millennium or so;
only seen outlined in night minds
obstructed by veil, by shadow, by
"No, that can't be real."
Until softly swaying melody
caught still in some fantastic sirocco
casts about for local color,
adoring djinn bleating for succor.

The field dances
hungrily with wind, with wild.
In the eye of eternity, wise
as any child, as any wizard
myth could conceive,
This One, This Master of
enchantments (believe, my kin,
believe) takes fluid stand.
Takes true command.
Raises eyes, mind, arms
to conduct transcendent music.
Sky and ground converge
lightly, marry grace and supplication,
make merry conversation,
soothe wild beasts from
silent space with dervish charm.
The few picked to observe,
learn to carry on these tales,
loose from sobriety.
Enthralled by call of magic,
work a new reality.
Ride high on dragon scales,
spirits entranced.