Another Death, Ho Hum and Aha

I have done it before
and I will do it again,
infinitum,
infirmly,
and infantile.

To die each moment
is to live enriched,
every thought
a babble
and another coo
closer, to what
never was
or ever will be.

I came to be
from where or
what from,
it does not matter
here. In the now,
of a dream...
what demon would
expect me to remember
what I could have not known
or cared to remember.

I live and I die
and that is enough.
I laugh and I play,
and that is everything.

ONE WON

Know NOW
We Won,
I AM
ONE!
1 for ALL
and all for 1.

The Row has Ebbed

It was such a rapid rush
amongst the churlish rocks
that sought to take me down
into the partly parted waters.

A snake hid among the bushes
small and afraid
and licked for fear
in a cowardly retreat.

Poor little creature,
not to be captured
by the flash of my cameral eye.

A giant coral snake
slithered down my streets
from the past...
the red, the gold, and black
shone brightly
for one brief moment.

I was not afraid to look.

I dove in desperation
into the choppy gray sea
from a bridge in fog.

I struggled to an unseen shore,
while looking back,
the black and white
sculpted structure was a
fine sight to behold.

I swam under its barrier
to a paradise beach
and stepped onto the sand.

I know where I am going.

I have rowed, and rowed
and the oars are worn
to an acorn
that I hold in my hand.

Doodling the sun, moon, stars,
and flower, like a child
I float in a giggling joy
and wonder where the
river will take me.

It's all home to me anyhow.

Play Ball

Send me in coach, I'm ready to play
in the game of life,
not a trivial pursuit.

I am the ball,
"be the ball,"
or so they said
as I lay braying
in pigskin armor
ready to be punted.

"Let the games begin,"
and I am hungry, and
cold, and helpless.

And what is this thing
called time, ticking
and slow as my growth.

The game is the programing,
as my first word tagged
as terrible, was Nooo!

Candyland and sand castles
somehow soothed, but
oh! the trouble when
I didn't play by the rules.

Crazy eights, and war,
taught me that winning
was right and righteous,
where is the rule book
on a checkerboard map?

The goal is the win, whose
side are you on? Losers
are loners are still checking
the stats.

I sit on the sidelines
tearful and confused;
the game is not fun,
the stakes are too high
as I cheer for myself,
with my foot in my mouth
and wonder aloud,
Now just who was that coach?

And So it Goes

In the left bank, left brain
of human survival,
the mortar is white washed
upon brink of doom.

Let the brick mourn back
in spattered spackle,
and a nail in a two by four
sealing its gloom.

Let the wailing begin.

A Z in calculus awakes
the arrival,
it's the zzz of sleep
for the sheep of schlep.

A baa for belial.

Cast the stone... of their sin.

but Ahh in right brain, entrain
the revival, the colors,
as prism of
Eostre eggystential
denial...

laugh away, row astray
refresh
and jest, while
the brain reconnects
it's heart, pink with a smile.

We're a stage in a play
with all colors ignited,
fade to black
in a moment
reabsorbed and reunited.

Can you Dig It?

And so it goes, and so it grows;
garden of renewal
in the dense of red clay.

Won't one worm squiggle
up to the plate? Earthworm
of segmented non sequitur,
hermaphrodite of the
seven chamber chakra heart
move that earth
and take no mountain
as your prisoner.

We await your worthiness
so silent, and patient,
doing your digging...

loving for loam.

Paradise lost?
Not on your watch.

The Meme of Miracle

In a birthing moment of Soul in the Light,
the darkness was apparent in a bodily fright,
a gasp, a yank, of the metal's delight.
Another body is crying,
another slave in morning's light.

The crying and colic, in this dense atmosphere
it is no wonder the infant was lost in her tears.
The parent's who brought her to a world of dread,
had good sense to bring her to Nature's nurturing bread.

In a park, with a pond, and late Summer's murmurs,
she laid on a blanket and felt somewhat surer
that her life had a mission, the meme did not stop
and whatever may come
and whatever transpired
the gift of this life
wasn't caught in the mire,
of the veil that now covered
the original plan,
the baby was planted
in the winds of the sand.

There was denseness and wonder
of this strange new world,
there were struggles and
and giggles in this strange baby girl.

She grew and grew weary, all alone
and afraid, and became despondent
of the choice that she made.
But a seer of old, re-implanted a seed
"You as a miracle is all that you need."

I've baaaed and humbugged like
all the rest, "I'm not up to the challenge
or up to the test." I was gently chided
by the best of the Best.

When you give up the struggle of making your way,
and you just let life be
and live who you are
there's nothing to prove
you are your plan's lovely star.

Burst forth... and shine, shine, shine
you are belonging to everything
the me, thou, and Thine...
you are a creator
and very Divine.

So lonely, I am, in my aberrant beliefs,
and the miracle whispers to my inner relief,
All is well, all is One,
you are just here to test
that mission that was devised
by your best of the Best.

Ra Ra Ra

Oh Ra, what a shock, Ra
to feel the ray of
illuminated warmth.

The warring is over,
and the cow jumped
over the monsoon.
Big dogs, little dogs...
all the dogs are laughing
by the light of a silvery moon.

Atoms lighting up the grid
the angst, the ankh, anew...
ka, caw, caul, crawl,
the beetles roam and rule
while sheep bleat
and kittens mewl.

Ha ha ha upon a shiny star,
funny things are everywhere...
even right angles to where you are.

Imagine that! Flying upwards
on onwards to the glories above
beyond pastures of manure
where the "holey" ones stood.

Unconditional Love
Unconditional Love
is all i know,
if know I could, Love.

Now, how, sacred Thou?

Ra ra, cis boom ba
a cheer I know,
I cheer I love!

Reconciliation

And in the beginning there was the word
Logos
and it was spread in many tongues
and meanings amongst the tribes.
The last word on the matter
became a tower of Babel.

And then there was a child's
cry in the wilderness
that was the genesis of
Emote
and it felt and reacted to
what cannot be said
in words.

And a scholar met
a child outside
the system of time
and space...

they held hands
in silence
for they were One.

And in this union
of heartfelt joining
there was an
Understanding
that lit a candle,
a tiny flame
that spread
Light.

No words, no
reactions,
just knowing and

Holding hands...
take five, take ten
in the
Peace of this
Understanding,
and the
Heart
will heal the wounds.

And Love prevailed...
it always does and always
freely will.

A Clothesline Perspective

I keep washing those same old clothes,
washing and wishing
for a whole new wardrobe.

An endless cycle of habit
and drudgery,
the chore that would
define me.

Seeking cleanliness...
and the Sun
it mocks me.

"You pick up the pieces
of the clothes that were worn
forgetting
what clothes were in place
on the day you were born."

What???

Then why am I washing
and hanging those old garments
out to dry?

"I don't know why you need
to clean old clothes."

"Throw them out,
get new ones...
no washing, and waiting
for old ones...

Do you really need to delve
into Why???"

A wrinkled mouth knowing
a reluctant nod
a cleansing breath
a folded sigh.

Maybe, it's the perspective that
should be hung out to dry.

Car Night Dancing

And so we strolled downtown
to car night display
in a little town, close to home
and ate and talked in an Irish cafe.

The weather was warm, the food
was rich, the wine was cold
it was a date night wish.

The music of old was heard
in the distance, so we paid
with a card, walked as we listened.

Memories of past cars and the men
who loved them, in folding chairs
to wait and reminisce (and maybe brag)
was their joy and mission.

Easter egg colors, no Crayola labels,
the finish and polish, fine touches and fables.

But the music, the oldies had drawn my attention,
in front of a church, denomination not mentioned.

I sang and I swayed in my shy but proud way
and the joy of convey opened the way to
a miraculous sight... if I must say

The children, the wee ones were awake
and listening... Elvis, and Jackie, Lennon
and Cash... jumping and dancing with aplomb
not abash.

The party was started as the people strolled by
mostly unaffected, or smiling and shy,
and only one soul made contact with my dancing
and singing and now I know why.

He was old and proud and this was his era,
he walked with a cane and a frown on his face, he could
hear without seeing the children of grace. A silly old gal
who knew words and moves, gave him a smile
for a second and then
he moved along tearful
as another has been.

Let the children remind us
we did this for them.

Guileless

There was an angel, there was an angel,
an angel that I once knew.

He had a hard job, and a mission, an impossible task
that he must do.

Suffer the children, all of the children, to
see the darker points of view.

He hid in the shadows, always the shadows,
of the me and of the you.

There is a heaven, a lovely heaven, a place
that draws us nearer to, but there is Prospero, a
pompous prospero that that shakes a spear
to much ado.

He had his say and to this day the message
seems quite clear, the chosen ones, the chosen
sons are quite affluent my dear.

A woman lain upon a stone, and still gave
birth to hope alone. In a cave, where once a
year, a golden light would sure appear.

A wondrous thing, a splendid hour, a darkened
angel would sweat and cower... but what to
eyes who are jaded and guileless
a lollipop goddess who is insipid and harmless...

I am still here and I'm not a smart woman
but I know love and I am certainly human.

He holds the darkness, while a pinpoint of light
seeps within the cavernous plight.

All is one and One is all... I'll hold up the cave,
the bargain, the call.

The Light is not for the son of man,
it is the Sun of the birth...
the woman of man.

Woo or woe
an artist's choice,
not lost, but found...
A small light, a pinpoint
of fight, a voice, a voice...
a verb lost in a noun.

Discernment

What is left to say that is not a judgement
on a plane that loves duality.
It's me and you, us and them, the winners
and losers and those in between.

It's not my scene.

I came and lived and made my
peace with mistakes and triumphs
too numerous to speak...

the soul has a gift of saying nothing
and meaning everything that cannot
or will not be said.

The logos is finally dead.

But the colors still swirl and
the patterns whirl in a common
thread of knit or now, I 'm a
nit-wit, I know. And how.

Make peace, make love
with those you love
and have fun in the doing,
no striving or trying,
lame excuse for the merely
obtuse...
just vibrate
where you want to be
and be free...

the walls are coming down
London bridge is falling down...

can you remember that glee?

On Being

I've been here a long while,
have read a lot
and experienced
many things...
I know nothing
and have learned less.

Perhaps it is a starting
point (or startling point
dependent on perspective).

I am just a human being.

Give It Up and Away

All that struggle to be...

a job, a ritual, a somebody

perfect in body, demeanor,

creator of a soul that the

world would like to see.

It wasn't me.

Hard-wired as a program

of who I was, a computerized person

just seeking some love.

Failure to please, lost in a dream,

life as a lesson can get pretty mean

when your life is a judgement

from a televised screen.

Nothing makes sense, as a

far fetched farce, so I tuned out

and gave up, and fessed up my worth.

It was divine.

There is nothing to do, but accept

who I Am... there is nothing to prove

in this flash of life's pan.

The heat is on, then a cold wind follows.

My days are spent watching

the flight plans of swallows.

So what?

There are lonely days, and isolation,

there are hours spent on meditation

but joy and acceptance have taken over

the thoughts of past concerns...

well they're certainly over.

I gave up.

No struggles, no hurries, no strivings

or worries. Just a joy for the moment

that comes in succession, grateful and

mindful, of a loving concession.

I smile.

If there is one little thing that I'm mindful

to do... it's to be kind and compassionate

in all that I do. I forgave my self for being...

and the rest of the world too.

Lighten up... is what I am able to do.

Brave Soul

You came here through that glorious tunnel of birth
with a goal in mind and all the encouragement
that the heavens could instill.

You chose the circumstances, the family, the plot
that would give you opportunity to make the changes
that the world was waiting for... you planned on change
based on love, and set your sights to sail from childhood.

You were loved when helpless, but slowly it was pulled
away when you could not make those around you aware.
You were disciplined and brainwashed to think a certain way,
to act in accordance with what was wrong from the get-go.
Your word was No and was not to be tolerated. But you forged ahead and did the best you could. It was harder than you imagined.
It was war on your intention and gentle being. Love had a cost.

Your plan was thwarted, stolen from under you like so many others who came to make a difference.
You banded together with others in frustration and decided
to play the game of the world as it is... and your power got lost.

Now look in the mirror at those sad searching eyes... go look deeply.
Your heart is still beating and there is plenty of time to go back
and remember. Can you be still enough to clear that programmed chatter of unimportant thought and will the remembrance?

See that little light in your pupils... wipe your tears, it never left you from your birth.
It is your divinity, your spark of life that remembers your plan.
Deep cleansing breath... love that face that has endured so much pain, hug yourself and be thankful that you still matter.

The world will be changed in the twinkling of an eye... it is just waiting for your own recognition of Love.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star... light the Universe with who you are.

Revolution

Stand up for something
like the world you are seeing
you are matter, you matter
lighten up in u being.

Enemy cleansing
enema cleaning
my enigma lies
leaning (sigh)
is meme signal ceasing?

Words have a play
hords value pay,
missing is u with
nothing to say.

Revolt, evolution
novel love potion
revel in your
potent solution!

Earthy

The sweet smell of decayed compost
raking round til the tiller cometh.
The rains are a comin sometime soon
says the shimmer stealth of the earthy worm.

Welcome here my meek and mighty friend,
why was I afraid of you and not the serpent?
If the fruit of the apple doesn't want your kind
then neither do I... Grandpa was right.

Inherit your worth... you have my vote.

Ebb Flow

White float bobber pate
and tofu feet
low crashing tide
is all I see.

Take me away
in currents sweet
I concur
from land of sea.

Bob away, bob away
distant lark
moving mountains
star of spark.

Coming out, coming in
frothy fave.
Man against sea
or child amidst wave.

Eyes on Mars

Mars glows red with a glittering eye
alone and beseeching in a moonlit sky.

Venus is busy mobilizing her kin
sick of the rhetoric and drum war sin.

No need for worry or unnecessary fear
those lovers won't part anytime this year.

Mars knows the drumbeat and the threats of war
Venus knows the enemy who has cast her lot a whore.

Both see the writing on the wall
a wink blink destiny, that is all.

Mars glows red and scared
so bright but so alone.
Venus has gone underground
to conjure up a storm...

Planes are gliding here and there
Bird conspiracies are everywhere
I sat, I saw, I knew I heard...
I can't remember a single word.

Relax sweet Mary and quietly sing,
 you need not say a single thing.

The garden grows. The garden glows.

Tickin Trickin Time

Daylight peeps and glows before
the purple beasts of the night
who are slowly mocked in orange.

Triumphant harbinger
of a lightened glower...
another lifetime
another chance
to know nowness.

Demons cower and hide...
lighten up and open blinds,
the flowers will lift lovely heads
as birds trill above the bustle
of cars wheels and commerce.

Knowing now by light of day
does not ease the darkened tempest
when cold sheets and rushing beats
are comforted by the distant ticking
and counting chime of the trickster clock.

I wait for dawn, yet again
for another chance to outsmart time.

Just the way I AM

All those years of struggling, and striving
and searching for happiness
where it cannot be found...
leaves me
alone
in good company
with myself.
My camera has captured beauty
in a flower, a place, a smile
on a child's face
and I am
contented
having turned the lens inward
to see the beauty that lies
within.
Life's experience will continue
to change me, age me, and
turn pages on me
but for now
in this moment of reflection
I like this awakened
being, this homeland
of seeing, and I remain
grateful
that I am who I am
Just the way I AM.

An Ode to Oprah

Years of viewing the the show of the tell
from those who had stories or something to sell.
She who let voices speak, or spark a movement
or lead a commiserator's heart to denouement.
A gentle woman with a savvy for flair
gave millions a program to watch others share.
I saw many shows with an opened mind's eye
not all was comforting to a question of... why?
But that final show after all those years
awoke my senses and produced many tears.
The greatest message summing up human condition
was so humble coming from her exalted position.
People the world over really just want one thing,
the word is validation... a means to sing-
"I matter, I do, I came here for something..."
there is no one on Earth whose life means nothing.
Thank you dear Oprah for showing the way,
how to validate others who have something to say.

Quickening

A quick flash of flutter
goldfish in a womb
where life grows
placed, centered,
divine.
In heart, body, spirit, mind,
it is of no matter
what your love
or how its love
defines.
Nurture that creative nature
that you possess
caressing, expressing,
acquiescing
its right to be.
Quietly it quivers
awake as thought
or hunch, swimming
to share its exquisite
creation
from who and what
and where you've
been on that
journey of you,
co-creator
and quiescent
vessel of
birth.

Wrapped in Woods

Along a path of weaving wander
leaving the past as shedding of skin,
branches reach down to bramble below,
warmth of bark invites holy embrace
as rattling oak leaves whisper hello.

Spirited squirrels bound, scratch, and scamper,
a diverse flock of ducks float on a pond,
wingspan of buzzard dives in solo;
life force is flowing and giving us space
to feel and experience Winter's kind grace.

Unseemly balm of turquoise sky scene,
moss matched greenery shining below,
heady and giddy though walking alone.
Rushing of river smells of damp loam
while fringe of a feather, unwinged
floats merrily down a wet woodsy stream.