Is it the discerning artist's eye that
creates new spaces with color
or the discerning soul of a master
so vast as to perceive other universes,
rearrange them into beauty,
even invent them for others to have
brief respite from the physical.
Thursday, October 30, 2014
October's Morning Glory
When senses arise in surprise to
October's morning glory,
As a soul I soar while the body
awakens with crisp-air tingles
warmed by sunlit autumn amber
streaming golden sheaths of
warm tinted by tiny rainbows within
misty morning drops of dew.
October's morning glory,
As a soul I soar while the body
awakens with crisp-air tingles
warmed by sunlit autumn amber
streaming golden sheaths of
warm tinted by tiny rainbows within
misty morning drops of dew.
Exploding Sublime
Early autumn mist fades
albino pumpkin moon,
chills midnight air to
born dawn's golden dew,
Mellow-sweet rhythms of
Beethoven's "Pastorale" flowers
galloping gentle crescendo,
exploding sublime to flay open
souls' windows to savor
divine immensity of his muse.
albino pumpkin moon,
chills midnight air to
born dawn's golden dew,
Mellow-sweet rhythms of
Beethoven's "Pastorale" flowers
galloping gentle crescendo,
exploding sublime to flay open
souls' windows to savor
divine immensity of his muse.
Young 21st Century Braves
Beer cans tumble in Indian winter wind amid
tumbleweeds bounding over empty fields propelled by
swells of blizzard breath;
Young 21st century braves goalless, afraid, ashamed,
souls numbed from cold coals of emptiness, reach into a
hazy future further fogged by alcohol and drugs,
yet with dignity plod forward, driven to rise above
forces against their noble culture whimpering from
venomous "gifts" of psychiatry's thugs;
Now astride faithful horses, postured straight with
heads held proud-high, they ride into new sunrisen skies as
spirits of their people ascend to bless their vow:
"We know who we are! We will turn our history around!"
tumbleweeds bounding over empty fields propelled by
swells of blizzard breath;
Young 21st century braves goalless, afraid, ashamed,
souls numbed from cold coals of emptiness, reach into a
hazy future further fogged by alcohol and drugs,
yet with dignity plod forward, driven to rise above
forces against their noble culture whimpering from
venomous "gifts" of psychiatry's thugs;
Now astride faithful horses, postured straight with
heads held proud-high, they ride into new sunrisen skies as
spirits of their people ascend to bless their vow:
"We know who we are! We will turn our history around!"
Honking Winter In
Amber-colored beaks honking winter in
while the sun brings dawn around for
roosters to crow about.
while the sun brings dawn around for
roosters to crow about.
Marketing Hell
Above black bars of marketing hell
I create
in no time and no space,
building a wealth of things I make,
stacked and shoved in crevasses and corners
making a vacuum of spaceless horror
until I'm surrounded above my knees,
can barely walk or do things i please;
And then think when bills come due:
"I've got to sell!"
I come unglued
stop signs unhide themselves until
I sunder into must-market hell;
Oh, well, what can I say - it's just
another way to play;
And so upping my bootstraps I do the drill to
master the game (may as well),
avoiding consequences of more no-have nonsense
with blame, shame, regret and other such senselessness;
The bottom line is this, my cherished self:
You're the boss and no one else
Do what it takes, not what it doesn't
and erase forever the market-hell button;
Now enjoy that fresh clear new-found air as
you rise your being into millionairess,
(Ahhh, freedom at last from self-made big M mess)
I create
in no time and no space,
building a wealth of things I make,
stacked and shoved in crevasses and corners
making a vacuum of spaceless horror
until I'm surrounded above my knees,
can barely walk or do things i please;
And then think when bills come due:
"I've got to sell!"
I come unglued
stop signs unhide themselves until
I sunder into must-market hell;
Oh, well, what can I say - it's just
another way to play;
And so upping my bootstraps I do the drill to
master the game (may as well),
avoiding consequences of more no-have nonsense
with blame, shame, regret and other such senselessness;
The bottom line is this, my cherished self:
You're the boss and no one else
Do what it takes, not what it doesn't
and erase forever the market-hell button;
Now enjoy that fresh clear new-found air as
you rise your being into millionairess,
(Ahhh, freedom at last from self-made big M mess)
Rainbow Ride
I rode a rainbow across an April sky
the colors of it blinded by white sunlight with nowhere to hide
(why anyway?)
I shone myself as a sunny day
and smiled on those I love and
the few I temporarily hate.
the colors of it blinded by white sunlight with nowhere to hide
(why anyway?)
I shone myself as a sunny day
and smiled on those I love and
the few I temporarily hate.
Life as Love
As a day says light so I say love
as a stream hums peace I feel a quiet thrill
a pebble clicks on a broad grey stone
a still breeze moves above my head
and I above the trees see life as love.
as a stream hums peace I feel a quiet thrill
a pebble clicks on a broad grey stone
a still breeze moves above my head
and I above the trees see life as love.
Unsensuous Rapture
Music whispered trumpet bells
golden in African chant
smells of melon dancing sweets to noses lightly
red-blushed black-top children
running dust around noon carousel
near a pool of emerald water
while their laughter as children's
laughter anywhere sets a place delight
unsensuous rapture
golden in African chant
smells of melon dancing sweets to noses lightly
red-blushed black-top children
running dust around noon carousel
near a pool of emerald water
while their laughter as children's
laughter anywhere sets a place delight
unsensuous rapture
Who Knew?
Who knew that when you re-entered my life
as golden light after dormant years that
it would rekindle a bond so close as to pretend to be one,
no distance alloying its richness, its greatness;
I think of you and you are here
streaming affinity without space,
gracing my being with cherished treasure of
enduring soulship giving always its meaning;
and so together we rise beyond heights
with nowhere to grasp as we've surpassed the
stars into freedom at last...
my beloved forever friend.
as golden light after dormant years that
it would rekindle a bond so close as to pretend to be one,
no distance alloying its richness, its greatness;
I think of you and you are here
streaming affinity without space,
gracing my being with cherished treasure of
enduring soulship giving always its meaning;
and so together we rise beyond heights
with nowhere to grasp as we've surpassed the
stars into freedom at last...
my beloved forever friend.
Contemplating Calm
If some do things to make you
huff and puff into
red-faced exasperation,
pin-prickle your life to make
emotional frustrations leading to
uncomfortable friction,
maybe the best suggestion is to
validate them for what they do right;
this alone may make your days calmer and lighter,
a kind of balm that would soothe the strife,
and even enhance yours and the others' life.
huff and puff into
red-faced exasperation,
pin-prickle your life to make
emotional frustrations leading to
uncomfortable friction,
maybe the best suggestion is to
validate them for what they do right;
this alone may make your days calmer and lighter,
a kind of balm that would soothe the strife,
and even enhance yours and the others' life.
In a Befuddled Fog?
Decide what you're trying to do;
Put that on a fast train headed to
where you want to go;
Hop on with it,
Hurdle road-blocks, not-want-to-do's, things that oppose;
Fire up your engine, pour on the coals
burn rubber to reach that goal!
Put that on a fast train headed to
where you want to go;
Hop on with it,
Hurdle road-blocks, not-want-to-do's, things that oppose;
Fire up your engine, pour on the coals
burn rubber to reach that goal!
Buzzing Busy
Every dang day packed with buzzing around busy,
crammed with endless to-do lists,
crowds wanting this, wanting that,
demanding your attention until you bark,
"DRAT!"
"Alone is what I crave. Please God! Just one day in a
cool quiet haven, ALONE without pulls from every corner,
'I wanna this, I wanna that'...'this needs to be done, and,
oh god, that,'
I'm not a bee that has to buzz 'til I collapse!"
Then at last, before you reach berserk,
you have that day - ahhhh, finally...
gourmet dessert! A haven to call your own...
relaxed, comfy nap, no sound - alone.
A few hours pass, you awaken with thoughts
slapping your mind around: "If I don't do it, who will,"
"That isn't done," "Oh, I forgot to..." "Did I do..."
"Okay, just CHILL! I'm doing this!"
All now calm, you drift off with one last thought:
"I've got to add this to my list."
crammed with endless to-do lists,
crowds wanting this, wanting that,
demanding your attention until you bark,
"DRAT!"
"Alone is what I crave. Please God! Just one day in a
cool quiet haven, ALONE without pulls from every corner,
'I wanna this, I wanna that'...'this needs to be done, and,
oh god, that,'
I'm not a bee that has to buzz 'til I collapse!"
Then at last, before you reach berserk,
you have that day - ahhhh, finally...
gourmet dessert! A haven to call your own...
relaxed, comfy nap, no sound - alone.
A few hours pass, you awaken with thoughts
slapping your mind around: "If I don't do it, who will,"
"That isn't done," "Oh, I forgot to..." "Did I do..."
"Okay, just CHILL! I'm doing this!"
All now calm, you drift off with one last thought:
"I've got to add this to my list."
Cherokee Rain Dance
PUM pum PUM pum PUM pum PUM pum beat
Cherokee dancing drums,
Flailing headdress feathers pierce dry sky,
Color-flashing bronze bodies bend as willow bows
back and forth in rhythm to
prairie grass blowing in spring-warm wind,
dancing the rain in;
High above we ride enchanted with
PUM pum-pulsing drums,
souls soothed from days pummeled
with worry shrouds as
thunderbolts flash crooked bright gold through
steel-blue bursting clouds,
rushing showers pelt parched earth, promising
cornucopian harvest to fill all with its wealth.
Cherokee dancing drums,
Flailing headdress feathers pierce dry sky,
Color-flashing bronze bodies bend as willow bows
back and forth in rhythm to
prairie grass blowing in spring-warm wind,
dancing the rain in;
High above we ride enchanted with
PUM pum-pulsing drums,
souls soothed from days pummeled
with worry shrouds as
thunderbolts flash crooked bright gold through
steel-blue bursting clouds,
rushing showers pelt parched earth, promising
cornucopian harvest to fill all with its wealth.
Fireside Friends
Bittersweet summer's end
when fickle September lends
heightened heat then
sunders to cooler blends,
ushering October in
with gently exploding
golden colors
firing senses to mingle with
crispy air tingling noses red
to warm by toasting marshmallows
with fireside friends.
when fickle September lends
heightened heat then
sunders to cooler blends,
ushering October in
with gently exploding
golden colors
firing senses to mingle with
crispy air tingling noses red
to warm by toasting marshmallows
with fireside friends.
Wisps of Bliss
At times when senses are dulled by incessant summer,
I search to rediscover my muse's universe in hopes to rekindle
its relentless whispers of dancing rhythms
only to find its elusive game of hide-and-seek while
waiting for cool October mist when thoughts'
cacophonies gently slide into an autumn-crisp mood,
inviting me to again play cascading word-wisps of bliss with
my insouciantly elusive musical muse.
I search to rediscover my muse's universe in hopes to rekindle
its relentless whispers of dancing rhythms
only to find its elusive game of hide-and-seek while
waiting for cool October mist when thoughts'
cacophonies gently slide into an autumn-crisp mood,
inviting me to again play cascading word-wisps of bliss with
my insouciantly elusive musical muse.
Playing
Spark your own lark
feast on a strawberry tart
hitch a ride on a hot air balloon
hopscotch across a blue lagoon
leap into a bucket of happy
feel the bellowing yellow laughing
dip into a pool of silly sassy
taste the tingle of lemonade taffy
glide over a dew-dropped rainbow
slide on its glow up to indigo
grab its tip
flip it upside down
spread its smile all around
somersault over its bucket of gold
feel its colors shimmer through your soul
watch a morning sun rise into love
fly with the freedom of a white soaring dove
feast on a strawberry tart
hitch a ride on a hot air balloon
hopscotch across a blue lagoon
leap into a bucket of happy
feel the bellowing yellow laughing
dip into a pool of silly sassy
taste the tingle of lemonade taffy
glide over a dew-dropped rainbow
slide on its glow up to indigo
grab its tip
flip it upside down
spread its smile all around
somersault over its bucket of gold
feel its colors shimmer through your soul
watch a morning sun rise into love
fly with the freedom of a white soaring dove
Lemon Tree Dance
Singing along in lemon tree dance
romancing with leaves in soft silk breeze
soaring in blue-purple sky
sighing misty breaths just past starlight.
romancing with leaves in soft silk breeze
soaring in blue-purple sky
sighing misty breaths just past starlight.
Tickling the Day
Silence sifts through laughing grasses
while willows sway to lilting breezes;
Daisies hide their faces shyly
as fickle bees go zipping lightly,
tickling the day with buzzing teases
while willows sway to lilting breezes;
Daisies hide their faces shyly
as fickle bees go zipping lightly,
tickling the day with buzzing teases
Sermon to a Self
It’s not like you can drive through McDonald’s to
buy a cup of freedom or
go to your grocery store to pick up a package of
frozen feel-good
to put in the freezer as a quick fix for a bad day.
Just how many unopened emotions does a person need so
he can’t let himself do what he wants to do,
have what he wants to have,
be what he wants to be.
No tricky can opener, unlocking ziplocks,
pill-popping or shrinks would set him free.
Most don’t know they are lost in a
society hypnotized by some things they can see.
Just one: TV grabbing you by the eyeballs,
cementing you to a couch potato future.
A potato is a vegetable. Potatoes go to seed.
They grow in dirt and are dug up to be eaten.
How couch potato does a person need to be; i.e.
how dead-headed or...
We all have freedom to choose
what we do now that makes our
tomorrows win or lose.
buy a cup of freedom or
go to your grocery store to pick up a package of
frozen feel-good
to put in the freezer as a quick fix for a bad day.
Just how many unopened emotions does a person need so
he can’t let himself do what he wants to do,
have what he wants to have,
be what he wants to be.
No tricky can opener, unlocking ziplocks,
pill-popping or shrinks would set him free.
Most don’t know they are lost in a
society hypnotized by some things they can see.
Just one: TV grabbing you by the eyeballs,
cementing you to a couch potato future.
A potato is a vegetable. Potatoes go to seed.
They grow in dirt and are dug up to be eaten.
How couch potato does a person need to be; i.e.
how dead-headed or...
We all have freedom to choose
what we do now that makes our
tomorrows win or lose.
Flitter Golden
Flitter golden in the mind makes no shadows
to hide behind;
Why hide anyway when creators are meant
to play with and on anything they may find to
while a day away.
to hide behind;
Why hide anyway when creators are meant
to play with and on anything they may find to
while a day away.
Mint Julep
There are places on earth - and higher! A
higher with no earth space - a kind of sky;
Never is it a heaven. A heaven is not that
close to truth. And there will never be a
hell high enough (suffice it for earth to say).
This is a place where gods and goddesses play. And
this happens every day whenever you would be
there by wiggling your mind for respite
of a today - as if sifting away from
brash dissonence of recalcitrant brass.
Lay your body aside. Close your eyes. Now
tune with your wits and glide away
from your mind to a mint julip
frosted for a special soul enwant of
rest from writhing through the mire of
earth's primitive burlesque.
Now. Here we are. Harmony with a blink
of a peaceful smile.
Here.
Where Aphrodite inspired to
speak love on a universe;
Where Paris mellowed his powerful youth;
Where Apollo raised his wisdom wiser;
Where Athena, a goddess of peace, made
peace a serenity;
Here.
Above all emotion but where emotion could be
created;
And the gods and goddesses were well fond of
creating:
A god in apathy is a great apathy to see. And a god
a victim of bruising a goddess' vanity is a
gargantuan victim indeed.
Wounded under her tears of tempestuous darts,
he would snap-to his wits to yawn at her
tiring kaleidoscope lark, then tickle her
with such interesting thoughts it would
entice her to again play enough creations
to laugh away what had transpired and
to seek and find another sky higher:
Lay your game aside. Open soul-wide. Now
tune with your wits, glide away from
your mind...
higher with no earth space - a kind of sky;
Never is it a heaven. A heaven is not that
close to truth. And there will never be a
hell high enough (suffice it for earth to say).
This is a place where gods and goddesses play. And
this happens every day whenever you would be
there by wiggling your mind for respite
of a today - as if sifting away from
brash dissonence of recalcitrant brass.
Lay your body aside. Close your eyes. Now
tune with your wits and glide away
from your mind to a mint julip
frosted for a special soul enwant of
rest from writhing through the mire of
earth's primitive burlesque.
Now. Here we are. Harmony with a blink
of a peaceful smile.
Here.
Where Aphrodite inspired to
speak love on a universe;
Where Paris mellowed his powerful youth;
Where Apollo raised his wisdom wiser;
Where Athena, a goddess of peace, made
peace a serenity;
Here.
Above all emotion but where emotion could be
created;
And the gods and goddesses were well fond of
creating:
A god in apathy is a great apathy to see. And a god
a victim of bruising a goddess' vanity is a
gargantuan victim indeed.
Wounded under her tears of tempestuous darts,
he would snap-to his wits to yawn at her
tiring kaleidoscope lark, then tickle her
with such interesting thoughts it would
entice her to again play enough creations
to laugh away what had transpired and
to seek and find another sky higher:
Lay your game aside. Open soul-wide. Now
tune with your wits, glide away from
your mind...
Freedom's Bell
Witches holler when warlocks bellow;
They begat their sins to carry to hell
where for them fish fly and birds swim in
an endless backwards world
made to make insane sense;
Here, where no stars or sweet compassion dwell,
souls are held in torment as unloved shells;
Ominous shadows did their sins (or so they tell)
while black bats carry them
further to their self-made hells;
There they with master warlocks spin,
weaving more diabolical tales
To be picked up at the end when their
souls (if gained sane sense)
will hear the call of Freedom’s bell once again.
They begat their sins to carry to hell
where for them fish fly and birds swim in
an endless backwards world
made to make insane sense;
Here, where no stars or sweet compassion dwell,
souls are held in torment as unloved shells;
Ominous shadows did their sins (or so they tell)
while black bats carry them
further to their self-made hells;
There they with master warlocks spin,
weaving more diabolical tales
To be picked up at the end when their
souls (if gained sane sense)
will hear the call of Freedom’s bell once again.
Soulride
The night wore stirrups on each of its sides
so I mounted first one foot on the edge of a dawn,
the other on the edge of a dusk and
rode the way round Earth
watching the moon change faces and
belt out a chuckle that shook the stars as a
thunderstorm rumbled ‘neath my laughs and
passed into space --
a relief, I might add;
Now I could see over the solar system
swinging as if pivoted by an unseen
puppetmaster in a rhythm that
nearly lulled me to sleep;
A comet darted me awake and left to ascend
where there was nothing to ascend from or to,
depending from which planet or other
celestial body you’re viewing, or even in between;
Mine was Earth.
Tiring of night, I mounted day and saw the
havoc that races play;
It was a many-ringed circus without the applause --
wars to snap you awake if
you dulled with its confusions;
Hard to see through the smog which
direction humans are taking their games.
I peeked into a calm between day and
night where thoughts eased into dinnertimes,
minds buried into wherever minds go
while shoving the day behind to stack on forgotten
other days -- some unaware a day had passed,
doing their lives like a kicked can through
the gutters by a boy’s foot;
Having reached the 24th hour,
I dismounted to reach for the tip of a
spiral galaxy, tasting the trip like lemonade on a
hot Earth day and there saw life swings on
seeking secret dreams dipped in a sort of
chocolate forgotten, and most not seeing they
ever dreamed at all;
Delightful game, isn’t it.
I took me back to Earth to play human with
the other guys, knowing I rode above all
games this once and will again
while my human body sits beneath the
stars in the middle of a night where
the stirrups hang loose awaiting another rider.
so I mounted first one foot on the edge of a dawn,
the other on the edge of a dusk and
rode the way round Earth
watching the moon change faces and
belt out a chuckle that shook the stars as a
thunderstorm rumbled ‘neath my laughs and
passed into space --
a relief, I might add;
Now I could see over the solar system
swinging as if pivoted by an unseen
puppetmaster in a rhythm that
nearly lulled me to sleep;
A comet darted me awake and left to ascend
where there was nothing to ascend from or to,
depending from which planet or other
celestial body you’re viewing, or even in between;
Mine was Earth.
Tiring of night, I mounted day and saw the
havoc that races play;
It was a many-ringed circus without the applause --
wars to snap you awake if
you dulled with its confusions;
Hard to see through the smog which
direction humans are taking their games.
I peeked into a calm between day and
night where thoughts eased into dinnertimes,
minds buried into wherever minds go
while shoving the day behind to stack on forgotten
other days -- some unaware a day had passed,
doing their lives like a kicked can through
the gutters by a boy’s foot;
Having reached the 24th hour,
I dismounted to reach for the tip of a
spiral galaxy, tasting the trip like lemonade on a
hot Earth day and there saw life swings on
seeking secret dreams dipped in a sort of
chocolate forgotten, and most not seeing they
ever dreamed at all;
Delightful game, isn’t it.
I took me back to Earth to play human with
the other guys, knowing I rode above all
games this once and will again
while my human body sits beneath the
stars in the middle of a night where
the stirrups hang loose awaiting another rider.
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