Lovers are by night and day,
they travel in silken weaves,
teardrops when they cannot stay,
dreams of future meetings on sandy beaches
and not once do they doubt their loving
as there is no thought of this,
yeah, they are lost in the kiss ...
... to kiss the beloved with the same kiss
the beloved kisses me,
to be the beloved as one inside,
this then is a Love in which to abide...
by these tears,
all recycled and come of the Universe and Sun,
flowed and overflowed back to thee
as cleansing the fears after all these years,
and yesterdays gone to tomorrows sweeter song,
and tears now are joy and overflowed in Love ...
yet by doubt we are undone,
that you differ from me,
though in the Heart we are as one,
which cannot take advantage of me ...
... the mystery of longing in the night
where swathed in monotonal light
we as if swoon
to that mystical orb of Moon ...
... it shows in your eyes how bright shines your flame,
and by this gift inspired, gives the light again and again…
the sweetest gift,
to give and give
and by that Love,
give again when old and gray,
that it is the Love that remains today...
Sometimes the Goddess comes
when my Heart is afire
and gently touches her lips upon my own,
a longing sigh escapes as she departs in mystery,
she cannot stay, but with my heart has flown ...
Friday, October 26, 2007
for the wounded man
The plaint of the wounded Man
who was protector of Nature and her course,
but ran to the tree of knowing that is reasons curse,
he left with arrogant pride the path of Love,
to look below instead of up above ...
... a walk into the depth and breadth of life,
his Heart aspired and came to see,
the magic, so fleetingly
we all pass by, we all pass by ...
he has the gift/curse to see it all
with eyes wide open reflecting all the world;
to look and look and look and dare to see
what passes by so fleetingly ...
the change of Heart that gives him birth anew,
where all his sorrows and pains are wrapped in honey dew,
so now he walks with kindness stirred in every step he takes,
to realize that all the Love he gave is all that he ever makes
we are only passing by and fragile in our way,
that he will not come again we do not have a say,
between the Sun and the nightly Moon,
he walks this seminal path and by this cosmic cycle is held fast ...
by reason crooked, we are shallow men,
by that doubting path we fall to sin,
for sin is the crooked way
where we detour from gracious Love,
and we look below for what is up above,
and in this hell we wretched stay, for all of eternity!
who was protector of Nature and her course,
but ran to the tree of knowing that is reasons curse,
he left with arrogant pride the path of Love,
to look below instead of up above ...
... a walk into the depth and breadth of life,
his Heart aspired and came to see,
the magic, so fleetingly
we all pass by, we all pass by ...
he has the gift/curse to see it all
with eyes wide open reflecting all the world;
to look and look and look and dare to see
what passes by so fleetingly ...
the change of Heart that gives him birth anew,
where all his sorrows and pains are wrapped in honey dew,
so now he walks with kindness stirred in every step he takes,
to realize that all the Love he gave is all that he ever makes
we are only passing by and fragile in our way,
that he will not come again we do not have a say,
between the Sun and the nightly Moon,
he walks this seminal path and by this cosmic cycle is held fast ...
by reason crooked, we are shallow men,
by that doubting path we fall to sin,
for sin is the crooked way
where we detour from gracious Love,
and we look below for what is up above,
and in this hell we wretched stay, for all of eternity!
Where Love takes us ...
Now I write with fullness and Heart
where want and want not, are gone,
'tis not my way to flaunt affections
'nor by this become undone ...
So we to write with all that comes of Love and awareness full,
by this inner sight our minds are never dull.
Love is the current and stream within that flows from our eager Heart,
so to pen our feelings and thought is where we have to start.
Love is round and reason crooked, a doubting path alas,
for by what reason kills our Hearts have found,
a Love that ever was...
It's so easy when we bloom inside the Heart with wonder,
for doubt is but a thought we can change,
when we look within and ponder.
First believe in nothing, then I say, belief is unnecessary in a way,
as Love is the jewel, the wish fulfilling gem,
by this feat we come to Love again and again …
Where Love takes us, a journey,
a spiral, often feelings are circular instead ...
your flowing words are making as if to speed towards
the falls and the whitewater crashing there are making rainbows in that mist.
... a wake up call and a beat with Heart,
to fearless compassion and doing your part ...
Time is a wounded reason
by which we are assailed with a thousand cuts of hurry and desperation.
When broken we fall into the mud and look there
as if for the first time and all is as one
where Peace that timeless affair has come!
So too with Love we've circled
all our lives to affection and desire
when doubt killed that gentle stirring.
We made our hearts to burn with strife
with shackles we built into our life.
… doubt is the Heart killer…
... a smallish voice, a gentle stirring,
inside our Heart does cry, that witless reason,
casts the doubt from which we dare not try,
to Love again as whole with courage,
and knowing not this wound, the vanity of reason recurring,
another doubt is found, so dare to Love and dare to change
the mind is ill from pain, take the high road and take full measure
and Love will come again ...
We break to accomplish many more aches,
to wonder and awe we move
that by this we come again and again,
to unreasonable Love ...
the grind of weighty shallowness,
we all fall there when materiality is all our care,
but to shine on a Heart of wonder,
and sing sweet songs,
demands we dive deep into uncharted territories,
there are no maps for the places of the Heart!
where want and want not, are gone,
'tis not my way to flaunt affections
'nor by this become undone ...
So we to write with all that comes of Love and awareness full,
by this inner sight our minds are never dull.
Love is the current and stream within that flows from our eager Heart,
so to pen our feelings and thought is where we have to start.
Love is round and reason crooked, a doubting path alas,
for by what reason kills our Hearts have found,
a Love that ever was...
It's so easy when we bloom inside the Heart with wonder,
for doubt is but a thought we can change,
when we look within and ponder.
First believe in nothing, then I say, belief is unnecessary in a way,
as Love is the jewel, the wish fulfilling gem,
by this feat we come to Love again and again …
Where Love takes us, a journey,
a spiral, often feelings are circular instead ...
your flowing words are making as if to speed towards
the falls and the whitewater crashing there are making rainbows in that mist.
... a wake up call and a beat with Heart,
to fearless compassion and doing your part ...
Time is a wounded reason
by which we are assailed with a thousand cuts of hurry and desperation.
When broken we fall into the mud and look there
as if for the first time and all is as one
where Peace that timeless affair has come!
So too with Love we've circled
all our lives to affection and desire
when doubt killed that gentle stirring.
We made our hearts to burn with strife
with shackles we built into our life.
… doubt is the Heart killer…
... a smallish voice, a gentle stirring,
inside our Heart does cry, that witless reason,
casts the doubt from which we dare not try,
to Love again as whole with courage,
and knowing not this wound, the vanity of reason recurring,
another doubt is found, so dare to Love and dare to change
the mind is ill from pain, take the high road and take full measure
and Love will come again ...
We break to accomplish many more aches,
to wonder and awe we move
that by this we come again and again,
to unreasonable Love ...
the grind of weighty shallowness,
we all fall there when materiality is all our care,
but to shine on a Heart of wonder,
and sing sweet songs,
demands we dive deep into uncharted territories,
there are no maps for the places of the Heart!
We are all a small part of eternity ...
We are all a small part of eternity,
yet of the greater are we made
by the same stuff as a Galaxy.
We can produce Stars and Planets
inside you and me ...
We make our monsters under the bed,
and we make our fears inside our head,
so when we stop all this make believe,
we wake to Peace and no more dread!
... when the mind is drawn to dark
and our body aches with grief,
we go within and seek the soul
'tis there we find relief ...
... soul gives insight into all we can apprise
if we but realize!
From this great nothing,
gazed from an inner dream,
came this world where all only seems.
There you were and I came too,
it was the end and the beginning anew ...
... your wonderings go deep so I am refreshed
by their uncommon currents ...
This then is what we can say of Art,
that it is born of the Heart of Wonder,
which blooms as leaf in where we ponder,
and bears the fruit for all to eat,
that is ambrosia, Divinely sweet...
So by these works shall we be known,
a teller of tales by light of the Moon and crackly fire,
that show us the wonder they inspire ...
So by that Heart Heathen heresy we shout there is no sin,
that God speaks to us all from within ...
yet of the greater are we made
by the same stuff as a Galaxy.
We can produce Stars and Planets
inside you and me ...
We make our monsters under the bed,
and we make our fears inside our head,
so when we stop all this make believe,
we wake to Peace and no more dread!
... when the mind is drawn to dark
and our body aches with grief,
we go within and seek the soul
'tis there we find relief ...
... soul gives insight into all we can apprise
if we but realize!
From this great nothing,
gazed from an inner dream,
came this world where all only seems.
There you were and I came too,
it was the end and the beginning anew ...
... your wonderings go deep so I am refreshed
by their uncommon currents ...
This then is what we can say of Art,
that it is born of the Heart of Wonder,
which blooms as leaf in where we ponder,
and bears the fruit for all to eat,
that is ambrosia, Divinely sweet...
So by these works shall we be known,
a teller of tales by light of the Moon and crackly fire,
that show us the wonder they inspire ...
So by that Heart Heathen heresy we shout there is no sin,
that God speaks to us all from within ...
Sunday, October 21, 2007
The Eleusinian Mysteries
An ode of ages by men of sight and sound,
'wrote lofty songs'
Homer's lyrical muse gave him visions
from Trojan wars to the Cosmic Flower
of the fair haired Earth Goddess and her power.
Chronicling all their Love among the ruins
'always breaks down'
She walked in green garments flowing,
Dimeter's eyes which look adamantine,
Blessing the fertile ground with feast or famine.
The dying and reviving Daughter Kore,
'into the underworld'
Like dew upon the land of milk and honey,
Her perpetual Spring and moistened ground,
In Earth embowered, assailed, she can't be found.
A wretched Mother wailing her loss,
'oh, rise up Persophene'
The land infertile she wanders, stray
She cannot see with tear blinded sight
and man and beast are condemned to eternal night.
O' Fortuna lost, in Hades she is gone,
'chthonic lust caverna'
Little men are seemly done, waste away
By rape of Love and greater loathe of mystery
They repeat their sin, beguiled, throughout history.
Eternal Spring, O' well of rapture
'rise up, rise up'
Your time has come to melt the ice
Formed round your core with lusty hate
'tis the season to rise up, rise up, do not hesitate.
Verdant Spring now comes and goes,
'the Muse of verse'
by Nature we are bound in blood; mud!
She only to our fertile ground will come,
When the cruel time of mans dark season is done.
Friday, October 19, 2007
... to the Poet
... the beat is Rhythmic like a drum,
from which you flow true words of clarity and fire,
that indeed if we do not by despair
'nor by remorse go within,
that we then lessor so, go without!!!
Blessed beauty comes to us again and again,
a fragile reaching and a flowing testament;
we by this courage reach and reach again,
if burned twice or more,
we reach out to say,
I am and will be again and again,
a receptacle of kindness
and giver of Love again and again, today!
That tears of strife bring us relief,
to Peace that boon of Soul;
Where we begin again and again,
to look within, Oh, blessed be,
that this Beauty is inside of me.
We may not have the riches,
nor the house and car to flaunt,
but we’ve got the Sun in the morning
and the Moon at night,
what more could we ever want.
... each piece gathers emotion
and moves us along in the wisdom of Poetry;
that we are the meaning makers.
As such,
we can revision our past,
change it,
and envision our future,
create it,
by these small words we write
with all our Hearts and all our minds ...
oh, what a haunted homage to those fallen
in the madness and desperation of life.
We capture the feelings of fragility
and futility in this write we write.
Under flag and under state,
we march to our bloody field,
not to return 'nor to hesitate,
we make our stand or burn;
a conflagration leapt from our pen,
again and again.
Yet we write for a little moment,
from our Heart of passion,
to cling to immortality
in a word on a page
from which we write
to write beyond which we can see,
and in that is our commonality!
... Oh! On fragile wings our visions fly,
and with a penned veracity,
from our inner life into their inner eye,
we show them the Angels of mercy ...
... you have Nature's breath stirred in your Poem,
and that she can burn, and all to ash, if spurned...
her urge is we, and that you see,
her tale is not yet ended,
nor yet us, but perhaps,
we shall fall, if we hear not her call ...
as Poet we set dark and light textures in a piece,
the Poetic device creates the tension, and we agree ...
yin/yang in a Poem or even a sentence
can paint new wonderings unseen by even the Poet ...
like enjambment can create a beat…
... a fragile reaching and a flowing testament;
we by this courage reach and reach again,
if burned twice or more, we reach out to say,
I am and will be again and again,
a receptacle of kindness
and giver of Love again and again, today!
Natures song is played in melodies that bring me along
in the flow of poetry such as this,
plays on my heart as a Divine kiss ...
Our flowing pen and lavish language
are here united in a beautiful prayer!
... the beat is Rhythmic like a drum,
from which we flow true words of clarity and fire,
that indeed if we do not by despair
'nor by remorse go within,
that we then lessor so, go without!
from which you flow true words of clarity and fire,
that indeed if we do not by despair
'nor by remorse go within,
that we then lessor so, go without!!!
Blessed beauty comes to us again and again,
a fragile reaching and a flowing testament;
we by this courage reach and reach again,
if burned twice or more,
we reach out to say,
I am and will be again and again,
a receptacle of kindness
and giver of Love again and again, today!
That tears of strife bring us relief,
to Peace that boon of Soul;
Where we begin again and again,
to look within, Oh, blessed be,
that this Beauty is inside of me.
We may not have the riches,
nor the house and car to flaunt,
but we’ve got the Sun in the morning
and the Moon at night,
what more could we ever want.
... each piece gathers emotion
and moves us along in the wisdom of Poetry;
that we are the meaning makers.
As such,
we can revision our past,
change it,
and envision our future,
create it,
by these small words we write
with all our Hearts and all our minds ...
oh, what a haunted homage to those fallen
in the madness and desperation of life.
We capture the feelings of fragility
and futility in this write we write.
Under flag and under state,
we march to our bloody field,
not to return 'nor to hesitate,
we make our stand or burn;
a conflagration leapt from our pen,
again and again.
Yet we write for a little moment,
from our Heart of passion,
to cling to immortality
in a word on a page
from which we write
to write beyond which we can see,
and in that is our commonality!
... Oh! On fragile wings our visions fly,
and with a penned veracity,
from our inner life into their inner eye,
we show them the Angels of mercy ...
... you have Nature's breath stirred in your Poem,
and that she can burn, and all to ash, if spurned...
her urge is we, and that you see,
her tale is not yet ended,
nor yet us, but perhaps,
we shall fall, if we hear not her call ...
as Poet we set dark and light textures in a piece,
the Poetic device creates the tension, and we agree ...
yin/yang in a Poem or even a sentence
can paint new wonderings unseen by even the Poet ...
like enjambment can create a beat…
... a fragile reaching and a flowing testament;
we by this courage reach and reach again,
if burned twice or more, we reach out to say,
I am and will be again and again,
a receptacle of kindness
and giver of Love again and again, today!
Natures song is played in melodies that bring me along
in the flow of poetry such as this,
plays on my heart as a Divine kiss ...
Our flowing pen and lavish language
are here united in a beautiful prayer!
... the beat is Rhythmic like a drum,
from which we flow true words of clarity and fire,
that indeed if we do not by despair
'nor by remorse go within,
that we then lessor so, go without!
To life ...
We feel the Autumn which slowly seeks to Winters sleep,
Where leaves of golden hue and yellow bright fall away,
That hearth and kin all cherished share, even to us weep,
With all that is sacred in our heart, to words in kindness say.
Though hallowed death gives rise to impermanence, that fear,
Where we bid all that is familiar a desperate longing wave,
To huddle with all we hold fast for a lasting time so Dear,
'Tis a waste, it is for nought, if our life we cannot save!
Alas, the trees and farmers know this is the cycle of all life,
That from our holy Spring we are by destiny doomed to die,
From the Summer of our rhapsodies, our drama and all strife,
That hallowed death with grace accepts our truth and so our lie.
In what is life when filled with fear of its darkly unkind end,
From whence we come to this fell dream of meaningless despair,
What kind of jest and jester laugh at these, which so offend,
It is without the blind of Justice nor from the heart of care.
We twist and squirm with this apprehensive cry, to denial sink!
And wash our customs with the lie, that meaning is irrelevant.
So to the quest of this life and its sweetest ambrosia we drink,
All the while looking away from what the leaves of Autumn meant.
We rise to feelings that we have purpose and do all belong,
A curious circle of life where death has as much a say as we.
It is never too late to give our Heart to lofty ways and song,
'Nor can we grieve if this Love, our gift, is given to all freely.
We feel the Autumn which slowly seeks to Winters snow,
Where whitely covered all in sleep that is in Natures way,
Look with kindness and cherish each and every moment so,
Not in whimpered fear we bow, but to live and love this day!
Where leaves of golden hue and yellow bright fall away,
That hearth and kin all cherished share, even to us weep,
With all that is sacred in our heart, to words in kindness say.
Though hallowed death gives rise to impermanence, that fear,
Where we bid all that is familiar a desperate longing wave,
To huddle with all we hold fast for a lasting time so Dear,
'Tis a waste, it is for nought, if our life we cannot save!
Alas, the trees and farmers know this is the cycle of all life,
That from our holy Spring we are by destiny doomed to die,
From the Summer of our rhapsodies, our drama and all strife,
That hallowed death with grace accepts our truth and so our lie.
In what is life when filled with fear of its darkly unkind end,
From whence we come to this fell dream of meaningless despair,
What kind of jest and jester laugh at these, which so offend,
It is without the blind of Justice nor from the heart of care.
We twist and squirm with this apprehensive cry, to denial sink!
And wash our customs with the lie, that meaning is irrelevant.
So to the quest of this life and its sweetest ambrosia we drink,
All the while looking away from what the leaves of Autumn meant.
We rise to feelings that we have purpose and do all belong,
A curious circle of life where death has as much a say as we.
It is never too late to give our Heart to lofty ways and song,
'Nor can we grieve if this Love, our gift, is given to all freely.
We feel the Autumn which slowly seeks to Winters snow,
Where whitely covered all in sleep that is in Natures way,
Look with kindness and cherish each and every moment so,
Not in whimpered fear we bow, but to live and love this day!
She hums...
She hums when all
is aright in her world.
The world where
cool streams roll down to the sea.
Where Salmon berries
are plump for the picking.
Where she does not have to try.
Arms outstretched for balance
as she tentatively steps.
The stream cooling sandled feet,
many Suns dancing in the stream
glittering caresses up her calf,
reflecting light on her face and skin
return to her eyes sparkling…
She has found a rock
upon which to lay her weariness;
smoothed by times endless movement.
Laying there on the alter of river stone
she offers herself to trees and sky.
A furtive fly
catches her eye
and she exchanges her miseries for memories;
reflecting, staring, lost.
The rock has taken her pain,
the sky her dreams;
she is herself again…
is aright in her world.
The world where
cool streams roll down to the sea.
Where Salmon berries
are plump for the picking.
Where she does not have to try.
Arms outstretched for balance
as she tentatively steps.
The stream cooling sandled feet,
many Suns dancing in the stream
glittering caresses up her calf,
reflecting light on her face and skin
return to her eyes sparkling…
She has found a rock
upon which to lay her weariness;
smoothed by times endless movement.
Laying there on the alter of river stone
she offers herself to trees and sky.
A furtive fly
catches her eye
and she exchanges her miseries for memories;
reflecting, staring, lost.
The rock has taken her pain,
the sky her dreams;
she is herself again…
Monday, October 08, 2007
The Lovers
I’ve waited for you,
beyond these lies of time,
beyond my life,
of dream seeming;
Crooked motions.
No:w:here,
then you came;
a glance!
Springing to each other.
Eyes on fire
mind flashing;
heart pitter pat!
Wonder and razors
cutting into me;
undone and recreated.
Like enormous
gravities, falling
into lips; and in the bliss,
of extinguishing ourselves
in this kiss; unended.
Swooning without
distinction,
no you, no we,
no other;
both disappeared
into forever together…
When we kiss the beloved,
with the same kiss
the beloved kisses we;
in that kiss is all eternity!
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Such as you...
One such as you,
with eyes reflecting all the world,
you see Beauty in another,
because from Beauty we are come,
in each and everyone!
… a Divine sound
you are Beauty,
and if you make me feel more precious
than my mind would allow me to accept,
then so be it;
our Hearts are covered
with all the disperate pains
and deviations from the Spirit of our longing.
And so we judge ourselves,
and cry for redemption
from old wounds given and received.
Yet, these onion pain body skins
are the Mareshka dolls
and only we can twist them open
to see they are illusion too.
… a Divine sound
Your writing shows your wild Spirit
and your trembling Human fragility,
for we are each made of dark and light,
the wings of our longing are this.
Oh, yes, we can never tarry too long,
'nor are we complete without that song,
moving in every cell and every thought,
our hearts a rapture of Love,
by which we rise, by which we rise …
by which we are pulled above,
by these Yin/Yang wings,
made of Love…
…a Divine sound
'O, what a lovely light!',
that from this moment to next,
has also gone before,
traversing time as if it space,
and alternities galore;
this is your pen, and our inspiration,
the breathe you give each letter,
the Soul in our machines!
... the streams of electrons spinning,
cascading to our eye,
information lovingly embraced,
leaving a memory and a sigh,
and the wonder in our why ...
… a Divine sound
Remember me for a brief moment,
as adoring and a Lover of your wonders,
I know you are shifting your world,
change agent that you are;
a Star comes to shine from what you've written,
and that you have touched my Heart,
and so much more, and so much more!
with eyes reflecting all the world,
you see Beauty in another,
because from Beauty we are come,
in each and everyone!
… a Divine sound
you are Beauty,
and if you make me feel more precious
than my mind would allow me to accept,
then so be it;
our Hearts are covered
with all the disperate pains
and deviations from the Spirit of our longing.
And so we judge ourselves,
and cry for redemption
from old wounds given and received.
Yet, these onion pain body skins
are the Mareshka dolls
and only we can twist them open
to see they are illusion too.
… a Divine sound
Your writing shows your wild Spirit
and your trembling Human fragility,
for we are each made of dark and light,
the wings of our longing are this.
Oh, yes, we can never tarry too long,
'nor are we complete without that song,
moving in every cell and every thought,
our hearts a rapture of Love,
by which we rise, by which we rise …
by which we are pulled above,
by these Yin/Yang wings,
made of Love…
…a Divine sound
'O, what a lovely light!',
that from this moment to next,
has also gone before,
traversing time as if it space,
and alternities galore;
this is your pen, and our inspiration,
the breathe you give each letter,
the Soul in our machines!
... the streams of electrons spinning,
cascading to our eye,
information lovingly embraced,
leaving a memory and a sigh,
and the wonder in our why ...
… a Divine sound
Remember me for a brief moment,
as adoring and a Lover of your wonders,
I know you are shifting your world,
change agent that you are;
a Star comes to shine from what you've written,
and that you have touched my Heart,
and so much more, and so much more!
My Muse is bliss:singing
oh my Darling, I don't know what to say,
... you choose with alacrity,
and life chooses you for that authenticity;
for not is good `nor bad, but thinking makes it so,
or better yet, that heresy we shout,
that God speaks to us all, from the inside out …
my Muse has been dancing in my Heart
and bliss:singing lately …
What could you not say to me?
If Poetry speaks to you,
the language of your Heart,
I am pleased and overflowed to hear it.
Yet I write these for you, in my heart.
I feel you! What more can I say…
the Muse has been dancing in my Heart
and bliss:singing lately …
some mornings after having danced
with my Muse, and a Poem recited on her lips,
then to awake and it's gone like a wisp …
my Muse has been dancing in my Heart
and bliss:singing lately …
... she is there in you,
I see her peeking through the Poem,
she is of hearth and heath and home,
she is the sky and birds that sing,
oh my,
I see, she is in everything …
Your thoughtful messages make my heart swell,
as it comes from a writer who with her pen,
can, again and again, blow my mind away,
and make my heart to play …
... and in kind so are you,
a writers friend, and a keeper of the flame,
from which we send these simple writes,
and in the end, a thousand lights,
that gift of kindness, that cannot compare ...
my Muse has been dancing in my Heart
and bliss:singing lately …
... oh, a painting, an impressionistic piece,
colouring that longing sky,
that unreachable star, of Poetry...
you have captured the stirring caress
of the transcendent in this,
and sent it to my Heart with these few lines,
an enjambment beat the beat
in your vers Liberte, and I must say,
those waves of yours and mine,
sent me to a farther shore!
your use of colourful language
and your image descriptors
made me see/feel as if synaestetic,
and then brought me to a far star,
named by you, a galaxy with Angel wings,
that whisper and coo ...
and bathed by oceans sound,
you kept me wrapt in earth and sea,
the spin of a spiral existentially …
my Muse has been dancing in my Heart
and bliss:singing lately …
... an exodus from the ordinary ...
and now on a Train hurtling into wonder ...
oh the existential crises you are creating here ...
... then all is well, that's the end so Dear,
when all the past is made clear,
and Hearts connect in healing wounded reasons worm,
where ache and wonder is born.…
oh, and a plaint that we have all lamented.
I've heard it said, that on our bed of death,
it's not the things we've done that we regret,
no,
it's those we feared to do,
that has left us wanting, wailing at our last breath …
the creative process takes you up
like an Angel winging you to Empyrean heights
while bliss:singing
and rapture flutters the Heart
as if with wings divine; you know that Secret place ...
my Muse has been dancing in my Heart
and bliss:singing lately …
after having danced with my Muse,
and a Poem recited on her lips,
then to awake and it's gone like a wisp ...
... you choose with alacrity,
and life chooses you for that authenticity;
for not is good `nor bad, but thinking makes it so,
or better yet, that heresy we shout,
that God speaks to us all, from the inside out …
my Muse has been dancing in my Heart
and bliss:singing lately …
What could you not say to me?
If Poetry speaks to you,
the language of your Heart,
I am pleased and overflowed to hear it.
Yet I write these for you, in my heart.
I feel you! What more can I say…
the Muse has been dancing in my Heart
and bliss:singing lately …
some mornings after having danced
with my Muse, and a Poem recited on her lips,
then to awake and it's gone like a wisp …
my Muse has been dancing in my Heart
and bliss:singing lately …
... she is there in you,
I see her peeking through the Poem,
she is of hearth and heath and home,
she is the sky and birds that sing,
oh my,
I see, she is in everything …
Your thoughtful messages make my heart swell,
as it comes from a writer who with her pen,
can, again and again, blow my mind away,
and make my heart to play …
... and in kind so are you,
a writers friend, and a keeper of the flame,
from which we send these simple writes,
and in the end, a thousand lights,
that gift of kindness, that cannot compare ...
my Muse has been dancing in my Heart
and bliss:singing lately …
... oh, a painting, an impressionistic piece,
colouring that longing sky,
that unreachable star, of Poetry...
you have captured the stirring caress
of the transcendent in this,
and sent it to my Heart with these few lines,
an enjambment beat the beat
in your vers Liberte, and I must say,
those waves of yours and mine,
sent me to a farther shore!
your use of colourful language
and your image descriptors
made me see/feel as if synaestetic,
and then brought me to a far star,
named by you, a galaxy with Angel wings,
that whisper and coo ...
and bathed by oceans sound,
you kept me wrapt in earth and sea,
the spin of a spiral existentially …
my Muse has been dancing in my Heart
and bliss:singing lately …
... an exodus from the ordinary ...
and now on a Train hurtling into wonder ...
oh the existential crises you are creating here ...
... then all is well, that's the end so Dear,
when all the past is made clear,
and Hearts connect in healing wounded reasons worm,
where ache and wonder is born.…
oh, and a plaint that we have all lamented.
I've heard it said, that on our bed of death,
it's not the things we've done that we regret,
no,
it's those we feared to do,
that has left us wanting, wailing at our last breath …
the creative process takes you up
like an Angel winging you to Empyrean heights
while bliss:singing
and rapture flutters the Heart
as if with wings divine; you know that Secret place ...
my Muse has been dancing in my Heart
and bliss:singing lately …
after having danced with my Muse,
and a Poem recited on her lips,
then to awake and it's gone like a wisp ...
the whole is greater, Philos:LOVER
... and the whole is greater
then the sum of the parts!
Indeed, language syntax
is wounded reasons form;
a duality construct mired
in the paradox of you and I...
where the Heart, Love
is without such constructs
and limitations,
only embraces without differentiating,
kisses the Lover while also the Lovers kiss ...
Breathe ...
a wounded reason tells the lie,
a longing Heart 'sees' through,
and eyes glitter at the weightlessness
of floating words ...
all men make a God of their desire ...
as history repeats ad infinitum ad nauseum ...
But learning curves
and temper tantrums go together;
just before we 'get it'
a cognitive dissonance occurs
as synapses rewire
and neurons cascade
into a meaningful flower!
Breathe ...
all one has to do is wish to
`belong` as the first step
in the hubris of meaning,
where meaning becomes a flag,
a banner to hide the little fears,
and differentiate amongst men ...
all men make a God of their desire ...
as history repeats ad infinitum ad nauseum ...
what remains is our courage
to change the world from the inside out ...
Breathe ...
Soul is the dancer
Ascending to eternity
Circle of whirling’s
Reeling heart’s desire
Even the moment
Dances in the light
It is said by the old ones here,
that we each dance the Tribal DNA dreams
of seven generations,
that these patterns permeate our brains
and our bodies.
The old ones continued to say,
that we become what we choose to become,
we become what we LOVE,
and that we stand on the shoulders of giants before us,
so that we can see farther....
Breathe ...
that's the kind of 'believe' the universe does through us...
it is 'dreaming' ourselves into being something new,
stretching us to our potential...
i believe i can evolve further then 'Darwinian' science speculates...
i believe i have a wish fulfilling gem in my heart
which removes all obstacles to the goal i have set my self to;
the caveat is that i have to shine up the gem everyday so it works ...
Breathe ...
There are always beings like this
coming as gateways, as agents of change...
they are Natures urge
and are only real when they are alive,
like Truth is only real when it is alive.
in the light of cosmic time,
both great and small are extinguished in that eternity ...
then again, every particle,
every drop of blood is recycled
from this great cosmic love affair called creation,
consuming and reviving us over and over again, forever ...
Breathe ...
you are the Truth and the light...
then the sum of the parts!
Indeed, language syntax
is wounded reasons form;
a duality construct mired
in the paradox of you and I...
where the Heart, Love
is without such constructs
and limitations,
only embraces without differentiating,
kisses the Lover while also the Lovers kiss ...
Breathe ...
a wounded reason tells the lie,
a longing Heart 'sees' through,
and eyes glitter at the weightlessness
of floating words ...
all men make a God of their desire ...
as history repeats ad infinitum ad nauseum ...
But learning curves
and temper tantrums go together;
just before we 'get it'
a cognitive dissonance occurs
as synapses rewire
and neurons cascade
into a meaningful flower!
Breathe ...
all one has to do is wish to
`belong` as the first step
in the hubris of meaning,
where meaning becomes a flag,
a banner to hide the little fears,
and differentiate amongst men ...
all men make a God of their desire ...
as history repeats ad infinitum ad nauseum ...
what remains is our courage
to change the world from the inside out ...
Breathe ...
Soul is the dancer
Ascending to eternity
Circle of whirling’s
Reeling heart’s desire
Even the moment
Dances in the light
It is said by the old ones here,
that we each dance the Tribal DNA dreams
of seven generations,
that these patterns permeate our brains
and our bodies.
The old ones continued to say,
that we become what we choose to become,
we become what we LOVE,
and that we stand on the shoulders of giants before us,
so that we can see farther....
Breathe ...
that's the kind of 'believe' the universe does through us...
it is 'dreaming' ourselves into being something new,
stretching us to our potential...
i believe i can evolve further then 'Darwinian' science speculates...
i believe i have a wish fulfilling gem in my heart
which removes all obstacles to the goal i have set my self to;
the caveat is that i have to shine up the gem everyday so it works ...
Breathe ...
There are always beings like this
coming as gateways, as agents of change...
they are Natures urge
and are only real when they are alive,
like Truth is only real when it is alive.
in the light of cosmic time,
both great and small are extinguished in that eternity ...
then again, every particle,
every drop of blood is recycled
from this great cosmic love affair called creation,
consuming and reviving us over and over again, forever ...
Breathe ...
you are the Truth and the light...
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
writers who write 'Intelli:Gently' instead ...
Love freely given, inspires us,
and you who have a thousand Lovers,
with talents fantastic,
they paint with a thousand colours
and write with a thousand words,
for one such as you ...
to fall at your Goddess feet;
and want to lay in your ocean,
and caress your mountains
and breathe your crystal sky,
and so my Dear do I ...
write 'Intelli:Gently' instead ...
your eyes did gently scan my words,
and found in them a sign,
that showed me that your Heart does burn,
with longing and with rhyme...
you made my heart to swell,
and overflowed to a smile and twinkling in my eyes,
and overflowed;
I am by thy Love of words,
so praised by a greater in that art,
with a crystal clear mind,
shared sublime by thy sweet heart...
write 'Intelli:Gently' instead ...
... it's a map, but not the territory,
and we choose after all,
or fall by fate to a small whimper,
but rise to will by that very Love,
by which we are made complete ...
in our pen, would include the stars,
what could not, Venus or Mars,
and Galaxies and Space,
by this we are done;
we contain all these miracles, every one!
You write intelli:Gently ... with eyes and Heart wide open ...
and no less nor more, then we each reach to a greater,
and by this rise with each other ...
lovely water flows from your pen,
like tears and sighs and so much flow;
overflowed like we are now and then ...
write 'Intelli:Gently' instead ...
... a write is a bouquet, bringing Beauty and desire,
for more is yet to come, each flower has its wisdom,
come of Love from Nature’s bounty,
look at me oh! look at me they cry,
for like is to like, and a Beauty now does sigh...
write 'Intelli:Gently' instead ...
Devotions longing pours from your pen,
and you gaze upon each word with Love,
and I feel it so, your Love does grow,
and flows without end ...
write 'Intelli:Gently' instead ...
... We influence each other...
we do ...
so I am happy with that,
and that we have a special connection this way...
and a shared spirit, a mutual mindedness,
and a deeper way of feeling it all...
we are attracted to each other
as if by these destroying immense gravities
in our Hearts;
where that Black Hole of craving for the light pulls in us ...
write 'Intelli:Gently' instead ...
I am crazy for this Love you give me.
I am grateful, it has been aaaaaaaaaaa long time
with Winter in my Heart, and you gave me Spring,
that wild creative flowing like plasma, into Heart and Mind and Body.
your eyes so blue, and I saw you there,
you thought I was not looking,
but I did dare, and in that seeing,
with your blue eyes, I was reeling from being seen by you ...
... when a real connection is felt, and by this your own Heart,
a pitter pat, and it is felt, like that, like that, a flutter pitter pat
You write intelli:Gently ... with eyes and Heart wide open ...
and no less nor more, then we each reach to a greater,
and by this rise with each other...
your vers liberte beats a gentle beat
and your enjambment skips that beat,
like a pause, to be filled by the Lover,
the reader, the writer, and each other
... without condition, a gift!
and you who have a thousand Lovers,
with talents fantastic,
they paint with a thousand colours
and write with a thousand words,
for one such as you ...
to fall at your Goddess feet;
and want to lay in your ocean,
and caress your mountains
and breathe your crystal sky,
and so my Dear do I ...
write 'Intelli:Gently' instead ...
your eyes did gently scan my words,
and found in them a sign,
that showed me that your Heart does burn,
with longing and with rhyme...
you made my heart to swell,
and overflowed to a smile and twinkling in my eyes,
and overflowed;
I am by thy Love of words,
so praised by a greater in that art,
with a crystal clear mind,
shared sublime by thy sweet heart...
write 'Intelli:Gently' instead ...
... it's a map, but not the territory,
and we choose after all,
or fall by fate to a small whimper,
but rise to will by that very Love,
by which we are made complete ...
in our pen, would include the stars,
what could not, Venus or Mars,
and Galaxies and Space,
by this we are done;
we contain all these miracles, every one!
You write intelli:Gently ... with eyes and Heart wide open ...
and no less nor more, then we each reach to a greater,
and by this rise with each other ...
lovely water flows from your pen,
like tears and sighs and so much flow;
overflowed like we are now and then ...
write 'Intelli:Gently' instead ...
... a write is a bouquet, bringing Beauty and desire,
for more is yet to come, each flower has its wisdom,
come of Love from Nature’s bounty,
look at me oh! look at me they cry,
for like is to like, and a Beauty now does sigh...
write 'Intelli:Gently' instead ...
Devotions longing pours from your pen,
and you gaze upon each word with Love,
and I feel it so, your Love does grow,
and flows without end ...
write 'Intelli:Gently' instead ...
... We influence each other...
we do ...
so I am happy with that,
and that we have a special connection this way...
and a shared spirit, a mutual mindedness,
and a deeper way of feeling it all...
we are attracted to each other
as if by these destroying immense gravities
in our Hearts;
where that Black Hole of craving for the light pulls in us ...
write 'Intelli:Gently' instead ...
I am crazy for this Love you give me.
I am grateful, it has been aaaaaaaaaaa long time
with Winter in my Heart, and you gave me Spring,
that wild creative flowing like plasma, into Heart and Mind and Body.
your eyes so blue, and I saw you there,
you thought I was not looking,
but I did dare, and in that seeing,
with your blue eyes, I was reeling from being seen by you ...
... when a real connection is felt, and by this your own Heart,
a pitter pat, and it is felt, like that, like that, a flutter pitter pat
You write intelli:Gently ... with eyes and Heart wide open ...
and no less nor more, then we each reach to a greater,
and by this rise with each other...
your vers liberte beats a gentle beat
and your enjambment skips that beat,
like a pause, to be filled by the Lover,
the reader, the writer, and each other
... without condition, a gift!
So these letters...
Dear Heart,
you know who you are,
and change is won with courage...
So these letters are another way to Love you.
When will you find,
what waits for you there?
Written for when you
bleed undone. Cracked.
What you are looking for
does not mean you need
to be breaking ...
But I’ll give you that too,
because I love you ...
... it is such a frustration,
to be so open, mind and heart on fire,
and everyone around, lacking insight,
scurrying to their survival holes,
whimpering of a wasted life,
hands clenched in their pockets,
making small eyed looks ...
instead of open open open,
a heart of caring; real Humanity...
You love Humanity, it's the heart wearied
humans you have trouble with ...
... it amazes me: how by so choosing,
writing words can be like a magic, a balm,
to heal the wounds that reason makes,
in lyrical song,
to pen all of our fears and worries,
and send them out to binary seas,
and look back at them, and reflect that by this pen,
our magic wand, we have changed ourselves,
and perhaps better yet,
helped another to raise their pen
and change themselves,
and others again ...
So these letters are another way to Love you.
... this Alchemy of Awe, that sweetest sap,
that runs from roots within my chest,
and seeps to branch and leaves of Wonder,
to where it is that I still ponder ... is let
to this pen and writes with words of Love
on wings of letters to your eyes reflecting all the world ...
...a Spiral of messages comes through,
raptures, reverberate in the words
and by these full melodies, we each
are moved along the Spiral,
to further heights of Natures Urge,
between our World and the next,
and even the one before ...
and much much more ...
Change is catchy, and Hearts on fire
burn a New world of wonders,
from the old and wearied.
If it were not for Love
and friendship,
Love over fear,
Pen to paper,
we’d all in darkness weep!
So these letters are another way to Love you.
...a little poem meant for you, and with this write,
and in this way, for you are the vers Liberte,
and the rhyme, and the meaning of why
we beat the beat, enjambment,
that with our Pen
our wild hearts
are made complete...
Oh my Dear friend, these words,
these letters are another way to Love you....
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